Chapter 17
Evan Granger Mc Donald, 9 years old, May 5th, 1995;Joint Base Cape Cod, Mass
I always look for a woman who has a tattoo. I see a woman with a tattoo, and I'm thinking, okay, here's a gal who's capable of making a decision she'll regret in the future.
RICHARD JENI, attributed,
The Little Book of Humorous Quotes
"H ey, Evan! Your momma is so fat; a whole species went extinct!"
"Yeah, your momma is so fat, when she wore a Malcolm X shirt a helicopter landed on her!"
Just turn the other cheek like Mom told you to, Evan. Walk away. Mom said no more fighting.
"Whatever buttheads. You're just stupid," I fire back and walk away from Michael and Trevor.
Michael and Trevor are two of the biggest jerks in the whole neighborhood. They remind me of the two punks from my dad’s favorite Christmas movie, A Christmas Story, especially because it is just as impossible to avoid them as it was for poor Ralphy. Everybody lives near each other on a military base. It's usually fun because there are a lot of kids to play with. Most Saturdays I spend the whole day on the base's playground. But living on a base makes it pretty hard to avoid bullies when you only live two blocks away from them.
Trevor is a big punk and only jumps in when Michael is around anyway. I'm not even scared of them. I've been taking Tae Kwan Do and Karate for three whole years. But I promised Mom that I wouldn't get in any more fights and my dad says a man's word is his bond. Plus, Mom promised to get me a new bike if I stay out of trouble ‘till the end of the school year.
I keep walking away. At least once it gets a little warmer, I will be down at the beach instead of having to put up with these two jerks.
Then I hear Trevor call out, "Hey Evan. Aren't you gonna stop me from kissing your girl?"
At the same time, Angela Becker cries out. Her voice is trembling like she is really scared when she says, "Leave me alone Trevor. You're so gross."
I can tell she is trying to be brave, but Angela’s voice cracks at the end. Oh. Hell. No. Nobody is picking on a girl when I'm around. Mom says I am always supposed to be a gentleman. I always hold the door open for my mom and pick her flowers and everything. Even though picking flowers is kinda like being a sissy. I turn on my heel and march back over to where Trevor and Michael are standing.
"Leave Angela alone, or you're going to get it." My hand is balled up in a fist, and I'm so mad I see red now. My heart is thumping in my chest too. "Let. Her. Go!" I grind out.
Only by now, I'm so mad that I'm yelling. Just as loud as I heard my mom yelling at my dad last night. Trevor just grips Angela's braid in his grubby hand even tighter, and I see him yank on Angela’s hair so hard that she cries out in pain. It makes Angela bit her lip, and she's got big tears in her eyes that make her eyes look really big.
My first goes flying right into Trevor's nose, and I put all my weight into it just like Sensei Kim taught me to. I hear a crunch that sounds just like when you take a big bite out of a celery stalk. Next thing you know, there is blood everywhere, and Trevor is crying. Just like a girl. I grin before I turn around and shove Michael so hard that he falls right onto the merry-go-round. The metal makes a dinging noise when he lands with a thump.
"Run Angela!" I yell out, and I see Angela take off towards home with her cute red braid swinging side to side.
I turn back toward Michael and Trevor just in time to see a fist coming at me, and I have to duck almost to the ground, so it will miss. Next thing you know, Trevor's got me by the arms and Michael is hitting me over and over again right in my gut. I let myself go all limp, and Trevor loses his grip on my arms. I swing round and do a foot sweep so that Michael falls back on his butt again.
"Evan! I brought my dad back with me!" I hear Angela’s voice and look up to see she's with her dad.
Major Becker looks super mad, and I think I'm going to get it until he says, "Look you two little punks. You aren't going to get away with bullying my daughter and two against one isn't a fair fight!" The Trevor and Michael freeze real still like the rabbits in my yard do when my dog, Baby Ruth, comes outside. I snicker. Major Becker turns to me and says, "Are you Chief Petty Officer Mc Donald's boy?"
I just nod and say, "Yes, sir!" just like I see my dad sometimes do.
