What Was Left Unsaid: Bombsite
What Was Left Unsaid Chapter Index
Main characters and pairings featured in this chapter: Craig, Joey, Snake aka Mr. Simpson, Ashley, various Degrassi High students.
Brief summary of this chapter: Craig's friends and family struggle to be there for him as he goes to a place that they really can't follow; how are they supposed to have any idea what he must be feeling.
20. Bombsite
He didn’t want to be there. If his stomach hadn’t been empty, he was sure he would have thrown up once they entered the funeral home. Craig was sure he even shrunk back some, bumping his shoulder into Joey, as they made their way through the lobby and towards the viewing room. People seemed to part apart, making way for them and studying him as he walked past. He couldn’t handle their eyes on him. His gaze moved back and forth over the gathering of his family…his father’s family. He wasn’t sure what to think of them. It had been so long since he had seen them; they felt estranged from him in a way, not completely his family anymore. He felt guilty for thinking that but his feelings didn’t stop him from requesting that Mr. Simpson and Ashley accompany him, Joey, and Caitlin. They were the ones that were giving him support like he’d expect from a family. He needed them there. He felt like they were the only ones keeping him grounded in this situation. Sometimes he didn’t trust himself at all, like there was nothing keeping him from throwing him out of a window just to silence the noise in his head.
“Take all the time you need,“ someone in a suit reassured him as he pushed opened the heavy oak door. Craig closed his eyes for a moment and forced himself to take a deep breath. He could do this. A glance at his teacher seemed to convey the message that he wanted him present and he felt him moving beside him. He felt himself floating into the room. He avoided looking straight ahead. He looked over the empty chairs, the carpet, and then finally allowed his gaze to settle on the closed casket.
Craig was doing a strange rationalization process when it came to this. He told himself he had to develop some strategy. He could think of it as a game. Each event this evening was a game space and he was just trying to get to the end. He could make up rules to follow, steps he‘d take to get to closer to the end of the night. He was a robot. None of this was happening. Damn them for trying to make this happen. Joey said it would help give him closure. What did his stepfather know? Craig wanted to get as far away from the reality of this as possible.
“I can’t close my eyes, ever. Whenever I do, I see the most disturbing things. It’s like a horror movie is playing in my head all the time,” Craig said softly to Mr. Simpson. He wasn‘t making any eye contact with his teacher though. His eyes were glued on the closed funeral casket a few feet from him. “And I don’t even see my dad all the time. Sometimes it’s just these distorted ghostly faces with screaming mouths and wild eyes. Sometimes I see blood. Or people who have amputations.”
“That’s normal, Craig. It’s normal to be seeing those types of things. It’s your brain’s way of telling you that you are having a hard time dealing. It’s a way for you to try to work through your feelings,” was the best explanation Simpson could give to that.
“I keep reliving it over and over. All the things I could have done different. And I see the room where he did it over and over. I didn’t actually see him after he did it but I can imagine and I see him covered in blood and just a mess.”
“Totally normal, Craig,” Simpson reassured.
“I need to see him again,” Craig said. He couldn’t believe he was gone.
“I know you want that more than anything right now,” Simpson said and gave a glance to Joey, who was lurking by the door.
“I wish it was an open casket service. I want to know what he looks like. Does that sound really morbid?”
“If it’s a closed casket, there’s probably a reason for that.”
“Maybe if I could just see, those dreams would go away,” Craig said as he got to his feet. He was suddenly unhappy about how unreal this felt. There was no way to make this able to deal with.
“No. It would make it worse,” Simpson said and motioned for Joey to approach them.
Craig took a few steps closer to the casket. Simpson grabbed onto the teenager. He firmly held the boy’s upper arm with one hand and massaged his back with the other hand. He didn’t quite trust Craig right now. How far would he take this?
“It’s just not even real now. I need to make this real,” Craig murmured.
“Craig, this is real,” Joey said as he approached his stepson from behind and took his place close beside him. He took a firm but sympathetic grasp of Craig’s arm with one hand and used the other to rub small circles on his back. Just keep him calm and stay calm, Joey silently told himself.
“Let go of me,” Craig said and shot a confused look at his step dad. They were treating him like he was crazy again. His mind briefly flashed back to the night of his suicide attempt, that fateful night when he took a handful of pills and went to his stepfathers. He thought it would bring some resolution to his situation. And it did, in an odd way. Craig’s eyes moved over the wood grain of the casket. This was very ironic. “There’s something about this that is like a dream. It’s not real.”
“If you want to be close to the casket, that’s fine. But we are going to stay right next to you. And you can’t open it up,” Joey said.
“What good would that do?” Craig sighed.
“Do you want to go look at some pictures of your dad?” Simpson asked, trying to distract the teen. Craig was making him nervous. He was a bit too distanced from reality at this moment. “Pictures would help you remember how your dad looked.”
“Maybe this isn’t even real. Maybe it’s just all in my head and I went crazy and I’m imagining it all,” Craig said softly, in a dreamlike state.
Joey moved so he was standing in front of Craig. He had to shift his attention away and get him to think about something else. He took the boy’s hand and squeezed it hard. “Can you feel that?”
Craig nodded and made eye contact with his step dad.
Joey squeezed Craig’s hand again, “You can feel it, so you are here and this is real.”
“I just don’t feel right.”
“Come with me and take some anxiety meds okay?” Joey encouraged. He ignored Simpson’s disapproving look. He knew that Simpson thought the boy should be allowed to grieve. Joey agreed entirely, but he really didn’t want Craig to have a freak-out in public, especially if that freak-out including opening the casket against everyone’s wishes.
Craig nodded rapidly, eager for anything that would help get him through this. So he followed Joey and eagerly gulped down the pill with some water. He told himself to just stay focused on his stepfather, even if he couldn’t quite make sense of his voice. But he could see him and after a few moments, he let him lead him back out into the lobby of the funeral home. He was sure he looked a slightly confused as he managed to break his gaze from his stepfather and actually acknowledge that Caitlin and his media immersion teacher stood next to him.
“How are you doing?” Caitlin asked and hoped that she didn’t sound nervous. She watched Craig give her sort of a half nod.
“I think I’m okay,” he said and noticed how his voice didn’t sound like his at all. “Ashley’s going to be here, right?”
“Yes, she’ll be here,” Joey reassured.
“That’s okay that she’s coming right?”
“Absolutely.”
“I wonder why they put people through this twice,” Craig muttered.
“This is a private time for the family. More informal,” Joey answered.
“Yeah, I know. I just…I’d be fine with one service,” Craig replied and widened his eyes at his grandparents approaching. He noticed how they seemed older and when his grandmother embraced him he noticed that she still wore the same perfume.
Then came the apology and the talk you’d only hear at a funeral home. He knew that kind of talk; he had done this once before. There was a routine to death. They told you it happened right away and you felt like you would literally fall to pieces. While the shock and occasional bouts of tears carried on the food would arrive, interrupted by phone calls from people who had just heard the news. There was a lot of “I’m sorry for you loss” until you didn’t think you could stand it anymore and finally a few days later the wake would happen. When you think they couldn’t take anymore out of you, your loved one would finally be put into the ground the following morning. He hadn’t figured out all of the details, like when it would happen but he knew that people would always leave you earlier than you expected and that was the cold, hard truth.
Craig blinked a few times and tried to focus on what his grandparents were saying. He couldn’t hear their voices but he heard their thoughts. He was a terrible son. He didn’t stay with his father and he didn’t love him like a son should so this had to happen. That was what they were thinking. They thought that he was a terrible son.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t see you more often. Boarding school. Totally bogged down with homework, even over the holidays,” Craig said. He fidgeted as he watched an exchange of glances between his grandparents and Joey. They all must have known that he was lying.
He felt himself zoning out. He could see lips moving and strained to make sense of the words. He felt his grandmother embrace him once more and then she was gone. Craig managed to get himself to look at Joey.
“I don’t know why I just said that. I don’t know how much they know,” he tried to explain.
Joey could only smile reassuringly and rub Craig’s back as a response. Somewhere in the back of his brain, a voice quietly reminded him that this was still Craig. He had become unrecognizable in a way. He alternated between seeming very young and a totally different person. He told himself this was the kid who jammed in the garage with his buddies until the neighbors complained. He was the one who would spend 5 hours in the darkroom at school and argue with him about how it was more important than his science homework. He was the one who was fiercely protective over his little sister and girlfriend and humored him by laughing at his lame jokes. And he would laugh again, Joey reassured himself. This was Craig.
“I felt like I had to explain something to them. I still feel like I have to explain it to them,” Craig mumbled, still arguing in his head about how to explain his relationship with his father to his family.
“Don’t worry about it. They understand,” Joey finally said. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of everything.”
