Page 44 of Phoenix
Jess fell asleep soon after we had indulged in one another, and I couldn’t help but take some time to simply watch her find her peace with me of all people. I stroke back her hair, enjoying the calm before the storm. I can no longer put off what I know is going to devastate me in some way. If Dad’s remaining memoir was in any way happy, there’s no way he or Lenny would have kept it from me. No, they feared for my unstable reaction, one that would have had no control if I did not have anyone to hold my shit together for.
“Sneaky bastard,” I mumble to myself as I stare down at the journal in front of me. I have a beer bottle and a shot of tequila all lined up ready for the moment my world comes crashing down.
I chuck the journal on top of the table and slump my shoulders back against the couch, huffing out a long sigh as I do so. An image of my mother’s terrified face from that night has me slamming my eyes shut and shaking my head. Intrusive thoughts have been the bane of my life ever since that house exploded with my mother still inside of it. Sometimes I wish I had remained inside with her; at least she wouldn’t have died alone. But then I remember Lou, her tiny mouth screaming for air while the thick fog of smoke began burning her body from the inside out. She was the reason I got out and I can’t ever regret that.
Thoughts of my mother bring me back to the journal in front of me, taunting me with secrets I’m certain I don’t want to know. And yet, they are secrets he wished me to know. Secrets about my parents and not only their beginning but also my own. And for the reason that he obviously wanted me to read it, I pick up the old notebook, take the shot of tequila, and will myself to open the cover.
_____
Diesel
I shouldn’t be here I tell myself as I walk up to Clara’s front door. I should be leaving well alone, trusting that my old foster mom can look after Mia without my input. But after five months of endlessly thinking about the poor girl who had had to sit in a puddle of her own urine, I can no longer stand the thought of not ever knowing what happened to her. To understand how she ended up in that house, desperate to be anywhere but there.
As the front door looms in front of me, with its big brass knocker that isn’t in any way in keeping with the rest of the houses along this street, I flex my hands in and out a couple of times. They’re clammy and itching to rub through my hair. Ridiculous, considering the types of men I’ve come across over the last two weeks alone. I’ve been beaten to a pulp more than once in my life and have a broken nose to prove it. But this is terrifying. The thought of what Mia is going to say when she finally sees me again has been enough to keep me up at night.
Before I can do anything else, the door opens wide, letting a stream of light attack my eyes without warning. My breath gets caught in my mouth and I must look slightly out of it because Ruth is now looking at me with all kinds of concern.
“Dee, are you ok?” she asks, grabbing my arm and pulling me inside. I remember having a little crush on her when I lived here, but she only ever saw me as a skinny kid with puppy dog eyes. I may have filled out a lot, but I’m still nothing more than a puppy dog to her, and she’s more like a big sister to me.
“I’m ok,” I lie, with my heart beating at what feels like twice its regular rate.
“You look awful,” she laughs, and I cannot help but smile. Even on my worst days, Ruth would always turn my problems into a joke, something to laugh about. Without fail, she could bring me out of my angst, if only for a few moments. “Who are you here to see? Mom or Mia? I’m quite protective of both, you know.”
“Is that so?” I tease, walking past her as she opens the door wider for me.
“Little Mia and I have become firm friends, almost like sisters,” she says, and I lose a little of my anxiety. With Ruth on her side, Mia will have strength behind her. “I won’t let just any old guy come and talk to her.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not any old guy,” I tell her, “I consider us family, Ruth.”
“Hmm, sounds kind of strange; she’s my sister, you’re my brother, but you are not that to each other. I knew Mom’s profession would land me in therapy one day.”
“Has she said anything about any of it yet? Like mentioning the asshole who had her hiding inside of the cupboard?” I ask with every muscle in my face tensed up in apprehension.
“Nope,” she says bluntly, “you obviously weren’t worth mentioning. However, regarding everything else, where she came from, she refuses to talk about it. You can tell she thinks about it though, she often falls inside of her own daydreams. When the police came looking for her, she told them she hadn’t seen her mother for months, that she had run away to live on the streets. Mom didn’t correct her, which I know she’s conflicted about, but you know Mom; she likes to earn their trust before anything else.”
“No, that’s good,” I tell her with a nod of my head. “Their deaths were ruled as gang-related. Between you and me, I went back to the house once more, to trash her room so nobody could see she had been living there. I promised her I wouldn’t let her go back there, figuratively or literally. I keep my promises, Ruth.”
“I know,” she says sadly, “but tread carefully now, Diesel. Don’t push her beyond her limits.”
I nod before reaching a bedroom door, behind which I’m guessing I’ll find Mia. Ruth knocks twice and with a gentle call of her name. We listen to a scuffle coming from the other side, then step back when her footsteps pace toward the door. When the door finally opens, bringing with it a waft of fresh cotton sheets, the same scent I remember from when I lived here, I drop my mouth open in shock. Before me stands a girl who looks almost like a different person. Still shy and nervous, she glances to the floor before looking up at me with big brown eyes, long dark hair, and a complexion that looks a hell of a lot healthier than it did. She even has a rosy hue to her cheeks.
“H-hi,” I whisper, to which she momentarily smiles before straightening her features again. “Do you remember me?”
“I do,” she says with the softest of voices, “you’re kind of hard to forget.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot,” I reply, “one or both of my parents must have been tall. I wouldn’t know, never met them.”
“I’m sorry,” she says sadly, “though sometimes that’s a blessing.”
“Mia, Diesel’s come to talk to you; you ok with that?” Ruth asks, looking into Mia’s eyes as if to say it’s ok if she doesn’t want to. She says nothing but nods her head.
“Has Clara still got that old yard set out back?” I ask Ruth.
“No, that old set got put on the bonfire years ago,” she laughs, “but there’s a shiny new one in its place. You go outside and I’ll make us some tea. Still two sugars, Dee?”
“Sure. Thanks, Ruth.”
I smile nervously before leading the way to the backyard, with Mia following behind me. Neither of us talks until we’re outside, sitting uncomfortably on the yard couches, all soft and squeaky from how new they are. From the looks of things, I’d say Mia is feeling as anxious as I am.