"Well, I owe you a big thank you for protecting my Angela. Anytime you need anything you just come visit me."
Then he claps me on my shoulder and ruffles my hair. Makes my chest feel real tight, and I get a knot stuck in my throat. I just nod and take off for home.
"Bye Evan!" I hear Angela call out, right before I hear her say to Major Becker, "I'm going to marry him one day Daddy."
Major Becker just says, "You boys are coming with me."
I turn back around and see Trevor and Michael getting yanked by their shirt collars. Angela blows me a kiss, and I wink at her before grinning and running all the way back home.
"Hey, Mom! I'm home!"
The screen door slams behind me and I wince. Mom hates it when I forget and let it bounce like that. I smell the spaghetti and tomato sauce and notice the table's set for the three of us, but I don't see my mom when I walk in the kitchen. Maybe she went back to bed? She's been sleeping a lot lately and looks sad all the time. I don't know what my dad did wrong, but it sure made my mom mad. I think it has something to do with her friend Amy because I heard my mom say she was guilty of being an infidel. Or infidellite. Something like that.
"Mom?" No answer. The skin on the back of my neck feels itchy. I walk down the hallway to my mom's room, but it feels too long. All I can picture is the scene from last week's Goosebumps. It's too quiet. Like it is when we go camping at night, and I have to take a flashlight to the port-a-john.
"Mom?" I call out again.
I knock on her bedroom door, and it creaks open when I push on it. My dad keeps saying he is going to oil the hinges, but he never does. I let out a deep breath when I see my mom laying down in her bed. Everything's OK. Mom's just sleeping, Evan. I tip toe across the carpet and walk over to the bed where I see my mom turned on her side.
Her shiny black hair is spread out on the pillow, and she looks real peaceful. Like that princess Snow White in the fairy tale book she used to read to me when I was little. My dad loves that I have my mom's pretty brown eyes and dark hair. He tells me that all the time. I shake my mom's shoulder a little when she still doesn't answer me. Then my mom plops over onto her back, real stiff like a wax figure we saw once at a museum. She must be sleeping heavy. A pill bottle falls out of the bed covers when she plops over. I pick it up and put the bottle back on her dresser so she can find it when she wakes up.
"MOM?" I call her name a lot louder this time.
Still no answer. I crawl up on the bed and grab my mom's shoulders, shaking her as hard as I can. But she won't wake up. I feel so scared. Something is wrong with my mom. Then I remember what Major Becker said. I run down the hallway and out the front door so fast that the screen door bangs again. Angela only lives five houses down from me. Her dad will know how to wake my mom up. Everything will be OK.
Evan Granger Mc Donald, 9 years old October 15th, 1995, Joint Base Cape Cod, Mass
I feel really sad all the time. Mad too. Mad at my dad and step-mom. They won't take me to visit my mom's grave, and they act like she never existed. At least during the summer I could borrow Angela Becker's old bike and ride down to Old Silver Beach. Even though Angela’s old bike is pink and has a basket on it and everything, I still borrow it. Take Conner Avenue to Country Road, then turn on Quaker Road. It’s a super long way, just over nine miles each way. I go almost every day and usually stop halfway at Silver Beach Pizza and Seafood in order to sweep and mop the restaurant out. Mr. Santora gives me two slices of pizza and a big drink before I leave and pedal the rest of the way to Old Silver Beach.
I ride down to Old Silver Beach and sit on the rocks, and thinking about my mom and how much I miss her. If I close my eyes, I can remember all the things that made her the best mom ever. My mom did lots of things for me every single day. Like she always made a smiley face with the chocolate chips when she made pancakes, threw the football with me, helped me with my homework, read me stories, and she made dinner just about every single night. She was real pretty too. Her long black hair was always blowing in the breeze, she laughed all the time, and she smelled like flowers. Sometimes I would help my mom cook, and we would pretend the spoon was a microphone, and we were in a band. My mom loved to sing when she cooked.
