Walking Away

Fine

Johnathan

My room feels like it's mocking me. Perfectly clean, vacuumed and organized, sometimes it doesn't feel like mine. While I'd decorated Ali's and Kate's, and even Maddie's rooms, I hadn't ever tried much with mine. All my drawings were carefully put away, any personal affects were hidden away in case my mother came in. It was essentially a blank canvas.

I leaned against the wall, trying to just breathe for a second. 

The chores were done, Mom was gone, Ali had been dropped off at her sleepover. I had gotten off work for the day and there was no school tomorrow. Raven and I had finished the history project and turned it in, so I didn't have that to worry about anymore.

But I couldn't relax. I ended up pacing around the room, going around in endless circles. It was the one tick I couldn't break.

Mom never liked fidgeting. She said it distracted her. So I tried not to. Obviously, as a kid, I messed that up a lot - tapping, humming, shifting. Over time I just stopped entirely, disappearing into my thoughts for a distraction. But pacing was the habit that stuck, even now.

I turned on some music, figuring it would give me something to focus on. But it just wound me up even more, and I started singing softly to the lyrics. I'd been singing more lately, mostly due to the amount of practice I was getting at work.

I stopped quickly when I heard the door open, turning off the music. If it was mom, she wouldn't like it. Slowly opening my door, I caught her voice. She was on the phone.

"What? No, I'm home now. The kids are gone." I kept the door cracked, not wanting to make a noise by closing it. 

"I don't know where. Does it matter?" She threw her keys down, probably on the counter. "I'm just glad to have some space."

I sat down against the wall, flipping through a sketchbook, pausing on a portrait I'd finished about a year ago. It was Kenny's sister, Kate. She had wanted to feel famous, and she said only famous people had their portraits drawn. She had wanted to be a model one day, and have everyone draw her picture. I wonder if she still wants that, or if she changed her mind.

 Mom kept talking in the background, but I wasn't really paying attention until I heard my name.

"Of course he is. Probably dealing drugs as we speak. You know I don't care to keep track."

Well. Okay. Probably didn't need to hear that. I heard the other voice - she must have put it on speaker.

"Meredith, you shouldn't say that. What if the boy was dead in a ditch somewhere?" a guys voice.

"Honestly, I wouldn't care if he were. He's nothing but trouble."

"You don't mean that." I wanted to laugh. Yes, stranger, yes she did.

"I do, Dan, I really do. He does nothing but antagonize me. He messes with Alison all the time as if he were an adult. And he is so lazy, I swear. I'm forced to deal with his messes twenty-four seven." She sighed. "He is his fathers son."

Ugh. This again. I looked around for my headphones - this was the sort of thing I should be tuning out. If you listen, it gets in your head and it doesn't leave. Even when you know it isn't true.

Especially when you know it isn't true.

"If you really don't want him, why not call child services? They would take him off your hands." 

Wow. Great plan. Thanks, Dan. I shook my head at this new guy, but tensed as I waited for her response.

"Think of what people would say." She sounded resigned. "No, I'll just have to deal with it. You would think, being his mother, I would get some respect. But no, instead I receive constant slights and attitude from the ungrateful thing. I just know he'll turn out to be an awful man. He's just the kind of person the world would be better off without, you know?"

Ouch. That sort of stung. I focused on the sketchbook. I should draw something new. At the moment, I'm thinking a prison. Or a guillotine.

I turned the page, expecting a blank one, but found an old picture of Ali and Kate together at the park. A few months ago I would have sent a copy over to Kenny, but I can't really do that now.

"Has anyone complained about him?" I was liking this Dan guy less and less. At least he wasn't actually in the house.

"No. That's the worst part - he's got the whole world fooled, Dan. He just smiles at them and tells them his sob story, and they all let him skate by. He's a liar, and I hate to think of what example he's setting for Alison. He doesn't let the girl out of his sight." I could hear her moving around. "I just don't know what I did wrong."

Irritation flared up, and I closed my eyes, willing it away. Less is more. Silence is survival. This won't matter in three days.

My phone started ringing from across the room. I grabbed it and answered as quick as I could, but I'm sure she heard it. The question now was whether or not she would care.

There went silence.

"Jonah?" Mark. So he would be the cause of my death.

"Mark. Yeah, what's up?" I hope, for once, he'll just get to the point.

"Hold on, Dan." Mom's footsteps started my way.

"I'm here with Raven. We were thinking we could hang out, the three of us-" 

My door opened the rest of the way. And yeah, she definitely cared. "You're here."

"Yes, ma'am." I kept the phone down, so that she couldn't see the screen.

"Eavesdropping?" She crossed her arms, blocking the doorway. "When was the last time you had a conversation of your own?"

"Today. At school." I answered. And, technically, right now. I hadn't actually hung up on Mark. He would just call back, assuming it was a connection thing.

She rolled her eyes. I thought that was supposed to be the teenagers job. "Teachers don't count. What are you doing in my house?"

"I live here?" it sounded like a question. I cleared my throat. "I could leave for a while, if you want some privacy."

"Oh, you could leave? That would be just great, Jonathan." 

It sounded sarcastic, but I nodded anyway. I stepped towards the door, hoping she would move.

"Excuse me." I saw her eyes widen. They were unfocused, and I realized she had been drinking. She was looking for an argument.

"Am I in your way? Did you forget my world doesn't revolve around you?" I kept still, hoping she would get bored.

Mom stepped back enough so that I could get by, catching my arm as I went past. I froze, stiffening automatically.

"I always knew you'd turn out like your father. He left when it was convenient, too." Her blue eyes met mine. Even unfocused and bloodshot, they seemed cold. "It's just so sad how he left you here and never looked back." There was a small smile. "Of course, he was more than willing to take your sister."

I pulled away, covering the distance to the front door as she laughed.

"There's no need to be so sensitive about it." she called out, amused. I just shook my head, stopping before I closed the door on my way out.

"I won't be home for dinner." I told her. I didn't look at her as I said it. I just left.

I walked down the street to clear my head, remembering I had a phone in my hand as Marks voice rang out. "Jonah? Jonah?"

I lifted it to my ear. "Yeah. Sorry. What was the question?"

"Do you want to hang out at the park next to the diner tomorrow?" He answered. "We'll bring food."

"Sounds good." I ignored the wounded feeling that my mother had left me with, shaking it off. "I'll see you then." I hung up, turning around to get my car. Luckily the keys were in my jacket pocket. If they had been in the house I would've just walked the fourteen miles.

I got a text from Mark as I pulled out. I didn't know your mom was there. Sorry.

It's fine.  I sent back.

Yeah. Fine. Everything was just fine.