The Hurt Patrol Page 4

  Such a great day . . .

  Throughout the autumn of their freshman year, Beau and Jewels were project partners. Thus Beau spent a lot of time at her house, and he learned a lot of things. For example, he learned his mom and dad were considered big-city people, eccentric, and a little stuck-up. Also, they hadn’t chosen any church to attend, in all the time they had been in town. Because Beau’s mom said she was still looking, but whatever. That’s what Jewels reported the girls at school said, and that they were all a little scandalized, as were their families.

  Beau didn’t see the big deal. In his opinion, people act the same, with or without church. Church ladies were nice; his mom was nice, and his dad was likewise, till he drank too much. Then he wasn’t nice—and Beau doubted he would be, regardless of his church choices. And together his dad and mom were just bad. They were so bad together. But things were changing there too.

  A while back Gina had tried to get Jason to check his drinking and though it was getting worse, he had flatly refused. So now she had a different plan. They would all go to therapy. She wanted them to see a family counselor, but Jason still wasn’t keen. He freaked out that it was too expensive and there was no problem; all they had to do was just be nicer. So over the phone the counselor suggested that Gina should come by herself. That made Jason beam triumphantly, like now it was obvious who was responsible for the fights. He said go.

  So Gina did go by herself. A few times. But then Jason wanted her to quit. Gina had wanted to keep going, but the cost of the appointments started fights, so she quit. But then she bought some books. When Beau looked to discover what had come in the mail, he found they were self-help manuals: Improve Your Marriage, etc. At the time she didn’t read them, just put them in her bookcase.

  Till about two months later when Beau noticed she had them out every time he came home, reading and writing in them. When he mentioned it, and asked what was up, she said it was just nice to know that other people were trying to figure out ways to be happier. She said she liked to know she had company. And then she started to act a little differently.

  Beau began noticing it was quieter. His mom didn’t fight with his dad like she used to. When his dad would start getting mad about something, she’d agree to think about it, then if he kept blustering, she’d bounce and take a walk. She started online courses in interior design. She bought a staple gun and sewing machine. She changed the back bedroom into a sewing room/office. She kept the spare bed.

  It made Beau uneasy. He could hear her typing really fast in there, sometimes, with the door closed . . . but her forehead was smoother than it had been in years. She smiled with her eyes again.

  Finally, after what turned out to be a sort of strange last fight invoking the Middle Ages and poodles, as well as other randomness, Jason grabbed his stuff and bailed, and after his dad drove off, Beau and his mom sat and watched the moon rise. She said she was done.

  Beau gets quiet. I glance over at him as he stares stonily out the car window. He sighs and looks over at me then and seems almost embarrassed.

  I turn my eyes to the road. “Keep telling me. Then I’ll tell you my stuff later.” I continue navigating.

  The Last Fight. It started over him. Because it always started over him. . . .

  Whereas she used to freak out about everything, now Gina would get almost pensive, like she was recalling the appropriate response to pass an exam, “I am going to do things differently now. I don’t want to always fight and never resolve.” Gina sounded like she was flatly quoting, which, in fact, she was.

  Not Jason: “Whatever the hell that means! You sound like a zombie! Plus you’re ganging up on me on account of that shrink that you wanted to go pay to bitch about me all the time.”

  “He wanted to talk to you too. I wish you would, Jason. I wish we’d all go. It’s a good idea. It helped me figure things out.”

  “No! They’ll blame it all on me. I get enough of that around here—for free!”

  “There is no ‘they,’ Jason. It’s a good thing to just go talk . . . it’s a relief!”

  “No.”

  So the bad, weird last fight: Beau’s mom was in the kitchen, rustling up dinner. Beau was sitting on the couch with a new video game he was playing, but he could hear the new indistinct rumbling that had replaced the old-time habitual yelling. The whispering was weirdly not reassuring, though. And he could hear them saying his name.

  Then Jason came and plopped down beside Beau on the couch. Beau glanced over as he heard the sinister rattle . . . ice cubes. He could see out of the corner of his eye his dad was extremely pissed.

