Sixty Three
Ayden
The next morning I drove back out to Ash’s sprawling Hampton mansion. I marveled again at the sheer size of it.
I picked up with my story right where I left off.
Ash sat looking at me incredulously. “So, what am I supposed to do, Ayden? Am I supposed to feel sorry for you because our mother was a drug abusing bitch? You aren’t telling me anything new. She left me when I was seven years old without so much as a phone call or a letter!” Ash slammed down his empty glass. I stared at the few droplets of liquor that sloshed out of it onto the glass tabletop.
I leaned back crossing my ankle over my knee. Ash just wasn’t going to let that go. He had no idea just how good he’d had it. “No, Ash, I don’t. I’m just telling you like it is. You think you had it so hard because she left you? Consider that a gift, Ash. You grew up with….that…that beautiful man.” My words choked up in my throat.
Ash’s eyes blazed as he stared at me.
I hadn’t cried in years, but being in this office with his things around….it was all too much.
“Dad, you mean?”
I nodded. “You have no idea how much I longed for him when I was growing up, Ash. I had this game I used to play. ‘Who’s my Dad?’ In it, I used to write down all the qualities I wanted in a dad on tiny pieces of paper. I would put them in a box and shake them up. Then I would pull out exactly seven pieces of paper and from that build my perfect father.” I laughed remembering those awkwardly cut pieces of paper how thick the construction paper felt between my fingers.
“Why seven?”
I shrugged. “Because I was seven years old at the time, I guess. Anyway, some of the qualities Ashler did have. He was tall, I got that right. He was rich, kind, and handsome. I don’t know if he was fun to be around. Was he?”
Ash smiled. “Yeah, he was. That old fucker….right after Debra left he was supposed to go on another business trip to Milan. He cancelled it and took me to Coney Island. I’d been several times already, but he threw everything aside to take me. That’s the only place I could think of where I wouldn’t hurt anymore.”
“I’ve never been,” I said wistfully.
“It’s a lot of fun when you’re small. A lot of cheesy rides and roller coasters. Dad, he got sick on rides so he usually didn’t get on them, but that day he rode every ride with me and puked at least ten times!” Ash couldn’t stop smiling at the memory.
My heart ached. I was burning with jealousy. How I’d been cheated! “Must have been nice.” I bit my lip. It was pitch black outside. The ocean roared beating against the shoreline.
“It was, Ayden. What was your point about Debra? What happened when you were twelve?”
“Ten not twelve.” I sighed recalling the pain.
“Right.”
I leaned forward and pulled out my e-cigarette. “Mind if I smoke?”
Ash shook his head.
Taking a long drag from it, I felt myself falling back into the clutches of my dark past.
The alarm screaming woke me up with a start. I flew up in my bed. Rubbing the pain in my back, I wondered if I hadn’t fallen out of bed again in the middle of the night.
Then I remembered.
She’d come home drunk again as usual around 2:00. I heard an extra set of footsteps with her so I knew she wasn’t alone. Hearing someone with her meant I was supposed to stay in my room until morning. But my throat had been hurting and I needed a glass of water.
Slowly, I inched my door open. Peering down the hall, I didn’t see anyone. They must’ve already went into her room.
Slipping down the hall, I threw open the door to the kitchen.
That’s when I saw them.
Mom with some fat, sloppy guy with a full beard groping her all over. Her top was off and her breasts exposed. They were soft and saggy hanging almost to her waist. The nipples were all mottled and bumpy. Immediately, I turned away sickened. The old guy had his shirt off too showing his pale flabby stomach.
I bit my lip and ducked down. I didn’t think they had seen me as they kept grabbing each other and moaning.
Finally, the old guy yanked her skirt up and pulled out his old, wrinkled….
I began to retch then I vomited on the tile floor. Some of it splashed up onto my shorts.
“Ayden! What the fuck are you doing up?” Mom screamed as she pulled up her top.
The old guy just stood there naked and stared at me.
“I wanted some water.” I tried to wipe the vomit from my mouth. Shaking all over, I inched away from her.
Stumbling towards me, Mom tightened her fist. “Ayden, I fucking told you to stay in your room. I meant it. I’m working now.” Her eyes were bloodshot. She could barely stand and her nose was dripping with clear mucus.
“Mom, I—”
“I’ll take care of this little fucker, Debs.” The old guy pulled up his pants. In a flash, he was on me. His hands wrapped around my neck slamming me to the hard, tile floor. My face landed right next to my own vomit. It smelled sour.
“I’ll tell this little shit some manners!” He yanked off his belt and brought it down with all his might lashing me across the ass.
Screaming in pain, I tried to wiggle away from him, but he was too strong. He lifted me up with one hand and threw me across the room like a rag doll. I tried to call out to Mom to help me, but he picked me back up and pounded me in the face until my eyes swelled nearly shut.
“Mom,” I whispered as I fell to the ground. Blood poured from my nose and I feared it was broken. I’d never experienced such pain in my life.
“It’s your own fault, Ayden. I told you to go to your room!” She screamed smashing her wine glass to the floor.
I shuffled off down the hall as fast as I could. I was terrified the old guy would have another go at me. Locking my door, I collapsed on my bed. I grabbed an old t shirt and held it to my bleeding face. I discovered propping my head up on pillows would allow me to rest a bit. My eyes were so swollen I could barely see. Tears seeped through my engorged eyelids soaking my cheeks.
How could she have let him do that to me? She’d always said she loved me. Why?
Finally, I found myself drifting off to sleep.
When morning came, I could only move with great difficulty. I considered asking to stay home from school, but if that old guy was still here, I didn’t want to be here.
Slowly, I slid off my bed. My back was stiff as a board. I stumbled down the hall to the bathroom locking myself in.
Glancing in the mirror, I saw the swelling in my eyes had gone down quite a bit. My eyes were blackened and there was a bluish tint to my nose. I just couldn’t go to school like this!
Just then, I heard the old man’s voice booming down the hall. There was no way I was staying here!
I threw open the medicine cabinet and dabbed a bit of Mom’s concealer on my face. After I got done, I thought I’d done a pretty good job. It still looked as if I’d been in a fight, but at least now, I didn’t look as if I’d been beaten to a pulp.
Grabbing my backpack, I ran out of the house and all the way to school.
Several kids noticed the marks on my face and commented on how I moved so stiffly. Most teased me about losing a fight to Scott Frailey, the biggest bully in the school.
The day had gone as well as I could have given the circumstances when Ms. Pope pulled me aside as I was getting onto the bus.
“What’s going on?” I demanded. Ms. Pope was the school counselor.
“I just have a few questions for you, Ayden.” She smiled at me leading me to her office. I didn’t like it. Something bad was going to happen I could feel it.
Closing the door, she gestured to me to sit down.
“I’m going to miss the bus, Ms. Pope.”
She cleared her throat. She studied my face for a bit. “Ayden, how are things at home?”
