Dancing with Shadows

Addy

Brick's car has broken down in the driveway. He's been at it all through summer vacation, buying spare parts and replacing everything he could. Today's the day he goes back to school and Sinatra is still sitting duck out front. The worn look on his face gives away his disappointment. He had clearly hoped to keep the beat up VW Citi around for a little longer.

I wake up to the noise of him ravaging through the car, opening and slamming doors frustratingly. He carries his things out of the car and into the already crammed garage. Mom used to beg Dad to clean it out but she doesn't anymore. I guess there are just too many battles between the two of them to fit in house chores.

When I come outside, Brick's friend has belted Sinatra to the tow truck and is hauling him out of the driveway. I stand by Brick's side and watch as he's taken to get stripped for all the parts he's worth. I can still see the outline of where Sinatra was parked all summer. He's left a mark on the concrete.

"It was a damn near great car," he speaks quietly.

"If I remember correctly you hated that car. You said it was an old piece of junk. Remember that?"

"Of course," he laughs. "I remember everything about him. The crap he gave me, God! But I've had so many firsts in that car it almost feels like he was my first real friend."

"You're such a cornball."

"No, you are," he counters. 

"So senior year without her?" Sinatra is a blue blob in the distance.

"Yup."

"You'll be okay right?" He makes his perturbed face. I hate that face. I hate all of his older brother faces. 

"Will you?" 

What I dont tell him is that, I'm afraid I cant do the regular things I'm expected to do, like going to school or being a regular high school student. These are the things I keep to myself.

He sighs in response and kicks the ground before sitting on the driveway. I drop next to him and we wait- him for the sadness to pass and I for the final minute when I absolutely have to get to school. The pavement is cold beneath my butt. Brick doesn't say anything else and neither do I. I allow the uneasy feeling that's been settling in my stomach to devour me whole. All morning, I've felt like if I stay awake long enough, I'll blink away last night- being in Jett's room and the sight of his bare skin sweating against mine. I blink away the memory but its still there. Immovable. Rigid. I am a product of the recollection, sitting on the cold concrete, willing it all away. 

Dad finally comes home just as I'm about to leave for school. The sun's out of the clouds and in my eyes so I smell him before I can see him. He smells like stale whiskey and wet earth. The grass crunches under the weight of his plodding boots. He marches right past us and up the driveway into the house. When he comes back out he beckons to Brick to get in his Impala. 

Brick goes into the house and comes back out bearing a duffel bag and his jacket in one hand. Mom stands at the door clutching the shawl draped across her shoulders. Brick hugs her tightly and hurries to me. The Impala is backing out into the street.

"Stay solid, Ade. I love you."

"I love you too."

"Take care of ma."

I nod quickly.

Hug.

Wave.

Poof.