November 21st: Back to Reality
I’m still shaking when I get to the Knoll. Still shaking as I turn off Jacob, stumble to the grass, and sit down. Still shaking as I bury my face in my hands and close my eyes and whisper promises I know that I won’t keep.
I remember when I was fourteen and I hit my growth spurt. I grew six inches in four months, gained thirty-five pounds of muscle, started having to shave every day. But I don’t think my inside ever caught up. I was still the same immature X, the one who skated around problems and avoided thinking about the past by concentrating on everyone else.
And now I’m finally catching up. Finally learning to be a man, to be more than just some gangly kid trapped in a man’s body. Soon I’ll have a family. Soon I’ll have a wife and a child who depend on me. Soon it’s going to be my job to give an innocent, fragile piece of flesh everything that I just threw away.
Maybe I can teach my child to stand up for herself. To respect herself enough to not just say anything for the boy she loves. Alice and I both made that mistake, in one way or another. That’s why we’re here. That’s why we’re stuck. And already, I can feel that much for this child. An overwhelming desire that he will never be stuck.
I guess this might be how things are supposed to happen. Maybe I wasn’t meant for greatness, wasn’t meant to be the first in my family to make something of myself. But when you think about it, have I really given that up? Who says that providing for a family isn’t something extraordinary? Maybe I won’t be a household name. Maybe I won’t be a great inventor, or athlete, or intellectual, or the next president of the United States. Maybe I’ll never be able to afford that new house for my mother, or buy Manuel a college education, or get a decent car of my own. Maybe my child won’t have all the newest clothes or electronics. But who can fault me for stepping up and helping out a friend? Who can fault me for loving a child and giving him everything I have? Who can say that isn’t good enough?
Maybe Mamá is right. Maybe I’m throwing everything away. Or maybe I’m just taking a different path.
Maybe I’ll even be happier, this way.
* * *
“Alice just called. Crying. She wants you to call her back.”
I stare at Ty, then grab the phone out of his hands and dial Alice’s number.
“Hello?”
I lean against the wall. “Alice? You okay?”
“No,” she says, her voice shaky. “She’s really angry, X. She thinks... I don’t know what she thinks. But it’s not good. I think... I think she thinks that this is like what happened... You know...”
“Calm down,” I say slowly, soothingly. “Just tell me what’s going on. Breathe.”
“She thinks this is like what my dad did to her,” she says in a rush.
I feel like someone punched me in the stomach. Ty glances at me, his eyes questioning, concerned.
“She thinks I...”
Alice lets out a choked, sputtering noise. “I told her not! I told her! This isn’t fair... What did you ever even do...”
“Why does she think that?” I ask slowly, sliding to the ground.
Alice exhales shakily. “I don’t even know. After you left she kept asking me questions, how it happened, why we didn’t... You know... Use protection. And then she asked if you... If you... You know... And I said of course not, but I was still shaking and crying and I guess she thought I wasn’t telling the truth... And she says she’s always thought you were a bad influence on me and that you were too angry but she never thought you’d...”
“I can’t... And you let her think that?” My stomach is twisting, turning, cartwheeling.
“I told her she was wrong! I tried to convince her but... She doesn’t want to believe that it’s my fault!” She’s crying.
I shake my head. “I have to go.”
“Meet me at the Knoll? Please?”
“I have to go.”
“Please!”
“I have to go,” I say, harsher.
“Seven o’clock. After dinner. Just come, okay? I need –“
I hang up the phone and sit numbly on the floor. Ty comes over and puts an arm around my shoulder.
“You okay?”
I shake my head. “I thought it was actually gonna work out....” I laugh wearily. “How stupid was I, anyway?”
* * *
But I show up.
She wraps her arms around me when she sees me, the sleeves of her sweater pulled down over her hands. “I don’t know how things got to be this way,” she whispers.
I pull away. “I can’t marry you.”
“What?” She stares at me. Disbelieving.
“I can’t marry you if your mother thinks I raped you. Next she’ll be calling every day thinking I’ve been beating you and...” I shake my head, massaging my temples. “No. It won’t work. Alice... This won’t work.”
“Will you stop acting like this is about you?” she asks angrily.
I stare at her. “Your mother is crying rape for chrissake, Alice! She really thinks I would do that to you! And you’re no better! You think I’m going to hit you, she thinks I raped you, why can’t you... Why the hell won’t you two just realize that I’m not like that?” I demand.
She shakes her head, tears starting in her eyes. “But I don’t... I don’t think you’d hurt me... I love you, okay?” A drop of saline trickles down her cheek. “And my mother... She doesn’t mean it... She’s just scared, she doesn’t want to face the truth...”
“What the hell is the truth?” I shout. “You don’t want her to believe the truth! You want her to believe your own convenient lie! The truth is that some guy committed statutory rape and got you pregnant! The truth is that we’ve never even had sex! Her idea is about as close to the truth as your story is!”
