Page 18 of PS: I Hate You
“You assume?”
“Josh gave them to me.”
Of course he did. My brotherwouldgift his perpetually black-wearing friend a pair of pink briefs covered in pineapples.
Not only did Dom keep the underwear, but he wore them to my brother’s funeral.
I don’t want to dig into the emotions brought up by that fact. So instead, I attempt to be the responsible one in this duo.
“What’s the procedure here? Any more directions?”
Dom doesn’t answer right away. He stands knee-deep in the ocean, immobile as waves pound his shins, and he stares at me, his hands still resting on that small stretch of skin that looks tight yet soft and might taste like salt now that the ocean air clings to him…
Wanting more of the numb, cleansing feeling that comes with the ocean water, I wade out farther. The waves push and pull at me,as if they want me to keep going. As if this ocean wants me to be a part of it.
This will be one of the places that Josh lays to rest.
It makes sense that it is an ever-moving mass. My brother didn’t rest in life—why would he pause for even a moment after death?
I dip my hand into the water swirling around my thighs and bring a finger up to my lips, spreading the salty liquid on the seam of my mouth. I sneak my tongue out, knowing that this isn’t sanitary but needing to take some of this ocean into me. Testing it as if I am assessing its safety, when really I am only trying to remember everything about this place. Using all of my senses to drill this memory into my mind so I will never forget where Josh is.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Dom says, sounding close again.
I don’t want his voice to be part of this memory. He’s going to be here—next to me—for every one of these goodbyes. Every final moment with my brother will have the shade of Dom.
Why couldn’t this have been my task alone? Didn’t you trust me to follow through?
I could’ve done it. I would’ve done it for Josh.
“Stand here.” I point to my right side. “I’m going to just…let him go.”
Let him go.If only it were that easy.
Dom doesn’t argue as he comes to stand beside me, the heat of him radiating off his body in stark contrast to the numb sensation of my lower limbs. I pry the lid off the Rubbermaid, and the wind of the ocean already starts to stir the leavings of Josh.
“I will miss you.” Dom’s voice is steady while my hands shake.
I take note of the direction the wind is blowing and turn so Josh will fly with the breeze instead of back on us. I hold the container just above the water and let him spill out into the gentle waves, ready to watch the particles of my brother become one with the majestic ocean.
But the jackass floats.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter.
What I imagined was going to be a beautiful weaving of sparkling dust motes with saltwater waves instead looks like some sewage muck hanging out on the surface.
“This was supposed to be beautiful, Josh,” I rail at my brother. “I was supposed to start sobbing. Can’t you just fucking join with the ocean like you wanted?”
“He’ll mix in with time,” Dom mutters.
“Or he’ll wash up onshore and become a litter box for a seagull. Sink, you asshole!” With my hands, I press the remains of my brother into the water swirling around us. I don’t know if this is something that I should be grossed out by, but this day is weird enough as it is that I don’t have a measure anymore. My normal compass is broken. If I ever had one. If I did, I doubt I’ll be able to fix it.
“I thought this was a group activity,” I snap at the stoic man beside me. “Are you going to help me mix him in with the ocean? Or are you gonna stand there in your rainbow underpants and watch me do all the hard work?”
Dom hesitates a moment longer. Then his big hands join mine, pressing the ashes under the surface.
“Thank you.” My tone is all sarcasm.
If Josh wanted me to maintain an air of poise and loving sadness, then he shouldn’t have paired me with a jerk and asked me to dump his remains in the ocean when he was just gonna float his ashy ass around.