Hendrix
I had the rented car and driver drop me off at the front of my neighborhood, at the convenience store I was convicted of robbing. Seemed poetic. Like an Eminem lyric. Raw, bloody, straight to the gut.
Heat comes up off the pavement, making the already sweltering night suffocating. The neighborhood’s dark. Decrepit row after row of broken houses and hopelessness. Enter all those who are destined to fail and be doomed.
Like a lighthouse shining from the Dead Sea, my house glows. Lights from the living room and the garage a beacon. My family’s in the garage—Axle, Dominic, Kellen and our newest addition, Marcus. Loud laughter rolls down the driveway and echoes into the night. It’s my family, almost all of my family, but almost isn’t good enough. Not anymore. Not after what I lost today.
A shadow of a person moving behind the blinds in the living room and instead of heading around back to where life might be easy, I go for the front door. Inside, Thor greets me in that way only a dog can. With complete unconditional love. A quick scratch behind the ears, but then I ignore the ball he drops at my feet.
Holiday grins at me from the recliner. “Hey, Drix. Where’ve you been? Kellen says she saw one of those fancy town cars pick you up. Does that mean you had a campaign function today? If so, how’s Elle?”
In the middle of the living room, I stare down at Holiday. I’m not even two years older than her, but she’s still my little sister. I’m the one who poured milk in her cereal for her when she couldn’t carry a gallon jug. I’d sit for hours and play with her, whatever game she wanted, when she was sure her mom was going to show and she never did.
I’m the one who messed up by focusing more on myself than on anyone else. I’ve broken a few hearts tonight. It’s time to break one more. Maybe someday, she’ll forgive me. “You need to break up with Jeremy.”
Her smile falls, and her chin juts out as she goes into fight mode. “You need to butt out.”
“He treats you like crap.”
“He loves me.”
“He doesn’t love you. He does his best to own you. Those are two different things.”
She pushes out of the chair and to her feet. “I’m not talking to you about Jeremy.”
Sounds good to me. “Then let’s talk about you.”
Holiday leans into me, all pissed-off rage. “What about me?”
“You aren’t alone.”
Her eyes narrow like she didn’t understand me. “What?”
“You aren’t alone anymore. Me, Axle, you—we never had roots. We were weeds trying to survive growing up in the cracks of the concrete. All of our parents? Worthless. But sometimes we had each other. I get that, as a kid, that wasn’t enough. I understand wanting something solid. I understand wishing that there was someone out there who wanted and loved me. I also understood being pissed off that person after person had that stability and I never did. I understand feeling alone. I understand making stupid choice after stupid choice, searching for something to fill the hole that sucked the life out of me.”
“What does that have to do with Jeremy?”
“Everything! You’re trying to fill that hole, and you’re filling it with some asshole who makes you feel loved for thirty seconds, then makes you feel like dirt for ten so he can control you with a snap of his fingers. That’s not love. Love is Axle working ten hour days to put food on the table, but still paints your room when he gets home at night. It’s me moving the furniture in your room every other day until you’re happy. It’s us. It’s this family.”
“But what if you leave again?” she yells so loudly I go completely still. Holiday shakes from head to toe. One convulsion after the other. “What if you leave? You left and Axle was never home and Dad’s gone and my mom’s gone and Grandma hasn’t remembered who I am in years. Everyone I love goes. It’s what happens and he’s been here. He only leaves if I tell him to leave, and I don’t want to be alone.” Holiday slams her hand against her chest. “I don’t want to be alone.”
Her hurt rattles through my body and ends up slicing open a portion of my already battle-weary soul. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m home. I’m staying home. I’ll stay here for as long you need, and if I’m not around, I’ll be there the moment you need me. I love you, and I love you enough to tell you you’re ruining your life. I love you enough to beg you to break up with that asshole, and if my love isn’t enough, that’s fine, but love yourself. Love yourself to not let some bastard continue to treat you like crap.”
I yank the still frame image from the convenience store shooting out of my back pocket, unfold it and shove the picture into her hands. “That’s the person who robbed the convenience store. That’s the bastard who framed me and sent me to jail. Take a good look at the tattoo. That’s Jeremy. I told Axle I’d keep my mouth shut about him, but I won’t anymore, and I’m pushing hard. It’s him or me, Holiday. I can’t stand by and watch this guy slowly kill you anymore. And so you know, I hope to God you choose me.”
Because that’s my only proof I have of my innocence, I grab the paper from her, and as I circle the room for a place to go, the walls close in.
My room no longer belongs to me, but to Elle. If I go up there, the memory of holding her in my bed will crush me. The rest of this house belongs to Holiday. She’s the one who needs to feel like this is her home, she’s the one who needs the stability.
Me? I belong on the streets. A buzz of my cell, a quick look, and it’s Cynthia asking me to give her a call. Screw that. I’m done being anyone’s dancing monkey. At least for tonight. I drop the phone on the futon, and I walk out the door. Thor follows.