I shrugged. “Okay, I guess. Why?” I looked at the window. The bus was loaded up and was about to shut its’ doors. “Ms. Pope, I’m going to miss the bus! I have to go!” I stood up to leave.
She walked around to sit beside me. “Never mind that, Ayden. I’ll see to it you get a ride. How are things at home?”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Can I go now?”
She reached up to brush my cheek.
I winced and leaned away.
“Ayden, love, what happened to your face? Did you get in a fight?” Her voice was so loving, so kind.
I shook my head.
She knew I was lying.
“I just fell.” I knew it sounded lame as soon as the words came out. She’d never buy it.
“Fell? How?”
“Off my bed. It’s a bunk bed, you know, one of those really tall ones. Anyway, I slept on the top bunk and rolled off in the middle of the night. I’m not used to sleeping up there. Scared the heck out of me, Ms. Pope! I woke up face down on the floor.” My lies came tumbling out of me fast.
Her eyes never left my face. “Ayden, it’s not your fault, honey. Sometimes bad things happen. I want you to know you can tell me anything.”
Gazing outside, I watched the buses leave one by one. I wasn’t going home. I knew it. I was racked with great sobs. “She…it wasn’t her fault, Ms. Pope. It was him!”
“Who? Your father?”
I shook my head. The waterworks were on full blast now. There was no stopping me. “Some lame guy she brought home! She was working. It wasn’t my mom’s fault. She can’t work a regular day job.”
Ms. Pope just nodded. She handed me a blue tissue. “Can I see your injuries, Ayden?”
I shook my head. “No, Ms. Pope, I just want to go home now.” I tried cleaning my face up. The tissue was smeared with the makeup I’d tried to apply.
Now I must really look a mess. She could surely see my black eyes now.
“I can have Mr. Baxter come in if you’re not comfortable with me.” Mr. Baxter was the coach. He was pretty cool and laid back.
I nodded slowly.
“Ms. Phillips, can you have Coach Baxter come to my office immediately.”
In minutes, Coach Baxter’s smiling face appeared. “Donovan! You again? Thought we got rid of you! It’s almost 3:30!” He shook his head.
I tried to smile.
Ms. Pope whispered to Coach Baxter.
His smile quickly faded. “Okay, Donovan, Ms. Pope is just going to step out for a moment.”
She left as I sat there feeling the twisted knots of doom in my stomach.
Coach Baxter smiled down at me. “Ms. Pope filled me in, Ayden. Everything is going to be okay. You’re not in trouble, I promise.” He nodded I should lift my shirt.
Gently, I pulled my Soundgarden t-shirt up. My ribs ached terribly. It hurt to take deep breaths.
Coach Baxter sucked in his breath. “Ayden, who did this to you?” His voice was more serious than I’d ever heard it.
Instantly, I became filled with fear. “I fell.”
He looked into my face. “No, Ayden, you didn’t. Someone hurt you very badly. I need to know who.”
I looked down. “I don’t know his name. Some guy my mom brought home last night.” I bit my lip as I tried not to look at him.
“What guy? Is it her boyfriend?”
I shook my head. “No, just some random guy. A client.”
His eyes widened. “I see. Can I bring Ms. Pope back in?”
I nodded. I wished they’d just let me leave.
They spoke outside in the hall for a few minutes. She gestured to Ms. Phillips, the school secretary who gasped then nodded.
“Ayden, we’re going to have to call CPS. This cannot happen again.”
“NO!” I screamed bolting towards the door.
Coach Baxter quickly caught me and pulled me back to the chair. “Ayden, whoever hurt you may hurt your mom too. You don’t want that.”
I shook my head. “No, he’s her client! He’s not going to hurt her. She needs him to make money.” I clasped my hand over my mouth. I was never supposed to tell. Now everyone would know she was a hooker.
“Ayden, it’s not safe for you there. I think your mom needs some time to get things straightened out in her own life. Then she can take better care of you.” Ms. Pope sat beside me.
I looked down at the floor. My back ached terribly. My ribs hurt more and more with each passing minute.
“And you need to see a doctor, honey. Coach Baxter said you may have some broken ribs based on the extensive bruising he’s seeing there.”
“What’s going to happen?”
Ms. Pope smiled and took my hand. “A very nice lady is going to come and take you to a wonderful home. It’s just for few days until we can get your mom some help.”
I thought about it. Maybe this is what Mom needed to straighten her life out. Maybe then she’d be a good mom.
Or maybe….
“I have a dad!” I exclaimed.
“Where is he?”
My shoulders sagged.
“I don’t know. I never met him.”
“Do you know his name?”
I shook my head sadly.
“Well, this is just for a little while. First, the lady will take you to the doctor. Give you some medicine to help you feel better.”
The door swung open and a beautiful lady with golden curls extended her hand to me. “Hi, I’m Ms. James, but you can call me Sue. I’m from CPS and I’m here to take you to the doctor, okay?”
I looked back at Coach Baxter and Ms. Pope.
She had tears in her eyes and he gave me a shaky smile. “We’ll be seeing you, champ. Feel better.” Ms. Pope threw her arms around me. “It’s going to be okay, Ayden.”
“But, Ash… it wasn’t…” I trailed off.
“So you went into foster care?” Ash’s eyes widened. The fire in the fireplace was dwindling down to ashes.
I nodded and sucked on my e cig. “Yep. And it’s as bad as you’d expect. They told me I’d go back home in a week. Then, it was a month which turned into six months which turned into a year. Mom had to enter drug treatment which she refused to do for six months. Finally, they threatened her with terminating her rights. I got bounced from foster home to foster home for seven months. Finally, they placed me in a home I liked. The parents were well to do and treated me kindly. I attended a private school and for the first time got to play sports like normal boys. Ash, I was so happy at the Carltons’. They couldn’t have kids of their own, so they were happy to have me. Mrs. C was a cardiac surgeon and Mr. C was a software engineer. They had a fancy house and gave me everything I wanted. It was definitely a step up from living in a two bedroom row house on the south side. The Carltons lived on the Gold Coast.”
“Why didn’t they adopt you?”
“Why do you think?” I laughed bitterly.
Ash looked bewildered.
“The fucking system, Ash. Mom got her shit together at the last minute and they pulled me out of there. Sent me back to live in her shitty dump. Within weeks, she was back on smack, meth and coke. Went right back to hooking too. I was shattered. After that, I started using hard shit.”
“What?” Ash’s face went pale. His hands twisted in his lap.
I nodded dragging on the e cig. “My life was fucked. I figured why not fuck it up even more? I’d lost the only people who’d ever really cared for me-the Carltons. I watched Mom use daily for years. I was old enough now to do it too. So, after I had to leave the private school, I never cared about my grades anymore. I figured I had no future. I started skipping school and snorting coke.”
“What did Debra do?”
I laughed. “Not a fucking thing. She was so glad I was out of her hair. She was so doped up she didn’t realize I stole money from her all the time. I used every spare dime I had to buy dope. Soon, I moved up to harder shit.”