  Jason looked over. “Whatcha doing?”

  “Vids.” Beau felt nervous.

  “Duh. Are you winning?”

  “Nah. You never win.” Beau smiled at his dad, who was so mad. It didn’t help.

  “Yes, you do. That’s just some more garbage your mom feeds you.”

  Beau didn’t answer. He knew when he was being dogged. He continued his cyber sniping.

  His dad continued his real-life sniping. “Yep. She just tells you what to do, and you just do it. Like a poodle! You a poodle, Beau? You your ma’s poodle?”

  “No.” Beau kept his eyes on the screen.

  “Ya sure? You look like one. You got poodle hair.” Jason smacked Beau on the head, a glancing swat that was not unaffectionate. “Poodle.” Beau’s hair was long and wavy.

  Beau didn’t bite, just shrugged and dodged his head away and kept playing. “No, I don’t.”

  “Yeah, you do, Poodle Boy.” Jason sat and watched Beau, taking his time . . . then vindictively, he fired his largest caliber bullet, right at Beau’s heart:

  “Hey, by the way, you know your mom has a boyfriend now, don’t you?”

  And with those words, Beau’s world crashed. He looked at his dad, aghast.

  Jason saw he’d struck pay dirt. “No?! Well, she does! I didn’t know if she told you that. Yep, her old buddy, Matt.”

  “Nuh-uh,” Beau whispered, staring at his dad, his game forgotten.

  “Yuh-huh!” Jason bugled gleefully. “She talks to him all the time on Facebook.”

  Beau decided the best course was ignoring his dad till he could check this out with his mom. But his dad was too mad for that. Still glaring at Beau, Jason raised his voice.

  “Right, honey?! Isn’t that right? Don’t you have a boyfriend these days? Tell our son about him.”

  Gina came into the living room. Her eyes were enormous. She stood there staring at both of them.

  Beau had frozen. He could tell by his mom’s face and his dad’s weird tragic triumph that it was true.

  “Mom . . .”

  “Unbelievable, Jason . . .” she whispered in revulsion. “Beau, I don’t have a ‘boyfriend’ . . . whatever! But I am in touch with my friend Matt from high school.” She stared at him, ignoring Jason. “That is what Facebook is for. And yes, Matt was a boyfriend, but your dad, Mr. 411, here, is also in touch with a lot of his old friends, some of whom are old girlfriends. Somehow, though, that’s okay.”

  “It’s different because I never even talk to them.”

  “Well, that sounds pointless, Jason! Maybe you should. It’s great to vent to friends.”

  “Oh, is that what you call it?”

  “Mom . . .” Beau hadn’t moved. He couldn’t breathe—couldn’t inhale.

  Gina glared at him. Defiantly.

  “Is it true?” He stared at her, willing it not to be. He felt like he was drowning.

  “Ask me a question, Beau. I have no idea what exactly you’d like me to clarify.”

  “Yes, you do! Are you cheating on Dad?”

  His mom stared him down—straight into his eyes. “No.”

  “Are you Facebooking with your old boyfriend?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mom!” Beau felt slapped. Or gut-punched. “It’s the same thing!”

  “Oh, for god’s sake, Beau.” She almost laughed. “And about three hundred other people to
o!”

  “Whatever, Mom!”

  This dynamic was new: Beau, mad at his mom—on the same side as his dad. Jason wheezed with delight. “Yeah! Go get ’er, kid!”

  But Beau didn’t need to be spurred. “Is that what you do when you go and close the door and type? You’re bitching to someone on Facebook? Some dude? Mom!”

  “Yeah, right?!” Jason sniggered, inciting a riot. “Hee! Hee!”

  Then Gina got really mad: “So, let me get this straight; I don’t get to be on Facebook, or anywhere, with friends?” She stared at Beau, continuing to ignore Jason. “I never get to be myself, or relax? But you do! And your dad here, he pretty much does whatever he wants, so this just applies to me?” Beau could see his mom was sincerely pissed. It checked his own anger.