Craig hadn’t even thought about the details. He nervously swallowed but took some comfort in Joey’s gaze. He would take care of him, he said. He wouldn’t leave him. Craig felt the medication slowly start to slip into his veins. His head was going a little numb and his racing thoughts finally starting to slow down. Soon they’d be silenced. He didn’t have to worry about people leaving. As if on cue, he saw her enter. Ashley moved delicately and he saw her gaze dart around the room as if she felt out of place all the while scanning the crowd for him. He weaved past relatives and eagerly embraced her.
“You came. I was so afraid you weren’t going to come,” he said softly.
“I thought I’d give you some time with your family before the service,” Ashley explained.
“Things seem really strange with them,” Craig replied as Ashley pulled away from him. She brushed a lock of hair off of his forehead and gazed into his eyes for a moment.
“I’m sorry. They are probably caught up in their own grief,” Ashley chose to say. She was being so careful with her words lately. She felt completely out of her element. And out of her league. If she could help or protect him she would, but she had a feeling nothing she could do would help.
“I guess. I think it’s me.”
“Want to go talk to them? Introduce me to your grandparents?” Ashley asked. “I came dressed to please family members tonight.”
Craig looked her over, realizing that that he hadn’t even noticed her clothes. He wasn’t seeing the details lately. “You look nice,” Craig managed to say, taking in how her clothes weren’t vintage or had a punky edge. She looked more grown up in her grey tweed pants and black cardigan. She was a little less Ashley tonight, although he knew stuff like that didn’t matter. It must just be the night. He didn’t feel like himself either but he doubted it was the black dress pants and button down shirt.
“Craig? Want to stand with Joey?” Ashley questioned after she didn’t get a reply. She stared into his eyes, looking for some answer but she just got a vacant stare in return. Every once in awhile she would see his eyes flicker and her heart ached. She could only imagine all of his emotions, all trying to find their way out.
“I can’t make up my mind about anything,” he whispered to her and she took his hand and led him over to his stepfather.
Craig zoned out while the others made small talk. He would come around to talk with a relative and receive a hug, then drifted out again once he felt it was safe to not be ‘normal’. This was going to exhaust him. He was mixed with relief and dread once the time came to go back into the viewing room. Naturally, Joey sat next to him. He barely noticed that Ashley was cautious to take the seat on the other side of him, but Caitlin encouraged her.
Craig immediately took Ashley’s hand once the service started. He stared around the room and focused on various details in the room; the shadows that formed from the soft lighting, the green specks in the light grey carpet, or the patterns in the wooden panels on the wall. He had to do something. The whole situation made him feel raw. Joey told him that this was supposed to be a private time for the family to grieve; it was more personal. He was right about it feeling personal, Craig silently agreed. The whole thing felt invasive. Like he was in some surgery and they were trying to pull the emotions out of him. But once they went in and yanked a reaction out of him, he wasn’t sure if he could stop the tears or the screaming. It was like an operation gone wrong and the blood might never cease to stop flowing. His wounds were that deep, didn’t they understand? So he had to check himself out of this situation.
He snapped to attention when the minister asked the family members to share memories of Albert Manning. He hoped it wasn’t like school and he’d be called on. Even if he wasn’t called on, he had a feeling he was expected to say something. He squeezed Ashley’s hand so tight he thought she might cry out and barely heard his relatives re-telling their favorite memories of his father. When they bowed down their heads to pray, he couldn’t help but pray for it to be over.
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“At least that’s over with,” Craig declared as he undid a few buttons on his shirt and sank down onto the living room couch. He felt the couch shift and could smell the slight scent of jasmine perfume. He didn’t even have to tear his eyes from the blank TV screen to know it was Ashley.
“Did it help any?” Ashley asked after a moment of silence.
“Made it more real, that’s for sure,” Craig said and didn’t move a muscle. He didn’t even blink.
“Each day will get easier,” Joey offered as he sat down on the other side of Craig. “You just need to give it time.”
Craig sighed. He had been doing a lot of sighing lately. He felt so heavy on the inside. He was surprised he had the strength to get up and go to the visitation service with the rest of his father’s family.
“You know it’s weird…I don’t really know my own family. I mean my dad’s side. I feel like we’re all being fake. I thought they would want to talk to me about what happened or ask about the past few years but everyone just kind of avoided the subject,” Craig observed.
“Craig, you can still see them whenever you want,” Joey had to reassured and tried to ignore some strange shift in Craig‘s face and that flicker of anger in his eyes. “They are your family and they care about you.”
Craig tried to keep his mind from going there, to that place where he questioned why this had to happen. Maybe it was Joey’s fault, like his dad had always said. It should have just been him and his father. Then this wouldn’t have happened. He felt like his brain never stopped that search for answers. It was a journey and just when he thought he would fall from exhaustion, something kept pushing him on.
“I think I did everything wrong,” Craig sighed.
“No. No, you didn’t,” Caitlin said firmly and joined them. She handed Craig a bottle of water but it remained unopened in his hands.
“What I should have done is called the cops the moment he threatened it.”
They were silent for a moment. Then Ashley stated softly, “Maybe you didn’t know he was serious.”
“I thought he was doing it to get my attention. To get me to come over. I remember thinking about calling the police. I remember thinking about calling you, Joey. I really didn’t think he would do it.”
“I know,” Joey agreed. “It’s not your fault.”
“Why do that to me? Why make me come over and hear it happen?”
“I think he just wanted to say goodbye and let you know that he’s sorry for what he did to you. It was his way of tying loose ends,” Joey offered. He knew the guessing game of why Albert committed suicide would continue to haunt Craig and none of his suggestions would bring him any closer to coming to terms with his passing, at least not now.
“That makes sense, Craig,” Ashley chimed in, eager to give out a few helpful words. She had no idea how to ease his pain.
“I can’t believe that he thought that this was for the best,” Craig mumbled and rubbed his head. He was having a hard time controlling what he said. He knew he couldn’t control what he was thinking; there was no way of keeping that in order. But for the most part he could control what he said. But not now, it all just fell out.
“I thought he just wanted to get my attention. Get me to come over.”
“I understand,” Ashley whispered back.
“He’s such an asshole,” Craig stated bitterly. The anger was returning to him now and in a way he found it refreshing. At least with the anger he felt alive. “Well, he showed me didn’t he?”
“Excuse me?” Joey questioned. It was hard to follow this kid’s thought processes sometimes.
“We were always doing shit to hurt each other. He used to beat the crap out of me so I had to come here and I know he resented me for it. He ignored me for a few months, I didn’t spend Christmas with him, and everything else. I can’t even keep track of it. We just had that fight. And now this. He won.”
“Your dad had a lot of issues, a lot which had nothing to do with you. Or me even,” Joey tried to explain. “None of this is your fault. I don’t think he blames you at all.”
Craig shook his head and rocked back and forth several times as he tried to process this. They didn’t understand. They didn’t have to live with his dad and they weren’t there that night. All the memories were crashing into him now, angry waves that would knock him over if he was standing up right.
“I always used to wish he’d punch me in the mouth and break my jaw so my mouth would have to be wired shut. Then I wouldn‘t say the things I do,” Craig said with a bitter laugh and brushed away a tear. He caught sight of the disturbed looks. “Or I’d do that to him and he’d stop.” They were still giving him that look. “It’s just thoughts! I don’t mean any of them.”
Craig glanced around the room at their faces. Ashley refused to look up from the floor and he opened his mouth, but couldn’t find the words to explain. He glanced over at Joey, who return his gaze with sympathetic eyes and rubbed his knee reassuringly. Craig started to kick off his dress shoes, his sharp movements full of frustration. Then he sighed heavily for what felt like the hundredth time since they got home.
“You look exhausted,” Caitlin couldn’t help but say. The bags under his eyes got darker each day. It was obvious how much baggage this kid was carrying around.
“Maybe you should head up to bed,” Joey encouraged. “You need to rest up for tomorrow.”
“Oh you have no idea how much I’m looking forward to that,” Craig gripped about the funeral. He felt Ashley’s hand on the back of his neck, softly caressing him. He was still tense. “I hate that I have to do all this. It doesn’t help!”
“It will in the long run,” Joey tried to explain. “But no pressure. We don’t want to force you to do something you can’t handle. But I really think it would help you to attend.”
“I know I have to go. What kind of son would I be if I didn’t go? They all think I’m a terrible son, I know it. I know it too,” Craig said and squeezed the couch cushion. “I can’t get my mind around this. Nothing makes any sense.”
“Hey, let’s go upstairs and listen to some music. It might help mellow you out,” Ashley encouraged.
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Craig re-entered his bedroom, feeling a little awkward in his flannel pajama bottoms and old concert t-shirt. He felt anxiety about that fade as he realized he had more important things to worry about. They were encouraging him to sleep and that meant nightmares. He went for the top drawer and pulled a pill bottle out of one of his socks. He glanced at his bedroom door that was left ajar before twisting off the bottle top. Joey was strict about following the orders on the medication bottles.
