Save Me From Me (2 page)

I don’t know if Mom is flat out stupid and doesn’t see that they’re doped up, or if she just turns a blind eye because she’s afraid to confront the truth. Does she think that hiding the reality of the situation makes it okay? Maybe overlooking an existing problem that needs tending is much easier than her dealing with the repercussion of bringing it up. I hate how they use her, and how she just lets them.

I try telling her to kick their asses out and she just says, “Now, Dani, they have nowhere to go. Just like you.” Rub that salt in a little deeper. Just like I need another damn reminder of how my life has gone to shit. But damn, it’s not as if I’m trying to suck the life out of my mom by using her. After seeing the way they run all over her, I realize that I’m the only one who truly has her back. I wasn’t there for my dad when he needed me most. Not that he would have admitted he needed me, but maybe if I hadn’t run off, I could have been around more to make sure he kept his health in check. Maybe he would have made some appointments to get the slight chest pains he was having checked out. But no, I wasn’t around as much as I should have been, and all his damn ‘friends’ just played it off as stress or muscle spasms. Isn’t your heart a muscle? Yah, that’s what I thought.

So, here I am now, living with my mom, back in my old room taking a vow to never drop the ball with her as I feel I did with my dad. I’ve accepted the fate that I’m destined to live out — my life in this shitty town. I got to live a good ten years away from here, and like a vacuum, it sucked me back in. I don’t even think about the what if’s anymore. All they do is set you up for failure. They have you always wanting and wishing for more out of life. If you always want more, you can never be content with what you have. I gave up the good life when my father lost his. This is what my life is now. I’d like to say that I’m just temporarily putting my desires on the back burner until I get my life together or until I know for a fact that my mom will be fine without me around, but that’s not true. Hell, she’s been fine the whole time I’ve been gone and even when I had my breakdown after Dad died. Now that I’m getting a firsthand look at the crap she deals with on a daily basis, I’ll be damned if I leave her to deal with it alone.

She won’t speak her mind, so I’ll do it for her even if it means countless fights with my dope-whore of a sister. The sister who runs off for days at a time, leaving us to take care of her kids. I’ve been so close to calling the Department of Human Services on her, but every time I want to, my mom begs me not to. Why the hell does she care what happens to her? The woman needs to go to jail before I end up going myself for beating some sense into her. We literally fight at least once a week. She’s losing her touch I have to say. I’m sure it’s the drugs. All they’re good for is making her run her mouth faster than normal, but her reflexes are sloppy these days.

Tonight is already shaping up to be a typical night at the house with my sister shouting at our mom. I can tell it’s not going to end well. She doesn’t know how to watch her damn mouth. It’s called respect. There is a song about it.

She keeps yelling, “Why the hell won’t you let me borrow your damn car? I need to go to the store. It’s not like you need it,” to our mother at the top of her lungs.

“You better watch how you talk to Mom, Brandy. I’m only gonna warn your ass once.”

She walks up to me, acting like she’s going to bow up to me. “Oh yah, Dani? Whatcha gonna do to me, Lil Sis?” She laughs like she thinks I’m not going to keep my word. When she is like this, the only way to shut her up is to put her in her place, and the only way to put her in her place is with my fist.

I sigh. “Do you really want to find out? It always ends the same with you bloody on the floor crying. Is that the look you’re going for tonight?” I turn to walk away, hoping I have made my point. Apparently, I didn’t because the trick actually pulls me back by my ponytail. When the hell did she become a coward? Oh wait, it’s nothing new. I can’t help but fall to the ground with the sudden yanking of my hair. She is instantly hovering over me, yelling, and trying to punch through my arms protecting my face.

“Who the hell is on the ground now, Bitch? It’s not a good look on you either. I don’t know who the fuck you think you are just showing back up here out of the blue, thinking you can take over. We’ve been handling shit just fine without your ‘
too good
for us’ ass here.”

