Behind the Falls Page 29

  They get me out of the car and I stagger. It becomes apparent rather quickly that I’ll never make it under my own steam. Back in the car we go and Dad pulls out of the parking space and drives Mom and me to the drop off area. We only have carry-on luggage but while we’re so close Dad gets a luggage cart and puts our things on it before driving away to park again.

  Mom and I sit in some hard plastic chairs to wait and I eventually end up slumped against her half asleep. I blink and then Dad is there in front of us. He couldn’t have possibly parked and walked back in the space of a blink…

  They must let me sleep for a while because the next time I open my eyes it’s time to go through check in and boarding. Mom and Dad are both concerned that they won’t let me on the plane if I can’t appear to be more with it.

  “I’m fine,” I try to say but it comes out slurred. I sound drunk.

  “Just don’t say anything,” Dad suggests. It doesn’t help. I’m too clumsy and I can tell my reaction time is way off and talking is a chore. We’re held up for a bit while Mom digs out paperwork for the prescription meds and explains my intense fear of flying and the Xanax and eventually I’m allowed to get on the plane where I immediately slump in my seat and close my eyes. Mom has to fasten my seatbelt.

  When the plane finally takes off I don’t even squeeze the feeling out of Mom’s hand like I usually do. She doesn’t remove my seatbelt when the sign goes off because I NEVER take my seatbelt off on a plane. I don’t know why. It’s not like it’s going to save my life. I slump against her and I’m half asleep when she starts talking to my dad who is in the row in front of us.

  “I don’t like the way he’s breathing,” she says. I’m not hyperventilating anymore. She should be happy about that.

  “I’m fine,” I mumble.

  “Noah, wake up,” Mom says patting my cheek.

  “Jus lemme sleep…” I mumble.

  “It was only one extra dose right?” Dad asks.

  “Two,” I manage.

  “What was that, honey?” Mom…concerned.

  “I went to the nurse…”I can’t follow the train of the conversation anymore. They try to wake me but I just can’t open my eyes. The last thing I hear is Dad assuring Mom that it’s almost impossible to OD on Xanax and I’ll be fine.

  The plane lands in Chicago and I don’t even wake up which is alright by me. I slept through the entire flight. If I had known taking a triple dose of meds would make flying that easy I would have done it a long time ago. Mom and Dad are not pleased. Not only did they worry about me the entire flight (Dad tells me later that Mom kept listening to my breathing convinced that I’d stopped) but I can’t get myself off of the plane.

  When everyone else has disembarked my dad gets me out of my seat and practically carries me out of the plane which leaves Mom to deal with all of our bags. They must get some help from the flight attendant or something but I’m too out of it to know how we all get off the plane. I get plunked into a wheelchair where I slump half asleep. I guess someone from the plane called ahead for it.

  Our homecoming is pretty much ruined by me. Aunt Sarah and Kimber and her younger brother Chris came to pick us up and Chris hangs back while Aunt Sarah and Kimber rush over when they spot us. They both hug Mom excitedly but Mom is so concerned with me that she barely even hugs Aunt Sarah before turning her attention back to me.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Kimber sounds really upset.

  “He’s just really tired from the Xanax,” Dad explains.

  “He’s never been in a wheelchair before,” Kimber says in a small voice. I hate that she’s worried and I try to take her hand to give it a squeeze but my body isn’t really obeying me.

  “Fucking freak,” Chris mutters under his breath so that the adults don’t hear. It’s the last thing I hear before I’m out again.

  I wake up in vaguely familiar surroundings. I blink a few times and realize that I’m in Aunt Sarah’s basement. She has a finished basement and I usually sleep on the L shaped couch on the rare occasions that I sleep overnight. I’m on the couch which has already been made up like a bed and I’m minus my coat and shoes. I stretch and look around and that’s when I see Kimber sitting on the shorter section of the L.

  “You’re finally awake,” she tries a smile. It looks sad.

  “How did I get here?” I don’t really remember anything after the airport. I don’t remember getting into Aunt Sarah’s Honda Pilot or getting out of the car or into the house.

