prince stephen; part three.

    

Winded, Stephen entered the building just as the door was about to close. He sidestepped a mousy brunette who held the door for him and headed down the hallway. He didn't bother glancing at the announcement board as he rushed down the hall which would have told him his meeting had been cancelled for the week.
         Shortly after The Accident Stephen had sought an escape from his house. Away from his mother's drinking and sobbing and his father's lack of emotion. When he Google'd "what to do when your older brother dies" the internet deity informed him that he should find some kind of therapy or support group. Seeing as he couldn't afford therapy and would rather not tell his parents what he was up to he started his search.
         He'd decided to attend a group in the town over, that way the likelihood of him encountering anyone he knew would be diminished. As he walked into the room, he noticed that there weren't very many people there yet. He didn't recognize the few that were there either. But that happened. Every couple of weeks or so brought in new faces and cycled out older ones. They tended to either sink further into depression or finally move on with their lives and abandon their old life preserver.
        Those that were in the room were scattered. There was a set of two sitting in the corner, chatting. There were three more sitting at random intervals, drinking coffee and occasionally glancing around the room. One man had on a dingy black leather jacket, his hair was short and choppy. Like it had been long recently and someone had stuck a bowl on his head and cut around it. On his face he wore a five o'clock shadow and his jeans had bandanas sewed behind where the holes were. He was shaking his right leg up and down, up and down, up and down making his anxiety obvious. He had a cigarette in his hand and was rolling it between his fingers, probably contemplating going outside to smoke it.
        As Stephen watched The Leather Jacket fidget in his seat he saw a small girl slip into the room out of the corner of his eye. She had mousy brown hair that hung in her face and a faded blue jacket with the hood pulled up. Her eyes were round and she kept looking at the floor as she made her way to a seat in the back. He'd never seen her before either and vaguely wondered who it was that she had lost.
        When a man walked in and stepped to the front of the room and cleared his throat for attention is when Stephen realized something was wrong. It wasn't Terri who normally ran the Family Loss group but a short, squat man with a shaved head and glasses.
         "Hey guys, I'm Ray and we're going to get started here in a few minutes. Looks like we've got a pretty small group tonight so if you few in the back wouldn't mind moving closer to the front so we don't have to shout, that would be great."
          There was a sound of chairs screeching against the tile as those few stood up out of their seats and made their way forward. Stephen began to fidget with the sleeve of his shirt. He didn't recognize a single person in here and it wasn't like Terri to miss a meeting. He was just about to stand up and walk out when the Mousy Haired Girl sat down next to him. Her hood had fallen down and she'd tucked the hair on the left side of her face behind her ear, showing him her profile.
        She was incredibly pale and there were blue smudges under her eyes, as if someone had pressed their thumbs there until it bruised. She was stick thin and her clothes hung off her. But she had elegantly long legs and they stretched out in front of her, ending in a pair of beat up black Chucks. He shifted in his seat, causing the leather to rub together and make an awkward noise. Her face turned to his and she gave him a small, closed mouth smile that went all the way up to her eyes.
         Given a frontal view Stephen noticed more about her. Her eyes were a lovely gray color. They almost matched the overcast tone from outside. She had full lips that stood out against the paleness of her face, conflicting with the scrawniness of her body. They hinted at what she'd looked like before she lost the weight, and Stephen wondered why she would let herself get so thin.
         As he opened his mouth to introduce himself Ray closed the door with a loud THUD and walked up to the front of the room.

prince stephen; part two.

Ellie wandered around her bedroom listlessly, picking things up and putting them down without actually seeing them. The angel figurine her grandmother had given her on her 12^th birthday. The paint had faded and the eyes were hollow and empty, the gold paint on the halo was chipped in places, showing the dingy porcelain underneath. A plaque she’d been awarded in 8^th grade for a poem she wrote about her father. No one in the school knew that she’d made up the entire thing. She didn’t even know her father. As she walked by it hanging on the wall, her fingers grazed it, making smudges where the dust had settled. An ancient teddy bear, received long ago from one of her mother’s many boyfriends sat on a shelf, leaning dangerously to one side, as if contemplating making the fatal plunge off the end. Upon touching the animal a cloud of dust rose, tickling her nose and causing a small sneeze. Had she been gone so long that such a thick layer of dust had accumulated? Or had she been so caught up in numbing everything that she’d never noticed?

            Brown Robe’s cackle floated down the hallway, followed by another hacking fit.

            “No fucking wonder,” Ellie murmured. “As much as that bitch smokes.”

            As she said this she passed in front of her full length mirror, raising her hand to herself in an ironic, mock salute.

            In her hand was a burning cigarette.