That is all the motivation I need. If she were smart, she would sit down on me, but since she isn’t, I have just enough room to hike my leg back between us. With all my might, I kick my evil sister. I can’t help the laugh that escapes my bloody lip as I watch her sail across the living room. “Ha! You didn’t expect that, did you? Don’t you dare lay a finger on me again. Same goes for the way you talk to Mom. You will treat her with nothing but respect. You know how easy it’d be for me to call up DHS on you? I have that shit on speed dial for special occasions such as this.”

She grabs her wrist and whines at me, “You broke my damn wrist. I’m calling the cops.”

I laugh as I come out of the bathroom from cleaning my bloodied lip. I grab my purse and keys sitting on the ground next to the couch. “Okay, well, good luck with that. Go ahead and let them know that you’re coming down from your high, and we got into a fight because you didn’t have a ride to go get your next fix. I’m sure they’ll love to hear all about it.” I walk into the kitchen where Mom is making herself a fresh pot of coffee. She does this at night because, being a mother to a bunch of heathens, she likes to make sure she’s up and around if any of them need her in the late hours. With her back to me, she just stands there watching the coffee drip into the pot. It smells so good that I debate having a cup with her, but I know I need to get away from this house, from my siblings.

“Mom,” I say as I reach for her shoulder. She jumps. Great, I scared my mom. “Sorry about that. I hate how she treats you. I hate how they both treat you. I can’t just sit around and say nothing.”

She turns around fully to face me, grabbing both of my shoulders. “I know, Dani Jo, but you can’t protect me. I understand that losing your dad has made you feel like you have to protect your loved ones, but, no matter how hard you try, things happen that you have no control over. I just want you to be happy and get your life back, Hunny.” She raises up to kiss me since I’m a good four inches taller than she is.

“I’m gonna go stay the night with Tyler.” I give her a weak smile and she just nods. I pay no mind to my crazy sister yelling at me on my way out the door. If I let her get to me, I’ll end up finishing what she started, and might really end up in jail. Sometimes it’s better to just shut people off even when it’s so damn hard. I jump into my truck that my dad left me and crank the engine. It’s loud and rumbles to life beneath me. My dad had a lift kit installed, knowing that I have always wanted a jacked-up truck. I feel so delicate in it; the way I sit so high above everyone else is a feeling that I love.

I pull out my phone and call Tyler. Unlike my other two siblings, he’s the responsible one. Hell, unlike me as well. Tyler is my go-to man whenever I’m down. The only man I can count on now that our dad died. Anytime I need him, he’s by my side, no questions asked… and tonight I’m desperate for his company.

“Dannnnnniiiii Jo.” He drags out my name. “What’s happening, Sister?” I hear loud music in the background and have a pretty good clue where he is.

“Depending on if you’re back home, I’m heading your way.” He’s got a really good job these days working out of state. I miss having him closer, but unlike me, the way he deals with things is by getting away. And since he lives in our dad’s old house, it’s easier for him to travel around. Everyone deals with pain differently. I’m still trying to figure out the best way for me.

“Yeah, I’m home. Go ahead and meet us at the bar.”

“Be there in forty-five.” I put my truck in drive and head for tonight’s distraction from reality.

All I’ve ever wanted is a break. A fucking break from life and all the mundane bullshit it entails. I’d like to say that I’ve been living life for me the last ten years, but I’m the only one who knows that’s the furthest thing from the truth. Maybe I was until my cousin ended up with my best friend whom I was secretly in love with. This was the cousin who pushed me away after graduation because he obviously felt I was a threat. Call it what you will, but that’s when I started pushing my wants to a place of inexistence. What I wanted didn’t matter anymore. Did I want to join the Navy soon after graduation? Was that ever a life goal or plan I had? No flipping way. I was strongly encouraged to book it out of town, and I gladly did just that. I wasn’t too sure how my heart would handle constantly being around the joyful couple’s happiness. I had doubts that my cousin would be good enough for her. I thought no one would be good enough for her. Except me that is.

