Try It Again
Seth stood in the doorway of Ryan’s Chino bedroom, taking in the scene before him. His head felt hot and heavy and his jaw slowly lowered in disbelief, leaving his mouth open slightly. He knew that in a few seconds he’d have to spring into action. In a few seconds he’d have to be the strong one, the pillar. In a few seconds, he hoped, he’d have the coordination to let go of the doorframe.
Ryan was lying awkwardly on the floor, obviously unconscious. The ultimate fear - he’s dead - passed through Seth’s mind only fleetingly. He could hear Ryan’s breathing, damp and strained, from clear across the room. Ryan was alive.
But he wasn’t moving.
The few days that Ryan had been in Seth’s life were amazing. Seth wasn’t afraid to admit that - to tell his parents that he was a miserable creature when left to his own devices. He knew it wasn’t right, the way the Newport crowd treated him. But he didn’t know how to change it…he just wanted to get out. When Ryan arrived everything changed.
Ryan was the missing piece, the balance to right the wrongs in Seth’s life. He provided snapshots of the opportunities that Seth should have been taking advantage of on his own. At the very least, Ryan was cool as shit. And Seth wanted him back.
When Ryan left, Seth’s parents told Seth that Ryan had to leave, that he had a family of his own. They’d tried to give Ryan a break but all that had ended up happening was the torching of his mom’s model home. And bruises on their son’s face. And his first hangover. In other words, Ryan clearly didn’t want a break. Besides…the situation had been temporary from the get-go.
None of that mattered to Seth. He knew where Ryan belonged. He knew his motives weren’t entirely selfish; Ryan’s family sucked. Seth’s family, while boring and predictable, had more than enough money and space to house a kid who needed a place to live. But no one was seeing it Seth’s way. For a while he thought his dad was on his side, but after a week of needling Sandy, too, had begun to snap at Seth to ‘Stop bugging me already.’
Seth approached his dad one more time to try to reason with him. His dad had just gotten home from work and was standing by the kitchen counter looking through the mail that had come that day. Junk mail in one pile, bills in another, a colorful postcard off to the side. His dad was still wearing his suit and tie. Seth wondered if he’d have been better off waiting until the morning, after his dad had been surfing. He was often easier to talk to post-surf.
“He’s no worse off now than he was before I picked him up,” Sandy said, avoiding his son’s eyes. There was a sharpness to his voice that didn’t ring true in his posture.
“But he wasn’t okay then--” Seth argued. Seth felt like they’d been arguing forever. He could barely remember a time when he looked at his parents with anything but frustration and doubt.
“If he needed help he’d have called us,” Sandy insisted. “He has my number - he has all of our numbers - and he hasn’t called once. Maybe he’s happy to be home.”
“Yeah?” Seth asked, nodding his head. “You really think that?” In Seth’s mind that was the turning point. If his dad was stooping to low blows like ‘Maybe he’s happy to be home’ then Seth was free to do some stooping himself. “You really think that he’s…that he’s happy to be back with the people who kicked him out in the first place? People who hit him and get drunk every night--”
“Seth,” his dad roared. “Enough.”
“It’s not enough, Dad. It’s not enough until he’s back with us. You know the right thing to do.”
“He has his own family, and I’ve been keeping in touch with Social Services,” Sandy’s voice was thin with irritation and he finally made eye contact with his son. “Now you listen to me. I’m done talking about Ryan right now. Understand? You’re going to upset your mother again if you keep up like this. If Ryan wanted our help he would contact us.”
“Dad--”
“I’m done,” Sandy reiterated pointedly. He turned back to sorting the mail and purposefully ignored his son, who remained standing mere feet away, refusing to give up the fight. Something had changed in Seth, Sandy knew. They were entering untested waters.
When Seth finally turned away he’d made up his mind. He went to his room to get his cell phone, his keys, some cash he’s socked away from teaching sailing.
He was going to Chino.
Ryan wasn’t surprised when he was asked to leave the Cohens’ house; he didn’t blame them one bit. He was grateful for the reprieve but he was well aware that his intrusion would not be tolerated for long. He also knew that Seth was upset about his going - and he truly felt bad about that - but Ryan had to go back into survival mode now, think about himself first. He couldn’t worry about Seth. After all, Seth had a life of his own before Ryan came into the picture and he did okay then. Maybe not great but hell, nobody had it easy.
Sandy dropped him off at home and waited for him to walk inside his mom’s house before driving away. It seemed like a silly, old-fashioned thing to do. What would Sandy have done if the door had been locked? He wouldn’t have taken Ryan back. And if he’d waited with him it could have been hours. Ryan was glad the door was open.
