You Found Me Read online

  “I dunno. We thought about the movies, but everyone does that. We thoughts about meeting and eating somewhere, but everyone does that too.”

  “So...” The suspense was killing her.

  “We're gonna go bowling,” he said with a sly smile. She stared at him in disbelief.

  “Bowling?” she asked. Rob nodded. “As in “a big ball and pins' kind of bowling?”

  “No, Momma, as in 'sitting in a bowl and holding onto the back of speeding car' kind of bowling.” She rolled her eyes at him.

  “Well there isn't really anything good playing right now. We thought about just going and renting a movie, and decided not to.”

  “What's wrong with that?”

  “Nothing really. We just think it would be a good idea to get to know each other before being stuck with each other for a whole movie. What if we decide in the middle of the movie we don't like each other?” His mother just stared at him. He didn't know what she was thinking.

  “Mom?”

  “Rob, are you worried about kissing or anything like that?” Rob turned red again.

  “No. Not really, why?”

  “Look, I don't wanna know about your dating life. You will have to answer for that one day. I do wanna know when you feel uncomfortable about something, especially when it comes to girls and dating. I realize you might not wanna talk about it, but it's important, Robert.” He nodded. It made sense. “Now, do you wanna talk about it?”

  “I guess. It's just. I've never been kissed before and I'm...I dunno.”

  “Worried?”

  “Well, yeah, sorta. What if she wants to kiss on the first date? I don't think I'm ready for something like that.”

  “Rob, if you're not ready then you're not ready. You're in charge of your own body. No one else. And you will have to answer for the choices you make, whether good or bad.” He nodded. “Okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Look at me, Robert.” He did. “Okay?” He started smiling. “Yeah. Thanks, Momma.”

  Chapter Seven

  The office had a rather stuffy feeling about it. I didn't wanna be there, but I decided to go ahead and humor Mrs. Madison and meet the doctor. The place felt strange. There were some strange people there. I didn't know what to think.

  Why am I here? What's going on? I shouldn't even be here! I just wish...

  “Robert Thompson?” I jumped at the sound of my name. I raised my hand and followed the lady. I didn't really know what to do when she called my name. “Oh, hi. That's me”? I don't think that would've gone over well.

  It had been two days since the funeral. I'd stopped the showers this morning. I still hurt, but the burning wasn't helping as much as it had two days ago. It was just there, slightly taking the sting away, but nowhere near what I needed. I needed to move on, I told myself. I needed to get away from that. I needed...something... She showed me to his office and opened the door for me.

  There sat Dr. O'Nassis. He looked kinda strange, to be honest. He was a fairly large man, with a bizarre voice. It wasn't a southern draw, but it didn't sound like anything I'd ever heard before. He looked a lot like Paul Dooley, the guy from...some movie. What was that movie? I dunno, but that's what he looked like. His voice sounded a little like him too, but with a slight southern twang (but only slight).

  “Robby! Good to see ya. Come in, come in!” Oh no. I have a new name. He seemed a little overjoyed to see me. Creepy.

  “Hello, Dr. O'Nassis. Nice to meet you.”

  “Well, polite little thing, ain't ya? Sit down and let's talk a bit.” I gave a fake smile (something I'd gotten rather good at) and sat down. His office was pretty small and plain. There were a few paintings on the walls, but nothing drastic. If he had any big decorations, they weren't in here. He might have met with psychos or something like that. “How's school goin'?”

  “It's good.”

  “Think you'll pass?”

  “Certainly hope so.” I smiled, but I wasn't sure if it was real or fake.

  “What ya goin' to school for?” I raised an eyebrow and smiled slyly.

  “What am I 'going for' or what's my major?” He chuckled. He looked funny when he chuckled.

  “Let's start with the major.”

  “English.”

  “Nice. My nephew was an English Major.” I just nodded in a manner I thought appeared thoughtful and considerate.