In the summertime, my mom and I came to the beach almost every afternoon. Sometimes I brought my friends too, but lots of times it was just my mom and me. I even remember how she helped me catch little blue crabs under the rocks at Old Silver Beach. Even though my mom was kind of scared of the crabs, she still helped me find them. That's how awesome my mom was. Sometimes we would make a huge sandcastle with a moat and everything, and then I would release all of the crabs into the moat. My mom would help me defend the castle with my GI Joes. Lots of times we would go fishing and swimming too. My mom was a great swimmer. Sometimes when I watch the waves now, I imagine I can see my mom out in the water, ready to walk out of a wave like she is a mermaid from her favorite story.
When I close my eyes, I can imagine everything. I don't think my mom meant to leave me. No matter what my dad says. I mean she even made me my spaghetti dinner and there were three places set at the dinner table too. Like my mom was planning to eat dinner with me. Why would she do that if she wanted to leave?
I don't think my dad is sad at all. One day when I came home from the beach, I found out that he and Amy took all of the photos of my mom out of the house and threw them in the trash. Like she was garbage. All of her clothes too. I snuck out and grabbed all the photos from the garbage can. When I found my mom's robe that she always wore, I pulled it out too. Put them all in my secret hiding place in my closet. Sometimes at night I take them out and look at them, I can still smell my mom's perfume on the robe, but it seems like every day the smell gets a little less.
Sometimes I wonder if one day I will forget what Mom smelled like, how good it felt when she gave me hugs or the way she would run outside in a thunderstorm to watch the lighting on our porch. I think about those things over and over, so I don't forget. I even wrote them down in a notebook. I don't understand why my mom left me. Sometimes I feel really mad at my mom for leaving me all alone. Then I miss her so badly that my chest hurts and I have to rub it to get it to stop.
Evan Granger Mc Donald December 26th, 1995, Cape Cod Hospital, Mass
I look in the big window at the hospital, and all I see are babies. My dad says it's called a nursery. Even though I thought nurseries were where you go to buy plants and trees. Some of the babies have pink hats, and some have blue hats. Guess that way people can tell if the babies are boys or girls without having to check their diapers. I look at my dad and see how happy he looks, and I want to punch him right in the nuts.
My dad is standing next to this giant heat lamp, talking to the pretty nurse that's taking care of all of those babies. In a clear little crib between the two of them is my new little brother, David Christopher Mc Donald. My dad seems to think that David is a real cute baby. But I think he looks like one of those chickens they have spinning on a rack at the grocery store.
I didn't want a new brother, and I sure didn't want a new mom. My dad went and married Amy a month ago. I guess because she was going to have my brother. Two months after my mom died, Amy started having sleep overs. Hah. Pretty sure they weren't a lot of sleeping going on. More like kissing and other gross stuff.
I figured out pretty quickly that my dad and Amy were having an affair. That's what it's called when you kiss someone you aren't married to. It's against the law to have an affair when you are in the military. I know that now because my dad got in a lot of trouble with his commander. After Major Becker saw what my mom did to herself by taking all those pills, he made sure my dad answered for it. That's called a Captain's Mast. Even though Major Becker isn't a Captain. Which is kind of confusing? But he is my dad's commanding officer.
After the Captain's Mast, my dad came home really mad because he isn't a Chief Petty Officer anymore. Just a Petty Officer. My dad yelled at me for bringing Major Becker in the house the night my mom died and took away my bike. He even told me that it's my fault that he isn't a Chief anymore. I guess that's why he doesn't play catch with me like he used to. My dad used to spend a lot of time with me. Throwing a football and going fishing. We had campouts all the time too. Not anymore. I wonder if maybe he doesn't like doing things with me because I look like my mom.
I hear David crying and look down at his little crib through the glass window. His face is all scrunched up, and he looks angry. Good. I know that I hate my new brother. He caused this whole thing. If it weren't for David, my mom would still be alive. I just know it. It seemed like every week Amy's belly just got bigger, and bigger and I knew David was hiding out in there. Happy because he was growing and my mom was dead. I'm never going to love him. Never. As soon as I get old enough, I'm going to leave. My mom left me her all life insurance money. Made my dad mad. But it makes me happy to see my dad mad. I hate him. I smile when I see my new brother screaming, Good. I hope he does nothing but cry.