As he walked through the threshold he felt a chill come over him, he felt the tug of the strange and spoiled last few days and he stomped it down to the back of his brain. He didn’t want to forget about the Cohens but right now he couldn’t think about them, either. No one was home, which felt like a final pardon. He’d have some time to get back into Chino mode.
The first thing he had to do was clean. After a quick inspection of the kitchen he ran to the corner store several blocks away to buy dish soap and paper towels. Once home, Ryan did the dishes, straightened the clothes that were strewn on nearly every surface, and vacuumed the floors. He wasn’t sure that he’d be welcomed back with any more enthusiasm because of the work he did, but at least it kept him busy in the meantime.
He’d just put the vacuum away when his mom and AJ came home. They came through the door happy and stumbling, and Ryan fixed a hesitantly accepting look on his face.
“Ryan!” Dawn said, the giddiness falling from her face.
“Hi, Mom,” Ryan said. His eyes flitted anxiously between his mom and AJ.
“Ryan,” AJ echoed sarcastically. Ryan dropped his gaze to an electrical outlet on the wall behind the two adults. He studied the shape of it over and over in an almost frantic need to be distracted.
“You’re home.” Again, his mom’s voice was flat.
“I wore out my welcome where I was staying,” Ryan admitted.
“Doesn’t surprise me,” AJ said, walking past Dawn to go to the kitchen. Ryan heard the fridge open, then the cap being wrenched off a bottle with a heart-thumping pop. Ryan hated that sound.
“Well,” Dawn said. She plastered on a phony smile. She stepped closer to Ryan, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t start with him. I think it’ll be okay if you stay, as long as you keep out of his way.”
“Okay, Ma,” Ryan nodded his head. He’d heard it all before; he knew the drill.
Dawn went to talk to AJ and Ryan stayed where she’d left him. He could have heard their conversation if he’s tried but instead he just focused on the outlet, running his eyes along the 8 it formed again and again. When he was lying on the floor it was less an 8 and more a ∞. But that was neither here nor there.
“Your mom wants you to stay,” AJ was all of a sudden in front of Ryan, his breath warm and stale. Ryan flinched, surprised that his self-hypnosis had worked so well. “You watch yourself.” Ryan blinked slowly and nodded his head. “Look at me,” AJ demanded. Ryan raised his eyes obediently, his watery blues meeting AJ’s dull browns. “You’re on probation here, kid.”
Ooh. Ryan thought. A three-syllable word. Of course, ‘probation’ was one AJ knew well. Ryan smiled at the idea and AJ’s eyes darkened.
“What’s so funny, asshole?” AJ challenged. He grabbed Ryan’s arm and jerked him forward a step. Ryan stopped smiling and looked down at the hand holding him.
“Nothing,” he said quickly. He knew better than to try to pull away.
“Good. Now go to your room,” he shoved Ryan toward the hallway and Ryan went, nearly tripping over his own feet in his eagerness to get away from AJ.
Ryan lay on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, running his gaze along the cracks in the plaster. He knew that if he looked at his arm he’d see the fingerprints first white, then red.
So he didn’t look.
Ryan managed to stay under AJ’s radar for several days. He was polite, he was quiet, he was out of the way. He cleaned up after his mom and AJ and made a trip to the Laundromat to try to catch up on the clothes that had been neglected in his absence. None of this mattered when AJ was high on coke, however. None of it mattered in the least.
Ryan came home late in the evening and the first thing he saw was his mom passed out on the couch. The second thing he saw was AJ sitting in an armchair, feet up and TV on. What Ryan forgot to do was wipe his face clean of emotion. In a way, all of these altercations were Ryan’s fault. At least in the way that he could always come up with something that set AJ off, something that Ryan could have avoided, to possibly have avoided the whole thing. This time it was the look of disgust and blame that he accidentally gave AJ.
“Go to your room,” AJ said immediately.
“Is she--”
“She’s fine,” AJ roared. When he went from mild to aggressive in seconds Ryan knew that evil wasn’t far off. Ryan teetered on his feet while he fought with himself over whether he should check on his mom himself or go to his room. He knew what would happen - the whole thing was already playing out in his head - he already hurt - but he couldn’t help himself.
“Can I just--” he asked, walking slowly toward Dawn.