  “Listen, Rob. We aren't going to start anything today. I just wanted you to come by, say 'hi', and put in an appearance, if you will.” I stared at him for a minute. That's exactly what I'd planned to do and, somehow, he knew it. “Now, if you want to, I'd like you to come back next week. Same time, same place.”

  “Okay,” I said and made the appointment. I didn't have any plans of keeping it.

  “And if you don't come back, it was nice meeting you.” I smiled, shook his hand, and left. Had he really said that? I didn't know what to think. It was like he was sitting there, reading my mind and having his answers ready and waiting.

  I smiled and nodded at the receptionist there and left. As I walked to my car, I began to wonder about this guy. Maybe he could help me. He certainly had a weird way of doing things. I mean, I'm thinking of how to ease my sufferings a little and he's talking to me like I was his best friend from kindergarten. It felt strange.

  I got in the car and started driving to Chili's. On most days, I just stayed in Huntsville instead of going home. Besides, I really didn't want to be there anyway. I knew I would get depressed, start to cry, and all sorts of other stuff, like things I might later regret.

  Yesterday was the day of difficult decisions. Dad and I dealt with things we didn't want to, thing we always hoped we never hafta think about, let alone have it sitting before us awaiting a decision.

  “What about the van?” I asked.

  “I dunno. What do you think we should do with it?” I was silent. I didn't know what to do with it. What do you do with the vehicle of a dead family member? I mean, if it's someone who's in the process of dying over a long period of time, then I'd think it would've already been taken care of. But this. This was different. This was a loved one who has gone without warning. “I don't...think we should keep it.”

  “I don't either.” It would've cost a fortune to fix the thing. It was damaged all most as bad as Mom was. There was nothing we could do to fix it. “We'll have to sell it,” he said.

  “I know. It's the only thing we can do, really.” “Yeah.” Silence. “What else?”

  “Her clothes and such?”

  “Yeah, we can donate them to the store.” “Todd and Steven's store?”

  “The one, the only.” Todd Stenson and Steven Giles ran a general store in Rosetta Falls. Todd had won the store at an auction and hired Steven a few months later. It had no name, just a location and a reputation all of North Alabama knew. Their hours were memorized by all of Rosetta Falls and most of Lewis County.

  We sold the van and donated her clothes to the store. We hardly got any money for the van, how much I've never known, but obviously not enough to do anything with. Todd gave us a $100 credit for the next time we came in. Honestly, I didn't think we'd ever go back.

  Word got back around to Dad that the teenager who caused the accident was probably going to die. He'd gotten the email and became a block of ice after that. He told me he wasn't going to sue the boy, his parents, or anyone else. This was just too much, he said.

  The boy was in pain, and so was he. I never found out what happened to him.

  We didn't get rid of everything that belonged to her. We kept the pictures of her and all of her movies. We kept a few of the different things she'd cross-stitched and crocheted. Even with all of that there and gone, it was all we could do just to go home and see everything she used to be.

  I pulled in the Chili's parking lot and waved at my friends. They insisted we go out to lunch when the funeral was outta the way. They pushed and pushed until I finally gave in and agreed to meet with them. I don't really like Chili's,
but since I wasn't hungry it didn't really matter. I was wearing long sleeves even though the temperature was around 90 or so (even when the temp is “only at 90”, it always feels closer to 125. The humidity in the south has always been unbearable. What's worse...it's only April).

  My birthday is a few days away. I'm not looking forward to it at all. I just wish none of this had ever happened. That Mom was at home, demanding I be there at a decent hour tonight. To which I would most likely reply “fine” and show up around two the next morning. That was a decent hour in my opinion. More decent than, say, four?

  I didn't want my friends to see the cuts. I gave up showers. They weren't enough. They weren't enough. I needed something more. I'd started cutting. I'm sure O'Nassis noticed, but he didn't say anything. He was probably building ammo for next time. If there was a next time.

  The cuts weren't that big, maybe two inches at the most and less than a centimeter in depth. Just enough to hurt but not bleed too much. I didn't wanna die. Or maybe I did. No. No I didn't want to die. I didn't want to die. I just needed something to help. To help take my mind off of the pain. The overwhelming that was my mother's death...