Ash shook his head. “My God, Ayden, I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything. Let me talk. I’ve waited for years to tell someone all this.”
2001
Life on the streets was as hard as you’d imagine. Finding ways to score drugs wasn’t too hard as long as you were ready, willing, and able to break the law which, of course, I was.
Finding fellow drug addicts to crash with was never an issue either. As soon as I hit the streets, I quickly found a place to live.
The place was dilapidated on the outside. The shutters were falling off and the front door had a huge hole punched in it. Several of the windows were shattered and the people living inside had tried to patch them unsuccessfully with cardboard.
Inside, the air of decay permeated the house. Some girls living there had tried to put up some decorations-a few pictures hung haphazardly on the wall. At one time, they may have made the place homier, but now they just looked sad. The house reeked of sweat, smoke, and urine. The few pieces of furniture left were in terrible disrepair. The sofa only had two legs so it sank to the floor on one side. The kitchen table was covered in pizza boxes, paper plates, and bags. Roaches scurried out from the boxes whenever anyone attempted to touch the table. The faucet dripped constantly. There was a refrigerator, but it looked like it hadn’t worked since the 80s.
The upstairs was no better. There were two bedrooms and a stained mattress in each one. The floors were littered with trash and used syringes.
Walking through the house, I was beyond disgusted. Still, I was on my own with no place to go. I’d hit the proverbial rock bottom. Every time I fixed I could feel my life slowly draining from me as the heroin filled my veins. Why was I doing this? I’d watched my mother throw away the better part of her life shooting up and here I was doing the exact same thing. Yet, I had nothing going for me or so I thought.
Shaking my head, I stood up. I felt a draft behind me. My jeans were completely ripped out. The t-shirt I was wearing I’d had on for at least a week. Reaching up, I rubbed my hand over my unshaven face. Slowly, I walked into the bathroom. I turned the faucet on only to have dark brown water gush out. I let it run for a moment until it turned clear. I stuck my hands under the cool water and splashed my face.
Glancing up, I noted my reflection in the cracked mirror. My eyes were bloodshot and my face looked much older than my fifteen years.
The blood drained from my face.
It was my mother staring back at me from the mirror.
In horror, I stepped back hitting my head on the shower rod which was hanging lopsided from the ceiling. The tile floor on the bathroom was cracked and the wallpaper was peeling off the walls. The window in the bathroom was shattered and glass littered the floor.
Stumbling out of the bathroom, I spied a pretty young blonde with glazed eyes sitting on one of the mattresses. She had a small pink bag in her hand.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” I gestured to an empty space next to her on the mattress. The room was filled with people in various stages of undress. Most of them were high on something just lying there spaced out.
“Sure,” she said, watching me as I sat down.
On closer inspection, she was even prettier. Her eyes were blue-green and almond shaped. Her hair was long and hung straight down her back. Her tits were full pressing against the white tank top she wore. I suspected she couldn’t be older than eighteen.
“I’ve never seen you here before. Where are you from?” She clutched her bag closer to her.
“Here. I grew up on Saline Street.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? I lived two streets over. Crestline.”
Smiling, I began to relax a bit. She must’ve gone to my school at one time. “How old are you?” I asked staring at the bag she held in a death grip. She either had money or drugs in there.
“How old do you think I am?” She laughed.
Shrugging, I leaned closer to her. “Eighteen?”
She laughed loudly. “Nope. Just turned sixteen.”
She was nearly my age! How did I not know her? “Where’d you go to school? You had to have gone to Rosemont, right?”
She shook her head. “I haven’t been to school since…I don’t know when. I’ve been on the run for four years now.”
I nodded.
“So, what’s your name?” she asked. “Why are you here?”
“Ayden. Couldn’t take it at home anymore. My mom’s a fucking junkie, so I decided to—”
“—follow the family tradition? I get you. My stepdad couldn’t keep his fucking hands off of me. I’m Trish.”
“Good to meet you.”
I noticed a tiny gold cross she wore around her neck. “Are you a good little girl, Trish?”
“What?”
“Your necklace.”
She touched the cross. “It was my grandmother’s. She was the only person who ever loved me. She gave it to me when I had my first Communion.”
I didn’t know what Communion was, but I didn’t ask. Instead, I shifted my focus to the bag she was clutching.
She noticed my gaze had fallen to her bag. “So, Ayden, I guess you’re here because you want to get high. I got just the thing for you.”
Eagerly, I leaned forward. It had been hours since I last had anything.
Unzipping her bag, she pulled out what looked like two 8 balls, but instead of powder it was hard like rocks.
Ugh. That shit didn’t look very good. I felt myself go weak like I was going to faint. She had that much coke on her sitting in this dump? I’m surprised the junkies here hadn’t killed her.
Instead of pouring some out to snort, she pulled out another small package. Inside it was a glass pipe.
“Rock?”
She nodded. “It’s cheap and gets you high quick. You’ve never done it before?”
I shook my head.
She dropped the rock inside the pipe and flicked on her lighter. As she held the lighter beneath it, she inhaled deeply. Blowing out a plume of smoke, she handed me the pipe. “Just try it. You’ll love it.”
I was a bit hesitant. I’d heard how bad that shit fucks you up, but at this point, I was so far gone I didn’t care. I lit it up and inhaled. Instantly, I was transported. The high was ten times stronger than snorting coke. I felt like I was flying.
We ran the streets together for three years. Trish and I developed a relationship. I guess you could say I fell in love with her over the tedious chore of scoring drugs and getting high. In between those times, we actually talked with each other about our dreams of living all the shit behind us and starting a real life.
But sadly, that wasn’t in the cards for us.
2004
Sticky sweat covered my body like honey. I shivered as I tried to pull an old blanket over me. Glancing over at Trish, I saw the sweat dripping off her brow streaming down her face. Her thin t-shirt was soaked. Her lips were cracked and bleeding. Her once beautiful blonde hair hung lankly down her back.
I held my arms tightly against my stomach. I knew I was going to be sick. With a quick jolt to my stomach, I heaved and vomited all over the floor some of it splashing onto Trish.
She was so out of it she barely noticed. She was in her own hell. She tried lying down on the filthy mattress and sleeping, but she kept thrashing around. “I can’t do this anymore!” She screamed. She raced through the apartment throwing things around scouring the place for a just a tiny bit, a crumb of heroin.
“There isn’t any, Trish.” I choked between vomiting sessions. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I would’ve given anything for a fix.
Anything.
Trish grabbed me by the collar. “Help me, Ayden. Let’s get something. Coke, anything, I don’t care.”
“Coke won’t help, Trish.”
“Don’t you have any money at all, Ayden?”
I shrugged. “That’s not the problem, Trish. Everybody’s dry. I’ve called every dealer I know.”
“Then call again! Do something, Ayden. I can’t fucking take it anymore.” She cried tearing at her skin.