  “Your dad carried you in,” she says. “Everyone was really worried. Your mom called poison control and everything.”

  “It was just a few extra Xanax,” I say. I remember what Dad said on the plane. “It’s almost impossible to overdose on Xanax. I’m fine.” Kimber nods.

  “That’s what poison control said…as long as you don’t mix it with alcohol. Are you okay now?”

  “Yeah but I don’t know how long it will be before I can actually sleep for real,” I say as I sit and look at my favorite cousin. Her hair is longer than it was when I saw her last. It’s the lightest shade of red in the family, a pale, strawberry blonde and hangs in loose ringlets. Her gentian blue eyes look at me with worry.

  “Your hair got really long,” she says as she studies me too. I shrug.

  “Mom wants me to cut it but I kinda like it. I like to hide behind it,” I admit.

  “Noah, is everything really okay?” she asks. I shake my head.

  “We can talk about it tomorrow,” I say. “You’re probably exhausted.”

  “Nah, I napped for a bit while I was waiting for you to wake up and it’s not THAT late,” Kimber says. “Hey, let’s make a fort!”

  Kimber and I always used to make forts out of sheets and pillows when I slept over when we were kids. It would seem more likely that I would stay in Chris’s room but he’s two years younger and we never really did get along. When he calls me freak he means it.

  “Aren’t we too old for forts?” I laugh. Kimber jumps up and tugs at my hand to get me off of the couch to help her.

  “You’re never too old for a fort and I want to tell secrets!” she enthuses as she runs to the laundry room for more sheets. Shaking my head I’m soon helping her drape sheets over the back of the couch where we tuck them in against the wall and then we attach them to the back of some chairs that we dragged over from the other side of the room. Kimber runs upstairs to get extra blankets and pillows which we arrange on the floor and soon we’re lying on our makeshift bed staring up at sheets that hang so low that we can’t quite sit under them.

  “We are such dorks,” I say as I snuggle into the pile of pillows behind me.

  “The dorkiest,” she agrees. “But this is fun.” Kimber rests her head against my shoulder and we’re quiet for a while before she finally starts talking.

  “So, do you want to tell me why you want to come home? What happened with your friend? Tell me what’s making you so miserable, Noah.” I shrug which is hard to do lying down with Kimber’s head on my shoulder.

  “It was just a bad day. I don’t know. Sometimes things are hard and I don’t know if I’m just that much of a mess or if life is just this hard,” I sigh.

  “Well what about the fight with your friend? What happened there?”

  “I’m not ready to talk about that. I promise, before we leave we’ll talk but tonight…I’m just not up to it.”

  “Aunt Beth told Mom that you have a girlfriend now,” Kimber says teasingly. “Come on, Noah, give me the dirt. Why didn’t you tell me about that?”

  “I didn’t? Huh, I was sure I had. Well, I met her on the first day of school and her locker is near mine and we’re in a few classes together and homeroom. I spend a lot of time with her and I don’t know, I just asked her out the other week and we’ve been pretty steady since then.”

  “You MUST have pictures,” Kimber smiles. I pat my pockets for my phone. “It’s on the table. I’ll get it.” Kimber ducks out of the fort long enough to retrieve my phone as
well as her own. I start scrolling through pictures looking for one of Sherrie. Kimber stops me as I’m scrolling.

  “Wait, go back, who is that?” she’s stopped me on a picture of Max. “Open that!” I hesitate then open the picture to enlarge it. In the picture Max is giving that crooked grin that just shows a hint of teeth and his one dimple. His hair is brushed aside in a way that both of his vivid blue eyes show.

  “Oh.My.God,” breaths Kimber. “There are boys that look like that in Lansing? I wonder if Mom would let me move back with you.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s the ex-best friend,” I say quietly.

  “Well damn him then,” Kimber says and she’s not kidding. She’s very protective of me. “It’s all good. I’m like totally in love with Paul anyway. I would just about DIE if I had to move.”

  “So tell me about Paul. I know he’s a basketball player and that he’s way taller than you,” I encourage Kimber on her favorite topic. I know more about Paul than that since she talks about him every time we talk on the phone. I would just rather focus on her stuff tonight.

