How I
wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl,
year after year,
running over the same old ground.
What
have we found?
The same old fears,
wish you were here.
Chapter 6
“Dad, come on,” Gus said, kicking my leg and frowning down at me.
“What is it, sonnyboy?”
He looked frustrated. “I thought we were going to a movie.”
“I fucking hate theaters,” I replied, and turned my head to reach for the bottle of Beam. My glass was empty already. Hadn’t I just filled it?
“You do not! You said you used to go to movies all the time with Uncle Mikey!” Now he was getting pissed.
“We’d sit in the balcony and get stoned,” I said, and chuckled. Good times, good times.
“Damnit, dad,” Gus grumbled. He walked over to the stereo and turned the volume down.
“Hey!” I tried to sit up, but that made my head spin, so I laid back down on the fluffy white carpet and glared at him from there. “Don’t touch my fucking stereo. It cost more than your tuition to that fucking preppie high school.”
Gus winced. Shit. He was actually hurt. Sometimes I forgot that he was my kid, or a kid at all, and I treated him like I would any of my friends. Usually that ‘sometimes’ was when I was drunk or stoned. Right now I was probably both. He turned the music back up, but not as loud as it had been.
“Who the fuck blasts Pink Floyd, anyway?” he mumbled, giving me a look like I was pathetic.
“Go visit your Uncle Mikey,” I said, rolling onto my stomach.
“You always send me there when you’re depressed. And you always drink liquor and smoke weed and listen to old music until you’re passed out on the floor.” He crouched down next to me and shook his head. “Mom’s right. You do need to see a therapist.”
“Fuck. You.” I glared at him, lifting my head off the carpet just a bit.
He arched an eyebrow at me. “What, pissed that I’m right?”
“Pink Floyd isn’t old,” I grumbled, setting my head back down. Little bastard thought he knew everything.
Gus let out a noise of complete frustration and disgust. I was used to hearing sounds like that from people, so I just ignored it. “Dad-“ he began, and I braced myself for more lecturing when the phone rang. We stared at each other for a moment before he sighed heavily and got up to answer it.
I reached into the baggie on the floor next to me and lit another joint. I kept them rolled ahead of time, in case of emergency. And oh, this was an emergency if there ever was one. I inhaled deeply, feeling that comforting burning sensation briefly in my lungs, before I exhaled and took a gulp from the glass in front of me. Thank the fucking gods for drugs and alcohol. I hadn’t been this fucked up in years, and it was comforting and familiar. Sure, I’d had drinks, I’d gotten stoned, but not like this. Of course, today there was good reason for it.
“Hey,” Gus said into the phone. I turned my head away from him and tried to concentrate on the music instead of the frustration in his voice.
“No, I’m fine. … Yeah. …Yeah, he’s here. … Well, he’s listening to Wish You Were Here.” Gus paused and laughed bitterly. “Yeah, I hate this fucking album, too.”
I narrowed my eyes and frowned. How the hell could my prodigy have such bad taste in music? Maybe he wasn’t mine, after all. Maybe there was a mix-up at the fertility clinic, and my jizz got left in a freezer somewhere, and Gus was some other poor jerk’s kid. I considered taking the phone from him and telling Lindsay that myself (because it was obviously her), but that would mean getting up.
“Well, I don’t know what to do. He won’t listen to me. … I know, but… yeah. Yeah, right. … No, don’t tell him. … Well, it’s none of his fucking business! … Yeah, I figured that much out. …So what if I told him off?! He deserved it!”
Lindsay had already heard about his little outburst at the diner? Word does travel fast. Mikey must have called her the minute he got home. Well, I hoped she ripped him a new one. I knew I was in trouble, but Gus should be, too. It was none of his goddamn business who Justin was, and he had to go stick his nose in, and… fuck. I took another swig of Beam and inhaled more of the joint.
“He’s my father, of course it’s my business!”
Good. Yell at your mother. Then maybe she’ll forget to yell at me ‘cause she’ll be too pissed at you.
“Fine. You talk to him.”
Suddenly the phone was shoved in my face. I squinted at it, wondering what exactly I was supposed to do with it, before I realized I was supposed to take it. “No, thanks,” I mumbled.
“He wants to talk to you,” Gus said, and dropped the phone in front of me.
He? I picked up the receiver and rolled onto my back again, holding the phone to my ear. “Either Lindsay grew a cock, or it’s someone else’s turn to nag me,” I said. My voice sounded funny from the weed, and I chuckled.
“Oh, Brian,” Ben’s voice came from the receiver. “Pink Floyd again?”