“I said go to your room,” AJ thundered. In half a second he was standing, looming high over Ryan. AJ angry was an undeniable presence. Close now, Ryan saw that AJ’s eyes were dilated, confirming his suspicions. He didn’t even feel himself reaching for his mom, but he saw his hands moving. What he did feel was the enormous slam of AJ’s fist into the side of his head. Ryan fell awkwardly and fast, hitting the floor with alarming speed. It wasn’t like fighting a classmate, AJ. It was like being hit by a semi.
Ryan’s head spun dangerously and he grabbed at the carpet to steady himself.
“What did I tell you?” AJ asked.
“I’m sorry,” Ryan said, but it came out in a whisper that Ryan himself couldn’t hear. He rolled onto his stomach and started to push himself up. He saw AJ pull a booted foot back and gasped “No!” but it was too late. As AJ’s foot buried itself in Ryan’s gut Ryan was displaced backward several feet, landing abruptly on his side. He grunted and heaved in pain, curling his arms around himself. He saw AJ reach for him again. “No,” Ryan repeated, louder this time.
“When I tell you to do something you do it,” AJ snarled, grabbing Ryan by the collar of his shirt. He hauled him up to his feet and half-carried, half-dragged him to his bedroom. “Now get in there,” he threw Ryan toward the bed. Ryan fell short and landed instead back on the floor, rolling again to his stomach to try to stand. No matter what, he had to get up.
“I just wanted…my mom okay,” Ryan mumbled, his thoughts garbled.
“I’ll deal with her, all right? You’re the fucking kid. Know your fucking place.”
Ryan reached up to the mattress and grabbed, pulled until he was standing. He was fairly certain that he had at least one broken rib from AJ kicking him. He stood, albeit shakily, and faced AJ.
“If she needs help--” Ryan began. He was cut off again by AJ’s fist, this time in Ryan’s mouth, cutting his lips on his teeth. Ryan’s head was thrown to the side with the force of the blow and he slowly righted it, trembling fingers finding their way up to his bloodied mouth. AJ shoved him hard once more and Ryan fell again, hitting his head on the bedpost on the way down.
The cab pulled up to Ryan’s mom’s house and Seth opened the car door before the vehicle had even come to a stop. He tried to tell himself that it was because he couldn’t wait to get rid of this aggressive tailgater of a driver, or maybe it was the too-new, too-sweet smell of the watermelon air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror. Or maybe it was because he realized ten minutes into the drive that he was in way over his head. He’d made a bad choice. In any case he had to get this over with.
Seth handed money to the cab driver, muttering, “There’s some extra there. You might consider a less noxious melon the next time you--”
“What?” the irritated driver interrupted him.
“Nothing. Thanks, I said. Thank you. For your speedy and accurate delivery--” Seth stopped talking when the cab whizzed away from the curb, the tires giving the tiniest of squeaks in their hurry. Seth looked at the house before him; a trashed yard, skeletal bushes framing the front door. “Oh boy,” he said.
He took a deep breath.
Seth looked at Ryan’s limp body, the blood-stained shirt. He finally got up the nerve to launch himself off the doorway and into Ryan’s room. He half-fell at Ryan’s head. His heart was thumping unbelievably quickly in his chest.
“Oh my God, um, Ryan?” Seth asked, afraid to touch him. He leaned closer and whispered loudly in Ryan’s ear. “Ryan. Ryan, are you okay?” Nothing. “Buddy? Come on, pal,” Seth touched Ryan’s shoulder and finally Ryan’s eyes jerked open. His first moment awake was a panicked one; Ryan drew in a fast, deep breath and tensed, drawing his body away from Seth. His eyes were wide and scared.
“It’s okay,” Seth said, trying to sound soothing. Trying not to completely flip out.
“Seth?” Ryan mumbled. “Are you…you’re here? In Chino?” Ryan’s mouth was swollen and sore; it was hard to talk. Luckily Seth was never at a loss for words.
“Yeah, I came to see how you were, and it looks like it’s a good thing I’m here. Let’s get you out of here, all right?”
“Where am I gonna go?” Ryan asked helplessly.
“I’ll take you home.”
“No, Seth--” Ryan argued quietly. “They don’t want me there.”
“Don’t worry about that right now. We just need to get you up. Okay?”
“Seth--” Ryan said again. Seth went behind him and tried to put his arms around Ryan’s chest to pull him up to his feet. Ryan shouted out in pain and Seth immediately let go. “Give me a minute,” Ryan said, tears in his eyes. “Just give me a minute.”
“Okay,” Seth answered anxiously.
“Is AJ still here?”
“I don’t think so. I didn’t see anyone.”
“My mom was on the couch. Is she still there?”
“I didn’t see anyone,” Seth repeated. “I’ll go check.” He stood up to leave.
