SIX

“I  want  to  tell you  something.” Steph heard  Tim say.  “It’s about  Anthony, my twin.”

“Uh, you don’t have to tell me, you know. I totally understand.” She  said uncom-fortably. “It’s your birthday. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“I want to explain it to you.” He said, standing up.

She sat up and looked up at him.

“I want to explain because even though I know that  you know about my situation, I want  you to know  why exactly I’m  acting this  way.” He took a deep breath and turned away for a while. “It was March, and Anthony said he wanted to stay out late  in the night to party with some friends. I backed him up on the story, but  we both knew  what he was really  planning to do. He  and a bunch of his friends  had gotten into a  fight with another group,  and it was  arranged that  both groups  would meet that night. I didn’t want him to go, he knew that. That’s  why he told  me not to go  with him. When  they got there, what started  out as  a gang  fight,  ended in  with gunshots.”  He stopped,  and walked towards Steph and sat down beside her. “I… I knew I should have  helped. I could have…  I could have…”

He stopped,  and Steph searched  again for something  to say. “I know whatever is going on  in your  head is your  business. And  your story  is only  something you can tell. But I knew that something was wrong, and I know why you are acting  that way. I  accept whatever you are, because even I have something about me that takes  guts to tell. I knew it was because of that, that you pushed my hand away.”

They were  both quiet,  then Steph suddenly  shifted and got  the basket.  She took out a chocolate cupcake and a  single candle. She pierced  the candle in the  middle of the cupcake lit it with a lighter. She set it on her hand and put it in front of his face.

He smiled. “What’s this?”

She smiled too. “Make a wish.”

He rolled  his eyes, but still  closed them and paused  for a while. He opened them and blew the flame off.

A cold draft blew in, and they both shivered.

“I should be getting home.” She said, cleaning up.

“I’ll bring you.” He said, standing up and holding out his hand to her.

She took it, and he pulled her up.  They both  walked  out the door. It  took them a few minutes  for them to arrive at her house. When they did, they saw her father tinkering with  the car in  the garage.  They both  walked towards  him, and  they heard him angrily mumbling under the hood of the car.

“What’s wrong, dad?” Steph asked.

“Damn rats chewed the battery wire.” He grumbled.

Steph  gave Tim  a knowing  smile, and  he gave her  a  smug one.  But  her  smile slowly  vanished. Would  their plan  work? Would  it really  prevent her father’s… death? Tim could see what was in her eyes, and held her reassuringly by the shoulder.

“It’ll take weeks for this to repair.” Her father said.

Steph faced her father, and Tim dropped his hand.

“Well,” she said. “You can walk instead of driving. It’ll really help you. That beer belly doesn’t look attractive.”

Her father chuckled and held his belly, jiggling it a bit. “I’ll be doing the ladies a favor, huh?”

Steph smiled. “A huge one.”

“Well I guess you’re right. I’ve been getting  out of shape lately.”  His hands were still on his  stomach, and  he looked  down and  raised his  eyebrow,  like he  had just first realized  how big  it was.  “Well, I  guess you’re  right. Wouldn’t  want to  disappoint  the ladies.”

“Let’s go inside dad.” Steph said.

They all went in, and Timothy felt his pocket  vibrate. He  took out his  phone and saw his mother’s phone number on the screen, he answered it gingerly. “Hello?”

“Timmy.”  He  heard  his  mother  say  on  the  other  end. “Come  home.  You’re cousins and friends are here, they want to see you.”

“Aw, mom.” He said in a whiny voice. “What the hell are they doing there?”

“Well, it’s your birthday Timmy, you have to come home.” She said firmly.

He sighed. “Be there in five.” Then without a goodbye, he snapped his phone shut. “I have to go.” He told Steph. “We have visitors at home.”

Steph noticed the annoyed and sad tone of his voice and put her hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be fine.” She reassured him.

He  snorted and  gently put  her hand  down.  “Sure.” He  sarcastically  said.  He headed  for the  door and  stepped out.  He paused  before  closing the  door. “Take care.”

Steph knew his statement wasn’t just for  her. It  was also  for her  father.  He was telling her  to take  care  of him,  and also  to be  cautious.  But as  he closed  the door and disappeared,  she  realized  it was  also for  himself.  He was  reassuring himself that if he took care of  himself,  he wouldn’t  depend  on anyone  else, and  would  never get hurt in case of a  betrayal. He  was still  convinced, still determined, to have no attachments with anybody, not even with her. It doesn’t bother me. She told herself. After all, he is leaving, someday. And  I might not  see him  again. So,  maybe  it’s better  this way. But she knew that  deep down,  in a forgotten  corner of  her mind,  where  everything  was hidden,  she knew  that she was just fooling herself, because he was the one person she could relate to, and he had to be the one person who wanted to be with no one. It hurt maybe, just a bit.