“One doesn’t knock me out. I need another,” Craig explained as he popped a pill in his mouth and swallowed it easily without water. As he put the bottle away he swore he felt the calmness start to wash over him, but it must just be the relief of knowing that he had a little chemical help.
Ashley pushed play on the CD player, clicked through several of the tracks, and lowered the volume. “No more Neutral Milk Hotel for you. I know how you get. You’ll be up writing songs all night,“ Ashley said and smiled a little, remembering their heartfelt discussions about music and the energy that would fill the room when they were working on a song together.
“Mazzy Star is my chill out music,” Ashley explained and watched Craig lay down. For the first time that night she actually felt like she was helping and this pleased her. She laid down beside him, on top of the blankets and still in her street clothes. She wanted to ask her mother if she could spend the night but she already knew the answer to that. It didn’t matter how much she explained that he needed her there with him. But at least she could be here for another half hour. She could get him to sleep, she told herself as she leaned over to flip off the bedside lamp.
“No,” the word just slipped out of Craig’s mouth and he started to sit up. He watched Ashley turn to look at him and he realized how stupid his new fear was. So he laid back down, trying not to think about dead people, ghosts, and blood.
“Hey, are you okay?” Ashley asked as the room grew darker. She could still see his tense facial expression. The door was ajar and the light from the hall spilled into a sharp triangle on the floor and prevented the whole room from being washed over in darkness.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” he managed to say. He rubbed his sore eyes.
“Should I turn out the hall light? Can you sleep with the light on?”
“Can you leave it on?” Craig asked, barely feeling any shame. He had pretty much accepted that this was his reality and with that, the shame was starting to wash away. He had crazy reasoning but, hey, it was working for him.
“I can leave it on,” Ashley soothed. She rolled over on her side so she could watch Craig. He was laying on his back, eyes staring up at the ceiling, and hands folded up and resting on his stomach.
“The sleeping pills haven’t been working too well lately,” Craig said softly. “Sometimes they put me to sleep but I can’t sleep all night.”
“Maybe you can sleep with me here,” Ashley suggested. She reached over and pried apart his clasped hands. She took his hand and curled her fingers around his. “Just want to be right by your side. Right by your side,” she sang along softly to “Bells Ring” and let the music take her away. The melody was swelling and the guitar taking them closer to the end of the song.
“Do you pray?” Craig asked as the songs transitioned. Religion had never really come up in their discussions. If it did, it was more political and not personal.
“Uh, sometimes I guess. Not too often. I’m not…I don’t follow any specific religion.”
“Yeah, I don’t pray either. Until all this happened. It’s kind of selfish why I do it though. I just want the pain to go away.”
“That’s not selfish,” Ashley said and Craig saw the emotion in her eyes. He wondered if this was too much for her to handle; Craig knew that she was the type to take in everyone’s emotions, try to relate to them and then heal them.
The next question to break the silence was Craig inquiring “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen one. I keep an open mind about it though. Do you?” Ashley replied.
“I think he’s haunting me. I mean…I haven’t seen anything. But he would haunt me, I bet.”
“No. He doesn’t want to hurt you anymore. I don’t think he ever really wanted to hurt you. I mean…I know it happened but I don’t think it was planned. But he’s gone and he’s at peace now. And I know that sounds stupid and it’s all you’ve been hearing. But he’s not here.”
“I hope not,” Craig sighed.
“Let’s talk about something to give you sweet dreams.”
“What would that be?”
“Me of course,” Ashley said with a smile. “Let’s talk about the year-end dance. I know it‘s far away but you know there will be one.”
Craig looked over at her for the first time since she had turned off the lights and laid down. “So you are going with me?”
“Nah, I was thinking about asking…Sully.”
“Can we get a hotel room?” Craig whispered, dismissing her joke.
“You have to have a credit card,” Ashley argued with a playful smile.
“So I’ll use Joey’s.”
“Sounds like plan,” she agreed and noticed that his voice was slurred with sleepiness some. “The Westin or The Hilton?”
“Westin. We’ll get the most expensive suite there. There will be champagne and room service. I’ve always thought that would be great to not have to leave the bed for a day. There’s no reason why we would have to leave that room. The world would be gone,” Craig said and felt himself smile for the first time in days. These thoughts were the first sanctuary he had. “It be our world in that room.”
“Well, what I want to know is what kind of transportation we’ll have. I’m not arriving to prom in my mom’s station wagon. You know how important appearance is to me,” Ashley joked and for a moment they felt themselves again. It was strange what this situation had done to them.
“We’ll take Joey’s car,” Craig immediately said. “I can’t wait until I have my license and can take that baby out.”
Ashley giggled. “Somehow I’m not sure that will happen.”
“What are you going to wear?”
“Something vintage. We’ll have to do lots of shopping. You’ll have that disheveled look to you, rock star. And I want something...20’s inspired maybe. That would be cool.”
“What if you can’t find the perfect vintage dress and you have to go to the mall? What would you wear then?”
Ashley noticed his eyes were closed now. “A long black dress.”
“Oh, black. Of course. Burgundy maybe?”
“Maybe.”
“Something low-cut?”
“That works. You can come with and give your expert opinion. It might be fun to be glamorous for one night. Black classy dress. Maybe something with a shimmer to it,” Ashley paused and looked over at Craig. His breathing was slower now. He still clutched her hand and she could feel his stomach rise and fall with each breath. "You'll be okay," Ashley reassured as she untangled her hand from his and quietly exited the room.
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Craig didn’t notice Joey at first. He was too busy trying to prepare himself for this. As his foot thumped on the floor nervously, he went over in his mind the exact order of events that would happen today. Sometimes he went over them in detail, reminding himself of the order of the funeral service and when he was supposed to sit or stand. Nothing was going to prepare him for this.
“How are you doing, buddy?” Joey greeted warmly and sat down on the bed beside his stepson. He wasn’t surprised to find Craig awake, but was shocked that it had been a quiet night.
“I’m trying to figure out how I’m going to do this,” Craig replied, his gaze shifting around the room but he wasn’t seeing anything. He hadn’t been seeing anything for hours, even though sometimes he moved from his bed to the window to look out.
“You don’t have to do this. If you can’t handle it…”
“No, I have to. Can you imagine what people would say?”
“They’d say you have been through a lot and aren’t ready.”
“I’m never going to be ready.”
Joey rubbed Craig’s knee in an attempt to get his foot to stop bopping around. “I think this will help.”
Craig nodded slowly. “Maybe.”
“You want to take a shower and then come down for some food before we take off?”
He just kept nodding as he got to his feet and headed for the bathroom. At least the bathroom would give him some privacy. He knew he wasn’t going to be getting much of that today, he realized as he turned on the shower. Today was the day when people arrived at his home to support him or whatever it was that they were there for.
Craig stood in front of the bathroom mirror and watched it fog. He barely recognized himself. He was sure that everyone else felt the same way. They knew that he was a bomb site. He swore that if he concentrated hard enough at his reflection, he would start to disappear. And that was how it was too, there were parts of him that just weren’t there anymore.
“I’m not there anymore,” he whispered to his reflection and put his hand on the glass.
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“I thought you said he was awake,” Caitlin remarked a half hour later. She started on the breakfast dishes, but left a box of cold cereal, bowl, and spoon out for Craig. He still hadn’t come down.
“He was. He went right into the bathroom,” Joey said and glanced down at his watch. “I better go check on him.”
“Craig,” Joey called as he climbed the stairs. “You almost ready, buddy?”
Joey paused at the bathroom door and listened to the sound of the shower still running. He knocked on the door and light heartedly called out, “You‘ve been in there for a half hour. I can go grab Caitlin and she can tell you about water preservation, whether you want to hear it or not.”
Joey knocked again, a bit louder. “Craig, you doing okay?” Joey felt the panic shoot through his body and he quickly entered the bathroom. He half expected Craig to be unconscious on the bathroom tiles, having used the shower as a way to buy him more time to take a fatal overdose. Caitlin and Snake frequently picked up on his worry and reassured him that his stepson wasn’t suicidal. Joey tried to tell himself this as well but deep down he knew Craig was impulsive and he was hurting and that had proved in the past to be a deadly combo.
“Craig, we have to get going soon,” Joey reminded from the doorway. He still didn’t get a response. “Okay, you really have me worried.”
Joey decided to take the chance upsetting the boy and entered the bathroom. He could see Craig through the semi-transparent shower curtain. He was crouched down in the tub, like he was cowering from the a heavy rain shower and not the steady stream of water from a shower head. “Craig.”
Still no response or movement. Joey pulled the curtain back enough to reach in to turn off the water and noticed that the water had run ice cold. Craig didn’t even lift his head up when the water was shut off. Joey pulled the curtain back and draped a towel around the boy.
