Suburbs

Suburbs

Written By: Abdel-Hamid Musleh

The morning was crisp, the dew on the blades of grass still lingered as droplets awaiting their fateful journey back into the earth. The dawn birthed a new day and the birds began to sing their love songs. The newly awakened sun made the sky a hazy purple that peeked through the morning clouds and window. Jeremy’s alarm clock screeched the din of the morning as it always did, but this specific day marked an occasion. His pasty white arm reached over to his smooth black alarm clock on the bedside drawer to cease the beeping. One year. One Whole Year. He turned over on his back, entangling himself in the bed sheets and comforter as he did so, only to stare at the dusty ceiling fan above him. He looked over at the time, 6:35am, it was time to wake up and see his parents.

By the time Jeremy awoke and got ready it was already 8:00am, the morning was almost over and a sense of urgency stirred him.

“Come on Danny, we’re going to be late.” Jeremy’s voice was young and whiney, it didn’t fit him, at fifteen years old and five eight his voice was to be deeper but for some reason the powers that be chose it to stay high pitched and loud.

“Jeremy its eight in the fuckin morning shut the fuck up already they can wait.” Danny was pouring a cup of orange juice as he said this. It was typical behavior regardless of what day it was and it always unsettled fragile Jeremy. Danny began drinking his juice as tears began to form in Jeremy’s light brown eyes, they both knew he was about to cry again.

“Come on Jeremy I didn’t mean that man, just take it easy we’ll get there, we still haven’t… and we didn’t even pick up flowers yet. Just..come on..It’s the morning.” Jeremy wiped at his eyes with the back of his suit sleeve. Danny was wearing a matching black suit with a black tie on a white shirt and matching black shoes. Both of them looked sharp and somber.

The car ride to the flower shop was quiet as they listened to the hum of the road and the sound of the wind. Every moment together on the road is a sensory barrage, absorbing the past year, the sun coming through the window, the perfectly manicured palm tree’s on the side of the road. Each of them lost in their own thoughts but the approaching shop broke them both out of their silent reverie.

“Jeremy, what’s the flower mom liked.”

“Danny why can you never remember…Lavender Lilacs, she used to always have them in the house.” As Danny stepped out of the car to go into the shop, Jeremy’s eyes wandered to the clear blue sky, feeling the sun on his face and choked back tears. When Danny came back to the car, he absentmindedly handed the squat vase with the lilacs to Jeremy and began to head to the cemetery where their parents were interred.

As they walked up side by side to the headstone that read Joshua and Bethany Greenstead, Jeremy placed the squat vase onto the ground in front of the headstone.

Danny cleared his throat a little and bowed his head as he silently prayed to himself “We miss you guys, especially Jeremy, he’s lost without you, help him be stronger Dad, Mom, look out for him but stop babying him.”

Jeremy followed his brother’s example and ducked his head down and prayed silently so that that his mother and father could hear him. “Dad, help Danny be stronger, he needs your help. Mom I miss you, I don’t know what to do anymore, I need help..and Danny misses you too if he didn’t say that..” As they finished their prayers Danny let out a sniff and Jeremy looked up to see if his older brother could actually cry. He hadn’t. He felt Danny’s hand on his shoulder, leading him back to the car while he kept in the tears that struggled to overflow. He wanted to be stronger for his Mother, Father and Older Brother.

As they pulled into their driveway at the end of the cul-de-sac Jeremy noticed the Black SUV in the driveway, the source of Danny’s income.

“Dan, why is he here today, I thought you said you weren’t doing any of that...today..” He looked towards Danny with tears brimming in his eyes again.

“I did Jeremy, somethin’ must be wrong, when we get inside go to your room.” As he said this Danny got out of the car and Jeremy followed. As they stepped towards the house a figure stepped out of the Black SUV to greet Danny. Jeremy tried like hell to not be noticed; he tucked his arms in, put his hands into his pockets and looked at the man’s legs and shoes. Dirty black and white Pumas, track pants that had slits on the bottom.

“Danny-boy there’s a problem.” The figure that spoke to Danny was about Danny’s six foot height, shaven bald head with tribal tattoo’s littering the man’s strong bare arms.

“Chuck I told you not to come today, Jeremy get inside.” Danny handed Jeremy the keys and Jeremy made a mad dash to the ugly yellow house that they called home.

“Look at that lil bitch run, scared of me ain’t he. And whats this shit about you tellin’ me anyway, you don’t tell me shit.” Chuck walked back to his SUV and pulled out two black duffle bags from the back.

“We’ve got some business to handle Danny-boy, now get the fuck in the house and let’s start this shit.” Chuck tossed one of the heavy black duffle bags to Danny. As Danny deftly caught it he smirked and led Chuck into the house, before he walked through the door Chuck looked over his shoulder and used his free hand to tuck a silver handgun that was sticking out the back of his pants under his shirt.

