tongue tied - jake kiszka

28.

   He looked different.

   Even from far away.

   My feet felt heavy as I crunched through the green grass, making my way towards his looming figure. As I got closer I saw that his hair was shorter than ever and he'd grown out his beard. He noticed me approaching and turned to face me.

   He looked tired and a little older, but he was still Cam. I glanced back at the SUV, parked a little ways away where Jake had stayed. He'd offered to come with me but I'd shook my head, letting him know it was okay- that I'd be okay.

   "Who's your friend?" Cam asked, motioning with his head towards the direction I was looking. "That's Jake." I answered simply, walking closer to him until we were standing side by side.

   "That a new boyfriend?"

   "No."

   I looked down in front of us at the headstone that was supposed to be my dad. It had his name, but it wasn't him. The big box under the grass and the dirt wasn't him either.

   "This will never get easier." I murmured, feeling tears prick at my eyes. "I know he's in there, but that's not him, you know? This stupid piece of concrete and that stupid coffin- it's not dad."

   Cam stayed quiet and I wanted to scream. I hadn't seen him or talked to him in months and now here he was, looking so different- so much older. So much like dad.

   I wished my mom was here. But she never came the day of. She always came the day before, she said that she wanted to remember him the way he was that day instead. Making coffee before work, kissing her on his way out, coming back later that afternoon, wrapping her up in a hug the way he did every time he got home.

   She didn't want to remember the day of, the day she got the call. He'd died on impact. He wasn't coming home to give her a hug and he wasn't there the next morning to kiss her goodbye.

   Everyone got so distant after it happened. "These last four years I've never felt so alone." I said quietly and Cam turned to look at me then. "I'm sorry I haven't really been there for you." He spoke, his voice sounding gruff.

   He'd never been much of a conversationalist. "It's okay." I started to say, but it wasn't. "You just became so cold. You weren't nice, Cam. I know you were upset, but we all were too. That doesn't give you the right to act like I never existed."

   "You look so much like him." He blurted out suddenly.

   "You do too Cam." I exclaimed, "But I still tried to be there for you. You can't pretend like I'm not here just because it hurts. He's the one who's not here anymore- not me."

   "I know." He looked down at the headstone, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I'm sorry."

   I wasn't sure what to say back to him. I could tell him that it was okay, to just be there from now on, but it wasn't really up to me. We stared down at the spot that was supposed to be my dad and I wanted to cry all over again.

   We stayed like that for a few minutes, under the shade of the big tree we chose to bury him under. I liked to think he would've picked this spot for himself had he known, if he had more time to prepare.

   I knew some people did that. He'd never talked about it though. Never said whether he wanted to be buried or cremated. What he'd want us to put on his headstone when he died of old age.

   "I'm gonna head out." Cam said after a while, wrapping an arm hesitantly around my shoulders. "I'll call you tomorrow."

   It was a start.

   I told him goodbye, watching as he walked away towards the dark car that I assumed was his. It looked new. I felt like I didn't know anything about him anymore.

   Standing there by myself, I looked back down at the grass below the headstone. A few flowers had begun to grow, the small purple ones that looked like lanterns.

   I lowered myself slowly to the ground, sitting cross legged in the grass. I could hear a car door shut and I turned my head only to see Jake walking up towards me. He didn't say anything, but simply sat down next to me.

   "Hey." I said and I was surprised by how quiet my voice had come out. "Is it okay that I'm here?" He asked, sounding unsure. I nodded quickly.

   It was okay.

"That was your brother I'm assuming."

"Cam," I picked at the grass absentmindedly, "Yeah."

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Jake said, glancing over at me again. I wasn't sure if I wanted to. Cam was a lot to explain.

"I just miss my dad."

I looked at him as I said it, my fingers still wrapped around a few blades of grass. I'd been pulling at them like I was a little kid or something. Jake reached out for my hand, causing me to release the grass I was clutching.

He didn't try to hold my hand, only lifted it softly away from the ground. His fingers grazed across my skin as he pulled back.

"Do you want to tell me about him?"

No one had ever asked me that. I think some people considered it to be a touchy subject. But I hadn't talked about him in so long, I was almost afraid I'd forgotten how.

I nodded slowly. "Yeah."

We sat side by side, cross legged in the grass by my dad's grave, and I began to tell him all about the man he'd never get a chance to meet.
u
And he listened.