“You must be freezing,” Joey said and rubbed Craig’s shoulders. Craig finally looked up but didn’t say a word. Joey noticed that his teeth were chattering and he grabbed another towel from the rack and gently rubbed the boys wet hair.
“You zoned out huh?” Joey asked, looking over the boy curled up in the tub. He was greeted by more silence. All he could hear was the blood pounding into his ears as his heart rate sped up. Was this kid okay? “Can you say something to me, please?”
“I’m okay,” Craig mumbled and started to stand with Joey’s help. His body was returning to him and it felt like his brain was thawing out. He pulled the towel tighter around him, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “Can you leave me alone?”
“Okay,” Joey decided, satisfied with his grieving stepson’s ability to stand on his own and how he seemed to be back in reality here with him. “Get dressed and come downstairs so you can eat something, alright?”
Craig nodded. “I know we have to do this.”
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“It’s so weird after a funeral,” Craig commented.
His friends immediately stopped chatting and looked at him. Craig wasn’t participating in their somewhat forced discussion of a popular band playing downtown. They weren’t sure he was even listening.
“It figures that they would throw a big party on the one day when you can’t make it,” Craig continued. He felt foggy but picked up on a few shocked expressions. So he made an attempt to explain. “That one dude in The Big Chill said that. Remember that movie? A friend kills himself, in the bathroom, slits his wrists. They don’t show that of course but in the opening of the movie they had this nice shot of his stitched up wrists and then the scene fades to similar criss-crossed pattern in a field.”
Craig glanced around. “I know that sounds weird. Unless if you’ve seen it. It’s just…I dunno. One of those subtle things in movies.”
“It’s a good movie. From the 80’s right? It had all the big stars from back then,” Ashley replied.
“Must have been 80’s night at Joey Jeremiah’s,” Ellie joked, noticing how uncomfortable everyone looked.
“Every Saturday is 80’s night at Joey’s. I was here for the airing of The Breakfast Club. He decided I was Bender,” Sean remarked and rolled his eyes at cornball Joey. “You remind him of Allison, El. It was weird.”
“Anyway,” Craig continued. “So this guy slit his wrists in the tub, and it’s his funeral. All his friends gathering together. And at the funeral party, one dude says ‘it figures that they would throw a big party on the one day when you can’t make it. You put on a real good show.’ And the chick from Fatal Attraction was in it and it was her house where he did it, the suicide. Slitting his wrists. And she says “We only do this for people who kill themselves in our bathroom.”
Spinner broke out into nervous laughter. For the most part, he had no clue what Craig was talking about and his somewhat fragmented telling of the story didn‘t help any. He was beginning to wonder if Craig had totally lost it. He abruptly stopped laughing when Ashley glared at him. She looked over to Craig to see if he was put off by Spinner’s giggling, and she saw that he was staring off again, his head resting on his hand.
Craig was sick of the act. It felt like everyone was fake. There was his father’s family who didn’t address the death or why it happened. It almost felt to him like they wanted to act like it was natural causes; a heart attack because of stress at his father’s job. He was such a hardworking man. And a dedicated father. Craig had almost laughed out loud over that one. The bitterness in him was harsh and almost felt like acid eating at his heart. Who were they kidding? His father used to smack him around and Craig left because he couldn’t handle it anymore. And when they both realized things would never change his father flamed out and shot himself. That was what the real story was, Craig had thought angrily.
His friends were being fake in a way as well. But there’s was the more walking on eggshells type of fake. He knew they didn’t know what to say now or at the church for the funeral. They had slowly trickled into the lobby of the church, each pausing to give him some words of condolence. He was surprised by some of them. He had always thought of Paige as Ashley’s friend or Spinner‘s girlfriend, just a mutual friend to him. But there she was, pulling him into an embrace.
“I think half our class is going to show up,” Paige had quietly spoken into his ear, trying to reassure him that he had people here for him. She couldn’t imagine losing both your parents.
“They are all showing up for the drama?” Craig asked as he broke away.
“No, to get out of school, silly,” was Paige’s quick and witty reply.
“That’s why I’m here. You know I never liked you much to begin with,” Ellie had chimed in, hoping for just once slight smile. Her friend seemed so different.
His band mates Jimmy, Marco, and Spinner were there with serious expressions. He was used to Spinner’s goofy grin and it was a little surreal to see him so stoic in a suit and sober gaze as he gave apologized for Craig‘s loss. He wondered if things would ever return to normal, where he was greeted with a bad joke. They had arrived after Ashley, Sean, and Ellie. Ashley was the first to arrive and surprised him with the news that her mother would be attending. He felt a twinge of shock and then a slight warmth that she cared enough to show up. It was then that he realized how cold he felt on the inside. Cold, empty, and going through the motions.
That would explain why he was completely drained now, sitting here in Joey’s living room while family and friends dropped by. Craig found it hard to focus on them. He had his right hand wrapped around his left wrist and twisted it back and forth. He could barely feel the pressure and the burn. He wasn’t sure if he was looking to hurt himself or not. It was too much work to assess the situation. He wasn’t feeling much of anything. Maybe that was the problem.
Caitlin kneeled down beside Craig and touched his knee. “Can I get you anything to eat or drink?”
Craig shook his head in return.
“I keep checking on those brownies to make sure Spinner hasn’t eaten them all. I brought them for you, you know,” Ashley added.
They got a sigh from Craig in response.
“You might feel better if you ate,” Ellie chimed in. “Remember when we were working in the darkroom for hours that one day and I hadn’t eaten since breakfast? I went to eat and then was able to get my good print.”
Craig stared at her like he was trying to decipher what she was saying. “I don’t really have a reason to eat though.”
“People have been bringing over great food,” Caitlin tried.
“Fine,” Craig muttered, stood up, and headed out for the kitchen.
Craig dished up some food from the various Tupperware containers and tableware. He could feel them watching. They wanted to know if he was so depressed he wouldn’t eat. So he piled hot dishes and salads onto his plate. He was going to walk back over to the couch, but decided to head upstairs instead. He decided the bathroom was the best place for privacy and he strangely wasn‘t disturbed by the idea. He couldn’t eat with people around. He closed the toilet and sat down. He made an attempt to eat. Food made him nauseous. He tilted his head back and sighed heavily.
He stared ahead blankly for awhile. Every once in awhile he could force himself to take a few bites. Then he gave up and set the plate down on the bathroom floor. By that point there were knocks on the door.
He then heard Joey’s voice. “Craig, you doing okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“How about if you eat with us?”
“I’m fine,” Craig reassured and Joey noticed more annoyance in his voice this time.
“Craig, you need your friends and family,” Joey said after a few moments of silence
“I’m fine,” Craig was quick to reply. He could feel Joey still out side the door minutes later.
“Craig, are you sick?”
“I’m fine.”
“Then come out and be with us,” Joey encouraged.
Craig stood up and kicked at the open air. He opened the door. “What?”
“Why’d you lock yourself in the bathroom?” Joey asked and touched Craig’s arm.
“I don’t know. I’m tired.”
“Do you want to lay down for awhile?”
“Stop with this. Please. I’ll go downstairs. I’m fine,” Craig reassured in an exhausted tone and returned to his place on the couch. He had left Ashley sitting there before, starting in on her lunch.
Ashley froze, her fork inches from her mouth. She broke her gaze from Craig’s and put the food in her mouth. She wasn’t sure what to say. Did he eat upstairs? Did he flush it down the toilet? She slowly kept eating, rarely looking up from her plate. She could feel Craig staring at her.
“The pasta salad is good,” she chose to say after the silence stretched on. “Did you try it?”
Craig reached for a baby tomato on her plate and ate it, chewing it slowly and trying not to think about the texture. His appetite was completely gone. He hoped it wasn’t too obvious that it took much effort to swallow.
“Someone brought lasagna,“ Ashley said and pointed to it with her fork. She was trying not to think about how strange it was to watch her boyfriend nibble on food like a starved teenage girl on some deranged diet. She was used to seeing him scarf down french fries and pizza. She had overheard the conversations between Joey and Caitlin and Craig’s appearance said as well; he wasn’t eating or sleeping. She didn’t really blame him, it had to be hard to do anything.
Ashley extended the plate over a few inches, “I can always get more.”
“I can’t,” Craig strained to reply, his voice barely above a whisper. He watched her nod in response and look away. She didn’t want to see him like this, he knew and he didn’t blame her. He felt like an accident scene and he knew that if he looked across the room there would be Joey and Caitlin hovering. They were acting like his parents, encouraging him to carry on some sort of a daily existence but there was something more. It seemed like they were especially watchful, like doctors on call for a patient in intensive care and in a way he felt like he was that patient. He could relate to the uncertainty; he really wasn't sure he could pull through this.