  Beau started to reply, but suddenly Gina snapped and started yelling. “SORRY—are we suddenly in Saudi Arabia?!” she screeched, as she looked from one to the other, “or did a big old twister blow us to the Middle Ages, and I missed it? Because, if that didn’t happen, I won’t be needing a burka anytime soon. Sorry about that, GUYS. And I want you both to listen to me here: I WILL have FRIENDS . . . !”

  “Oh! OH! Friends! THAT’S a good name for it!” Jason shouted. He glanced at Beau.

  “YEAH!” yelled Beau. But it made him feel pukey.

  “Maybe YOU could move to the Middle Ages and FINALLY be happy, Jason!” Gina shrieked.

  “Maybe I should! At least the damn women over there won’t CHEAT on me!”

  “Oh, my GOD! Jason! What a NUTCASE! ! You should listen to yourself! Plus you are LYING! So totally unfair—and you sound CRAZED!”

  “Better than A CHEATER!” Jason screamed so loud his voice cracked. Gina turned her red face away from his red eyes and glanced at Beau, who was pale and staring at her intently.

  “Mom?” His dark blue eyes were unblinking. His voice was very quiet. “Is it true?” he asked, again. He was getting his universe rocked. Not in the good way.

  She looked at him steadily. “No, Beau. But I want things to change . . . soon. After that, I don’t know.”

  Jason howled, as if in pain. “See?! So you are planning to cheat on me! That’s exactly the same!”

  “I’m not planning to cheat . . . I’m planning to separate.” Gina’s voice was super quiet and clear.

  The second she said those words, everything got extremely quiet. Beau could suddenly hear his heartbeat in the calm. Really loud, right in his ear. It made his head throb.

  Jason turned and stood there looking frantic for a second. Then he threw his glass against the wall. Gina and Beau expertly shielded themselves. It was heavy and didn’t shatter because Gina had learned about breakage over the years. Next Jason went into his standard combat mode—grabbed some clothes and stuff and headed for the pickup—as Gina followed him to the door and out on the porch.

  “We could never solve anything; you always bailed!” Gina hollered, using the past tense tellingly, as he strode away. But Jason was already in the truck and slamming the door. He started the engine with a roar. Gravel spattered as he gunned it. She chased him but he whipped away. “You wouldn’t talk”—she dashed behind him, down the rocky path he drove—“and we couldn’t get well!”

  She stopped then and stood still, looking down that road, as the crunching grew quieter, till she stood deserted in the deafening silence that he always left. Beau had been watching through the window. He came out and sat down on the porch steps.

  She turned back, then, and walked tiredly toward the house. Dust had settled in tear trails on her face. She climbed up and sat on the steps beside Beau. He didn’t move away when she sat down. They regarded the sky wordlessly, as they sat in the starlight, wishing.

  Silently, they watched the moon rise. It was gibbous, waxing. Mars was in opposition.

  “Things are going to change” is all she finally said.

  The crazy thing was everything did change. Everything. Jason decided he wanted his family back.

  It wasn’t that he’d had some game-changing epiphany and was now like the World’s Best Dad, but when he came over, he was sober and in a good space and so glad to see Beau that Beau began to wonder if maybe they had all been a little too hasty. The bad stuff did start to seem like kind of a dream.

  Beau’s mom was the only one who didn’t get all excited when Jason came over in a good mood. She was pleasant and very pleased to see him playing catch with Beau and doing dad things, but even Beau could see that if Jason was there trying to win Gina back, he was wasting his time.

  His dad actually did stay moved-out this time. He rented a smaller house not far away. In the old house, it was just Beau and Gina. They stayed put so Jason could visit anytime.

  Now it was pretty much weird, his dad being all nice and his mom being distant. Just bizarre. It really pissed Beau off.

  He started glaring at his mom. His dad was trying super hard to be good, and she was totally ignoring it! He liked his dad coming over, just to see him, to see what he was up to. But his mom wasn’t even trying. All Beau knew was wrong and bad, and it wasn’t the way he wanted it or the way it should be. His mom had stopped caring. Dammit, where was her common decency?