Alice bites her lip, tears coming stronger now. “But I just want this baby to...”
I shake my head. “You don’t give a shit about the baby. You don’t give a shit about me, either. All you care about is yourself. How to keep yourself out of trouble. You’re probably still seeing him, aren’t you?” I demand. “Aren’t you?”
She steps back. “X, stop it!”
“Why the hell do you always have to be the happy one, Alice?” I yell, my face red, my stomach knotted. “Why the hell d’you always gotta be okay? You know what? I’m not okay! I’m being accused of raping my best friend! I’m giving up my entire future for a girl who only cares about manipulating me! Someone who has done nothing but lie to me for weeks and months and years!”
“Stay away from me,” she warns, stepping back again.
I walk right up to her. I can feel her breath on my chest, shaking, scared. My hands are clenched into fists at my sides. “You act like you’re the only one who’s ever had it bad,” I say in a low voice. “You think everyone owes you something because your dad was a rotten piece of shit. All I’ve ever tried to do was help you. And this is how you treat me.”
She backs away. “Please,” she says, in the smallest voice. “Xavier, please.”
I shake my head. “I’m so sick of you treating me like this. I’m so sick of you taking advantage of me and using me to help make your life easier. I think your life has been easy enough, Alice. You know that? I think your life has been a fucking picnic.” My knuckles hurt from the tension. I clench my fist harder. Harder. Harder. “The picnic is over, okay? It’s fucking done.” I turn away. Because I know I would, if I looked at her one more second. I know I would be the man she keeps trying to force me to be.
“You know why I asked you to help me?” she asks, her voice low, trembling. “You know why? Because I knew you were the guy who would never walk out on me. Would never leave. I knew that no matter how much shit I put you through -- and I knew I was gonna put you through a lot of shit – that you wouldn’t leave me.” She laughs. Bitter. Angry. “Guess I was wrong? You’re just like your father, aren’t you? You stay until it gets tough. You stay until you get hurt. And then you just run. But you’re never going to get away, you stupid pig. Nothing’s chasing you. It’s inside of you. That’s why things are bad. That’s why your life is bad.” She laughs again. Mocking. “You keep saving everybody else because you hope someday someone will tell you to stop. Someone will make you save yourself. Because you’re lower down than anyone I’ve ever met, Xavier. You’re lower down than anyone can save.”
I spit in the grass and run to my car, my fists shaking. I want so badly to turn around and hit her. Want so badly to break her nose, to give her a black eye, a busted lip, a broken rib.
Because she’s right. She’s right, she’s right, she’s right, she’s right... And I wish like hell she were wrong.
I remember when I was fourteen and I hit my growth spurt. I grew six inches in four months, gained thirty-five pounds of muscle, started having to shave every day. But I don’t think my inside ever caught up. I was still the same immature X, the one who skated around problems and avoided thinking about the past by concentrating on everyone else.
And now I’m finally catching up. Finally learning to be a man, to be more than just some gangly kid trapped in a man’s body. Soon I’ll have a family. Soon I’ll have a wife and a child who depend on me. Soon it’s going to be my job to give an innocent, fragile piece of flesh everything that I just threw away.
Maybe I can teach my child to stand up for herself. To respect herself enough to not just say anything for the boy she loves. Alice and I both made that mistake, in one way or another. That’s why we’re here. That’s why we’re stuck. And already, I can feel that much for this child. An overwhelming desire that he will never be stuck.
I guess this might be how things are supposed to happen. Maybe I wasn’t meant for greatness, wasn’t meant to be the first in my family to make something of myself. But when you think about it, have I really given that up? Who says that providing for a family isn’t something extraordinary? Maybe I won’t be a household name. Maybe I won’t be a great inventor, or athlete, or intellectual, or the next president of the United States. Maybe I’ll never be able to afford that new house for my mother, or buy Manuel a college education, or get a decent car of my own. Maybe my child won’t have all the newest clothes or electronics. But who can fault me for stepping up and helping out a friend? Who can fault me for loving a child and giving him everything I have? Who can say that isn’t good enough?
Maybe Mamá is right. Maybe I’m throwing everything away. Or maybe I’m just taking a different path.
Maybe I’ll even be happier, this way.
“Alice just called. Crying. She wants you to call her back.”
I stare at Ty, then grab the phone out of his hands and dial Alice’s number.
“Hello?”
I lean against the wall. “Alice? You okay?”
“No,” she says, her voice shaky. “She’s really angry, X. She thinks... I don’t know what she thinks. But it’s not good. I think... I think she thinks that this is like what happened... You know...”
“Calm down,” I say slowly, soothingly. “Just tell me what’s going on. Breathe.”
“She thinks this is like what my dad did to her,” she says in a rush.
I feel like someone punched me in the stomach. Ty glances at me, his eyes questioning, concerned.
“She thinks I...”
Alice lets out a choked, sputtering noise. “I told her not! I told her! This isn’t fair... What did you ever even do...”