The apartment was infested with roaches. Several crawled across my foot, but I didn’t care. I grabbed my phone and called the only guy I could think of-Paulo. “Paulo, do you know anybody who’s holding?”
“Shit, man, I wish.”
“I mean, I’ve got the cash. I’ve gotta have just a little something. We’re sick here, man, really sick.”
“The only guy I know who may have a bit is Tico. You know his stuff.”
I swallowed hard. Tico Blanco was known for cutting his dope with plaster, quinine, or worse. Getting dope from Tico was a gamble. Sometimes it was really pure, sometimes it was cut just right, and other times…
“Shit. Tico,” I grumbled to myself.
Other times it was said his dope killed people.
“I don’t know, Paulo.”
“I’d help you, man, but all I have is powder. That’s not really gonna help you. Tico is down around Mason Avenue tonight.”
“Thanks.”
I hung up. I didn’t know what to do.
Trish came racing up to me. “Tico has some? We’re going!”
“Wait a minute, Trish, you know his stuff. Guys have died because of how he cuts it or what he cuts it with.”
She shrugged wiping her nose with her arm. “I don’t care, Ayden. I’m going to fucking die if I don’t get something.” Her eyes were blood red. Her nose was running like a faucet. She looked like death already.
I wasn’t doing too well either. I felt like my stomach was going to explode. It was bubbling inside and I couldn’t see straight. Everything seemed hazy. “He’s on Mason Avenue.”
Trish was already pulling our cash out of the hole in the wall behind the picture. “There’s enough here for both of us!”
Stuffing the cash into my pocket, we hurried out.
As we walked got out of the car on Mason Avenue, I immediately saw Tico’s gang hanging around outside the corner bar. It was late, so I knew that he probably wouldn’t have much if anything left.
Three Hispanic guys walked up to us. They were wearing black t-shirts and sagging jeans. “Hey, what’s up?”
I nodded. “Not much. Just looking for Tico, man.”
“You Ayden? I seen you around before with that hot chica.” He nodded toward towards Trish.
“Yep. Listen, man, me and my girl we’re hurting bad. Is Tico around?”
The guys looked at each other. In the distance, we could hear the wail of police sirens and gunfire. “Yeah, he’s upstairs.”
The short, chubby one stopped us. “You guys got money, right?”
I nodded at Trish to flash them a bit of cash. We always split our money between us that way if one of us got robbed we wouldn’t be broke. We also never let them know how much money we actually had. Dealers were notorious for upping the price once they knew you had more money.
We followed the trio into the bar to the back. There was a pair of double doors chained shut. One of them opened it with a key and we walked into a stairwell. The air was full of smoke and reeked of urine. I squeezed Trish’s hand as we walked up the steep stairs to the third floor.
Throwing open the door to the third floor, we walked down a roach infested hallway to the only apartment there.
One of the guys knocked three times then twice. The door flew open and there stood an enormous Hispanic guy with a .45 shoved in our faces. “Who you got there?”
The tall thin guy held his hands up. “It’s my boy, Ayden. He’s cool. He’s got cash. They’re looking for Tico.”
He stepped aside and jerked his head towards the bedroom.
The tall thin guy led us to the bedroom. “He’s not in the best mood tonight. Just tell him what you want and get out.”
I walked in and stood in front of him.
He had black hair that fell forward in his face. His skin was quite dark as he was from Mexico. He spoke with a heavy accent. “So, white boy, what you lookin’ for?” He asked without even glancing up.
“Whatever you got.”
He looked up and growled at me. “Whatever I got? Well, that doesn’t narrow it down much.” He glimpsed the track marks on my arm. “Ahhh. You want the smack, no? Getting harder to come by. I’m waiting for my boys to bring me back some good shit from Mexico.”
“So, you don’t have anything?” Trish was beginning to panic.
He looked past me to Trish. He eyed her up and down slowly. “For this chica, I could come up with something.” Tico jumped off the bed and pulled out a metal box. Unlocking it, he produced a balloon. He dipped his finger into it and showed us the tip. “Would this do?”
It was white. I was skeptical. It could’ve been cocaine. I would need to dab a bit on my tongue to test it. “May I?” I asked leaning forward.
He jerked the balloon back. “She can.”
Eagerly, Trish dipped her finger into the powder. Dabbing it onto her tongue, she beamed. “It’s good!” She nearly jumped up and down.
“Two bills.”
“What?” My eyes bulged.
“Two bills, you heard me.”
Normally, that balloon wouldn’t even be a hundred dollars. Now this asshole wanted two hundred dollars!
Still, we were desperate and that prick knew that the supply on this side of town had dried up. “Fine.” I tossed him the two bills and we fled.
Racing back to the car, I knew Trish would want to get high before we got home. I had anticipated that and hadn’t brought our works with us.
Trish immediately opened the glove box. She tore through it furiously searching for a set of works. “Dammit, Ayden! Where’s the works?”
I smiled at her and shook my head. “You’ll have to wait until we get home.”
Her eyes blazed with fury at me. She spat at me. “You fucker! You did that on purpose!”
I wiped her spittle from my cheek. “Trish, it’s just a few miles. Calm the fuck down.” I swatted her thigh.
She pouted all the way back to our apartment.
As soon as we got upstairs, I quickly locked the door to our apartment. Trish raced to the cabinet to dig out some fresh syringes. I already had the powder laid out as we each grabbed a lighter and a spoon.
“Do you have a tourniquet?” I asked her looking around.
She shook her head. “Can’t find a good vein. Last time I had to shoot in my foot.”
Feeling concerned for her, I sat my own needle aside to see what she was going to do.
“I want to shoot in my neck. Do you think you can help me, Ayden?” Her green eyes pleaded with me.
“I don’t know, Trish. Isn’t that a bit dangerous?”
She shrugged. “Not any more dangerous than shooting anywhere else. I’ve done it before. It’s just a bitch to try and do yourself.” She held the lighter beneath the spoon as soon as it got hot she dropped the filter in.
I watched as she drew the liquid up into the syringe.
“Now fix me.” Trish pulled back her long hair.
I tapped on her neck. It took a moment to get the vein to bulge a bit.
“Is it bulging?”
“Yeah.”
“Then fucking push it in!”
With trepidation, I pushed the plunger down injecting the heroin into her neck. Immediately, her eyes rolled back as she fell against the bed. “That’s really good shit,” she whispered.
Quickly, I finished fixing my own dose up and pushed off right next to her. I fell back and pulled her into my arms.
“Ayden, I love you,” she murmured. I caressed her hair. Soon, we both drifted off relishing the high.
Hours later, my eyes popped open. My cheek was throbbing with pain. I rolled over and realized I was on the bathroom floor. The sour stench of vomit penetrated my nostrils as I noticed I was lying in a puddle of it. Scrambling to my feet, I flipped on the faucet and rinsed my face.
Coming down was always the worst. I stumbled around looking for Trish. How the hell had I ended up in the bathroom? How long had I been out? Trish was right it had been potent stuff.
