Chapter 28
Max
“So…” Chris starts saying as we both sit at the kitchen table a couple mornings later. “You and Lacey are back together?”
“Yeah I think so.” I can’t stop the grin.
“Happy to hear it, bro.” He matches my smile and I know he really means it. “If you kept moping around here I was going to buy you a box of tampons.”
“Fuck you.” I laugh, throwing the only thing within reach that won’t shatter when it hits the floor: a pen. It bounces off his chest and he laughs at the playful act of violence.
After drinking his coffee while I check my school emails on my phone, Chris speaks up again in a serious tone.
“Hey.” He says, making me look up from my phone. “I arranged a bed at a treatment facility. You think you could drive me up to Westwood today?”
“Yeah. For sure.” I didn’t even realize he had been thinking about treatment. He never mentioned his drug use again after that night on the beach. He must have thought about what we talked about though, unbeknownst to me. “I’m really proud of you.”
“I already packed so I’m all ready to go.”
He sounds nervous. Nervous yet eager to accept his faults and get help. He wants to be better and change his life and I meant what I said. I was so proud of him.
I help him load his bags in the backseat of my car. He asks if his car can stay parked next to mine in the lot until he gets back and I agree. He isn’t sure how long he will be there. They told him it’s based on each person’s needs and it could take anywhere from one month to six months.
Not knowing makes me uneasy but I don’t show it. I want him to make it through but I know he gets antsy and flighty after too long of waiting for anything.
Six month seems like a stretch for his patience. But he seems serious about this and I hope that means he will stay however long he needs to cleanse his body and more importantly his mind of the drugs and cravings.
We talk for the full hour drive and I get the sense that Chris needs to fill the silence to occupy his mind.
We joke. We laugh. We talk about everything except where he’s going and why.
When we get to the Westwood area he types the address of the facility into my GPS. We’re only a few minutes away when we plug in the address and we quietly finish the drive. I park the car in front of the office for the treatment center. It looks pretty nice with manicured hedges and sleek styled buildings behind it.
I feel good about dropping my brother off here.
I get out of the car with him and help by pulling one of his bags from the backseat. He grabs the backpack and swings it over his shoulder. Before he has a chance to walk inside and check himself in I pull him in for a hug.
“I really am proud you decided to come here.”
“Thanks, bro. I want to be someone I can be proud of. I’ve never felt that way and I think maybe I can if I get through this program.”
“You will.”
“I won’t be able to call for a while. You earn phone privileges after you get through part of the program. But I’m adding you to my call list and my visitor list if I get one.”
“Ok. I’ll be waiting for a call. I love you.”
“I love you too, Max. Thanks for the ride.” He sounds choked up but when he pulls back from our hug his eyes are clear.
We didn’t profess our love to each other very often. We just weren’t that kind of family. But this moment certainly called for it and it was about time we broke our family dynamic anyways.
Our emotional goodbye ends as he grabs his duffle bag from my hands and heads inside the office. I wait for the door to shut behind him, cutting him off from my view, before getting back in my car.
I fight the urge to go inside after him and screen the place more. He chose this facility himself and I have to trust his judgment.
I wake in a cold sweat, jerked awake from my nightmare the moment Mom’s terrified face morphs into Lacey’s as it drifts further beneath the water until she disappears. I hadn’t had a nightmare in so long and I wasn’t expecting one tonight. Worrying too much must have triggered it, sending my stress levels over the edge of what’s healthy.
Lacey slept peacefully beside me, unaware of my panic and internal mayhem.
I reach over to grab the glass of water on my bedside table and gulp it down. It’s only three thirty in the morning. There’s no way I’ll be getting back to sleep tonight after what my brain forced me to remember.
I was eight years old again.
Mom had finally had enough of Dad and the life he was pulling his family into and decided to go to the cops. She knew better, even back then, than to let him know her plans. So she waited until Friday when she knew he would be out late and loaded me and Chris in the backseat of her car.
Just as we were all putting out seatbelts on, not quite sure at the time what Mom had planned, Dad’s car pulled back in the driveway behind us and effectively blocked us in.
I’ll never forget the look of sheer terror in her eyes as they looked back at us from the rear view mirror as he stormed out of his car and yanked her door open.
The fact that he didn’t just hit her while he had her in his clutches was more terrifying than anything. He clearly had something else, something much worse, in store for her.
My young mind hadn’t realized that at the time. But Mom must have realized it. Her face paled at the false niceness in his voice as he instructed us to all get in his car, stating we were going for a little family outing.
We never saw Mom again after that family outing. Never saw her again because our dad killed her. And the trauma of it all gave me nightmares for life. I suspected Chris turned to drugs to forget.
I wish like hell something could make me forget it too.
Lacey stirs awake from my tossing and turning. She reaches out to rub my arm soothingly. “What’s wrong? Why are you up?”
“Had a nightmare.”
“About what?”
I decide it’s time to tell her about my Mom, the one last secret I’ve held close to my chest.
“About my mom….About the day she died.” She wakes more fully at my admission and I sense I have her undivided attention. I continue. “My dad drowned her. She tried to go to the cops and get us boys out of that house. But he caught her. It was late at night but he took us on a family boat trip.” The words taste like acid. “I should’ve known that wasn’t why we got on the damn boat. When did we ever do a family anything? I knew something was wrong because my mom was crying. She was trying to hide it but…I could still see it.”
She remains quiet, albeit supportive with her soothing touches, letting me finish my story uninterrupted. If she has any questions I’m grateful as fuck she’s saving them for the end because I can’t stop right now. The words flow from me, the first time I’ve ever spoken them, and it’s therapeutic to let this out.
“He took us so far from shore that no one could hear our screams. So far that no one would find her body.”
My voice cracks and I take a deep breath to calm my nerves so I can finish. I’ve bottled up what happened for thirteen years and it was overflowing like lava when the pressure blows off the peak of a volcano.
“He beat the shit out of her while Chris and I sat there on the bench seats. I was eight…I was so scared. So scared of him. I’m still fucking scared of him.”
Hot tears streak my cheeks and I’m beyond glad the room is pitch black, preventing Lacey from seeing. I’m sure she knows that’s why I’ve paused my story but she quietly waits for me to regain composure.
“He tied concrete blocks to her legs and at that point she could barely move. She was begging him…begging him not to kill her in front of us. She didn’t want us to see that. And he smiled. He fucking smiled Lacey and he shoved her over the side of the boat into the water.”
“Oh, Max.”
She wraps her arms around me in the dark bed and pulls me close. She strokes my hair and doesn’t press me for more details. I don’t think I can talk without getting choked up more than I already have.
That was enough for one night.
After Chris and I stared over the edge of the boat crying and screaming hysterically Dad looked at us and warned us if we ever spoke of Mom again we would end up in the same place as her.
The bottom of the sea.