“Why does she think that?” I ask slowly, sliding to the ground.
Alice exhales shakily. “I don’t even know. After you left she kept asking me questions, how it happened, why we didn’t... You know... Use protection. And then she asked if you... If you... You know... And I said of course not, but I was still shaking and crying and I guess she thought I wasn’t telling the truth... And she says she’s always thought you were a bad influence on me and that you were too angry but she never thought you’d...”
“I can’t... And you let her think that?” My stomach is twisting, turning, cartwheeling.
“I told her she was wrong! I tried to convince her but... She doesn’t want to believe that it’s my fault!” She’s crying.
I shake my head. “I have to go.”
“Meet me at the Knoll? Please?”
“I have to go.”
“Please!”
“I have to go,” I say, harsher.
“Seven o’clock. After dinner. Just come, okay? I need –“
I hang up the phone and sit numbly on the floor. Ty comes over and puts an arm around my shoulder.
“You okay?”
I shake my head. “I thought it was actually gonna work out....” I laugh wearily. “How stupid was I, anyway?”
But I show up.
She wraps her arms around me when she sees me, the sleeves of her sweater pulled down over her hands. “I don’t know how things got to be this way,” she whispers.
I pull away. “I can’t marry you.”
“What?” She stares at me. Disbelieving.
“I can’t marry you if your mother thinks I raped you. Next she’ll be calling every day thinking I’ve been beating you and...” I shake my head, massaging my temples. “No. It won’t work. Alice... This won’t work.”
“Will you stop acting like this is about you?” she asks angrily.
I stare at her. “Your mother is crying rape for chrissake, Alice! She really thinks I would do that to you! And you’re no better! You think I’m going to hit you, she thinks I raped you, why can’t you... Why the hell won’t you two just realize that I’m not like that?” I demand.
She shakes her head, tears starting in her eyes. “But I don’t... I don’t think you’d hurt me... I love you, okay?” A drop of saline trickles down her cheek. “And my mother... She doesn’t mean it... She’s just scared, she doesn’t want to face the truth...”
“What the hell is the truth?” I shout. “You don’t want her to believe the truth! You want her to believe your own convenient lie! The truth is that some guy committed statutory rape and got you pregnant! The truth is that we’ve never even had sex! Her idea is about as close to the truth as your story is!”
Alice bites her lip, tears coming stronger now. “But I just want this baby to...”
I shake my head. “You don’t give a shit about the baby. You don’t give a shit about me, either. All you care about is yourself. How to keep yourself out of trouble. You’re probably still seeing him, aren’t you?” I demand. “Aren’t you?”
She steps back. “X, stop it!”
“Why the hell do you always have to be the happy one, Alice?” I yell, my face red, my stomach knotted. “Why the hell d’you always gotta be okay? You know what? I’m not okay! I’m being accused of raping my best friend! I’m giving up my entire future for a girl who only cares about manipulating me! Someone who has done nothing but lie to me for weeks and months and years!”
“Stay away from me,” she warns, stepping back again.
I walk right up to her. I can feel her breath on my chest, shaking, scared. My hands are clenched into fists at my sides. “You act like you’re the only one who’s ever had it bad,” I say in a low voice. “You think everyone owes you something because your dad was a rotten piece of shit. All I’ve ever tried to do was help you. And this is how you treat me.”
She backs away. “Please,” she says, in the smallest voice. “Xavier, please.”
I shake my head. “I’m so sick of you treating me like this. I’m so sick of you taking advantage of me and using me to help make your life easier. I think your life has been easy enough, Alice. You know that? I think your life has been a fucking picnic.” My knuckles hurt from the tension. I clench my fist harder. Harder. Harder. “The picnic is over, okay? It’s fucking done.” I turn away. Because I know I would, if I looked at her one more second. I know I would be the man she keeps trying to force me to be.
“You know why I asked you to help me?” she asks, her voice low, trembling. “You know why? Because I knew you were the guy who would never walk out on me. Would never leave. I knew that no matter how much shit I put you through -- and I knew I was gonna put you through a lot of shit – that you wouldn’t leave me.” She laughs. Bitter. Angry. “Guess I was wrong? You’re just like your father, aren’t you? You stay until it gets tough. You stay until you get hurt. And then you just run. But you’re never going to get away, you stupid pig. Nothing’s chasing you. It’s inside of you. That’s why things are bad. That’s why your life is bad.” She laughs again. Mocking. “You keep saving everybody else because you hope someday someone will tell you to stop. Someone will make you save yourself. Because you’re lower down than anyone I’ve ever met, Xavier. You’re lower down than anyone can save.”
I spit in the grass and run to my car, my fists shaking. I want so badly to turn around and hit her. Want so badly to break her nose, to give her a black eye, a busted lip, a broken rib.
Because she’s right. She’s right, she’s right, she’s right, she’s right... And I wish like hell she were wrong.
posted by Angel at 2:29 PM
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