Trish was still lying curled up on the bed.
“Trish, get up. We’ve got enough to each do another fix.”
No reply.
I walked over to her and nudged her. “Trish, wake up.”
Still, she remained silent.
How could she still be high? I wondered. I sank down on the bed beside her.
Then I noticed the rest of the balloon dumped out on the night stand….
Had she done another shot? Reaching out, I gingerly touched her arm.
It was cool to the touch.
Oh my God.
I held my breath as I turned her onto her back.
Her face was blue. Her lips were purple. Her eyes were half open and glazed over. Her mouth had foam crusted around it.
Grabbing her wrist, I felt for a pulse. I waited for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, I detected a very faint pulse. Scooping her up into my arms, I dashed into the bathroom with her. I flipped on the shower and dumped her into the bathtub.
“Wake up, Trish!” I slapped her face and hoped that the water would bring her around.
I felt for her pulse again. This time I didn’t feel anything.
I jerked her out of the shower and laid her on the floor. I didn’t know much about CPR, but I did what I could. Tears streamed down my face.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” I kept whispering. I pulled her up in my arms and held her to me. Her head lolled back. I put her chest to mine trying to feel her heart beat.
Nothing.
I waited for several minutes.
Nothing.
“Trish, please, wake up. Trish, I love you,” I whispered with my lips brushing her ear. Her skin was getting cooler.
She was gone.
The gold cross she wore around her neck was glinting in the light. I gently removed it and slipped it into my pocket.
Numbly, I laid her down gently on the bed. I cleaned her face off with a cloth. I dressed her in her nicest clothes. Kissing her for the last time, I backed away from her body.
She didn’t even look like Trish anymore. She just looked like a doll lying there. Instantly, I felt sick. I made it to the bathroom before I vomited.
Oh God, how could this happen?
I couldn’t think straight. What to do? I couldn’t call the cops I had drugs all over the place. I grabbed the rest of the heroin that was left. The balloon felt oddly fuller than it should’ve been if she’d done another dose. Brushing that aside, I grabbed all the syringes and threw them into my bag.
Casting one more glance at her, I rubbed the tears from my face as I raced out the door. Once I was safely down the street, I called 911.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
“I’d like to report a girl OD’d at 88 Sullivan Street. Apartment 5.”
“How do you know she OD’d?”
“Because I was there with her.”
“What did she take?”
I sighed leaning against the pay phone booth. “I don’t know everything she took. Today alone, she did some smack, a couple of Xanax, a bump of coke.”
“Okay. We’re sending someone now. Is she breathing?”
“No, lady, she’s fucking dead.” Tears began coursing down my face.
“So she’s not breathing? How long has she not been breathing?”
I slammed my fist against the phone booth. “Fuck, I don’t know! I passed out too and when I woke up, she wasn’t breathing. I managed to get a pulse, but then it was gone. She’s been dead at least thirty minutes I guess.”
“Okay, okay. Stay on the line with me. What’s her name?”
“Trish. Actually, Trisha Duvall is her full name.”
“How old is Trish?”
“She’s seventeen, no, she just turned eighteen last month.”
“Where are Trish’s parents?”
“She’s a runaway. She hasn’t been in contact with them for years. I don’t know much about them.”
“What’s your name, Sir?”
“It’s not Sir. I’m barely eighteen years old. It’s….Danny.”
“Okay, Danny, you should see the ambulance now.”
I looked down the street. Sure enough, I heard the sirens screaming and soon the familiar white vehicle pull up. I watched them get the stretcher out. “I’m hanging up now. I see them.”
“Danny, wait. Don’t you want to know if she’s going to be revived?”
I laughed bitterly. “Lady, she’s GONE! I know she’s gone. She hasn’t been breathing for over a half an hour. I’m pretty sure that means she’s dead.” With that, I slammed the phone down.
Biting my lip, I stayed in the phone booth with my face pressed to the glass watching to see them bring her down.
Several moments later, they brought her down on the stretcher with a sheet pulled over her face.
“Goodbye, Trish.” Great sobs wrecked my body. She’d been my girlfriend and my best friend. How could I ever survive out here without her?
The days and nights that followed were awful. I couldn’t return to the apartment I shared with Trish. I was truly alone out there on the streets. I fixed up several times a day just to alleviate the dope sickness not to get high.
Lying on the bed in a cheap motel room, I stared at the ceiling. Why had Trish OD’d, but not me? Hell, I was so skinny I probably didn’t outweigh her by much. Why hadn’t God allowed me to die too?
Feeling the familiar pain of dope sickness start to overtake me, I decided to find my friend, Harry and see what he had for me.
Walking down the street to the local bar, I saw Harry and his guys standing around.
“Hey, man, I heard about Trish. I’m sorry.” Harry threw an arm around me. He smelled of imitation Polo cologne.
I simply nodded.
“She was hot. Shame she’s gone.” One of his cronies looked at me.
I glared at him.
“So, what can I do for you, Ayden?” Harry rubbed his hands together.
I shrugged. “Same old shit, I guess.”
“You want a balloon, right? Sorry, man, I’m all out.”
“What?”
Harry slapped his hands in the air. “I had some earlier, but sold out in less than an hour. The only guy I know who’s got some is Tico.”
I rolled my eyes. I didn’t know if I could stomach being around him again. “I’d rather not. The last time I was with Tico was with Trish.”
One of Harry’s cronies jabbed him whispering something. Harry’s eyes bulged.
“Oh, shit, man.”
“What?” I bounced back and forth on my feet. I was starting to get jittery.
“Didn’t you hear? Tico’s shit was almost pure last time. It was cut too high.”
“What are you saying?” In my dope sick haze, I couldn’t comprehend his words.
“Was the last time Trish got high was on Tico’s shit?”
I nodded.
Harry’s face went pale. He bit his lip. “Usually, Tico cuts his shit with aspirin or even plaster. Word got around on the street his dope was weak, so he started trying to cut it higher. The last batch he had he cut too high.”
I blinked several times.
“It was more pure than it should’ve been. Too fucking powerful.”
Then, I realized what he was saying. “Oh my God,” I whispered. My hands started trembling uncontrollably. I backed away.
“Hey, man, are you going to be okay?” Harry started off after me.
“No, I’m not.” I ran out of the bar and down the street. I kept running and running for several blocks until I collapsed on the sidewalk.
Looking up, I saw all the neon signs blinking overhead. I was Tico’s territory now. The Mexican gangs ran this block.
Still, I wasn’t afraid. I just didn’t care. To me, Tico was responsible for Trish’s death.
And I was going to make him pay.
Ash sat with his mouth hanging open. He hadn’t moved from his seat in over an hour. “Ayden, I’m so sorry. I just…can’t comprehend.”
I nodded. I had anticipated his reaction. The world I’d grown up in was so far removed from the one he knew. “I’m not finished yet, Ash.”
His face paled as he reached for his Macallan. “My God, Ayden.”