Jeremy heard the muffled voices of Chuck and Danny in the kitchen through the wooden door of his room. He undressed out of the suit he wore to the cemetery and put on a white t-shirt and shorts. He took a deep breath, put his forehead to the door then reached for the handle and walked out into the hallway. The hallway was the only one in the house, at one end the door to their parent’s room, the room Danny was sleeping in. He walked toward the other end of the hallway where the kitchen was, where he heard the voices, he walked past with his head down so he wouldn’t see anything. As he passed the kitchen Chuck stopped him with a sentence.

“Hey lil’ bitch what the fuck you doin out your room?” Chuck said with a sardonic smile, watching Jeremy’s listless expression change from shame to fear multiple times.

“I…I…I’m going to the garage…Danny I’m goin to the garage.” As Jeremy looked up he saw what was unfolding in the kitchen, the bricks of uncut cocaine Chuck brought in were being weighed, mixed with another white powder, cut up and measured into baggies. His eyes froze on the bricks of Cocaine on the floor and the bag of Cocaine at his feet.

“Fine Jeremy, just don’t touch my shit and the T.V. remote needs batteries and we don’t have any so I don’t wanna hear your bitchin.” As Danny said this Chuck noticed where Jeremy’s stare had froze.

“okay…” As Jeremy broke his glance from the cocaine on the floor Chuck stopped him again.

“Hey hey hey little man, whats goin on here, you eyein the product?” As Chuck said this he got up out of his chair and encircled Jeremy with an arm, looking down at the baggie on the floor, picking it up.

“You interested in this my man? You want some of this? Hey Danny I think your lil bitch here wants some of this.”

“Jeremy get the fuck to the garage already, Chuck lets finish this shit.” As Danny told him to go Jeremy broke away from Chuck’s encircled arm and heard Chuck laugh.

*

The light was dim, the concrete floor damp and hard, the air, humid and moist, suffocating even the most resilient of the rats. The air in the garage was muggy. The only fleeting source of respite was the dusty white ceiling fan which hung from an intersecting beam below the sunroof. Underneath it sat a dingy brown couch that Jeremy was infesting. The fan whooshed away at the muck, in vain. Jeremy used to stare at the sky through it for hours, watching the fan blades pass through the blue-gray sky, listening to the slow whoosh--whoosh sound they made as they hacked away, but that wasn’t the case that afternoon.

That afternoon Eric Clapton was next to Jeremy on an old wooden chair strumming out the melody and singing the lyrics to Cocaine. In front of Jeremy was a chipped glass table that leaned to the left because one of the legs fell off and a pile of books replaced it. On the lopsided glass table was a small rectangular canister, a picture, and some white powder in a pile. Jeremy’s breath was even as tears ran down his eyes. The picture on the table was Danny’s, the one he kept in his shoebox with his drugs and gun, Danny told him not to touch his stuff but he didn’t care he needed to see it. The picture was of him, his parents and his older brother in Puerto Rico, the best memories of his life.

Please. “Come back…” He wheezed as he leaned his soft mush of a body to the table, the tears fell off his face landing in drops on the table, which congealed into puddles, he tried to get his head to bend down to the table but his gut didn’t let him get that far. Cursing god his knees hit the hard concrete floor with a thump and a guttural grunt escaped his teenage vocal cords. His thick pasty fingers were slick with sweat, barely able to stop his hand from shaking as the razor swept the white powder into two lines. As he cut up, he repeated the lyrics he heard

“If you wanna get down, down on the ground; cocaine. Didn’t think he meant it literally…” his chuckle at his own joke was drowned with a quiet sob as more tears fell as he carefully tilted his head sideways, cutting the lines up. He cut it up one more time, clacking away at the powder with the razor. When he was done and the lines were cutup and fat, he sung the last chorus of the song

“Don't forget this fact, you can't get it back; cocaine. She don’t lie, She don’t lie, She don’t lie; Cocaine.” He blinked hard to get the tears out of his eyes then grabbed the piece of drinking straw he cut earlier, put it to his nose and quickly bent to the first line, he tried to do it quick but missed half of it, then moved his head to the second line and got it right this time. He lifted his head tilting it backwards, listening to the music and trying to feel it work its way to his brain. Then a bomb exploded in his head. Sheer burning pain clawed at his eyes, his throat, and his face. He started to scream at the top of his lungs, grabbing the warm water bottle that was crammed between the cushions; he poured it up his nose to try to force it out. He thought about how convenient it was that it was there, that this idiocy was about to be over. It was convenient the water bottle was there. Filled with his older brother’s vodka. A new world of pain had just entered through Jeremy’s nose, uncontrollable screaming and then crying ensued after the vodka was introduced to his nasal passages. At the moment of the most intolerable pain he had ever felt in this world, a bright light penetrated through the side-door that led into the garage. Fear intoned as a triangle in Jeremy’s thoughts. Fuck. Danny.

Danny saw the shoe box on the floor with his name on it, the lid open, his private stash in plain sight, the glass table, the white powder, the canister and the boombox on the wooden chair playing the familiar album over and over again. Danny’s eyes looked up and saw half of his younger brother’s body laying on the couch with his knees stuck underneath his significant weight.