Main characters and pairings featured in this chapter: Craig, Joey, Snake aka Mr. Simpson, Ashley, various Degrassi High students.
Brief summary of this chapter: Craig's friends and family struggle to be there for him as he goes to a place that they really can't follow; how are they supposed to have any idea what he must be feeling.
20. Bombsite
He didn’t want to be there. If his stomach hadn’t been empty, he was sure he would have thrown up once they entered the funeral home. Craig was sure he even shrunk back some, bumping his shoulder into Joey, as they made their way through the lobby and towards the viewing room. People seemed to part apart, making way for them and studying him as he walked past. He couldn’t handle their eyes on him. His gaze moved back and forth over the gathering of his family…his father’s family. He wasn’t sure what to think of them. It had been so long since he had seen them; they felt estranged from him in a way, not completely his family anymore. He felt guilty for thinking that but his feelings didn’t stop him from requesting that Mr. Simpson and Ashley accompany him, Joey, and Caitlin. They were the ones that were giving him support like he’d expect from a family. He needed them there. He felt like they were the only ones keeping him grounded in this situation. Sometimes he didn’t trust himself at all, like there was nothing keeping him from throwing him out of a window just to silence the noise in his head.
“Take all the time you need,“ someone in a suit reassured him as he pushed opened the heavy oak door. Craig closed his eyes for a moment and forced himself to take a deep breath. He could do this. A glance at his teacher seemed to convey the message that he wanted him present and he felt him moving beside him. He felt himself floating into the room. He avoided looking straight ahead. He looked over the empty chairs, the carpet, and then finally allowed his gaze to settle on the closed casket.
Craig was doing a strange rationalization process when it came to this. He told himself he had to develop some strategy. He could think of it as a game. Each event this evening was a game space and he was just trying to get to the end. He could make up rules to follow, steps he‘d take to get to closer to the end of the night. He was a robot. None of this was happening. Damn them for trying to make this happen. Joey said it would help give him closure. What did his stepfather know? Craig wanted to get as far away from the reality of this as possible.
“I can’t close my eyes, ever. Whenever I do, I see the most disturbing things. It’s like a horror movie is playing in my head all the time,” Craig said softly to Mr. Simpson. He wasn‘t making any eye contact with his teacher though. His eyes were glued on the closed funeral casket a few feet from him. “And I don’t even see my dad all the time. Sometimes it’s just these distorted ghostly faces with screaming mouths and wild eyes. Sometimes I see blood. Or people who have amputations.”
“That’s normal, Craig. It’s normal to be seeing those types of things. It’s your brain’s way of telling you that you are having a hard time dealing. It’s a way for you to try to work through your feelings,” was the best explanation Simpson could give to that.
“I keep reliving it over and over. All the things I could have done different. And I see the room where he did it over and over. I didn’t actually see him after he did it but I can imagine and I see him covered in blood and just a mess.”
“Totally normal, Craig,” Simpson reassured.
“I need to see him again,” Craig said. He couldn’t believe he was gone.
“I know you want that more than anything right now,” Simpson said and gave a glance to Joey, who was lurking by the door.
“I wish it was an open casket service. I want to know what he looks like. Does that sound really morbid?”
“If it’s a closed casket, there’s probably a reason for that.”
“Maybe if I could just see, those dreams would go away,” Craig said as he got to his feet. He was suddenly unhappy about how unreal this felt. There was no way to make this able to deal with.
“No. It would make it worse,” Simpson said and motioned for Joey to approach them.
Craig took a few steps closer to the casket. Simpson grabbed onto the teenager. He firmly held the boy’s upper arm with one hand and massaged his back with the other hand. He didn’t quite trust Craig right now. How far would he take this?
“It’s just not even real now. I need to make this real,” Craig murmured.
“Craig, this is real,” Joey said as he approached his stepson from behind and took his place close beside him. He took a firm but sympathetic grasp of Craig’s arm with one hand and used the other to rub small circles on his back. Just keep him calm and stay calm, Joey silently told himself.
“Let go of me,” Craig said and shot a confused look at his step dad. They were treating him like he was crazy again. His mind briefly flashed back to the night of his suicide attempt, that fateful night when he took a handful of pills and went to his stepfathers. He thought it would bring some resolution to his situation. And it did, in an odd way. Craig’s eyes moved over the wood grain of the casket. This was very ironic. “There’s something about this that is like a dream. It’s not real.”
“If you want to be close to the casket, that’s fine. But we are going to stay right next to you. And you can’t open it up,” Joey said.
“What good would that do?” Craig sighed.
“Do you want to go look at some pictures of your dad?” Simpson asked, trying to distract the teen. Craig was making him nervous. He was a bit too distanced from reality at this moment. “Pictures would help you remember how your dad looked.”
“Maybe this isn’t even real. Maybe it’s just all in my head and I went crazy and I’m imagining it all,” Craig said softly, in a dreamlike state.
Joey moved so he was standing in front of Craig. He had to shift his attention away and get him to think about something else. He took the boy’s hand and squeezed it hard. “Can you feel that?”
Craig nodded and made eye contact with his step dad.
Joey squeezed Craig’s hand again, “You can feel it, so you are here and this is real.”
“I just don’t feel right.”
“Come with me and take some anxiety meds okay?” Joey encouraged. He ignored Simpson’s disapproving look. He knew that Simpson thought the boy should be allowed to grieve. Joey agreed entirely, but he really didn’t want Craig to have a freak-out in public, especially if that freak-out including opening the casket against everyone’s wishes.
Craig nodded rapidly, eager for anything that would help get him through this. So he followed Joey and eagerly gulped down the pill with some water. He told himself to just stay focused on his stepfather, even if he couldn’t quite make sense of his voice. But he could see him and after a few moments, he let him lead him back out into the lobby of the funeral home. He was sure he looked a slightly confused as he managed to break his gaze from his stepfather and actually acknowledge that Caitlin and his media immersion teacher stood next to him.
“How are you doing?” Caitlin asked and hoped that she didn’t sound nervous. She watched Craig give her sort of a half nod.
“I think I’m okay,” he said and noticed how his voice didn’t sound like his at all. “Ashley’s going to be here, right?”
“Yes, she’ll be here,” Joey reassured.
“That’s okay that she’s coming right?”
“Absolutely.”
“I wonder why they put people through this twice,” Craig muttered.
“This is a private time for the family. More informal,” Joey answered.
“Yeah, I know. I just…I’d be fine with one service,” Craig replied and widened his eyes at his grandparents approaching. He noticed how they seemed older and when his grandmother embraced him he noticed that she still wore the same perfume.
Then came the apology and the talk you’d only hear at a funeral home. He knew that kind of talk; he had done this once before. There was a routine to death. They told you it happened right away and you felt like you would literally fall to pieces. While the shock and occasional bouts of tears carried on the food would arrive, interrupted by phone calls from people who had just heard the news. There was a lot of “I’m sorry for you loss” until you didn’t think you could stand it anymore and finally a few days later the wake would happen. When you think they couldn’t take anymore out of you, your loved one would finally be put into the ground the following morning. He hadn’t figured out all of the details, like when it would happen but he knew that people would always leave you earlier than you expected and that was the cold, hard truth.
Craig blinked a few times and tried to focus on what his grandparents were saying. He couldn’t hear their voices but he heard their thoughts. He was a terrible son. He didn’t stay with his father and he didn’t love him like a son should so this had to happen. That was what they were thinking. They thought that he was a terrible son.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t see you more often. Boarding school. Totally bogged down with homework, even over the holidays,” Craig said. He fidgeted as he watched an exchange of glances between his grandparents and Joey. They all must have known that he was lying.
He felt himself zoning out. He could see lips moving and strained to make sense of the words. He felt his grandmother embrace him once more and then she was gone. Craig managed to get himself to look at Joey.
“I don’t know why I just said that. I don’t know how much they know,” he tried to explain.
Joey could only smile reassuringly and rub Craig’s back as a response. Somewhere in the back of his brain, a voice quietly reminded him that this was still Craig. He had become unrecognizable in a way. He alternated between seeming very young and a totally different person. He told himself this was the kid who jammed in the garage with his buddies until the neighbors complained. He was the one who would spend 5 hours in the darkroom at school and argue with him about how it was more important than his science homework. He was the one who was fiercely protective over his little sister and girlfriend and humored him by laughing at his lame jokes. And he would laugh again, Joey reassured himself. This was Craig.
“I felt like I had to explain something to them. I still feel like I have to explain it to them,” Craig mumbled, still arguing in his head about how to explain his relationship with his father to his family.
“Don’t worry about it. They understand,” Joey finally said. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of everything.”