I rubbed my face and adjusted myself in the chair. “Not much longer, Ash.”
“Several months went by. I had concocted a plan to get revenge for Trish’s death. For days, I’d been fighting dope sickness to ensure I was stone cold sober for it. I had a .45 stuffed down the back of my jeans. I’d been watching Tico’s guys for weeks now. As soon as their supply came in from Mexico, I was going to steal it. I’d contemplated killing Tico, but decided against it. Stealing his supply would hurt him a lot longer than a simple gunshot would. I wanted him to suffer. Pulling my car around to the back lot of the warehouse where their supply came in, I watched. At precisely 2 AM, a long black van would arrive. Then two guys would hop out, as one guy would open the warehouse doors. The two guys would drop off the dope in heavy plastic wrapped bricks and the one guy would take it into the warehouse. Later, another guy would show up to retrieve it. The lone guy would take the dope to Tico himself. So that’s the guy I was targeting.”
“You didn’t kill anyone, did you, Ayden?” Ash sat back horrified.
I shook my head.
“No. Just listen.”
“You’ve got me on the edge of my seat! Just tell me.”
“Well, to make a long story short, I plowed into the one guy’s car with my own. Unfortunately, I had miscalculated the fact that he had a partner with him that time. I demanded the dope at gunpoint and they tossed it at me. “
As I drove off, they shot at my car blasting out the rear windshield. I heard them scream my name.
So they knew who stole their dope meaning that Tico would be coming for me.
I drove back to the motel. I knew I didn’t have long before they eventually tracked me down.
The thing was, I didn’t even care about the dope. I stood laughing as I imagined the rage Tico must be feeling knowing his precious supply was stolen. Hauling the bricks into the bathroom, I ripped open each brick one by one and dumped them into the toilet.
“This is for you, Trish.” I said as I flushed the white powder away.
I kept one portion of the dope for myself.
Sinking down onto the bed, I finally allowed all the grief I had over Trish to overcome me. Great sobs racked my body. Inside me, a dam had burst giving way to a huge chasm of sadness, hate, anger, and despair. All the feelings I’d had all these years beckoned to me through that black hole. I wanted nothing more than to jump in headfirst and just let it take me.
Knowing how potent Tico’s smack was, I filled my needle up with a double shot. I laid back on the bed after putting on a song Trish had always liked.
The familiar sound of Coma White by Marilyn Manson filled the room. I cranked the volume up all the way. I held Trish’s cross to my chest as I tied my arm off.
There’s something cold and blank,
Behind her smile,
She’s standing on an overpass,
In a miracle mile…..
As the vein popped out, I undid the tourniquet. The needle pierced my skin and I pushed down on the plunger.
“Trish, I love you.” I whispered.
I felt the junk hit me hard. It felt like fire burning through my veins. I closed my eyes and let the music carry me away.
As the song wound down, I could feel my heart beat slowing.
Slower…then slower…even slower…
My life draining away…all the pain I’d felt for the entire eighteen years I’d been alive…just washing away like water down a drain…I felt so good.
Now that I was dead.
A few moments later, the music faded away. My eyelids fluttered open. I expected to see my mother for some reason.
But it was Trish standing over me. “Ayden, you have to go back. It’s not your time.”
Her voice floated to my ears. I could hear her clearly, but I could only see the shape of her body not her face. “Trish, I want to be with you. I love you.”
Her voice echoed within me. “Go back, Ayden. There’s a special plan for you.”
“No, Trish,” I whispered holding out my hand to her. I wanted to feel her again.
Her fingertips brushed my cheek, but before I could grab her, she was gone.
The music was blaring in the room. The lyrics of ‘Last Resort’ were pounding the walls.
“Trish!” I screamed sitting up in the bed. Looking all around, I saw I was still in the motel. A needle was lying next to me. Where was Trish? Had I been dreaming? Why didn’t I die?
There was a pounding at the door.
“Motherfucker, we know you’re in there!”
I recognized the heavy Spanish accent of Tico.
Oh, shit! I grabbed my stuff and raced out the back. Running down the street, all I could think of was getting back to my mother’s house.
I had to get out of this area.
Most importantly, I had to live.
There was a special plan for me.
Trish had said so.
Ash whistled loudly. “Fuck, Ayden, that’s….wow.” He stood up and began pacing back and forth.
“You feel me a bit more now, Ash?”
He nodded. “I’m sorry for what you went through. My God, a suicide attempt? How did you ever get away from those dealers?”
I laughed picking up my e cig and taking a long drag. “Well, my brother… that is another story. It’s the reason that I found out who my dad really was. A few nights later, I made it back to my mother’s house. As usual, she wasn’t home. Easily, I slipped in through the back door. Making my way up into the attic, I began searching through the box labeled Ayden.
I needed my birth certificate. The thought had come to me while I was running from Tico. I could go into the military. If I went into the military, I would be safe from Tico’s gang and if I made it through my tour of duty, they would pay for my college.”
And I could finally get off dope for good.
Tossing things out of the box, I came to an old manila envelope. Sliding the document out, I found just what I was looking for.
Ayden Neil Donovan
Mother’s Name: Debra Elaine Warren
Father’s Name: Ashler Neil Blackthorne
Birthplace: Chicago, IL.
My heart leapt into my throat. I’d always believed Jimmy had been my dad. James Donovan was the man who’d married my mother when I was little. Mom had always said he wasn’t, but I thought she was lying.
Now some guy named Ashler was my dad? What the hell kind of name was that? I’d heard of a very wealthy Blackthorne family in New York, but that couldn’t be him could it?
Now I had my birth certificate though. I could do whatever I wanted. Maybe I should go find my father first.
Hearing the lock rattle downstairs, I thought about confronting Mom, but decided against it. I took my birth certificate and ran out the back door.
Over the next few weeks, I did some research on Ashler Blackthorne.
And I found out just how wealthy and powerful he was.
He already had a son though. My brother, Ashton, who was attending Harvard.
Studying their pictures in the tabloids, I began to learn what type of man my father would expect me to be.
And an ex-junkie just wouldn’t cut it. The track marks were still very visible on my arms. I fought the urge to use every day.
So I enlisted in the Navy.
“Wait a minute, you were in the Navy, too?” Ash was stunned.
“Yep, I sure was.”
“Where were you stationed?”
“Virginia.”
“So was I.”
“Told you we had some things in common besides our parents.” I winked as I finished telling him my tale, “So after I finished my tour of duty in the Navy, I came back to attend the University of Chicago. My track marks had faded substantially and I’d managed to stay clean for over four years. After receiving my degree in business, I felt ready to move to New York. I’d gotten a job in a small investment bank, so when I met my father I could be more up to his standard. But little did I know just how high his standards were.”
Ash picked the lint off his black dress pants. “So, tell about the first time you met Dad. You must’ve had quite an impression of him.” He smirked.
“Oh yes. He was definitely a man of distinction.” I mused aloud thinking of my first face to face encounter with my own father.
