“I want to know what happened when we thought you died.”
“I don’t know you’ll get what you want from knowing my side of the story.”
“How do you know what I want? You don’t know me,” I bite back. He flinches, and I clear my throat, reminding myself it takes two to tango. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I understand it will take time to heal almost three decades of harm.”
“Over three decades. Do you know I don’t have one memory of you sober? I don’t remember a day you were happy without a drink in your hand?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Go ahead. Tell me what it is you think I want.”
“You want understanding, right? Why your life was uprooted and you had to leave and start over? To know why you were told I died.”
He actually knows what I want, so I gesture in agreement.
“I can give you my side of the story, son, but I can’t give you hers.”
“I know.”
“As long as that’s alright with you. I’ll tell you what I know.”
Finally, I might get some answers. Finally, I’ll be able to fill in all the blanks. Finally, I’ll be able to understand. As I wait unhurriedly for him to continue, I practice breathing.
“I don’t know exactly what day it was or when I noticed it, since some years are a blur, that one included, but I remember vividly walking into the house to a foul smell and throwing up in an instant. It smelled like a dead animal.
Turns out, it was my own filth….
Jerry,Twenty Four Years Ago
“Brenda!”I shout, heaving over the dirty toilet. Splatters of shit are everywhere, pee stains, and it smells worse than Grandpa Al’s halitosis when he didn’t wash his dentures.
Goddammit, where is she, and why is this bathroom so disgusting? Was Holden sick or some shit? This is foul.
“Brenda!” I flush the toilet, heading to the kitchen, blinking several times before realizing what I’m seeing. Piles of dirty dishes, empty beer cans on the floor, leftover food on the counter, all of it making me gag again. Damn, I need a beer.
I open the fridge to find spoiled vegetables and fruit. Spoiled milk. And no goddamn beer. It’s dinner time, so why the hell is she not here?
“Brenda?”
I search every room, every corner of the house. Damn, my head is spinning. I feel like I’m crawling out of my skin, and there’s a hammer pounding in my head. Loud as shit. So loud.
The knock on the door startles me. Oh, Brenda.
“Where were you?” It’s not Brenda on the other side of the door. It’s Louise from next door.
“Hey, Jerry. I was coming over to check on you and Brenda. I haven’t seen her or Holden in a few days.” She scrunches her nose, looking around the house. So the stench isn’t only in my head.
I narrow my eyes, shielding them from the bright sun. It’s so bright, too bright for it to be early morning.
What time is it?
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes, I’m sure it is. I don’t know where she’s at, but she was just here.”
She looks around, inspecting the house as if not believing me, and simultaneously trying to figure out what died for it to smell like this.