Craig hadn’t even thought about the details. He nervously swallowed but took some comfort in Joey’s gaze. He would take care of him, he said. He wouldn’t leave him. Craig felt the medication slowly start to slip into his veins. His head was going a little numb and his racing thoughts finally starting to slow down. Soon they’d be silenced. He didn’t have to worry about people leaving. As if on cue, he saw her enter. Ashley moved delicately and he saw her gaze dart around the room as if she felt out of place all the while scanning the crowd for him. He weaved past relatives and eagerly embraced her.
“You came. I was so afraid you weren’t going to come,” he said softly.
“I thought I’d give you some time with your family before the service,” Ashley explained.
“Things seem really strange with them,” Craig replied as Ashley pulled away from him. She brushed a lock of hair off of his forehead and gazed into his eyes for a moment.
“I’m sorry. They are probably caught up in their own grief,” Ashley chose to say. She was being so careful with her words lately. She felt completely out of her element. And out of her league. If she could help or protect him she would, but she had a feeling nothing she could do would help.
“I guess. I think it’s me.”
“Want to go talk to them? Introduce me to your grandparents?” Ashley asked. “I came dressed to please family members tonight.”
Craig looked her over, realizing that that he hadn’t even noticed her clothes. He wasn’t seeing the details lately. “You look nice,” Craig managed to say, taking in how her clothes weren’t vintage or had a punky edge. She looked more grown up in her grey tweed pants and black cardigan. She was a little less Ashley tonight, although he knew stuff like that didn’t matter. It must just be the night. He didn’t feel like himself either but he doubted it was the black dress pants and button down shirt.
“Craig? Want to stand with Joey?” Ashley questioned after she didn’t get a reply. She stared into his eyes, looking for some answer but she just got a vacant stare in return. Every once in awhile she would see his eyes flicker and her heart ached. She could only imagine all of his emotions, all trying to find their way out.
“I can’t make up my mind about anything,” he whispered to her and she took his hand and led him over to his stepfather.
Craig zoned out while the others made small talk. He would come around to talk with a relative and receive a hug, then drifted out again once he felt it was safe to not be ‘normal’. This was going to exhaust him. He was mixed with relief and dread once the time came to go back into the viewing room. Naturally, Joey sat next to him. He barely noticed that Ashley was cautious to take the seat on the other side of him, but Caitlin encouraged her.
Craig immediately took Ashley’s hand once the service started. He stared around the room and focused on various details in the room; the shadows that formed from the soft lighting, the green specks in the light grey carpet, or the patterns in the wooden panels on the wall. He had to do something. The whole situation made him feel raw. Joey told him that this was supposed to be a private time for the family to grieve; it was more personal. He was right about it feeling personal, Craig silently agreed. The whole thing felt invasive. Like he was in some surgery and they were trying to pull the emotions out of him. But once they went in and yanked a reaction out of him, he wasn’t sure if he could stop the tears or the screaming. It was like an operation gone wrong and the blood might never cease to stop flowing. His wounds were that deep, didn’t they understand? So he had to check himself out of this situation.
He snapped to attention when the minister asked the family members to share memories of Albert Manning. He hoped it wasn’t like school and he’d be called on. Even if he wasn’t called on, he had a feeling he was expected to say something. He squeezed Ashley’s hand so tight he thought she might cry out and barely heard his relatives re-telling their favorite memories of his father. When they bowed down their heads to pray, he couldn’t help but pray for it to be over.
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“At least that’s over with,” Craig declared as he undid a few buttons on his shirt and sank down onto the living room couch. He felt the couch shift and could smell the slight scent of jasmine perfume. He didn’t even have to tear his eyes from the blank TV screen to know it was Ashley.
“Did it help any?” Ashley asked after a moment of silence.
“Made it more real, that’s for sure,” Craig said and didn’t move a muscle. He didn’t even blink.
“Each day will get easier,” Joey offered as he sat down on the other side of Craig. “You just need to give it time.”
Craig sighed. He had been doing a lot of sighing lately. He felt so heavy on the inside. He was surprised he had the strength to get up and go to the visitation service with the rest of his father’s family.
“You know it’s weird…I don’t really know my own family. I mean my dad’s side. I feel like we’re all being fake. I thought they would want to talk to me about what happened or ask about the past few years but everyone just kind of avoided the subject,” Craig observed.
“Craig, you can still see them whenever you want,” Joey had to reassured and tried to ignore some strange shift in Craig‘s face and that flicker of anger in his eyes. “They are your family and they care about you.”
Craig tried to keep his mind from going there, to that place where he questioned why this had to happen. Maybe it was Joey’s fault, like his dad had always said. It should have just been him and his father. Then this wouldn’t have happened. He felt like his brain never stopped that search for answers. It was a journey and just when he thought he would fall from exhaustion, something kept pushing him on.
“I think I did everything wrong,” Craig sighed.
“No. No, you didn’t,” Caitlin said firmly and joined them. She handed Craig a bottle of water but it remained unopened in his hands.
“What I should have done is called the cops the moment he threatened it.”
They were silent for a moment. Then Ashley stated softly, “Maybe you didn’t know he was serious.”
“I thought he was doing it to get my attention. To get me to come over. I remember thinking about calling the police. I remember thinking about calling you, Joey. I really didn’t think he would do it.”
“I know,” Joey agreed. “It’s not your fault.”
“Why do that to me? Why make me come over and hear it happen?”
“I think he just wanted to say goodbye and let you know that he’s sorry for what he did to you. It was his way of tying loose ends,” Joey offered. He knew the guessing game of why Albert committed suicide would continue to haunt Craig and none of his suggestions would bring him any closer to coming to terms with his passing, at least not now.
“That makes sense, Craig,” Ashley chimed in, eager to give out a few helpful words. She had no idea how to ease his pain.
“I can’t believe that he thought that this was for the best,” Craig mumbled and rubbed his head. He was having a hard time controlling what he said. He knew he couldn’t control what he was thinking; there was no way of keeping that in order. But for the most part he could control what he said. But not now, it all just fell out.
“I thought he just wanted to get my attention. Get me to come over.”
“I understand,” Ashley whispered back.
“He’s such an asshole,” Craig stated bitterly. The anger was returning to him now and in a way he found it refreshing. At least with the anger he felt alive. “Well, he showed me didn’t he?”
“Excuse me?” Joey questioned. It was hard to follow this kid’s thought processes sometimes.
“We were always doing shit to hurt each other. He used to beat the crap out of me so I had to come here and I know he resented me for it. He ignored me for a few months, I didn’t spend Christmas with him, and everything else. I can’t even keep track of it. We just had that fight. And now this. He won.”
“Your dad had a lot of issues, a lot which had nothing to do with you. Or me even,” Joey tried to explain. “None of this is your fault. I don’t think he blames you at all.”
Craig shook his head and rocked back and forth several times as he tried to process this. They didn’t understand. They didn’t have to live with his dad and they weren’t there that night. All the memories were crashing into him now, angry waves that would knock him over if he was standing up right.
“I always used to wish he’d punch me in the mouth and break my jaw so my mouth would have to be wired shut. Then I wouldn‘t say the things I do,” Craig said with a bitter laugh and brushed away a tear. He caught sight of the disturbed looks. “Or I’d do that to him and he’d stop.” They were still giving him that look. “It’s just thoughts! I don’t mean any of them.”
Craig glanced around the room at their faces. Ashley refused to look up from the floor and he opened his mouth, but couldn’t find the words to explain. He glanced over at Joey, who return his gaze with sympathetic eyes and rubbed his knee reassuringly. Craig started to kick off his dress shoes, his sharp movements full of frustration. Then he sighed heavily for what felt like the hundredth time since they got home.
“You look exhausted,” Caitlin couldn’t help but say. The bags under his eyes got darker each day. It was obvious how much baggage this kid was carrying around.
“Maybe you should head up to bed,” Joey encouraged. “You need to rest up for tomorrow.”
“Oh you have no idea how much I’m looking forward to that,” Craig gripped about the funeral. He felt Ashley’s hand on the back of his neck, softly caressing him. He was still tense. “I hate that I have to do all this. It doesn’t help!”
“It will in the long run,” Joey tried to explain. “But no pressure. We don’t want to force you to do something you can’t handle. But I really think it would help you to attend.”
“I know I have to go. What kind of son would I be if I didn’t go? They all think I’m a terrible son, I know it. I know it too,” Craig said and squeezed the couch cushion. “I can’t get my mind around this. Nothing makes any sense.”
“Hey, let’s go upstairs and listen to some music. It might help mellow you out,” Ashley encouraged.
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Craig re-entered his bedroom, feeling a little awkward in his flannel pajama bottoms and old concert t-shirt. He felt anxiety about that fade as he realized he had more important things to worry about. They were encouraging him to sleep and that meant nightmares. He went for the top drawer and pulled a pill bottle out of one of his socks. He glanced at his bedroom door that was left ajar before twisting off the bottle top. Joey was strict about following the orders on the medication bottles.