I had specifically purchased an overpriced Italian suit, one I knew my father would like. I was glad that the sleeves covered my track mark scars and tattoos. I styled my hair conservatively and made sure I was clean shaven. With my leather briefcase, I looked the part of the successful businessman.
I pulled my car up to the valet in front of his Manhattan office building. As I tossed the keys to my ‘95 Corolla to the valet, he did a double take. All of the cars parked around here were Mercedes, Jaguars, Porsches, Audis, and BMWs. I was a bit of place and I knew it.
Still, I walked inside the building. Seeing the plaquard that read ‘Blackthorne Enterprises’ I swelled with a bit of pride. No longer was I going to be Ayden Donovan, the son of a drunk and a drug addict, but Ayden Blackthorne, son of the real estate mogul, Ashler Blackthorne.
Taking the elevator to the 11th floor, the doors opened to reveal a very plush office. I knew it would be, but seeing it in person was so incredible I nearly whistled aloud.
A gorgeous receptionist greeted me, “Hello, Sir. How may I help you?”
I tried not to stare at her sizeable cleavage. She was absolutely stunning. She was giving me the eye as well. I wondered if she noticed the resemblance between myself and my father. “I’m here to see Mr. Blackthorne.”
She winked at me and flipped through his appointment book. “Are you Mr. Helms? I have you down for 9:30. Was that my mistake?”
Glancing at my watch, I saw that it was 10:15. Perfect. Apparently, this guy wasn’t going to show up. “Yes, I am! Sorry, the traffic was awful this morning. And my secretary told me she would contact you to let you know I was running late.”
She shook her head.
“So, you didn’t get a call from Keri? Dammit.”
“It’s okay.” She smiled. “I’ll just let Mr. Blackthorne know you’re here.”
I bit my lip. Shit, my father probably knew this guy already. One look at me and he’d know I wasn’t this Helms guy.
“You can go in.” She winked at me again as I passed her by.
God, she had a great ass.
My father was bent over his desk looking at documents when I walked in.
I was so nervous I could barely hold my briefcase.
“Helms, come on in. You’re late. I should add that to your bill.” He laughed before glancing up at me.
Our eyes met and his laughter stopped. He stared at me his mouth fell open. “You’re not….” The words froze on his lips.
I tried to smile at him. I wanted to smile at him, but I was too stunned to speak. He looked just like an older version of me. I couldn’t believe how much we resembled each other.
“Who are you?” he finally asked when he regained his composure. A man like him wasn’t used to be caught off guard like that. He straightened up in his chair.
“I’m Ayden.” I sat my briefcase down on the floor.
“And how can I help you, Ayden?” His voice was smooth like a radio announcer’s.
“I’m…here about a job.” I stammered trying to ease my way into a conversation.
“Have a seat.” He gestured to the chair across from his desk. His office was lavish complete with several marble statues and a huge mahogany desk. The enormous picture window featured a view of Central Park.
“Nice office.” I commented as I sat down. He smoothed his hair back as he studied me.
“So, usually the way this works is my HR department schedules the interviews. I seldom see people personally unless they are outstanding candidates. I assume that you are or else you wouldn’t be here.”
I nodded trying to still my shaking hands.
“You said your name is Ayden. So, Ayden, can you tell me about yourself?”
“I’m from Chicago. I grew up on the South Side with my mother.”
He chuckled. “I meant professionally. What’s your degree in?”
“Oh, yes, I have a degree in Business Administration from the University of Chicago. I have a graduate certificate in Finance. I was also in the Navy.”
He nodded smiling. “Very impressive. My son, Ashton was in the Navy as well. What year did you graduate?”
“College?”
“No, high school.”
I hadn’t graduated high school. I had a GED that I received before going into the Navy, but I didn’t tell him that. “2001.”
“You’re quite a bit younger than my son. He graduated in 1993.”
Didn’t he see our resemblances? Wasn’t he thinking what I was thinking?
“So, what type of work have you done? Do you have a resume?”
Actually, I did. I’d kept one in my briefcase, but I hadn’t planned on bringing it out. “I’m working right now at an investment bank in Manhattan.”
He looked puzzled. “That’s great. Why would you want to work for me?”
It was now or never. “I don’t. I came here because…because you’re my father.” There I’d blurted it out.
He stared at me long and hard. His eyes blinked several times. “I’m what?”
“My father.”
He sighed deeply. He tapped his hand on his desk. “Who told you such a thing?”
I opened my briefcase and removed the copy of my birth certificate. I passed it to him.
He slipped his reading glasses on to scan it. “Debra Donovan? I don’t know any woman named Debra Donovan.”
I felt fury began to build within me.
“I was once married to a Debra though.”
“Yes, that was my mother.”
“It says here you were born in February 1985. Debra and I were divorced in 1984. You couldn’t possibly by my son.”
I slammed my hands down on his desk. “Look at me! I look just like you!”
His face went pale. He pushed the paper back to me. “Coincidence. And we don’t look that much alike. Ayden, I’m sorry, but your mother, this Debra obviously just put my name on there.”
I ran my hands through my hair. “No. Debra, my mother is your ex-wife!”
He swallowed hard and looked down. “Yes, she was my wife. But she ran off with another man in 1984. If she was pregnant, then it was his baby, not mine. Did Debra put you up to this?”
“No! She doesn’t even know I’m here! I left home years ago. I was fed up with her drug use.” I rubbed my face with my hands.
He nodded. “That’s it. Debra always was into some kind of trouble. She had a penchant for drugs, booze, and apparently, affairs. She needs money, so she sends you to extort from me.”
“No! She didn’t have any part in this! She never told me who you were. I found the birth certificate myself. I wanted to meet you.”
I could detect a yearning in his eyes. He wanted to believe me.
But he wouldn’t, not yet.
“Ayden, I’m sorry, but until a blood test confirms it I won’t claim you as my son.”
“Then do a fucking blood test!” I commanded.
His eyes darted around the room. He stood up. “I’m sorry, but I have another appointment. Perhaps we can do this later.”
I bolted up from the chair. “I’m your son! I’ve waited my whole life to meet you! Don’t you care? Don’t you want to know about me?” I was enraged. This was the moment I’d been waiting for my entire life and it was going horribly wrong.
“I only have one son. His name is Ashton. Ayden, I’m sorry you had a difficult life, but there’s nothing I can do for you.”
“Yes, there is. Take the fucking test.”
His cheeks flushed bright red. “Please don’t make me call security, Ayden. You seem like a good kid. Here, I’ll give you money for a cab ride.” He pulled several twenties out of his pocket.
I slapped his hand. The money fluttered to the floor. “I don’t want your fucking money!” I turned to run from his office. My heart felt like it had been torn from my body. I had built my father up to be this amazing man and he was nothing but a stuck up prick.
“Ayden! Wait!”
