Monday, Jan 14
This evening I just showed up at my big brother Tony's door with a duffle bag/ As I knew he would, he invited me in.
"How's everything going, Beth," he says.
"Peachy," I say, "just figured I'd stop by for a visit."
"Can see that, he says looking at my bag. "Well don't just stand there come on in."
It is a small one-bedroom apartment in Frenchtown near his shop. I walk through the tiny galley kitchen. This place must have been built before there were fire codes. That door is the only way in or out of the apartment. I drop my bag on the coffee table and look around. Good I think, the paused game system was set up in its single player mode. I had been hoping that he was alone tonight. Mom said that his on-again-off-again girlfriend Becky had moved out again. I thought that Tony could do so much better in life than her.
"Does mom know you're here?" He asked.
"Nope."
"Call her," he said, handing me his cell phone.
"Look... I was hoping I could stay here for a few days. We got into another fight about school."
"Of course you can stay," he says. "But first call her so that she knows that you're okay."
"So," I say, looking at the television after calling mom and telling her that I was alive and only three miles away. "What are you playing?"
"B-O-B..."
"Can I play?"
"Sure," he says.
He saved the game he was playing, then switched to dual mode and handed me the wired controller. I made a sad face and he traded, giving me the nicer wireless controller with the fancy button extensions. Damn, that was too easy, I thought. Tony is such a nice guy, Becky is a fool.
"You are Flight Leader?" I say trying to reciprocate his generosity.
"You know it, wingman."
We have played video games together since we were little. His current favorite is "Battle of Britain," where you fly Spitfires and try to shoot down Heinkels and Messerschmitts. Years ago I used to sit on his lap when we played. But, while comforting, that really wouldn't be appropriate now however. Growing up was a double-edged sword, today it had really sucked.
"So," said Tony, five minutes into our first mission of the evening, "what's up?"
"I thought come over and cheer you up," I said.
"Thanks, it's working," he said. Then a minute later after we jumped and downed a He-111, "I meant with you."
In time I said, "I had a fight with mom and dad."
A minute or so later he said, "duh."
Our conversation continued at this pace, with a minute or two and plenty of digital activity separating each question and each response.
"I want to quit school," I said.
"Why?"
"I've taken all the classes that I'm interested in..." I said.
"I'm doing an unpaid internship at the Foundry...
"They put me in charge of people they are paying salaries to...
"I'm a schmuck working for free. If I wasn't in school I could get ahead faster..."
"You only have a semester left," he said.
"A lifetime..."
"You're seventeen," he said.
"Wow," you've forgotten, I feigned hurt. "How could you. I'll be eighteen--"
"On Friday, I know," he said immediately. "Is that why it's a crisis now?"
"Pretty much," I said, " I don't need their permission to quit next week."
"That's short-sighted..."
"Why?"
"Sheesh, Beth, you've done twelve and a half-years..." He said.
"Why break-out before your parole hearing...
"Stick it out...
"Get the stupid piece of paper. Then...
"Go and do your own thing."
We played until we were really hungry. Just like we used to when Tony lived at home. I have actually played here a few times over here. When Becky was being a worse bitch than usual and trying to push or pull Tony this way or that. But Becky didn't like my coming over. Tony had always said to just come anyway. But, I didn't want to add to the excess of drama, so I didn't.
We had a nice dinner, Tony boiled some frozen Tortellinis, and served them in a pesto sauce and I made a salad. After dinner he moved the coffee table, pulled out the sofa bed and put a set of clean sheets on it. We played another short video game before he said goodnight and retreated to his bedroom.
Wednesday, Jan 16
I wake up this morning to the smell of fresh coffee and the sounds of Tony in the shower. I look at my cell phone and then the clock on the wall thinking that I had slept through my alarm, I haven't. Tony just got up earlier than yesterday and much earlier than I thought he would.
"Hey there sleepy head," he says as he exits the bathroom and walks to his bedroom.
I am standing in the kitchen pouring myself a cup of coffee when he emerges in his work clothes.
"Would you like some breakfast," I say, offering to make it.
Laughing a tiny bit under his breath, he says, "I've already had some, but thanks. Make yourself anything you want before going to school."
"Yeah, you know, about that..."
"Look, Beth, you have at least four more days counting today," he says. "Please go to school today. We can talk about it tonight if you want."
"Okay," I say. "Why are you up so early?"
"I have a build that I want to get caught up on. Morning is the perfect time to actually get some work done, nobody bothers you."
Tony builds, rebuilds and does custom mechanical work on motorcycles. Just twenty-one, he is already a partner in a small shop with a sterling reputation for high-quality work.
I go to school. Well, because Tony wants me to, and for no other reason.
I would love to get into an art school somewhere. But that isn't happening. Whether I graduate or not, I'm probably going to be doing the same thing a year from now. The only difference being how much crap I put up with between now and then. Tony never "tells" me to do something like mom and dad do; our dynamic is completely different. I freely admit that mom and dad also want the best for me, but we always butt heads when they "tell" me what to do. When my brother "asks" me, it makes me want to comply and please him.
I go over to Tony's shop after school, Leroy, his partner, knows me and lets me into the back workshop. I have a key to Tony's apartment, but it's fun to see what he does at work. Today he has all the parts coming off of a really old V-twin laid out on a workbench and the case which is being stripped is on an engine stand nearby. I pull up a metal stool and sit down.
"How's it going?" I asked.
"Leroy is interested in selling his share of the shop." Tony said after a minute.
We seem to have a lot of these conversations, slow deliberate talks while we are both doing something else. Other folks don't get it, or they think that we are being rude. They think we can't be paying attention if we aren't kowtowing or looking them straight in the eye after dropping every-single- fucking-thing because talking to them was just-so-God- damned-important.