“One doesn’t knock me out. I need another,” Craig explained as he popped a pill in his mouth and swallowed it easily without water. As he put the bottle away he swore he felt the calmness start to wash over him, but it must just be the relief of knowing that he had a little chemical help.
Ashley pushed play on the CD player, clicked through several of the tracks, and lowered the volume. “No more Neutral Milk Hotel for you. I know how you get. You’ll be up writing songs all night,“ Ashley said and smiled a little, remembering their heartfelt discussions about music and the energy that would fill the room when they were working on a song together.
“Mazzy Star is my chill out music,” Ashley explained and watched Craig lay down. For the first time that night she actually felt like she was helping and this pleased her. She laid down beside him, on top of the blankets and still in her street clothes. She wanted to ask her mother if she could spend the night but she already knew the answer to that. It didn’t matter how much she explained that he needed her there with him. But at least she could be here for another half hour. She could get him to sleep, she told herself as she leaned over to flip off the bedside lamp.
“No,” the word just slipped out of Craig’s mouth and he started to sit up. He watched Ashley turn to look at him and he realized how stupid his new fear was. So he laid back down, trying not to think about dead people, ghosts, and blood.
“Hey, are you okay?” Ashley asked as the room grew darker. She could still see his tense facial expression. The door was ajar and the light from the hall spilled into a sharp triangle on the floor and prevented the whole room from being washed over in darkness.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” he managed to say. He rubbed his sore eyes.
“Should I turn out the hall light? Can you sleep with the light on?”
“Can you leave it on?” Craig asked, barely feeling any shame. He had pretty much accepted that this was his reality and with that, the shame was starting to wash away. He had crazy reasoning but, hey, it was working for him.
“I can leave it on,” Ashley soothed. She rolled over on her side so she could watch Craig. He was laying on his back, eyes staring up at the ceiling, and hands folded up and resting on his stomach.
“The sleeping pills haven’t been working too well lately,” Craig said softly. “Sometimes they put me to sleep but I can’t sleep all night.”
“Maybe you can sleep with me here,” Ashley suggested. She reached over and pried apart his clasped hands. She took his hand and curled her fingers around his. “Just want to be right by your side. Right by your side,” she sang along softly to “Bells Ring” and let the music take her away. The melody was swelling and the guitar taking them closer to the end of the song.
“Do you pray?” Craig asked as the songs transitioned. Religion had never really come up in their discussions. If it did, it was more political and not personal.
“Uh, sometimes I guess. Not too often. I’m not…I don’t follow any specific religion.”
“Yeah, I don’t pray either. Until all this happened. It’s kind of selfish why I do it though. I just want the pain to go away.”
“That’s not selfish,” Ashley said and Craig saw the emotion in her eyes. He wondered if this was too much for her to handle; Craig knew that she was the type to take in everyone’s emotions, try to relate to them and then heal them.
The next question to break the silence was Craig inquiring “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen one. I keep an open mind about it though. Do you?” Ashley replied.
“I think he’s haunting me. I mean…I haven’t seen anything. But he would haunt me, I bet.”
“No. He doesn’t want to hurt you anymore. I don’t think he ever really wanted to hurt you. I mean…I know it happened but I don’t think it was planned. But he’s gone and he’s at peace now. And I know that sounds stupid and it’s all you’ve been hearing. But he’s not here.”
“I hope not,” Craig sighed.
“Let’s talk about something to give you sweet dreams.”
“What would that be?”
“Me of course,” Ashley said with a smile. “Let’s talk about the year-end dance. I know it‘s far away but you know there will be one.”
Craig looked over at her for the first time since she had turned off the lights and laid down. “So you are going with me?”
“Nah, I was thinking about asking…Sully.”
“Can we get a hotel room?” Craig whispered, dismissing her joke.
“You have to have a credit card,” Ashley argued with a playful smile.
“So I’ll use Joey’s.”
“Sounds like plan,” she agreed and noticed that his voice was slurred with sleepiness some. “The Westin or The Hilton?”
“Westin. We’ll get the most expensive suite there. There will be champagne and room service. I’ve always thought that would be great to not have to leave the bed for a day. There’s no reason why we would have to leave that room. The world would be gone,” Craig said and felt himself smile for the first time in days. These thoughts were the first sanctuary he had. “It be our world in that room.”
“Well, what I want to know is what kind of transportation we’ll have. I’m not arriving to prom in my mom’s station wagon. You know how important appearance is to me,” Ashley joked and for a moment they felt themselves again. It was strange what this situation had done to them.
“We’ll take Joey’s car,” Craig immediately said. “I can’t wait until I have my license and can take that baby out.”
Ashley giggled. “Somehow I’m not sure that will happen.”
“What are you going to wear?”
“Something vintage. We’ll have to do lots of shopping. You’ll have that disheveled look to you, rock star. And I want something...20’s inspired maybe. That would be cool.”
“What if you can’t find the perfect vintage dress and you have to go to the mall? What would you wear then?”
Ashley noticed his eyes were closed now. “A long black dress.”
“Oh, black. Of course. Burgundy maybe?”
“Maybe.”
“Something low-cut?”
“That works. You can come with and give your expert opinion. It might be fun to be glamorous for one night. Black classy dress. Maybe something with a shimmer to it,” Ashley paused and looked over at Craig. His breathing was slower now. He still clutched her hand and she could feel his stomach rise and fall with each breath. "You'll be okay," Ashley reassured as she untangled her hand from his and quietly exited the room.
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Craig didn’t notice Joey at first. He was too busy trying to prepare himself for this. As his foot thumped on the floor nervously, he went over in his mind the exact order of events that would happen today. Sometimes he went over them in detail, reminding himself of the order of the funeral service and when he was supposed to sit or stand. Nothing was going to prepare him for this.
“How are you doing, buddy?” Joey greeted warmly and sat down on the bed beside his stepson. He wasn’t surprised to find Craig awake, but was shocked that it had been a quiet night.
“I’m trying to figure out how I’m going to do this,” Craig replied, his gaze shifting around the room but he wasn’t seeing anything. He hadn’t been seeing anything for hours, even though sometimes he moved from his bed to the window to look out.
“You don’t have to do this. If you can’t handle it…”
“No, I have to. Can you imagine what people would say?”
“They’d say you have been through a lot and aren’t ready.”
“I’m never going to be ready.”
Joey rubbed Craig’s knee in an attempt to get his foot to stop bopping around. “I think this will help.”
Craig nodded slowly. “Maybe.”
“You want to take a shower and then come down for some food before we take off?”
He just kept nodding as he got to his feet and headed for the bathroom. At least the bathroom would give him some privacy. He knew he wasn’t going to be getting much of that today, he realized as he turned on the shower. Today was the day when people arrived at his home to support him or whatever it was that they were there for.
Craig stood in front of the bathroom mirror and watched it fog. He barely recognized himself. He was sure that everyone else felt the same way. They knew that he was a bomb site. He swore that if he concentrated hard enough at his reflection, he would start to disappear. And that was how it was too, there were parts of him that just weren’t there anymore.
“I’m not there anymore,” he whispered to his reflection and put his hand on the glass.
---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ----------
“I thought you said he was awake,” Caitlin remarked a half hour later. She started on the breakfast dishes, but left a box of cold cereal, bowl, and spoon out for Craig. He still hadn’t come down.
“He was. He went right into the bathroom,” Joey said and glanced down at his watch. “I better go check on him.”
“Craig,” Joey called as he climbed the stairs. “You almost ready, buddy?”
Joey paused at the bathroom door and listened to the sound of the shower still running. He knocked on the door and light heartedly called out, “You‘ve been in there for a half hour. I can go grab Caitlin and she can tell you about water preservation, whether you want to hear it or not.”
Joey knocked again, a bit louder. “Craig, you doing okay?” Joey felt the panic shoot through his body and he quickly entered the bathroom. He half expected Craig to be unconscious on the bathroom tiles, having used the shower as a way to buy him more time to take a fatal overdose. Caitlin and Snake frequently picked up on his worry and reassured him that his stepson wasn’t suicidal. Joey tried to tell himself this as well but deep down he knew Craig was impulsive and he was hurting and that had proved in the past to be a deadly combo.
“Craig, we have to get going soon,” Joey reminded from the doorway. He still didn’t get a response. “Okay, you really have me worried.”
Joey decided to take the chance upsetting the boy and entered the bathroom. He could see Craig through the semi-transparent shower curtain. He was crouched down in the tub, like he was cowering from the a heavy rain shower and not the steady stream of water from a shower head. “Craig.”
Still no response or movement. Joey pulled the curtain back enough to reach in to turn off the water and noticed that the water had run ice cold. Craig didn’t even lift his head up when the water was shut off. Joey pulled the curtain back and draped a towel around the boy.
