Through The Night

Desmond

“You always cheating Chris!”

“Stop crying, man.” He said, still grabbing at my controller. “You better finish getting your stuff ready, you got school in a bit.” Chris got up from the bed and headed for the door.

“What you going do today?” I asked but I already knew what he was going to say.

I’m the man of the house. Got to make sure we good.

In other words, sleep until late in the morning, work his shift, go do whatever he wants, come home, and do it all over again. Seems so nice compared to all that I do.

And he stood in the doorway of my room and said exactly that before going down the hall. I can’t do anything but laugh each time. I wish he knew how much pain he caused ma. I see it every day on her face. After each conversation, she blames herself once he walks out the door. I know she does. I won’t say anything to him though, things have been good between us for the first time in a while.

I’m not too sure when my brother and I started to get along so well. I remember the days when we’d be at each other’s throats, for the slightest of reasons. Now, I can’t imagine not having him around, let alone somebody else messing with him. He may be older than me, but I look out for him, and worry about him, just as much as he does for me. Besides our mother, we’re all we got.

Those words have never meant so much as they do now. My mother, in another attempt to see at least one of her sons succeed in life, decided to move us to the other side of the city. At the very least, she wants me to graduate from high school. She never graduated herself but managed to scrap up a good life for us. We’ve always gotten by, save for the handful of times when things got tough for us. She did whatever was necessary to make sure my brother and I were taken care of.

I wonder if she feels some of that hard work went to waste. Chris dropped out of school toward the end of his junior year. He said he did it to help her. Guess he couldn’t handle seeing our mother struggle so much over the years, especially after Dad died. Despite whatever he says, I know my brother. He dropped out because he didn’t think he could do it, not for some heroic gesture to help. I understand it somewhat though. The pressure my mother placed on us to be something. She’s always pushing us; nothing seems good enough because in her eyes there’s always more to strive for. Another level to reach. New heights to climb. He couldn’t handle that. Sometimes I don’t think I can.

Some days go by, and I just want to stay in bed until late morning like he does, go work my shift, come home, and do it all over again. To just be mindless for a moment, not having to worry about exams, studying, planning for college, volunteer hours, and whatever else my mother thinks I need to be doing to “set myself up for success,” as she says.

It makes me smile every time I think of her saying it. I know she’s right, but sometimes I just want a break from it all, just a day to relax and do nothing, for a moment.

Anyway, we fought against her decision to move the best we could. But other than our friends and the little old two-bedroom apartment on Dover Street being the only home we knew our whole lives, there was no reason for us to stay. It was for the best. Who knows, I could’ve ended up just like my brother, and then my mother would’ve felt like a complete failure.

So, I guess seeing this through is how I give something to her for all she’s done for us. I can at least do that. Besides, I know she only does it because she loves us. I just need a break.

I can hear ma grabbing her keys off the hook. I know what that means. I got about five minutes to straighten up, grab my stuff, and be out of the house before her. Either that or get lectured to the end of the street until we part ways to go to work and school.

***

Chris

Man, that boy like ma, always asking the same question. I get why they ask, but they don’t understand for real. I don’t think they want to. Ma always talking about how just like our dad I am. I ain’t never seen it though. I’m not sure who I’m like, to be honest. Besides working, I don’t remember much else about him. What I do know is that I ain’t cut out for whatever life she trying set us up for. I don’t need all that. I’ll make my way the same way we always have.

I need to clean this room up today.

‘Damn.’ I can hear ma moving stuff around in the fridge. I run into the kitchen before she starts yelling.

“My bad ma. I’ll grab some more coffee creamer while I’m out today.” It don’t matter, I know what’s coming next.

She looks at me, still holding the fridge door open. There it is, that ice-cold glare of hers. Even now, as an adult, it still has the same effect on me, like I’m still a kid. There’s so much judgment in her eyes. It’s softened over the years. Maybe she finally starting to accept me for who I am, either that or she’s losing or lost all hope for me. Whatever the cause, I still don’t see any room for understanding in her eyes.

“Desmond let’s go, baby,” she says, closing the fridge and walking by me to the front door.

Sometimes it feels like she doesn’t even acknowledge that she has two sons anymore. She’s so focused on Desmond. I guess I can’t blame her, ain’t like I got much going on for her to take notice of. “Have a good day ma,” I say standing in the kitchen archway.

“Thanks, Chris.” I’ll be home late today. I put a list of the stuff your brother needs to get done, make sure he does.”

“Alright.”

“Desmond, now! And I don’t know what friends you running around with now, but you better keep them out of my home. I ain’t no fool. I know you be having them in here while I’m out.”

Ice cold.

“You got me?” she asked sternly.

“It’s just-.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Do you understand?” She stares down the hall waiting for my brother.

“Yes, ma.” I feel small. I don’t even feel eighteen. She’s always telling me how much like our father I am, but she still makes me feel like a kid. I want to walk away but I can’t. I feel like anything I do or say at this point might have her on me again, so I wait. I wish he hurry up!

She ain’t even looking at me anymore. Just go to your room. Still ain’t moving though. I can finally hear Desmond coming down the hall and I take a slow deep breath. Finally.

I notice her shift her eyes at me. I turn toward my brother before our eyes meet.

“Bye Chris,” Desmond says, stopping in front of me with his fist up.

