“I think he was in construction,” Creed said. “Well, at least he looked like he was in construction.” Otter smacked him on the back of the head. “Why’d you do that for?” he grimaced.
“You’re not helping,” Otter growled at him before looking back at me. “So we don’t know what he did or where they went. There has to be some way to track them down. Did she have credit cards or a checking account or anything like that?”
Anna laughed bitterly as she answered for me. “Oh come on, Otter. You know the answer to that. She never had any kind of bank account. Bear is the only one who did, and she would always take money from that.”
“First thing in the morning, then,” Otter said, “you need to call your bank and take her name off your stuff or change your PIN number or whatever.”
“Why?” Creed protested. “If she tried to take money out, wouldn’t that tell us where she’s at?”
Anna glared at him. “Yes, it would, after she took all the money out. Which she may have done already.”
“Oh, yeah.”
I giggled.
You know how sometimes you can laugh at the most inappropriate time? When everything seems bleak and gray, and you know you should be feeling sad/depressed/angry but for some reason, something strikes you as funny in a sick, non-funny kind of way? Like a funeral. Or your mom leaving. It was one of those.
Creed looked at me like I’d lost my mind, which I was on my way to doing. “What’s so funny, Bear?”
“$137.50,” I said, snorting out spurts of laughter.
“What?” Otter said, frowning at me.
“S-she left m-m-me a hundred thirty-seven d-dollars and fifty cents!” I was shaking by the time I finished, feeling the mirth crawl through me like a tapeworm. My vision was narrowing again, and I could feel my gorge rising, but I couldn’t stop laughing. “T-there were two kwuh-kwuh-quarters put in with the rest! She left me kwuh-quarters!”
They all stared at me, mouths agape.
I staggered up and ran to the bathroom, dry-heaving as soon as I hit the toilet. I heard someone chase after me, but I frantically waved my hand at the door, sending them away. My stomach clenched and my bowels felt loose, and the world grayed slightly as I gripped the seat. Wave after wave of nausea rose through me, and I think I passed out for a moment as I felt my head hit the side of the bathtub next to the toilet. My face felt swollen and my breath sour. I moaned.
Oh GOD, this can’t be happening, I thought. This is just a nightmare. Any second now, I’m going to wake up and feel relief when I realize it was all just a bad dream. I’ll look over at the clock and see that it’s not quite time for me to get up yet, so I’ll pull the blanket over my head and crawl back down into darkness and won’t I just feel so much better? Because this can’t be real. Nobody does stuff like this to someone else. Especially a parent. That’s why this can’t be real, because not even my mother could do this.
It is real, though, Bear, a voice whispered back. You know it’s real because of that taste in your mouth, the headache you’re beginning to feel. The cut on your hand. That sickness in your heart. That’s how you know it’s real. You could never actually feel those things if this were a dream. That’s not the question you should be asking, though, if this is a dream. The question you should be asking is what you’re going to do now? Because you’re awake?
I didn’t want to do anything then. I wanted to lay there for the next two months and then pack up my shit and get the hell out of Seafare like I was supposed to have done. That was the plan and what I had worked my ass off for to be able to do. I was supposed to leave and go to Eugene and go to school and become a writer or a teacher or whatever the fuck else I wanted to be. A reporter. An astronaut. The President of the fucking United States. I
had gotten a scholarship, for Christ’s sake! I was going to become someone that I wanted to be, not be forced into something I didn’t. As I lay there, her letter, that goddamn letter, swam through my head, taunting me. Why do yu need college? it said. That scholarship will be there later, right?
I need yu to do something for me.
I need yu to do something for me.
Yu were always better at taking care of him than me.
I heaved again. And again. And again.
After some length of time—when I was sure there was nothing liquid left in me—I rose unsteadily to my feet. I went over to the sink and rinsed my stinking mouth out. The water felt good against my fevered skin. I splashed it on my face, trying hard to ignore my reflection. I didn’t want to see what I looked like right then. I knew what I would see on my face, and if I had dared to look, to see that resignation, that anger, I would have hated myself for it. I would have hated her for it, more than I already did.
And I would have hated Ty. That’s the one that hurt most of all.
I WALKED back into the living room, feeling more tired than I’d ever felt in my life. Anna rose immediately and wrapped her arms around me, squeezing me to the point where I couldn’t breathe. I left my arms at my side. I couldn’t give her what she wanted. Not right then.
She must have felt it, too, because she pulled away and looked at me. I could see that she had been crying and part of me was annoyed by that. After all, what did she have to cry about? She just didn’t get screwed over. She didn’t have to worry about her future. She didn’t have to worry about how she was going to take care of a fucking little kid. Right then, I am ashamed to say, I didn’t want to be with her anymore. I wanted her to go away and not come back. After all, wasn’t that what everyone of any importance was doing now anyway? I tried to check myself before this came welling out, but she could see the anger on my face, and she flinched. Some small part of me hoped that she knew it wasn’t directed at her, not really. But only a small part.
“Bear, Otter and I—” Creed started, but I cut him off.
“No,” I said. “We aren’t going to talk about this in here. I don’t want to wake him up.” With that, I turned and headed for the kitchen, knowing they were exchanging looks behind my back as they followed.
I sat down at the table and waited until they had too. Anna still looked upset and stared off toward the living room, and Creed was looking down at his hands. Only Otter looked at me, so I focused on him.