            She sat down hard on her bed, tossing the smoke into an abandoned Coke can on the nightstand. Lord knows how long that had been there. She picked it up and shook it, feeling other, long ago discarded butts sloshing around inside. Ew.

            Stretching out, she started up at the familiar, water-stained ceiling. She traced the swirls in her mind, making up designs as if they were clouds. That one over there looked like a dolphin, its tail flicking playfully in the sun. The one in the corner looked like Saturn, the curve of the ceiling making it appear to have rings. She sighed.

            “If I don’t get out of here I’m going to fucking lose it,” she said aloud to no one.

            Without pausing to think anymore, she hopped up off the bed and grabbed her jacket. She walked briskly down the hall and out the front door before her mother even had the opportunity to open her mouth. Not that she would anyway. She had just nodded out in the chair.

           As she stepped outside a breeze caught the screen door and slammed it into the side of the trailer. She looked up and noted that the sky was overcast and it smelled like rain. She pulled the hood up on her jacket and took a right out of the trailer park. Moving at a brisk pace, wished she still had her I-Pod. Knowing this was a moot point she just shrugged to herself and picked up the pace. Yet another thing she'd pawned to get a fix. Ah, well. Her mind spun in circles trying to decide where to go. After having been in county for the better part of 9 months she wasn't used to having the freedom to make that decision. 

           "If that stupid bitch hadn't run her fucking mouth..."  she murmured under her breath.

           But she cut off the self talk when she realized where it was headed. She'd spent too long blaming others for problems she'd caused for herself. Didn't make it hurt less, but holding a grudge against Tiffany wasn't going to change what happened. 

         While she walked her mind played back the last day she'd spent in the county lock up. Laying on her top bunk, she had her towel propped up behind her head like a pillow. She'd been reading some trashy romance novel and half listening to the two women underneath her having a Bible study. Her mind didn't register the jingle the PO's keys made as she pulled them out of her pocket, followed by the loud "KA-THUNK" noise the door made as the lock turned and it opened. Ms Barnes came in with her usual swagger and yelled out,        

         "Madding! Bunk 'n junk!" 

          But Ellie had learned to tune out the PO's and the noise that usually accompanied them and hadn't really heard. Ms. Barnes walked up to the bars and smacked her keys against them near her head.       

         "Madding, did you hear me? I said get your shit!" 

          Ellie's heart had jumped and she started, nearly falling off the bed. The girl in the bunk across from her, Helen, laughed. 

           " 'Ey girl, if you don't wanna leave, I'll go for ya." The rest of the block laughed along too.

            "Hey, can I get yer shit paper?" "Trade me for yo' sheet, it's betta." "The blanket you got is warmer, lemme get it, you can give 'em mine." "You got toothpaste left?"

           Ellie had laughed as she swung down off the side of the bunk. She handed Helen her toilet paper, books, paper, pens, and soap.

           "Split this with Ms Cass and Teresa," she'd said. Those were the two who had been conducting the Bible study beneath her. Ms Cass had loved Ellie from the moment she met her and Ellie had called her Ms Cass.

            "Hunny, we're in jail. You ain't gotta call me miss anything," she'd said.

            "But you're older than me," Ellie had replied. The few years Ellie had spent with her grandparents as a child had at the least taught her manners.

          The memory ended when she arrived at an intersection and had to decide which way to go. Left went towards the downtown area which had the Walmart and mall. To the right was a more residential area, dominated by a high school and a large community building. As the light changed she started to go left but at the last minute dashed back through the crosswalk and headed towards the community center instead.

The sun had just started to set when she walked up to the door and pulled it open. It had almost closed when a young man came jogging up the steps towards her. Ellie pushed the door open and held it for him.

         "Thanks," he said. 

         She smiled at him.

prince stephen; part one.

She sat at the kitchen table, absently kicking her legs back and forth between the rungs of the chair. It was one of those high tables that made it so even the leggiest people had trouble getting their feet to touch the floor. Her hair hung in stringy tangles around her face, the remnants of a ponytail working itself free in the back.

            “Ellie, hand me a beer out of the fridge.”

            Leaning back on two legs, the girl silently reached into the ancient Frigidaire and extracted a brown bottle of cheap beer.

            The woman, her hair equally as dingy, was wearing a brown robe and pink bunny house slippers. She smiled a grimacing pantomime, revealing teeth colored with years of nicotine and drugs.

            “You bein’ clean, I didn’t think you’d come back thisway,” she muttered.

            Ellie shrugged. “You could get clean too, y’know.”

            She laughed a rasping, hacking sound that shook her entire body. “Yeah. I could.”