  I parked the truck and got out. I left my iPod plugged in and walked inside. This was the first time I'd intentionally left something valuable in my truck. It just didn't seem as important as it once had. I had moved on to more important things, or things that needed my immediate attention. Me.

  I still couldn't get it out of my head that our last words were those of anger, of hatred. Why couldn't she have accepted me for who I am and left it alone? I know I'm not the best son in the world (not according to anyone's standards) but I'm the best I can be. Aren't I?

  My friends waved at me as I walked in. They wanted to get together and spend some time away from everything and everyone. I figured it was a good idea. I wanted to forget about all the crap that was going on at home. My wrist were pretty sore, so I didn't give any high-fives or hard handshakes. It took a lot, considering I've always been the upbeat one.

  “Hey, Rob,” John said. There were actually two Johns. One was the same height as me and the other was way smaller than the rest of us. It was an unusual thing when talking to them. Big John and Little John. Big John greeted me.

  “Hey John. How you doin'?”

  “Not bad. Teachers are killing me. We've only got two weeks left in school and they wait until now to start teaching.” Big John was smart, way too smart for his own good. He loved waiting until the last minute to write a paper and making better grades than everyone else. He was going to school to be an engineer.

  “Thanks for coming,” Lisa said. Lisa was one of my best friends. We met completely by accident, though I can barely remember it. I was originally duel enrolled at UAH. I went there for Spanish and some of my fine arts. I was stuck waiting at UAH one night. Dad was running late, something about the interstate being really, really backed up. She was stuck with me. She'd been stood up or something like that and was now there with me. We started talking about school, the different teachers I have, and other things.

  But we became friends because of Rosetta Falls. It turned out we live only a few miles from each other, went shopping at the same stores, and had probably seen each other numerous times and just never realized it. We've been friends ever since.

  “I'm so sorry.”

  “It's fine,” I lied. I was getting really good at it now. Just throw in a fake smile and people will believe anything.

  “No, it's not,” she said. “But don't worry, we'll make sure you have a good time.” I wasn't hungry, but went along with them anyway. Any distraction I suppose is a good one.

  I got the usual apologies and hugs that I was expecting (pain. pain. pain). We sat down at the table. The waitress came with our drinks. The guys all knew about my Sweet Tea addiction and had me covered. I ordered a small salad, which caused a few heads to turn.

  “I had a big breakfast,” I lied. I hated greens. Hated, hated, hated greens. I've always hated it when people order salads and water and spend their whole meal either glaring at you for eating meat or complaining cause they’re fat. As far as the meat cause, I don't care. It has to die sometime and I'm pretty sure other animals don't mind killing it. What's so wrong with me killing it as opposed to a car or other animal? When it comes to skinny people who say their fat, don't ask.

  “How're classes?” Little John asked.

  “Evil as always.”

  “I know,” Big John laughed. “I'm getting a headache and it ain't even finals yet!”

  “You're getting a headache?!” Michael asked. Michael was engaged to Lisa. We'd become friends through Big John. “You sleep all the way through class and still do better than I do.”

  “Yeah, that's what your Mom sa-” The table went quiet. Big John had stopped in the middle of his sentence, barely catching himself.

  One of our favorite pastimes had been verbal “abuse” and our favorite verbal phrase was “that's what your Mom said.” It was immature, obnoxious, and we loved it. It wasn't personal, just for fun. I felt a sting. Not a big one, not one to push me over the edge, but a sting. I took a sip of my tea and enjoyed the awkward silence.

  “What do you wanna do for your birthday, Rob?” Die. “Dunno. Haven't given it much thought.” Which was true. My birthday is April 24th. It wasn't far away, but I still hadn't really thought about it all that much.

  “You hafta have another Halo party!”

  “Haha. And why's that?”

  “Cause last year's was amazing!” Little John said. “You gotta have another one. Especially that cake.”