Jeremy lifted his head and saw his older brother in the doorway, he brought his palms away from his face and lifted himself off the couch, losing his balance as his knees groaned in protest, sending him flying towards the bad end of the table. As the books gave way Jeremy was flung to the concrete floor, and the paraphernalia with him. Danny bolted towards his chubby pastel brother but his footing failed him as the table-books got caught between his feet, and now face to face, brother to brother the siblings stared at one another. Danny was the first to utter a syllable while Jeremy’s face was contorted in pain and tears were running freely.

“Jeremy what’re you doin man, what the hell are you doin man? I can’t deal with this right now man, I can’t deal with this right now.” Tears began forming in Danny’s eyes.

In a wheeze that was filled with pain Jeremy lifted the canister to show his brother and let it slip out of his hands as he squeezed the words out of his mouth “Help..me..water…”

Danny’s tears began to fall freely as his sweaty palms slipped on the rectangular canister and the white powder, covering his sweaty palms in the white dust. His second attempt was more successful as he got up and ran to the sink on the other side of the garage, wiping his tears and nose on the way. After suddenly realizing what he had just seen and what he had just wiped on his face he began to double time it when a minty burning sensation filled his nasal passages. He began coughing as he reached the sink.

“Fuckin idiot. This fuckin idiot.” He washed off his hands and face with luke warm water. His actions slowed as rage began to build. Slowly and deliberately he turned the warm water off, filling the bucket with all the frigidness of the glacier from which the water was spawned. When the bucket was full to the brim he began walking towards his brother careful not to spill a drop. Grim, Demure, Pissed, A quiet anger. He stood over his brother now on his back with his legs twisted awkwardly around the table, tears in his eyes, sitting up to receive the water his generous and kind brother had brought. Danny pushed the table away with his leg as he went to a knee beside his younger brother. Bucket on Right knee. Hand behind his head.

“Tilt your head back Jeremy.” His voice was calm and soothing. His mind was roiling. As his younger brother complied, Danny, on one knee to the left side of his chubby brother’s angled body, placed his left hand on the top of his brothers head, to keep it tilted. Then with the bucket on his knee and his right hand controlling it he let his wrath be felt in a smooth controlled flow over his younger brothers nose and mouth. As Jeremy began to sputter, Danny waited till the last minute to clutch his hair and yank his head back into place so he couldn’t get a breath of air in.

“Drown you altoid snuffing piece a shit! You scared the FUCK outta me Jeremy. YOU HEAR THAT! DROWN YOU FUCKER.” As the water in the bucket was spent, and the sputtering began to subside Danny stood up to his full six foot height and sent a swift kick to his brother’s ribs.

Danny spat as his rage came to a crescendo

“You fuckin’ asshole! What the FUCK are you doin? What the FUCK.”

He sent another kick to the writhing figure on the floor. He smoothed his dark wavy hair back as he stepped over the cringing figure on the floor, retrieved his boom box and began to storm out of the garage as Jeremy lifted his head and screamed.

“I’m drowning Danny! I’m drowning man!”

As Jeremy yelled this, Danny turned on his heel and walked back to his younger brother. As Jeremy watched his brother make the about face the only thought that came to his mind was illicit and crude. Oh fuck.

After he administered a moderate thrashing to his younger brother, Danny walked out the garage door and leaned against the outside wall, taking in the warm summer air with the sun shining on his face.

“Fuckin kid’s gonna be the end of me.” And with the deftness that spoke repetition he pulled out a long silver cylinder, screwed the top off put it to his nose and snuffed the substance deep into his body.

As he began walking back to the house he remembered the reason he went out there in the first place. He turned heel and headed back into the garage. He walked to his shoe box that remained on the floor and picked up his stash and his gun. He pulled the slide back, loading a round into the gun and checked the safety. He slid the gun into the front of his pants and pulled his shirt over it. He looked down to his pitiful younger brother and told him with a quietness that betrayed compassion in his voice “Jeremy, clean this up I’ll be back in a little bit.”

“Danny why’d…why d’you do this…why…” Jeremy looked at his brother, ribs hurting, nose running, his tears rolling down his chubby cheeks in a torrent, his world was pain and he knew it well and he just wanted to know “Why…Danny?”

“Because Jeremy, I’m twenty fuckin years old with barely a high school diploma, no college and Dad left us with a big fuckin mortgage and they left us with fuckin nothin’ not a god damn thing, nothing but fuckin’ problems, I need to feed us both and working at McDonalds doesn’t cover that shit.” After Danny finished spitting out his words with venom in each fuck his eyes brimmed with tears as he stared at his little brother, guilt began to choke him, but the job had to be at the only thing on his mind and he pushed the feelings away, far away.

“I meant why’d you beat me up Danny, you didn’t have to do that it was only Altoids I was just messing around…” Jeremy didn’t expect his brother to reveal his emotions like that and knew his response was childish and would anger Danny, but he didn’t know how to respond. Danny blinked and shook his head waving Jeremy off and wiping his tears away. Danny turned away from his brother and walked out of the garage into the bright daylight toward the house with the man with the other gun.