I can’t even find the words to speak to him. I just bump fists with him. I notice how confused he looks. We were just having fun playing the game a few minutes ago. I wonder if she realizes what she does to me, to us.

She watches him until he gets to her and rubs his hair. I hate the way she looks at him sometimes. Lovingly. I hate it even more that she doesn’t look at me the same. It’s my fault. I don’t make loving me easy.

She opens the door and lets Desmond walk out first. One final cut of her eyes at me before she leaves. The door closes and I just stand there, staring. Not even a goodbye, I love you, or anything. I should’ve told her that I at least love her, even if I don’t understand why she treats me the way she does.

I bang my hand against the wall and go to my room. I turn on some music and throw myself face up on the bed.

Just breathe man.

***

Desmond

“Bye, ma. Love you.” She pulls me in for a hug and kisses me on the cheek. Ever since school started, us saying goodbye right at the corner of this intersection always felt weird to me. It feels like everybody is watching.

“Love you too baby. I’ll see you later. Your brother has a list of everything you need to get done today.”

She lets me go and digs in her purse for some money. “And when you get home from school, don’t be in there giving him a hard time. He’s out here working like the rest of us, so he needs his rest. Okay?”

She hands me the money. It’s obvious she loves him just as much as she loves me. She’s always making sure I stay out of his way, giving him space. He’s a bit too dense to see it though.

“Okay, ma,” I say counting the money so that she doesn’t notice. “Can I get a little more? I want to grab something to eat from that little sandwich shop around the corner from school on the way home.”

“Boy.” She smiles at me. “I don’t know why you like that place. Everybody knows Lucky’s has the best sandwiches in the city.” She grabs her wallet and hands me a twenty. “I could go for some Lucky’s.” She says.

“Thank you.” I hug her quickly and turn down the street.

“Love you!”

I keep on walking until I feel like I put enough distance and time between myself and our street. I duck off into a coffee shop and grab a table. I place my backpack on the chair next to me. The sounds of the city are muffled as the door to the shop closes.

I’ll wait here for a little bit.

I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I repeatedly scan the scantly occupied coffee shop. It’s killing me. But the thought of me skipping school is exciting at the same time. I do anything I can to pass the time by until I feel comfortable enough to go back home. I fidget with my phone, look at the merchandise lined up against the walls, and once I read through the entire menu twice, I grab my bag and leave.

This must be the way Chris feels on his days off. No responsibilities, just a whole day to do whatever I want. The thought of me not getting a real off day until the spring makes today worth it. Between school, sports, volunteering, and studying I don’t even get time on the weekends. I’m so exhausted by Sunday that all I do is sleep most of the day away.

I got a text from Thomas. He lives a few blocks away. We met over the summer, a couple of weeks before school started, volunteering at a park clean-up event. He’s an alright dude.

He’s wondering where I am. I didn’t even notice the time. School started twenty minutes ago and I’m still not back home yet.

How long was I at the coffee shop?

Doesn’t matter. I tell him I’m sick and hurry my pace back to the apartment. For right now, I want nothing more than to get out of my clothes, lay in bed, and watch TV.

I make it to the building. The lady in the leasing office stares at me as I walk by her window. I saw her and ma speaking a few times. She just needs to mind her business and let me be. I press the button for the elevator and step inside quicker than I need to.

The door closes and I relax.

***

Chris

Might take off work today. I just want to chill.

To be honest I’m feeling lazy. I lay there for a little bit until I heard someone at the door messing with the lock. I turn down the music and run out the room. Desmond walks in the door.

“What you doing?” I ask confused.

“Chris, please don’t tell ma.” He steps toward me with his hands out explaining himself. “I just want a day to relax, that’s all. I won’t bother you for anything. If ma finds out, I’ll tell her you weren’t here when I came home.”

I think he looks funny as hell, breathing hard and panicking. I try my best to stare at him the way ma stares at me, but I can’t hold back the laugh.

“I don’t care man. You need to learn to relax.”

“Okay.” He says breathing deeply and interlocking his hands on his head.

I laugh and go back to laying down on the bed. I listen to him put his stuff down in the living room. Before I can turn my music back up, I see him standing in my doorway out the corner of my eye.

“What do you want Desmond?” I say annoyingly. I don’t mean it though, just messing with him a bit.

“You doing anything today?”

He’s always so timid when he’s speaking to me. “Why?” I ask staring up at the ceiling.

“I was wondering if I could go with you. I know you have to work and everything-.”

There he goes again, running off into some long-drawn-out explanation. I just tone it out. “Relax!” I say. “Dang. What’s the point of staying home if you going be this uptight all day? Probably need to be in school anyway.”

“You’re one to talk.” He says under his breath.

I glare at him.

“I’m sorry Chris. I didn’t mean t-.”

“Shut up.” I look back at the ceiling. “Go to your room and figure out how to relax man.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

“Just go, man.”

He starts to walk off.

“Desmond?”

“Yeah?”

“You say anything like that to me again, I’m going beat your ass.”

He starts to apologize but catches himself and walks off.

Just Like his mother. Always got something to say!

***

Desmond

God! He’s just like her. I get how he feels when she stares at him.

I slam the door behind me.

++++++++++++++NOTES+++++++++++++++

This story is in the works to become a novel, with this entry serving as the first chapter.