  Beau liked this new dynamic with his dad. It mended something inside him, which had been unconsciously crumbling for a while. When he confronted his mom about it, she looked at him levelly.

  “No, sweetheart . . . he can’t move back in.” Gina answered him gently, but firmly. “I have felt so much better, even with all the new money worries; no way can I go back to the anger and craziness that we slogged through every day. I’m sorry, baby . . . I can’t. I feel like I’ve just gotten over the flu.”

  Beau persisted, in his new perma-pissed-off mode.

  “Can’t—or won’t?!” He said it like “gotcha!”

  “Okay: won’t.” She stared back at him, refusing to be shamed. “I wanted you to get to be a teenager before it all fell apart, so you could know your dad, but this whole thing was just a matter of time. Your dad is too mad, and he tries to numb it by drinking, and I am too sick of it to try anymore. All I know is every time I’ve said okay to one more try, and he comes back, it changes right back to the way it was. You were just too young to understand, before.”

  “I totally understand! You aren’t interested anymore, because of this . . . guy!”

  “Wrong! I reconnected with Matt in 2008, when I first got on Facebook! It’s not like I just found him and am frantically running off leaving a happy marriage!” She groaned in frustration. “You know, Beau, there is so much I can’t tell you without being such a crappy mom. Could you just trust me that I know what I’m doing? Haven’t we always been pretty okay, you and me?”

  “Mom! You are changing up everything! Omg! I don’t even know what to SAY to you anymore!”

  “Quit yelling, Beau. I’m tired of being yelled at.”

  “Well, maybe you should listen to what I’m saying, then! I’m sorry you feel like you need something different, but this is the way it is! Welcome to Society!”

  “Jesus, Beau, you sound like some crazy person from the Middle Ages! Divorce sucks, but there it is. And at this time, it seems like the only option.”

  Beau gasped. He felt kicked. He actually got dizzy.

  Divorce.

  But Gina wasn’t done. “Furthermore, I think I will go visit Matt after I’m free. He has been a good friend.”

  “Oh, I bet,” Beau snarled as soon as he could take a deep breath. “He’s been a real pal!”

  Gina looked at him sorrowfully. She shook her head. But she remained resolute.

  “I’m sorry, baby. I hope your life goes so well that you never have to understand what I’m saying. Sometimes grown-ups get lost. Then you have to try to get your life back on track when you find yourself miserable, day after day . . . for your own sake and the ones who love you. You just can’t fake it your entire life.”

  He stared up into his mom’s drawn face—and then ran out of the hou
se.

  He ran to his bike and raced away. He headed to Pete and Jewels. His mom stood in the window and watched him whip past. He could feel her wretchedness as he rode by.

  And of course it started to rain, to increase the gloomy awfulness of it all. Twenty minutes later, speedily cycling, but now resembling a very wet and furious rat, Beau pulled up hard, braking abruptly into Pete’s driveway. He threw down his bike and went around to the basement entrance that the younger generation used almost exclusively.

  Pete was playing some new complicated game, with headsets on, planted in front of the TV screen. Jewels was on the old desktop computer, scrolling along her feed on Facebook. They looked up with gladness and relief. They were sooooo bored.

  “I’m going to be coming from a broken home now, so there’s that!” Beau announced, dramatically, as he fell on the couch beside Pete. It felt great to have a fresh and sympathetic audience.

  They both stared at him, without a word. But he had their attention. And that was enough.

  School was no better. It was fine in homeroom with Jewels and Rae Anne, and as long as Pete was there the halls were safe, but sometimes you had to get to the other buildings on the campus, and that was as random and dangerous as ever. The assholes of Garfield, always in a bunch, were as unmemorable individually, as all the bullies from other schools were in his memory—faceless and interchangeable. Though it was far less frequent than it had been in other schools without Pete, it was not unusual for Beau to get his backpack shoved off his shoulder and thrown downstairs, or his books scattered across the wet ground. After his laptop “accidentally” got knocked on the floor Beau knew better than to bring electronics, except for his cell phone. Fewer people had a smart phone at the time, so there was that, at least.