Ten years ago, I scrammed and got lost just like I was told, and two years ago, I returned. I came back knowing that my cousin wasn’t around to keep me from the one woman I had loved. It was pretty wrong on my part to think I could come swooping back in after he died and pick up where Jesika and I left off and tell her my feelings, but she had already moved on anyway.
Lucky bastard
. But honestly I couldn’t be happier with her choice, because through everything, she will always be one of my closest friends. I want what’s best for her, even if it isn’t me. But whatever, I’m done living in the past. I’d like to say I’m living for me now, but that’s not the full truth either.

Working for my dad has never been a dream of mine. It was a dream of his and here I am, like a genie finally granted him his wish. Yeah, the money’s good, and the work is hard, but it’s not me. An oilfield worker/pipeliner, or whatever job title I have for the day, is not what I want for the rest of my life, even if it’s what my dad wants to leave to me one day. No, this is temporary. This is what I do for now until I find something else, until something comes to me that I can’t shake. When that day comes, I’ll be screaming Hallelujah and hopefully booking it with the whole father/son relationship still fully intact.
Later, Pops.

So, here I am, driving my new buddy and me to our next destination, our new home for a while since we’re headed to a big job. He’s definitely not the best driving companion to have. He won’t stay up, and on top of that, he snores. I can’t even drown him out with the damn radio, and I sure as hell can’t get much thinking done with the croaking noises coming out of his mouth. It seriously sounds like he inhaled a frog, and it’s lodged in his throat. I pull into some dinky Motel 6 and throw the truck in park. It’s not as if the hotel options are grand in the towns we end up working in, but then again it’s not like our weekly per diem pays us enough to live like rock stars anyway.

I smack Rusty’s arm, startling him awake before I open my door to get out. “Wake up, you snorin’ bastard. You’re damn lucky I didn’t have a pillow or anything else to suffocate your ass with.”

“Quit trying to play tough, Holden. You like me too much to kill me.”

“More like I like freedom too much.” I tease.

“Ha! And you call this freedom?”

He’s got me there.

“Close enough. Plus, I don’t have to worry about dropping the soap with you around.” I joke.

“Damn straight about that brother. Your asshole is safe around me.” You see, my buddy here is a bit on the homophobic side. I don’t know why, and I don’t really care to know. It’s not like guys hit on him. Hell, I’m better looking than he is and guys don’t hit on me either. The truth is that gay guys aren’t just going to walk up to you and try to get you naked. Sometimes, small town mentalities make people think all crazy — damn Bible-belters. But just like I don’t judge gays, I’m not judging my new buddy. It’s better to just be easy going. I’m not one to run toward conflict; in fact, I usually try to re-direct it elsewhere. It’s not because I’m a pussy and can’t deal. It’s just because I’ve always tried to be the peacemaker, which is mostly why I’m even here today.

We make our way to the room, and I throw my bag on the floor before falling back onto my bed. It’s stiff as a three-day-old carcass. What I’d give for a soft, damn bed and a non-scratchy blanket. I swear these things feel like a mix between wool and a Brillo pad.

“You’d think these places could at least afford mattresses that don’t feel like they are filled with cinder blocks, and blankets that won’t exfoliate you while you sleep.”

“What I wonder is how do you even know what exfoliate is?” Rusty laughs. “I mean, I have three sisters and had no choice but to learn about all the foo-foo shit they do, but you? You’re an only child, right?” he asks.

“Dude, you don’t have to be a chick to know about stuff chicks do. I’m sure plenty of guys actually do exfoliate.”

“Yeah and I’m sure they tan and get pedicures, as well, while totally defiling their man card.”

“There are plenty of straight guys that care that much about their appearances too. You know?”

“Yeah, I’m starting to think you’re one of those guys.” He teases as he throws his pillow at me.