  “Oh yeah,” Michael said. “I remember the cake.”

  “Yeah, gotta have the cake.”

  “Well,” I said, my voice faltering. “No cake this year.”

  “Aw man. Why not?”

  Again, it went quiet. The cake was Mom's thing, which explained why everyone loved it. Mom was a great cook. I knew they were trying to help, and they were doing their best. To some small degree, I just didn't feel comfortable there.

  “Listen, guys. I'm gonna go ahead and head home.”

  “No.”

  “Naw, come on man.”

  “Yeah,” Michael said. “Just hang out with us for a while.”

  “Naw,” I said, “I'm just tired and I think I need some sleep.”

  “Are you okay?” Lisa asked. What was I supposed to say? Well considering I've lost someone dear to me, have been self-inflicting myself for two days, and feel like I could end my life tonight, I feel fine. Instead, it came out “Yeah, don't worry.”

  I left some money on the table and left. I knew one of them would take the salad, which was fine with me since I had no intentions of eating it. The last thing we needed was something else rotting in our fridge.

  I got my phone out and called Brittany. Tonight was supposed to be a date night, but I didn't feel like it. I got her voicemail, which is what I was hoping to get.

  “Hey, Brit, it's Rob. Listen, I'm not feeling too good right now. My friends and I went to Chili's for lunch and I think they spit in my food.” (light chuckle) “Anyways, I'll text you about a rain check. Thanks, bye.” and that was that. I didn't have any intention of calling her back to be honest, but I figured it was nice to at least let her know I remembered who she was. I got in my truck and started driving home, thinking about the razors I had in my bathroom and what would happen if Dad found out. If he ever knew...

  Chapter Eight

  “What do you mean I can't go?” Rob yelled. He wasn't happy at the moment.

  “I didn't say you couldn't go,” his Mom said. “I just said that we couldn't get you there until 10.”

  “The party starts at 5! Why can't you get me there sooner?” His Dad chimed in.

  “Because both of us have to be at work until then. I can't get home until closer to 7 and she won't be home until way after 10. That's the best time we can do.”

  “Fine. Whatever.”

  “Okay. I'll drop you o
ff tomorrow night and get you Saturday morning.”

  “That's fine, whatever.”

  “It'll probably be around seven since we have to mow the yard.”

  “So wait,” Rob said, “I'm not getting there until 10 and then I'm leaving at 7? That's not fair. That's not even in the same league as fair.”

  “I'm sorry, Robert, but that's life,” Mom said. “We can't be in two places at once and you know that.”

  “Okay, you know what? I'm just gonna stay here. You two stay in town and do whatever you want. I'll be happy to stay here and be bored or whatever else.”

  “I can give you chores to do if you think you're gonna be bored.” He walked out of the room and went upstairs.

  Rob was angry. They always did this to him. When he had something planned, even if it was months in advance, they always did something to mess it up. He was glad his birthday was coming up. It was his sixteenth birthday, and he planned on putting that to good use.

  He also knew what was coming in a few hours. Dad would go upstairs, with plenty of anger now fueled by his mother, and they would no doubt have a vicious argument (which Rob would lose of course) and end with a grounding from everything short of breathing.

  The grounding wouldn't last. When his birthday came around, they would let it up for a “special occasion” and never be re-implemented. He had it better than some, he knew that and was willing to admit it. It had been years since his parents punished him in any kind of physical manner. Not that they avoided it. He had his share of whippings growing up. On the other hand, the groundings were usually just as severe and even more annoying. He went to his room and fell on his bed.

  He could feel the tears start to form.

  Chapter Nine

  Three times a week, I worked at a bookstore café. I'd been working there for almost a year and had few complaints. Everyone there was used to my usual sarcastic and rather blunt nature. Lately, I was just being rude. I really didn't mean to, but for some reason it was coming out of me left and right. It took everything in me to hold it in with a customer. I knew one stupid question at the wrong moment and I'd be fired in a heartbeat.