  “Well that first day when he checked me out, ignored me then checked me out? He kept looking away and trying to play it off like he wasn’t checking me out because he said he was intimidated by me which is totally ridiculous because he’s SO cute and popular and the captain of the basketball team and…oh, Noah! He’s just SO wonderful.”

  Kimber spends the next half hour talking about her wonderful boyfriend and showing me pictures. I guess he is good looking. She shows me picture after picture of him each one different but the same. Here he’s smiling and his blue eyes are crinkling. There he looks serious but he looks pretty much the same in all of them. He’s very photogenic I guess. His eyes are just a regular pale blue though, almost gray, nothing special.

  There’s a picture of the two of them side by side, his arm around her and he’s got to be at least six feet tall and Kimber is all of five one. I wonder how they kiss. I imagine she has to stand on tip toes and he has to bend practically in half to reach. Maybe all of their kissing is done sitting or…lying. I do NOT want to think of my sweet cousin in THAT kind of position.

  “Noah, I want to tell you something because I know I can trust you and I know I can tell you anything. I just need to tell someone but you have to SWEAR you won’t say a word!” Kimber and I never swear. It’s an unspoken agreement that we won’t tell each other’s secrets or judge each other for anything ever. I’m afraid of what she’s going to say.

  “I won’t tell. I swear I would never tell but, Kimber, please don’t say…” but she’s nodding and smiling.

  “Yeah, last Saturday when his parents were away for the evening. We were going to go to the movies but instead we went to his house and well, you know. Oh, Noah, I just love him so much! It was really the right thing for me, really. Please don’t be angry!” I don’t know what to say. My sweet little cousin (younger by two months) has just confirmed that she lost her virginity to her first real boyfriend. It makes me so sad but some of that sadness, a lot of it actually, is for myself. Because when am I going to feel that?

  “What is it like…being in love I mean?” I ask in a whisper.

  “It’s butterflies in my stomach and it’s wanting to be near him all of the time. He’s the last thing I think of every night when I go to sleep. It’s just…it’s so amazing! You don’t feel that with Sherrie?” I shake my head.

  “I LIKE her a lot. I really do, but I know it’s not love. Should it have happened by now? Will I know if it does? How does it happen? I just don’t understand anything. I mean, I don’t get butterflies when I kiss her. I don’t feel my heart pounding when I see her but I LIKE kissing her and I’m always happy to see her.”

  “Well, you are only sixteen. Mom says high school romances are doomed and it’s better not to be in love until you’re older. I think she’s just afraid of me and Paul getting too close…too late, Mom! But I don’t think you should worry about it. I mean, if you really like her then that’s good too.”

  “I’ve never…I’ve just never met a girl or even seen a girl and just, I don’t know, WANTED her, you know? I mean I can watch a movie and think well that actress is beautiful or I can see a girl at school and think she’s really cute but I’m just never like turned on or something. Is that weird? Am I really fucked up?” I would have never said this outside of our fort but the intimacy under the sheets where no one else can see us, no one else can hear and the fact that I can talk to Kimber like no one else has me admitting things I’ve never said out loud.

  “Never? Like, don’t you fantasize when you’re you know…”Kimber won’t come out and actually say the word masturbate or any of its more vulgar synonyms. I shrug once again.

  “I just do it, get it done. That’s it. No fantasy. Geeze, what is wrong with me? I AM a fucking freak.” I’m suddenly horribly embarrassed. “Can we pretend I never said any of that?”

  “No, because I think you need to talk about this. It’s obviously bothering you. So you’ve never been attracted to anyone like sexually?” I choke at the way she just comes out and says it when she couldn’t say the word masturbate.

  “Uh, I don’t know. I mean, I guess not. How is that even possible? I’m a sixteen-year-old guy. I’m supposed to be all raging hormones...”