 

Timothy  stepped into  the house  and was  instantly  greeted by a loud greeting of happy birthday. There were ore people than he expected. He saw his cousins and  friends, but  he  also  saw  some  of  his  parent’s friends  and  clients. The  house was  completely decorated. There were red ribbons strung on the staircase and the chandelier. There was a long buffet table covered in a white table cloth. There were about a  dozen tables  covered with red  cloths, and white  cushioned chairs  surrounded them.  He walked in towards his parents  and was  greeted repeatedly;  a pat on  the back here and there, some even ruffled his hair.

“There’s my birthday boy.” His father said proudly.

“Surprised?” his mother said.

“Yeah.” He mumbled. This isn’t right. He thought. Anthony should be here.

He felt someone tap his  shoulder. His  parents suddenly  rushed away.  He turned around and saw Anthony’s girlfriend standing three feet away.

“Hey, Tim.” She said shyly.

“Hi Hazel.” He said.

She blushed. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

She leaned closer and whispered in his ear. “You know, I’ve always noticed you.” She then stepped back.

He stared at her bewilderedly. “What?”

“You remind me so much of your brother.” She stared at him.

Her words  stung, and  he realized  that she was saying she liked him, just because he looked like Anthony. “You’re sick.” He said angrily. “How could you even say that about my brother?”

“I didn’t mean to�"�"”

He  cut  her  off,  hearing  enough  of  what  she  had to say.  “Whatever.”  He said curtly. “Just stay away from me.”

He stepped back and sharply turned around. He headed to the buffet table, head-ing straight to  the table full  of drinks. There were  different kinds of  punch on one  side, and on  the other,  were  glasses  filled  with red  and white  wine and  champagne  for the adults.  He  grabbed a  glass of  champagne  and drank  it straight,  his only  regret,  that it wasn’t  strong  enough  to knock  him dead  drunk so  he could avoid the whole party. He gulped  down another one and turned to look at the crowd. There were about fifty people, not  including  the caterers,  grown ups  dominating the teenagers. He spotted some of his former schoolmates huddled together, then one of his friends approach.

“Nice party you got.” He said.

“Thanks,  James. I  didn’t plan  it though.”  He said. “How did  you guys get  here anyway?” His old town was miles from where he was now.

“Your parents called Hazel’s parents, and they drove us all here.”

“Oh, Hazel.” He said, spitting out the name acidly.

“Look, man.” James started slowly. “I’m sorry about… you know… Anthony.”

Tim  nodded and  James walked  away. After  that, everybody came to him one by one, the  subject about  Anthony  always coming  up. The wave of depression came again and again, and each time it became  harder and harder  for him to resist  the blows.  Soon, he  gave up  trying to  pretend and decided to walk around the room. He heard snippets of different  kinds of  conversations,  and since  most of the crowd were grown ups, he heard them  talk about  business.  He saw  his parents  on  one  side  of  the  room,  talking  with Hazel’s parents.  He saw  his friends,  relatives,  most of  the people  he didn’t  know. His mind  drifted  back to  the conversations  he had  minutes ago, sentences, phrases, coming back to haunt him, like rubbing in a fresh wound.

The last time I saw you was at Anthony’s funeral… how are you coping with it... you remind me so much about your brother… I heard about what happened… I’m sorry about Anthony…

His eyes  roamed around  the room,  the phrases  echoing  repeatedly  in his mind. Then  his  eyes  landed on  someone,  someone  who was  talking with  Hazel.  His  heart started  beating fast,  and adrenaline  started to  run all over his body. His hands started to shake with rage.

“You!” he shouted.

The  whole  room  quieted,  everyone’s  eyes  on  him. He  pointed  a  finger  and approached the boy in fast strides, his breathing uneven. “What,” he said in a raged voice. “Are you doing here?”

It was Rob: the person,  Anthony’s former friend,  who disconnected their friend-ship, so he could hang out with  the “cool” people.  He was there  during the gang fight; it was he who had the gun, he who pulled the trigger, he who ran away. It was him who was proven to have held the gun and went to jail for it.

“What the hell is he doing here?” he shouted to the whole room, his voice echoing against the cold walls.

Rob  was  silent, and  so  was everybody  else. There  really was  a thing  called  a deafening silence.  It throbbed  in Tim’s ears and he could hear his heart racing. It was his mother who finally had enough courage to speak up.