Evan Granger Mc Donald – 10 years old, February 17th, 1996; Joint Base Cape Cod, Mass
All David does is cry. And cry. My dad says he has cowlick. I don't know what that means, but I know that David won't stop crying. Makes Amy real upset and my ears rattle. I still haven't held David. Amy says I will drop him. Which is stupid because I can catch a football and I never drop it. Well hardly ever. I don't want to hold the stupid baby anyway. He is not my brother. I don't care what my dad says.
I hear him crying again and don't hear Amy talking to him likes she usually does. Amy uses a sweet voice when she talks to David around my dad. But when my dad isn't home, she yells at David a lot. Only this time I don't hear her screaming; I don't hear anything but the TV and David. David's crying just ramps up, and it changes to a really high screeching sound. Maybe something is wrong with him.
What do you care Evan? He caused mom to take all of those pills.
Except for this time I remember something, my mom told me once after I got in a fight at school. About forgiving those who trespass against you. At first, I thought she meant forgiving people who go on your lawn. But then my mom explained about forgiving people that hurt your feelings. Then she read me a story about how Jesus loved little children the best. I rub my chest a little and push the pain away, creeping down the hallway to Amy and my dad's room. The same room he shared with my real mom. I start to see red again, but it goes away when I look in the bedroom and see Amy sleeping and David still crying. His face is super red too.
I tiptoe in and look down at David in his little crib. I touch his head real gentle, and his hair feels so soft. Just like Angela's new kitten. When David opens his eyes and looks at me, something really strange happens. He stops crying. I'm so surprised that I smile down at him and forgetting for a second that I'm supposed to hate him. And David smiles back. A really big smile that goes over his whole face and makes him kinda cute. Then David grabs my finger and holds onto it real tight. Like maybe he is scared I will leave him alone. I decide right then to forgive him. Just like my mom would want me too. My real mom.
I pick David up very carefully. Just like I have seen my dad do. I keep my right hand underneath his head, and I put my left hand under his butt, then put him on my shoulder. We go over and sit down in the rocking chair in the corner. The rocking chair that my mom used to sit in when she read me stories. I want to rub my chest again, but I know I can't let go of David. Instead, I put him in the crook of my arm, just like I do when I catch a football and have to run for a touchdown. David looks real happy like in the crook of my arm. He smiles again, and my heart feels all funny. Maybe it's OK if I hate my dad and step-mom but love my brother? I think my mom would want that.
Evan Granger Mc Donald, 17 years old; San Diego, California
"Seriously man? You are bailing on a party at Michelle Smith's house to take your kid brother camping? You need your head examined. She was all over you at the football game last night. Pretty sure you could get a piece of that pie no problem," my best friend, Travis, says in disbelief.
For a second, I contemplate canceling the camping trip. Michelle has a seriously talented mouth and a pair of tits that should get some kinda Presidential Prize for Excellence.
I feel a tug on my Levis and look down to see David looking up at me with eager blue eyes and that cute little dimple. Staring at me like I am his hero and everything good in the world. Aww, shit.
"Man, I already told you I'm not coming. I promised my kid brother," I smile down at his anxious face and give his sandy-brown hair a ruffle with my hand. "Man, why don't you try your luck with her. No hard feelings if you get to tap that."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Michelle's probably got crabs or something anyway. Talk to you later."
I close my cell phone and kneel down to David's level, bringing his chin up to meet my gaze. "So you're all set, buddy? Got your pocket knife, sleeping bag, an extra pair of socks?"
"Yep. Got the list you made me of everything I need. Even remembered my fishing pole and my tackle box." The little dimple in his cheek flashes at me and I feel a glow of warmth in my chest and extend my fist for a fist pump. David pulls back and knocks his small fist into mine, putting all his weight into the swing. I grin and shake my fist out as if he injured me.
