“A letter? What letter?” Iasked.
“One that I’m going to write,” Mom said with a grin. “About the regret you feel for your father’s arrest and incarceration, and how it’s too late for you to apologize for not accepting all the love he gaveyou.”
“You can read, can’t you, Ry-Ry? Smart college boy,” Marie ran her hand through my hair. I jerked my head away from herhand.
“There are so many awesome videos we could send USC if you have a problem,” Chad said and rubbed his handstogether.
The three of them started talking about different videos and their content. I shut them out and stared upward at the ceiling, thinking about myoptions.
I was trapped. If I stood up to them, it’d just anger them, and they’d send the videos for sure. School and baseball were all I had, and as warped as it was, they weren’t taking it from me. I wasn’t going to let them, even if it meant embarrassing myself at a fucking funeral. No one would be at the funeral that I cared about anyhow. I didn’t care aboutanyone.
Maybe Iwasselfish.
* * *
The weekend was hell.I went to the pier each night after my day of earning funds for my dad’s funeral. I was worn out physically and mentally, and I hadn’t picked up my screenwriting project as I had intended. I was way too tired to think about much of anything, especially developing a plot for ascreenplay.
I hand carried the cash that I had earned to the funeral home to pay for everything. Every cent that was left, I pocketed. I figured that since everyone in my family thought I was such an asshole that I may as well do something to actually earn thetitle.
The night before the funeral my mom asked for the change. I tossed two twenty-dollar bills on the kitchen table. When she asked where the rest of it was, I lied and told her there wasn’t anything else.No fucking way, I thought. My body was used for this shit, and I was keeping the money that was left. I’d bank it forschool.
“Here’s your letter that you will read tomorrow at the funeral.” My mom shoved the piece of paper at me. “Think you have something decent to wear? Do not embarrass me tomorrow,Chad.”
“Ryan,” I mumbled to correct her as she left me alone in the kitchen. I sat down to read over whatever she hadconcocted.
* * *
“Ihave many regrets.If I could turn back the hands of time, I would take the time to appreciate my father,” I paused before saying the next part. My hesitation wasn’t because I felt remorse or sad, but because this was such garbage. “I’d tell him that I was sorry for not understanding how much he loved me. I was too selfish and caught up in myself to see that he cared and loved me. He was trying to make me a better person. He was sent away,” I swallowed hard, “for lovingme.”
I gripped the podium tightly for a moment before I gathered my fucked up piece of paper and trudged back to my seat in the front row. I had to listen to Chad say what a wonderful dad he was. Such shit. Dad hurt him too. He was fuckingbrainwashed.
There were people there that I recognized from the train yard where my father had worked before going to jail and then onto prison. A few of them I hated as much as my father because of what they did. On a number of occasions, my dad would take me to work with him. He had a few co-workers who were just as sick as he was. The trade-off for my dad was money, and I was treated to a cheeseburger Happy Meal on the way home. He only took me into McDonald’s once, because as he ordered, I hid in the bathroom. I still got the cheeseburger Happy Meals each time we left the train yard but in the confinements of the familyBuick.
To this day, the walks I took down inactive tracks to empty train cars with my father’s co-workers haunt my mind every time I seetrains.
I shoved my hands in my pockets as I recognized each one of them gathered around the grave site. I started to think about some of my visits with each of them years and years ago. I was annoyed at their bravery to show up at the funeral. They had some nerve. I hoped they all had a terrible time sleeping at night. I caught a few of them looking at me, and when I made eye contact with them, they’d all quickly lookaway.
As the service wrapped up and while my mother spoke to the assholes from the train yard, I stared in disgust at the phrase “Beloved Husband and Father” carved into theheadstone.
“He was a loving man, Ry-Ry.” Marie had suddenly appeared next to me. I glanced over my shoulder to see who else might be lurking. Chad was near the paved road by cars, talking to some of the disgusting railroadworkers.
“No, he wasn’t, Marie. You knowit.”
“Ryan, just because you didn’t understand his love for you doesn’t mean it wasn’t real. He loved you and yourbrother.”
I couldn’t even wrap my mind around the shit that everyone around me had been saying. But if so many were saying it, was there a chance they were right, and I was the wrong one? Uncertainty boiled up from my gut and transformed into bile as I took a deepbreath.
“Look, I know today is hard foryou.”
“You have no clue,Marie.”
“Let me give you a blow job. No video recorders. No Chad. It’ll make you feel better. We could slip back into the service hall lobby and go into thebathroom.”
I didn’t answer her or acknowledge that I heard herspeak.
“It’ll be quick, Ry-Ry. You come so fast anyhow. We’d only be gone for a fewminutes.”
“Please stop.” I rubbed my eyes and looked upward for a moment to escape all of this shit. I slowly moved my arm out of her grip because I didn’t want to make a scene. “Can you just leave mealone?”
