The Foster Kid (Part 4) (A Foster The People Fan Fiction)

It's What It Means Behind It

I’ve been lying in bed for three hours, staring at the ceiling. I hate being jetlag. I’ve been tossing and turning, having one of those sleepless nights. I gave up the attempt to fall asleep and moved on to watching television. It’s a good strategy in falling asleep; watch some crappy show so you get bored to sleep. I was still feeling empty, to be honest. I don’t really know why, it’s just a feeling. Maybe the idea of Andy moving on into something new still gets me. I had to let him go, whether I like it or not.

 Then I started to think about the cycle of my life, how it goes from a bad year to a good one and will start all over again. Good things has happened these past two years, so I should probably brace myself in getting another kick in the shins again. The cycle of life will never stop turning, unless you’re dead. It depends on people, how long does it take for them to discover how their life works. Some are meant to be undiscovered but for some reason or no reason at all, I was able to find how my life just goes around in circles.

My life is made up of both bad things and good things. Thankfully, they never come at the same time. Six years ago, I made friends with the people who I never thought I would ever meet. Good. Then we were disconnected and parted. Bad. Four years later, we got reunited and got the reaction I never expected. Good. Andy’s operation and the accident. Bad. Andy’s engagement and their big gig. Good. I guess my life is like the rocky and bumpy roads of a mountain. It goes up and down, but you’ll never know how steep it can get.

My alert eyes noticed something suspicious in my wallet, lying on top of the drawer. It’s weird, but I had this feeling that someone has put in something right under my nose. It sounds stupid, but I’m just paranoid. So I dragged myself towards my wallet and opened every pocket in that thing. After checking about ten thousand times, I found something that I’ve never seen my whole life. It’s a picture the size of a Polaroid. My brain just couldn’t picture the scene; I was too young to remember. But I knew who slipped it in, Andy. It was a picture of dad with Andy on his back and me snuggled on his chest.

I immediately called Andy. I needed some explanation. He has his ways in trying to tell me something, and I know that this has a meaning behind it. He immediately answered at the second ring, “You’re jetlag, aren’t you?”

“Why did you slip the picture in?”

“That took a while.” He chuckled,

“Andy, why?”

“Look at the back.”

I flipped the back and found a note, “How old was I?”

“You barely turned one.” He chuckled, “Read the note for me.”

“Do it for them.” I read aloud, “What does he mean by that?”

“He lost his job that day, and I found out before mom did.” He paused, “He came home in the middle of the night and went in your room. I woke up by his voice and I went to your room.”

“What happened next?” I felt a lump in my throat,

“He just sat there and you were asleep on his lap. I saw his face and he looked really messed up. He then saw me and said ‘I messed up.’ I didn’t really understood what he meant. I just climbed on his back and then he said, ‘I’m sorry I let you guys down.’ And I was like, ‘what’s wrong?’ and he told me that he lost his job and he was really freaked out.”

“Was he crying?” Not really sure why I asked him that,

“Yes.” He reluctantly said, “Then I had to talk to him.”

I chuckled, “What did you say?”

“You and I are the most grateful kids to have a dad like him.”

I smiled, “I’d say that too.”

“I think mom took the picture. She thought it was just some moment, she never found out that dad cried.” He sighed, “He gave that to me when he talked about the man of the family thing. He said, ‘this is what it means.’ And I understood immediately.”

“You saw him cry?”

“Yup. I’m glad you didn’t, it really hurts to see him like that.”

“Why’d you give the picture to me? I thought that it was meant for you.”

“I want you to remember him.” He sniffed, “I want you to know all the things he’s done for us and all the things he said to us. I think that picture explains almost everything.”

“Why didn’t you keep it?”

“I’m giving it to you. Besides, I can’t stand that day.”

“I get it.”

There was a long pause, “What time is it there?”

“Four thirty in the morning.”

“Just try to sleep, okay?”

“I’ll try.”

“Don’t get sick again.”

“I won’t.”

“Take care.” He said before he hung up. I studied the picture and discovered every little detail of what Andy told me. Dad’s face was a mess and his eyes were puffy, but he still managed to crack a goofy grin. I guess I understood what dad told Andy, and why he gave this to him.