  “Maybe you’re just not ready?” Kimber suggests. “Maybe with everything else, I mean, maybe you’ve just been so busy dealing with your stuff that it just hasn’t happened yet. Maybe it’s your meds.” I think for a minute. I think about the one time I DID feel butterflies and stomach flips and what I can only imagine was desire even if I don’t want to admit it to myself let alone out loud. I shove the memory down where it can’t hurt.

  “What if it doesn’t happen, like, ever? What if I’m just…broken?”

  “Would it be that big of a deal? I mean, if you never feel any of that you’ll never have your heart broken,” Kimber is always so practical.

  “But then it also follows that I’ll never be in love and sometimes I think I want that someday more than anything…more than being normal even…maybe even now.”

  “Hey, maybe you’re like asexual or something,” Kimber seems too excited about that prospect but it doesn’t sound good to me even though I have no idea what she means. When I look at her blankly she explains. “I just did this really interesting paper for school about sexuality. Did you know that there’s more than just straight and gay? There’s like a whole list of different kinds of sexual orientations and identities…”

  “So what is being asexual then? Like , you don’t HAVE a sex? Because I mean, I do, duh.”

  “No, it means a person has low or absent interest in sex. Asexual people can have romantic feelings of love but may not feel any sexual attraction…”

  “Just stop, Kimber. I know you’re trying to help but you’re really kinda not,” I feel worse than I did before we even started the conversation, not better. “Let’s get back to you. You used protection, right?” This starts a whole new conversation about Paul and his awesomeness and even though it’s more information than I probably want to hear about my sweet cousin, it’s better than thinking about me. She talks late into the night and I just enjoy being with her again. She’s basically been my best friend my whole life. I’ve really missed her.

  The next morning I’m woken by a sneaker covered foot kicking my bare one. “Come on, get up for breakfast you freaks,” It’s Chris. Kimber groans and kicks back at him so he must have kicked her feet too. Our feet are the only parts of us sticking out of the fort. We both crawl out sleepily.

  Chris stands there staring at us like we’re from another planet. “You guys are so weird,” he says. “I wish I was an only child. She’s just as weird as you.” Then he turns and heads up the stairs.

  Chris is fourteen and so far he’s taking after my mom’s side of the family. Mom and Aunt Sarah are both pretty short with red hair. I got lucky and got my Dad’s height but Chris didn’t get so lucky. He’s only
around five three which is still two inches taller than Kimber but it’s shorter than a lot of boys his age. His hair is carrot red too and he’s got the milky skin and freckles to go with it. Maybe he’s a jerk so that he doesn’t get picked on, who knows? We’ve never been close like Kimber and I are.

  Breakfast is light, just eggs and toast, because there’s going to be a huge feast later in the afternoon. Aunt Sarah tries to put extra food on my plate. “You’ve gotten so thin, Noah,” she says.

  “We’ll fatten him up at dinner,” Kimber sticks up for me as usual.

  My dad and Chris are planning on watching football all day. My dad isn’t HUGE on sports but he likes them more than I do. I really only watch hockey and can’t get into any other sports. Dad’s always tried to do some sporting things with Chris since his dad left so long ago and neither Chris nor Kimber really has any father figure. When they were kids they used to spend a month every summer and Christmas break with their dad out in California but now that they’re older and their dad has a new family they’ve opted out of those visits. Now the only real contact they have with their dad is an occasional phone call and some fat checks.

  So while my dad does the pseudo father thing with Chris and Chris laps up the male attention, Kimber and I go for a walk. I hunch into my coat. It’s even colder here than it was in PA. We visit with my friend Kevin who lives across the street from my house. They have an early dinner, more like late lunch, so we don’t stay long. We linger in front of my house afterwards. It turns out that the professor that’s taking over Dad’s classes this year is renting it with his family. I wonder if they’re having dinner in my old dining room right now. I wonder if there’s a teenager or a child sleeping in my room. It’s odd and I don’t like it.

  “It’s weird, it still feels like I can walk right in that front door and Dad will be watching football and Mom will be cooking Thanksgiving dinner, which is really stupid because we always spent Thanksgiving at Gran’s. I don’t hate Lansing but did we really need to move? I mean, couldn’t I have gone to school here with you?”