“Seth!” Ryan said when Seth was in the doorway. “Wait.”
“What?” he asked, looking back at Ryan.
“I don’t want you to go,” Ryan said, feeling suddenly like a very small child.
“It’s okay,” Seth’s voice was soothing, non-judgmental. “I’ll be right back. Okay? I’ll be back in two seconds.”
“Okay,” Ryan felt foolish. He strained his neck to watch Seth leave, and sure enough he was back within seconds.
“No one’s out there,” Seth said.
“She probably didn’t know I was home,” Ryan said quickly.
“Yeah,” Seth agreed immediately, his voice betraying his doubt. “I’m sure she didn’t. Listen, let’s just get you out of here, okay?” He waited while Ryan collected himself, climbed slowly to his feet.
“This sucks,” Ryan mumbled, hanging his head. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” Seth put an arm around Ryan for support. “Thank God I’m here. All right? Now we’ve got to get you cleaned up a little, and then we’ll go to Casa de Cohen and relax. I hear they’ve got great Thai delivery only minutes away.” Seth led Ryan - slowly - to the bathroom, where Ryan found a semi-clean washcloth and worked at wiping the dried blood from his face.
“How about a new shirt?” Seth asked.
“Look in my dresser drawer,” Ryan said. Seth did, and returned moments later with a plain white T. Ryan began the struggle of lifting his arms and pulling the bloody T-shirt over his head, but he was fully certain now that his rib was broken and the movement proved to be too much.
“Let me help,” Seth said quietly, leaning in to tug the shirt off. Once Ryan was properly dressed and no longer gory Seth pulled out his cell phone.
“What are you doing?” Ryan asked, eyeing the cell suspiciously.
“I have to call for a cab,” Seth explained, looking at Ryan with wide, innocent eyes.
“Shit, Seth,” Ryan mumbled. He half-heartedly kicked the tub, raising a hand to rub his sore head. “Why didn’t you drive?”
“I had to make a clean break,” Seth said, his dramatic language telling Ryan that this had been a secret mission.
“Sandy and Kirsten don’t know you’re here.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Uh, no, but it’s not like it’s gonna be a problem--”
“Fuck, Seth,” Ryan groaned. “I don’t want to stay here while a cab comes. Can we leave?”
“Sure,” Seth agreed quickly. He’d be more than happy to get out of this house as quickly as they could. Although neither of them mentioned it they were both terrified of AJ showing up, and the possibility was too real to ignore. Seth helped Ryan out to the curb and they walked half-way down the block before Ryan allowed Seth to open his phone again.
“Wait,” Ryan said. “Let me.” He took the phone and dialed a number that he’d memorized what felt like ages ago. “Tell your dad where you are. He’s got to be worried about you,” Ryan handed the phone to Seth, who took it helplessly, shooting a quick glare Ryan’s way.
“Dad,” Seth said. “Listen, I need help.”
Just over an hour later Sandy’s fancypants car pulled up to the curb outside of the corner store where Ryan and Seth waited. Seth stood up immediately and walked to the car, meeting Sandy just as he’d climbed from the front seat. They embraced and Ryan could hear Sandy’s scolding: “If you ever….” Ryan smiled despite himself.
Seth got into the backseat and Sandy approached Ryan.
“God, kid. You look like Hell,” Sandy said. “Can you get up?” he reached a hand down to Ryan, who looked at it, cocked his head to the side a little, and stood up without Sandy’s help. Sandy let a half-smile crack his stony demeanor and said “I knew you reminded me of me. Stubborn bastard. You all right?”
“I’ll be fine,” Ryan muttered.
“What happened?” Sandy was all seriousness again.
“Mom’s boyfriend. Broken rib. Headache.”
“Split lip, bloody ear,” Sandy continued. Bloody ear? They must have missed that one. Sandy looked at Ryan thoughtfully. "You’re gonna be okay, kid. I’m gonna make sure of it.”
“Uh huh,” Ryan turned away, ducking his head.
“No, kid. I mean it,” Sandy put his hand behind Ryan’s neck and pulled him close. “You’re coming home with me,” he said, “And I’m not going to let you out of my sight. Understand?”
And with that Ryan allowed himself to take a deep, shaky breath, which he knew would end in tears. Sandy pulled him close and repeated, seemingly endlessly, “It’s gonna be okay, now, Ryan. It’s gonna be okay.” He hugged Ryan gently, trying not to squeeze him and hurt his rib more.
“I’ll do whatever it takes, kid. I swear I’m gonna keep you safe.”