~

“Stephan, your dinners getting cold!” his mother yelled up the stairs. The boy, more a man really, ignored the harpy’s voice, and concentrated on the guitar in his hands. It belonged to his brother Thomas, 4 years his senior. If he had still been living Stephan would have gotten an ass-kicking for even thinking about touching the strings. As it stood though, Stephan figured he’d rather face Thomas’ ghost haunting him about the guitar, than letting him go altogether.

Ironically, it was Stephan who made the magic happen. Thomas had bought the guitar to pick up chicks, mostly. Somewhere in his mind, he vaguely wanted to be a rock star too. But not because he loved the music, no. He craved the fame and fortune and pussy that went along with it. Stephan had enjoyed his brother’s attempts at notoriety, quietly sitting through his jam sessions and encouraging him appropriately. But then there had been The Accident.

So now Stephan had the guitar, not wanting to do anything with it other than create something new, something stirring. He closed his eyes against the noise of the outside world and continued to strum and sing along quietly. Everything he played sounded the same, he realized. The notes were all bluesy wails that faded into nothingness. The words were falling from his mouth without thought behind them.

            “STEPHAN GET DOWN HERE NOW!” his mother’s voice screeched, cutting his solitude with a sharp blade. With a sigh, he set down the instrument. He didn’t want to play anymore anyway. He realized, as the cloud of concentration slipped away, that he’d been singing about his brother.

~

            “Ellie, hand me a beer,” her voice rasped. Her hair, falling loosely in clean waves around her face, reflected gold in the stray beams of sunlight that made stripes across the room. The brown-robed figure in front of her was scrubbing the counter and listening to the radio. I’m a spy… in the house of love… I know the dream… that you’re… dreamin’ of… I know the words… that you long to hear… I know your deepest, secret fears…I know everything… everything you do…everywhere you go, everyone you know…

The Lizard King’s voice cried, Unsettling as this was, it gave her a small comfort knowing that there was someone out there that knew what was inside her soul.

            Brown Robe pulled a pack of Reds out of her pocket and lit one with the flick of her orange Bic. “This shit’s creepy,” she exclaimed as she exhaled. “Talkin’ about bein’ there and knowin’ things he shouldn’t.”

            Ellie shrugged. “I like it. It’s beautiful.” Brown Robe cocked an eyebrow at her, leaning one arm against the counter, viciously sucking the smoke out of the cigarette in her hand. “It ain’t like you to care much about one thing or th’other. You suddenly got an ear for music? Miss Princess Lady here knows things now, huh? They teach you Music Appreciation 101 there at the jailhouse?” She cackled at her own wit, causing her lungs to seize, transforming it into a haggard cough

            “I didn’t say that,” Ellie softly murmured. “It’s just pretty, is all.”

            Brown Robe continued to cough and cackle simultaneously, producing a hideous cacophony of ghoulish sounds. As they subsided, she shuffled her way to the La-Z-Boy situated in front of the television. It was an ancient set, and one of the only pieces of actual furniture in the house. The couch had long ago been sent to the curb, where it sat for 8 months before the city finally came and hauled it off. During this interim it continued to sit next to the dumpster, and became a favorite hangout for the Mexican family down the street.

Folding chairs scattered haphazardly around a card table that sat in the corner and a coffee table almost too low for comfort, positioned to the left of the recliner. The wood was spotted with water rings and half-empty 75 cent Styrofoam cups from the Phillips up the hill.

            She eased herself into the chair in a catlike fashion, gingerly placing her weight into the seat. Giving a grunt of satisfaction, she popped the leg rest out. The T.V. was already on, sending out blue-green waves of reality colored garbage. Brown Robe leaned over the chair and grabbed a green plate. It was chipped on the side, from where someone had dropped it, and there were crackle lines through the center. She picked up a syringe and a white and blue capsule off the plate. Balancing the tray on her lap, she grabbed her spoon from between the seat cushions.

            As this balancing act carried on, Ellie sat hunched in the corner, sucking on a Camel Light and staring mutely at the T.V. in front of her.

~

            Dinner was always an interesting affair in the INSERTNAMEHERE household. Stephan stumbled down the stairs, already setting his mind into the autopilot mode it went into when forced to deal with his mother. And, as an added bonus, he noticed as he entered the kitchen, his sister and her husband and their 2.5 (Bertha, the dog) kids would be joining the affair.

            “What took you so long?” she demanded in that wheedling tone that mothers worldwide can all miraculously hit.

            “Guitar.” He always attempted to use one word responses when asked direct questions. She never actually listened to his response anyway; more used that moment to catch her breath.