I frowned. “What the fuck is everyone’s problem with Pink Floyd?”
“Nothing. Except we all know it’s what you listen to when you’re moping,” Ben replied.
Asshole. “Fuck you,” I said. “What the fuck do you want? I thought no one in the Novotny-Bruckner clan was supposed to speak to me.”
Ben sighed and I could hear the concern in his voice. Bastard. “Well, I’m breaking the rules a little.”
I laughed before inhaling more of the joint in my hand. “Right,” I choked out. “Mikey’s gonna love that.”
“Look, Brian-“
“Know what, professor? I don’t need a lecture right now. So I boned your little wife, get over it. He wasn’t that great, anyway.”
Ben’s voice grew tense, but he stayed calm. I was impressed. “Michael and I discussed that. It was a mistake. I know you were both in a bad situation, and… these things happen. We’ve worked it out. Now it’s between you and him to work out your friendship.”
“What, you actually want me in his life, still? You must be stupider than I thought.” I reached for the Jim Beam, but Gus picked it up and held it out of my reach. I glared daggers at him.
“Fuck you, Brian. You don’t know how much you fucking hurt him with what you did.”
“What I did?” I asked, shutting my eyes. I knew. I knew I’d fucked up. I didn’t need this right now.
Ben paused before continuing. “This isn’t why I called. That’s between you and him. Michael and I are fine. Your friendship is your problem, not mine.”
“That’s awfully admirable of you, professor,” I said, holding my hand out for the bottle and giving Gus as threatening of a look as I could muster. He handed it back, but with a look of disappointment and disgust on his face.
Good.
“I’m calling because… well, we’re worried about you, and Michael didn’t think it was a good idea for him to be the one to do it.”
I took a gulp from the bottle. Fuck using a glass. I was going to drink it all, anyway. “Oh,” I said. He was wrong. If Michael called and asked me to stop drinking… well, I’d still drink, but less. “Why the fuck would anyone worry about me? I’m dandy.”
“You’re drunk and stoned,” Ben said. “And you’re listening to Pink Floyd. Basically, you’re completely fucked up.”
“I’ll drink to that,” I said, chuckling.
“Damnit, Brian, at least don’t do this in front of Gus. It’s really not good-“
“That’s why I told him to go stay with the happy homemakers,” I said. I didn’t need to hear this, either.
Ben sighed again. “Fine. Tell him to come over. But Brian-“
“Yes, professor? Some further insight and wisdom for me?” My voice was hard now. I was fucking sick of this bullshit.
“This isn’t going to make you feel better,” he said.
“Well, when you find something that will, you let me know. Until then, I’ll stick with the classics.” I grinned bitterly and shoved the phone back at Gus, who was staring at me and looking so upset that I couldn’t stand to look at him. I rolled onto my side, facing away from him.
“H-hey,” he said into the phone. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess. … You think he’ll be okay? … Yeah. I know. … Okay. I’ll be there soon.”
I heard the phone being hung up, and Gus gathered some of his things before walking to the door. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he said. “I’m coming back in the morning.”
“Sonnyboy,” I began to say. I didn’t know what to tell him when I was sober, so I really had no idea what to say now. After all, I don’t apologize. Okay, maybe once in a great while, but not right now. If I did that, I’d completely fucking shatter.
“Yeah,” he said. “I know. It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”
Shit, that made me feel even worse. I tried to think of something else to say, but I heard the door to the loft slide open and shut again, and he was gone.
After a minute, I got up and walked over to the stereo to turn it back up and start the CD over, and then went to the small safe I kept in the bedroom. I dialed the combination lock and the door popped open. I shuffled aside some papers and pulled out a small black box and shut the safe again before going back to the living room and lying on the couch, bottle of Beam within reach.
Gus was going to Michael and Ben’s place. They’d always been good surrogate fathers to him, so they’d make up for the damage I’d done.
Justin was there, too. I imagined how that would go. Gus might queen out at first, but he and Justin would get along after he got over his teenage shit-fit. Sunshine would be there, with the rest of my fucked up little… what did they like to call it? Family? They’d all sit down together and have a dinner that Ben lovingly cooked, and Michael and Gus would talk about comics and laugh, and Justin would be there, sitting at their table, talking to them, smiling…
I took another gulp of Beam before opening the box in my hand, revealing two rings. I really should put them back, in case I passed out here, and Gus found them in the morning. I didn’t want to explain why I’d gotten them in the first place, let alone why I’d kept them. I really should put them back. But I passed out before I could make myself.
***
Song: Wish You Were Here – Pink Floyd