I ran past the pretty receptionist all the way down to the valet. Jumping into my old Corolla, I sped off cursing myself and him all the while. My heart physically ached. I hadn’t felt this bad since Trish had died.
Part of me had died with her.
Ash looked away. He couldn’t meet my eyes. “I can’t believe he did that.”
I nodded slowly. “I was crushed by his rejection. I don’t suppose I should’ve blamed him for his reaction. Given I was a stranger who showed up on his doorstep claiming to be his son, I probably wouldn’t have accepted me either.”
Ash stood up and walked to the window. He gazed out at the roaring ocean. “So, what did you do?”
I took a long drag off my e cig which wasn’t nearly as good as the real thing. “Had a fucking relapse. I laid around my apartment for a few weeks just smoking. I didn’t hit the vein again, but I was sorely tempted. I started lingering around outside your office. I contemplated introducing myself to you thinking you may accept me even if he didn’t.”
He spun around to face me. “Well, obviously you didn’t do that. What happened?”
I tapped the e cig against the table. I knew he was going to hate me when I told him. “I was sitting in that café across from your old office when I saw the most gorgeous blonde I’d ever seen walking into your office. I had to meet her. Little did I know she was your secretary.”
“Amber!” His fists clenched. “That’s how you met her?”
I nodded. “Yes. I didn’t know at first she worked for you. I began to follow her working up the courage to approach her.”
“She intimidated you? Why? You’re a good looking guy. You’ve got the Blackthorne swagger.”
I cocked my eyebrow at him. As mad as he was at me, I knew then that he recognized the blood ties between us. “What can I say? I had issues. I was a bit paranoid due to the coke. Anyway, I met Amber and I fell for her. The fact that she was your secretary only made it sweeter.”
“Did you ever even love her? Or did you just fuck her to get closer to me?” The anger rose in his voice.
“Of course, I loved her. Amber was, is an amazing woman. Who wouldn’t love her? But what happened between us was awful. I didn’t mean to hurt her. I was feeling rejected by our father and yes, I was using again.”
Ash sat back down on the chair. “That’s no excuse for the shit you put her through, Ayden. I didn’t know who you were then, but I saw the agony that poor woman went through. I can’t forgive you for that. Let alone all the shit you pulled recently.”
“Hey, Ash, I’m not here to make excuses. A lot of terrible things happened because of me. I take responsibility for that. I had a shitty childhood, but I know that’s no excuse for the things I did. I’ve told you both how sorry I am. I know I behaved sadistically. But please believe me, Ash, that wasn’t who I really am.”
He sat staring at me. I listened to roar of the ocean outside. It sounded like another Nor’easter was heading our way.
“Ayden, you’ve said your peace. Now let me say mine.”
I nodded at him.
“I’ve found some things out about our father. That’s why I agreed to meet with you. Apparently, he had a whole side to himself he never told me. Growing up, we were very close. I liked to think of him as my best friend as I got older, but I guess he didn’t feel the same about me.”
“Ash, I envy you. I really do.”
“Hear me out, Ayden. I admit I’m privileged that I got to know him, but there were dark secrets he kept from me.”
Narrowing my eyes, I dug a real pack of cigarettes out of my pocket. “Mind if I smoke, Ash?”
“I normally don’t allow it, but hell, give me one too.”
Lighting two cigarettes, I handed him one.
He coughed as he exhaled.
“Been a while?”
“Yes.” He choked.
“What did you find out?”
Ash went over to the desk and pulled out a black box. “This.”
I pulled the lid off and looked to see what was in it. Stacks of old photos, a .45, and newspaper clippings filled the box. I noticed photos of our dad leaning against a Harley wearing a cut that read ‘Sons of Brotherhood’.
Sons of Brotherhood?
That was Sinister’s MC!
“Sons of Brotherhood? He was in an MC?”
Ash took the photo from my hand and gazed at it.
“Yeah, looks like it. I never saw him ride a Harley. Hard to imagine.” He tossed the photo back into the box. I picked up some of the records.
“Alice’s Attic?” I asked looking at the .45.
Ash nodded flicking the butt into a marble ashtray. “Dad’s band. He was the lead singer and a guitarist.”
“His band?”
Ash nodded.
“Do you have a record player? I’d love to hear it.”
Ash led me over to the corner where a huge oak cabinet stood. Pulling back the sliding doors, he revealed the aging record player.
Taking the .45 from me, he dropped it onto the turntable.
Soon, the driving sounds of ‘Witchy Girl’ filled the room.
“Wow, he’s really good.” I stood back in amazement. Hearing my father’s voice warmed my heart.
“Yes, he is. I was floored when I first heard it. The man singing that song is not the father I knew.” Ash’s eyes misted a bit with tears.
“What little I knew of him doesn’t match with that either.” I shook my head looking at the album cover.
Glancing through the newspaper clippings, I was astounded to see the colorful life my father apparently had led. “So, what does this mean, Ash? Does it really matter today if he was some hippie musician and biker in the 70s?”
Ash shrugged. He finished the cigarette and tossed the butt out the window. “I suppose it doesn’t. It’s more of the fact he hid so much from me. He never told me about you or any of this stuff.”
“That makes two of us, Ash. What about this girl, Amelia?”
“She’s the daughter of Rita, Dad’s old lover. She was actually going to be my stepmother after Debra left, but they broke up. Clayton said that Rita was using again, so Dad kicked her out. Amelia was her daughter. The journal Dad kept said Rita claimed Amelia was his, but it was never confirmed.”
“So we have a sister?”
Shaking his head, Ash reached for another cigarette. “I’m not sure. No one knows whatever happened to her. Rita died years ago in a fire according to Clayton.”
I lit another cigarette and took a long drag. “So, I guess the question is what do we do?”
He gazed at me with an empty, lost expression. “I don’t know.”
“So, you knew Amelia? What was she like? Do you really think she could be our sister?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure. She had long jet black hair. She was a beautiful, but very strange girl. I don’t recall her having many friends. I’d try and get her to play with me and my friends, but she brushed me off. She’d only hang out with me when we were alone.”
I cocked my head to the side. I wondered how many other missing pieces there were to this puzzle. No wonder Ash was so upset.
“I just don’t know what to think anymore. At first, after I found out about you I was furious. Then, I found out about Amelia and all of Dad’s wild past. I don’t feel angry with him anymore, just sad and confused. I thought we were so close and yet, he chose to keep so many secrets from me.”
“Ash, from what you’ve told me, Ashler was a good man and a great father. Perhaps his reason for keeping secrets was to protect you.” I lit another cigarette and took a long drag.
“Definitely something to think about. I just…feel lost right now. What about you?” Ash took another cigarette from me.
“I feel the same way. I think sometime you and I should look for Amelia. Maybe she’s grown up living a lie just like us.”
Ash nodded taking a long drag. “I definitely think we should. At this point, it couldn’t hurt.”
I flicked my butt out the window. I felt such a kinship with him it warmed my heart.
Maybe I wasn’t such a wicked man after all.