"That's my main man. Getting pretty wicked with those fist bumps. Gonna have to work on bulking up some more so I can keep up with you." He grins, looking ridiculously pleased. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
"Does your friend Michelle have crabs? Can we go see them?" David asks, bouncing on his heels with excitement.
"Umm, I'm actually not sure if she has crabs. A friend told me she did but I haven't seen them for myself. Why don't I take you down to the tidal pool, and we can try to catch some of our own?" I can feel my neck get hot from the lie, but no way am I ready to have that conversation with my kid brother.
"You swear? Honest?"
"Absolutely, let's head there now. We got three or four more hours before we have to check in at the campground. Should be plenty of time to catch us some seafood."
David does a little fist pump in the air, "YEESSSS!" Grabs my hand and we head off to terrorize the local crab population. I spend every moment I can chasing him around, exploring the tidal pools, showing him how to hook a fishing line.
Later that night he snuggles into the crook of my shoulder with a sigh, asking me for a story. I tell him all about Moby Dick as we watch the stars and lay on top of the sleeping bags that are too hot for a California summer. Somehow, tomorrow I have to find a way to tell David that I'm going to be leaving for boot camp in a month. I rub my chest when the flash of pain overwhelms me and pray to God that David will understand one day. Things with Dad are so awful that I don't have a choice, I need to get the hell out of the house. I just never expected the scrawny baby born eight years ago to have this much hold of my heart.
Evan Granger 27 years old Walter Reed National Naval Medical Center, December 26, 2003, 6 AM
"What the hell do you mean, he isn't in his room?" I demand in a voice so fierce my drill instructor would wince.
"Sir, with all due respect, please calm down. There are other sick patients on this unit. David checked himself out a little after midnight." The nurse cringes a little when I lean over the counter, and I curse myself for letting my temper get the best of me.
I pause to read the cute little Filipino nurse's badge, "Lt. Garulacan. Please explain to me how a 17-year-old kid can check himself out of the hospital?"
"It's December 26th, Lt. Granger. David turned 18 years old at one minute after midnight. Legally, he was an adult. I tried to stop him, but he refused to listen. I care about both David and Mary very much. Believe me; I am worried about them too; they are two of my favorite patients. Heck, I even introduced them. I feel so responsible, " Lt. Garulacan starts to make little hiccup noises as the big tears that were pooling in her eyes start to drip down her cheeks.
"Who the hell is Mary? What does she have to do with this?" I ask between gritted teeth. I realize that I'm pulling on my dog tags when the Lt. shoots me a puzzled look.
"I thought you said David is your brother? Why would you not know who Mary is?" Lt. Garulacan asks with narrowed eyes and a challenging gaze.
"I am David's half-brother. I'm a Navy SEAL, been on a recon mission on radio silence for the last six months. David had just relapsed when I left. But he was doing really well. I tried to get out of the deployment, but my commanding officer wouldn't approve my request." My patience is being sorely tested.
"Well, I guess it's OK to tell you that Mary is David's girlfriend. They are pretty serious about each other. I suppose she is the one that picked him up tonight," she adds, looking guilty at sharing that information.
"Why would she do that? My dad said that David is very ill. He needs to be in the hospital where he can get better," I ball my fist and hit my palm in frustration.
The Lt. shrugs, looking thoroughly perplexed. "Your dad claimed that Mary wanted some jewelry David has in his possession. But that makes no sense to me. Mary comes from a terrific family. I think she just wanted to help David," she speculates this softly as if she is afraid to give voice to the sentiment.
"What is this Mary trying to help my brother with? Help him do what?" I bark out, suddenly feeling the back of my neck itch.
"Lt. Granger, I'm afraid you are not going to like my answer. I believe David asked Mary to help him die," Lt. Garulacan completely loses her cool, burying her face in her hands and sobbing at the nurse's station desk.
I feel a bone deep grief fill my soul, then terror swift and sure cuts through me like a bullet. This stupid flighty teenager, Mary, has taken my brother away from me. A small piece of my soul is ripped into shreds as anger, rage, and hate for this girl pours in and starts to fester. Somehow, someday, this Mary is going to pay for taking my goodbye away.