“You must be freezing,” Joey said and rubbed Craig’s shoulders. Craig finally looked up but didn’t say a word. Joey noticed that his teeth were chattering and he grabbed another towel from the rack and gently rubbed the boys wet hair.
“You zoned out huh?” Joey asked, looking over the boy curled up in the tub. He was greeted by more silence. All he could hear was the blood pounding into his ears as his heart rate sped up. Was this kid okay? “Can you say something to me, please?”
“I’m okay,” Craig mumbled and started to stand with Joey’s help. His body was returning to him and it felt like his brain was thawing out. He pulled the towel tighter around him, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “Can you leave me alone?”
“Okay,” Joey decided, satisfied with his grieving stepson’s ability to stand on his own and how he seemed to be back in reality here with him. “Get dressed and come downstairs so you can eat something, alright?”
Craig nodded. “I know we have to do this.”
---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ----------
“It’s so weird after a funeral,” Craig commented.
His friends immediately stopped chatting and looked at him. Craig wasn’t participating in their somewhat forced discussion of a popular band playing downtown. They weren’t sure he was even listening.
“It figures that they would throw a big party on the one day when you can’t make it,” Craig continued. He felt foggy but picked up on a few shocked expressions. So he made an attempt to explain. “That one dude in The Big Chill said that. Remember that movie? A friend kills himself, in the bathroom, slits his wrists. They don’t show that of course but in the opening of the movie they had this nice shot of his stitched up wrists and then the scene fades to similar criss-crossed pattern in a field.”
Craig glanced around. “I know that sounds weird. Unless if you’ve seen it. It’s just…I dunno. One of those subtle things in movies.”
“It’s a good movie. From the 80’s right? It had all the big stars from back then,” Ashley replied.
“Must have been 80’s night at Joey Jeremiah’s,” Ellie joked, noticing how uncomfortable everyone looked.
“Every Saturday is 80’s night at Joey’s. I was here for the airing of The Breakfast Club. He decided I was Bender,” Sean remarked and rolled his eyes at cornball Joey. “You remind him of Allison, El. It was weird.”
“Anyway,” Craig continued. “So this guy slit his wrists in the tub, and it’s his funeral. All his friends gathering together. And at the funeral party, one dude says ‘it figures that they would throw a big party on the one day when you can’t make it. You put on a real good show.’ And the chick from Fatal Attraction was in it and it was her house where he did it, the suicide. Slitting his wrists. And she says “We only do this for people who kill themselves in our bathroom.”
Spinner broke out into nervous laughter. For the most part, he had no clue what Craig was talking about and his somewhat fragmented telling of the story didn‘t help any. He was beginning to wonder if Craig had totally lost it. He abruptly stopped laughing when Ashley glared at him. She looked over to Craig to see if he was put off by Spinner’s giggling, and she saw that he was staring off again, his head resting on his hand.
Craig was sick of the act. It felt like everyone was fake. There was his father’s family who didn’t address the death or why it happened. It almost felt to him like they wanted to act like it was natural causes; a heart attack because of stress at his father’s job. He was such a hardworking man. And a dedicated father. Craig had almost laughed out loud over that one. The bitterness in him was harsh and almost felt like acid eating at his heart. Who were they kidding? His father used to smack him around and Craig left because he couldn’t handle it anymore. And when they both realized things would never change his father flamed out and shot himself. That was what the real story was, Craig had thought angrily.
His friends were being fake in a way as well. But there’s was the more walking on eggshells type of fake. He knew they didn’t know what to say now or at the church for the funeral. They had slowly trickled into the lobby of the church, each pausing to give him some words of condolence. He was surprised by some of them. He had always thought of Paige as Ashley’s friend or Spinner‘s girlfriend, just a mutual friend to him. But there she was, pulling him into an embrace.
“I think half our class is going to show up,” Paige had quietly spoken into his ear, trying to reassure him that he had people here for him. She couldn’t imagine losing both your parents.
“They are all showing up for the drama?” Craig asked as he broke away.
“No, to get out of school, silly,” was Paige’s quick and witty reply.
“That’s why I’m here. You know I never liked you much to begin with,” Ellie had chimed in, hoping for just once slight smile. Her friend seemed so different.
His band mates Jimmy, Marco, and Spinner were there with serious expressions. He was used to Spinner’s goofy grin and it was a little surreal to see him so stoic in a suit and sober gaze as he gave apologized for Craig‘s loss. He wondered if things would ever return to normal, where he was greeted with a bad joke. They had arrived after Ashley, Sean, and Ellie. Ashley was the first to arrive and surprised him with the news that her mother would be attending. He felt a twinge of shock and then a slight warmth that she cared enough to show up. It was then that he realized how cold he felt on the inside. Cold, empty, and going through the motions.
That would explain why he was completely drained now, sitting here in Joey’s living room while family and friends dropped by. Craig found it hard to focus on them. He had his right hand wrapped around his left wrist and twisted it back and forth. He could barely feel the pressure and the burn. He wasn’t sure if he was looking to hurt himself or not. It was too much work to assess the situation. He wasn’t feeling much of anything. Maybe that was the problem.
Caitlin kneeled down beside Craig and touched his knee. “Can I get you anything to eat or drink?”
Craig shook his head in return.
“I keep checking on those brownies to make sure Spinner hasn’t eaten them all. I brought them for you, you know,” Ashley added.
They got a sigh from Craig in response.
“You might feel better if you ate,” Ellie chimed in. “Remember when we were working in the darkroom for hours that one day and I hadn’t eaten since breakfast? I went to eat and then was able to get my good print.”
Craig stared at her like he was trying to decipher what she was saying. “I don’t really have a reason to eat though.”
“People have been bringing over great food,” Caitlin tried.
“Fine,” Craig muttered, stood up, and headed out for the kitchen.
Craig dished up some food from the various Tupperware containers and tableware. He could feel them watching. They wanted to know if he was so depressed he wouldn’t eat. So he piled hot dishes and salads onto his plate. He was going to walk back over to the couch, but decided to head upstairs instead. He decided the bathroom was the best place for privacy and he strangely wasn‘t disturbed by the idea. He couldn’t eat with people around. He closed the toilet and sat down. He made an attempt to eat. Food made him nauseous. He tilted his head back and sighed heavily.
He stared ahead blankly for awhile. Every once in awhile he could force himself to take a few bites. Then he gave up and set the plate down on the bathroom floor. By that point there were knocks on the door.
He then heard Joey’s voice. “Craig, you doing okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“How about if you eat with us?”
“I’m fine,” Craig reassured and Joey noticed more annoyance in his voice this time.
“Craig, you need your friends and family,” Joey said after a few moments of silence
“I’m fine,” Craig was quick to reply. He could feel Joey still out side the door minutes later.
“Craig, are you sick?”
“I’m fine.”
“Then come out and be with us,” Joey encouraged.
Craig stood up and kicked at the open air. He opened the door. “What?”
“Why’d you lock yourself in the bathroom?” Joey asked and touched Craig’s arm.
“I don’t know. I’m tired.”
“Do you want to lay down for awhile?”
“Stop with this. Please. I’ll go downstairs. I’m fine,” Craig reassured in an exhausted tone and returned to his place on the couch. He had left Ashley sitting there before, starting in on her lunch.
Ashley froze, her fork inches from her mouth. She broke her gaze from Craig’s and put the food in her mouth. She wasn’t sure what to say. Did he eat upstairs? Did he flush it down the toilet? She slowly kept eating, rarely looking up from her plate. She could feel Craig staring at her.
“The pasta salad is good,” she chose to say after the silence stretched on. “Did you try it?”
Craig reached for a baby tomato on her plate and ate it, chewing it slowly and trying not to think about the texture. His appetite was completely gone. He hoped it wasn’t too obvious that it took much effort to swallow.
“Someone brought lasagna,“ Ashley said and pointed to it with her fork. She was trying not to think about how strange it was to watch her boyfriend nibble on food like a starved teenage girl on some deranged diet. She was used to seeing him scarf down french fries and pizza. She had overheard the conversations between Joey and Caitlin and Craig’s appearance said as well; he wasn’t eating or sleeping. She didn’t really blame him, it had to be hard to do anything.
Ashley extended the plate over a few inches, “I can always get more.”
“I can’t,” Craig strained to reply, his voice barely above a whisper. He watched her nod in response and look away. She didn’t want to see him like this, he knew and he didn’t blame her. He felt like an accident scene and he knew that if he looked across the room there would be Joey and Caitlin hovering. They were acting like his parents, encouraging him to carry on some sort of a daily existence but there was something more. It seemed like they were especially watchful, like doctors on call for a patient in intensive care and in a way he felt like he was that patient. He could relate to the uncertainty; he really wasn't sure he could pull through this.