It’s not something I like to talk about. Not to everybody, you understand. I mean, it’s not like I’m embarrassed…just, it’s private. Special. And wrong.
Troy is my older brother. We’re about five years apart in age, which makes him twenty-four. I’m nineteen. Our parents split up when I was three and since Dad worked two jobs after getting custody of us, Troy looked after me while I grew up. I never knew either of my parents very well. When Dad got home from work he drank slowly and quietly until he was drunk enough to sleep, and I haven’t even spoken to my mom since I was twelve. Last I heard she was planning a cross-country road trip. I haven’t heard from her since she left.
Troy wasn’t exactly voted most popular in high school. He had auburn hair and dark eyes and was interested in politics and law – that doesn’t make for a popular teenager. He was well built and dated frequently, but he never stayed with any girl for too long. He seemed to prefer the blonde, blue-eyed type, generally cheerleaders. Totally not what I expected from him. But I was just his kid sister – someone who held him back, someone he had to come to early to cook supper for, to make sure I made curfew. He never complained but I felt like a burden. Anyway, he won a couple of scholarships at graduation and left for college when I was fourteen. I was devastated. I just couldn’t picture my life without Troy.
Well, Troy’s reputation as a quiet type followed me through high school. It wasn’t totally off the mark anyway. I was lost without Troy’s advice and guidance and got involved with some crazy kids my freshman year. I drank a lot that year – so much that I scared myself. I felt worthless and alone. After a bad mix up with the cops (I was lucky; they dropped the charges for underage drinking because it was my first offence) I went clean and devoted myself to school. Still lonely and friendless, I looked forward to Troy coming home in the summer more than anything.
Those summers brought us closer than ever. Troy made me feel beautiful and loved just by talking to me and sitting with me outside in the summer dusk. We sat and talked every night, each summer bringing us closer. He started bringing girls home less and less until last year, when he didn’t bring any home at all. When I asked him why, he said it was because he was more and more embarrassed about Dad’s drinking. But there was a painful glint in his eye before he turned away.
Well, I’m not getting any scholarships at graduation this year, so unfortunately I’ve had to put off college. There just isn’t any money for me to go without scholarships, so I decided to get a job and try to put myself through. I was so upset and disappointed that I couldn’t finally leave home that Troy told me I could move in with him, but I was scared to move to a city without a job or anything to fall back on. I grew up in a tiny town in Georgia and Troy goes to school in Dallas. As much as I wanted to get out of my house I couldn’t be a burden to him, especially now that he was going into law school. I told him I could work just as well from home and then I’d join him the next fall. He promised me that he’d make me change my mind this summer. “What does that mean?” I wondered.
“Hi, Callie,” someone whispered behind me.
“Oh, my God, Troy, it’s you!” I exclaimed. “You scared me half to death. Let me finish these dishes and I’ll make you something to eat. You must be starving.”
“Don’t worry about it, honey,” he whispered. “Keep it down, will you? Don’t wanna wake him up.” He nodded his head behind him at the living room, where Dad lay sleeping on the couch, an empty glass of whiskey on the table.
“Sorry,” I smiled. “Want to go sit on the porch, or what?” I peeled off the rubber gloves, abandoning the dishes. Surely Dad wouldn’t mind. Of course, when did he mind about anything? “When did you get in?”
“Just stepped off the bus fifteen minutes ago, ma’am.” Troy answered. “Got a ride from the station with Don’s dad. You remember Don? He’s a marketing supervisor in Miami now.”
“Wow.” Yeah, I remembered Don. Too well. He was one of Troy’s oldest and most trusted friends. But why did Troy sound so different? It was like he was holding something back from me. The happiness slowly faded from my eyes, and then I noticed – Troy only had an overnight bag. What was going on?
“Troy – what’s up?” I asked softly.
“Let’s go on the porch, okay, Cal?” he asked, looking again at the sofa.
“Sure,” I said uncertainly. We went out, careful not to let the screen door slam behind us.
“I’m not staying, Cal.” Troy didn’t look at me. The tears were welling in his eyes; he knew how much this would hurt me. Another whole year without him, stuck here! “I can’t do it,” I thought wildly. “I can’t take another year of this.”
“What do you mean?” I stammered. “You have to stay.”
“I can’t do another year of this, honey,” he said quietly, nodding his head toward the open screen door. “And I’m not letting you, either.” His jaw tightened. “He’s never been a father to you,” he muttered.
“I have nowhere to go, Troy,” I whispered, tears choking my words. “And I’m all he’s got.”
“You’re all I’ve got, Callie,” Troy said huskily. “Doesn’t that count for something? I’ve been there for you for years; be there for me now.”
“Oh, God,” I said. I felt unbelievably guilty and scared. I wanted so badly to go with Troy but I felt obligated to stay with Dad in spite of everything.
“He’ll go to bed soon,” Troy said. “When he goes, go pack everything that matters. We’ll take the bus out tonight. Don’s dad is coming by at eleven tonight to take us to the station. I have to go for a walk, Callie…I can’t even be around him anymore. He abandoned us, just like Mom. I can’t deal with that anymore.”
“Troy, I don’t know,” I whispered, drying my tears.
“Callie, I’m never coming back.” He looked at me directly, touching my hand.
“Okay.” I said quietly, resolutely. There was no way I was going to give up Troy forever. When he got up and left, I quaked inwardly. What if Dad caught me? What would he do? I was afraid of Dallas; afraid of a big city and not having a job. When I saw Dad slowly climb the stairs to bed, I slipped inside and tiptoed to my bedroom off the kitchen. I began stuffing things into big garbage bags – I would sort it out in Dallas. Dallas! I grew afraid again and stopped. Was Dad still awake? No, I think that was the house settling. After I got everything packed I sat on my bed, pressing my hands together to keep them from shaking.
Suddenly the door opened. “Callie…” Dad said in his drunken slur. “What are you doing, baby girl?” He looked at my room, at the garbage bags on the floor. “Where do you think you’re going?” He smiled drunkenly. “Running off, like your mother.” He reached towards me, touched my long auburn hair. “You look a lot like your mother,” he breathed, moving close to me. “I think we need o do something before you leave.” He stumbled towards me, my eyes growing wider in horror. “I’m not letting you leave me again without fucking,” he slurred.