            “Anjelica and Houston (no joke, one of those bizarre yet hilarious coincidences that occur frequently in human interaction. Their last name is Smith, not as cool) are here,” she continued, smiling graciously at the couple. This smile encompassed their children, Ariel and Jasper, a tow-headed terror duo. When separated the children were actually pretty charming, no more or less evil than normal kids. However, when Ariel, 2 years senior to her brother Jasper, got a hold of his willing mind and naïve nature… Well, suffice it to say that it was generally anything but pleasant.

            Stephan took his seat, awkwardly positioned in a triangle of his mother and his sister, with Houston on his left.

            “So, you as good on that thing as you think you are?” Anjelica started the conversation. It wouldn’t have truly been dinner at the INSERTNAMEHERE’s without a snide remark or two made in Stephan’s direction. Being the youngest child in some households afforded that child a certain comfort in the role as the baby. Not here. At one point it might have, but since Thomas was no longer there to diffuse the tension, there was no forced goodwill for the sake of the middle brother.

            “Guesso,” Stephan replied through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

            “Stephan, don’t talk with your mouthful,” his mother spat, more out of habit than actual concern.

            “So I hear we have some exciting news from you two,” Mother continued, looking meaningfully at Houston and Anjelica.

            Houston colored quickly, his ears turning an alarming shade of red in a short amount of time. He fiddled with his fork, picking it up and setting it down several times while clearing his throat. Anjelica rolled her eyes.

            “Oh honestly.” She sighed, a deep sound that encompassed her frustration and his ineptitude. “I’m pregnant. We’re having another baby.”

            Houston’s face, if possible, turned an even darker shade of red and he choked on the piece of pot roast he’d been chewing for the last five minutes.

            “Oh like they don’t know we have sex. We’ve been married five years and have two children. Where is it you think these brats come from? The stork?” she laughed, spearing a green bean with her fork and shoving it into her mouth viciously.

            “I’m not a brat mommy!” Ariel piped up, leaning over to look into her mother’s eyes.

            “Me neiver!” Jasper agreed.

            “No of course not, Mommy didn’t mean it,” Anjelica murmured absently, touching each child quickly on the cheek.

            Mother clapped her hands and forced a smile, going on as if Anjelica’s outburst hadn’t occured.  

            “Isn’t that wonderful? I’ve always wanted a house full of grandchildren.” She wiped a tear away, though Stephan figured it was more for show than actual emotion.

            Father just grunted and said, “Pass the mashed potatoes.”

                        No one said anything else for the rest of dinner. A comfortable quiet settled on the room as they finished their meal. Stephan and Mother cleared the dishes and she brought out a pie as Stephan began to load the dishwasher.

            “Who wants dessert?” she asked gaily. Tonight she was attempting to be her “Martha-Stewart” self. Mrs. INSERTNAMEHERE had several versions of herself, each one spiraling into an opposite direction. Stephan found her Martha-Stewart-Self the most irritating; as she embraced such a ridiculous persona that so far stepped out of the norm of reality as to be creepy.

            “Me! Me!” Ariel cried, jumping up and down on her chair, causing it to wobble back and forth precariously. Like clockwork, Jasper chimed in.

            “Me!me!” Their cries echoed back and forth, occasionally overlapping into a cacophony of childlike jabber that resembled the sound of a bird having its tail feather’s pulled out one by one.

            “Calm down children, Grammy will get it for you.” Mrs. INESERTNAMEHERE graciously served each of the children generous portions of cherry pie, which they immediately attacked with their forks. Within seconds their faces were covered with sticky red goo.

            “And an extra large slice for you darling,” she said as she handed Anjelica her plate. “Since you’re eating for two now.” She winked. Although Mrs. INESERTNAMEHERE had never really mastered the art of a sly wink and it came out looking more menacing than playful.

            “Glad at least one of us can give you grandkids ma,” Anjelica nearly shouted, so Stephan could hear her above the clink of the dishes in the kitchen. “What with Stephan being like he is and Thomas gone…”

            At the mention of her middle son’s name, Mrs. INSERTNAMEHERE’s face lost all color. Her hand trembled and she nearly dropped the pie pan. Mr. INSERTNAMEHERE reached out and caught it, barely, and set it on the table. He shot his daughter a glare and reached his hand out to his wife.

            She shook it off and absently patted his hand before abruptly turning and walking into the kitchen. Stephan stood there, hands clad in rubber gloves, clutching a plate and stared at his mother. She didn’t even register his presence, even though she’d stopped and was standing right next to him. A single pathetic sound passed through her lips, a wounded, tiny unearthly thing. She shuddered and tried to shake it off, reaching into the cabinet above the sink and drew out a bottle of whiskey.

            Her Martha-Stewart-Self reasserted itself temporarily and she reached into the cabinet for a tumbler. A healthy 3-fingers of whiskey purled into the glass and was immediately downed in one gulp. She repeated this process twice. The façade vanished.