“He was pardoned�"�"”

“Pardoned?”  He said  bewilderedly.  “Well, you can pardon him. But I never will. How?” he choked back his sobs. “How could you bring him here?”

“His behavior in jail was good, so he was pardoned.” His father said.

“His behavior is why Anthony’s not here.”

He ran  up the stairs  and slammed  his room door  and locked  it. His  heart  was acting up again, and he swallowed one of his pills.

“What’s wrong Timmy?” a voice said.

Tim  turned  around  and saw  his brother  standing a few  feet away.  Tim  slowly reached out to touch him, his hand trembling. Anthony did the same. And in a blink of an eye, he was gone. Tim’s knees  gave in and he fell down on his knees. He curled in a ball, his  forehead  touching the  wooden floor.  He put his  arms around  his head to  cover his ears,  his hands  clutching  too tightly  at his hair.  Get out of my head. He tried to shout in his mind. Tears were  running down  his cheeks,  but outside the  door, no one  could hear his sobs, and in return, he couldn’t hear their pleas to come inside.

 

Timothy  checked  the clock  on the wall.  It was  late, so  he decided  to head out. Where was Anthony? Their agreement was when he was finished with the fight he would sneak back home, and in the morning sneak back out.  It  was dark,  and there  seemed  to be  nothing  but  endless  blackness  all  around  him.  He wasn’t  moving, but the  ground seemed to be moving and though his feet were flat on the ground, something  was pulling him towards a yellow light. Suddenly, everything stopped, and he saw  that he was  in the park. He saw three bodies on the ground. One of them,  he discovered,  was Anthony.  He ran to his brother. Blood was seeping through  the hole in his  sweater. His  brother’s face was pale, and his eyes were blank, staring at the night sky. Blood was dribbling out of his mouth and down his chin. Tim’s heart was beating fast,  his breathing  turned in  to gasps. And then the screaming began.

 

Tim screamed.  He was still  on the floor,  and it was  morning  outside.  His body was  covered  in sweat  and his head was throbbing. He looked at the clock on the table. It was nine o’clock.  His parents  were at work,  and the house was empty, all except for the maids downstairs. It was too late to get up and head for school, not that he wanted to.

He  slowly  unlocked  and  opened  his  room  door,  and  tiptoed  to  the  balcony. Beneath  him, was  the party  mess which  was being cleaned up. Dropped napkins, fallen food bits, stained tablecloths. He quietly went back into his room and locked the door. He decided he wasn’t going to go out. Solitude, something he really needed right now.

 

Stephanie  wondered  why Timothy  wasn’t at school today. School was over, and she was heading over to his house. Maybe, she thought, something went wrong yesterday. When she arrived, she  knocked on the door  and explained to  the lady who answered the door  that she  was there  to visit  Tim.  She was  led upstairs, and then the maid hurriedly walked away. Steph tried to jiggle to door open.

“Go away.” She heard him mumble inside,

“It’s me, Steph.” She said.

There was silence, and then she heard footsteps inside.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice closer this time. He was probably standing behind the door.

“To check up on you.” She said.

“I didn’t ask for your help.” He snapped.

“I didn’t come to help. I came to see if you’re alright.”

“Well, you’re not my shrink.”

“You had a shrink?”

“Used to.”

“Why?”

“Trauma, shock, and nightmares.”

“Can I come in?”

There was a pause. “I want be alone right now.”

“Okay.” She whispered. “Bye.”

She slipped a piece of paper scribbled with their assignments under the door, then headed downstairs.

 

Tim  watched from the upstairs window as Steph headed back down the road. Her back was  towards him,  her hair was down, and  it was blowing in the wind, and  she was wearing  that ridiculous cap again. She hugging her books close to her chest, and her head was down.  He stepped away from the window. He saw his sculpture of his brother on the table, and  though  it was in  the dark  corner of  the room, he  knew it was  there, its cold, empty  eyes staring at him. He wanted so badly to snatch it from the table and smash it on the floor.  But he couldn’t.  He couldn’t  because he knew that even though it was the one thing  that  haunted  his nights  and  troubled  his  days,  it  was  the  only  sole  thing  that reminded  him of his brother and how different they were, and how close Anthony was to his heart. If only a  brotherly bond could break that easily. How his life would be easier if he could just forget. But he would rather suffer, than ever forget about his brother. That’s why he wanted  to go away,  disappear, to an  unfamiliar place where no one would know who he was and  where he  came from. He  planned to travel  frequently,  maybe stay in a town for about a month, and then leave again. He couldn’t stand staying anymore. Soon… he promised himself. Very soon.

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[clairvoyantmars]

tim's past is finally revealed, an enemy arrives, steph starts to show her subtle affection... what will happen next??