He sat in my room silently as I wrote, and I listened tearfully as he recorded over Zac's last hotline message. I watched him detach himself, his sorry words devoid of tone or feeling. Then we both cried, one last cry before we willed ourselves to separate. Crying together, like this, was the only way we could get through the rest of the day with a front of stoicism. I wrote into the night, and when I woke up in the morning, I thought of the girl.
I stared at the window for a long time, feeling the cold air against my skin as I smoked my cigarettes. I took one pill to keep me calm, and without a word to anyone, I took a walk. I came to the store and I entered, finding a different woman at the counter.
"May I help you?" She asked, when I approached.
"Yeah, um... Is the girl that was here yesterday around?"
"Nissa? She should be in within the hour. Would you like to leave her a message or somethin'?"
"Hm..." I said. "Well, I wanted to talk to her in person, so I can wait..." I grabbed a magazine off the rack at the counter, "I'll read."
I paid for my magazine and I walked outside, sitting down on a bench in front of the store. I started smoking another cigarette and realized I had no intentions to read at all when I saw a picture of us on the cover. I was exhausted, and the skin on my face was completely dry from three days of crying. My tear ducts needed a rest. I closed my eyes for just a short moment and then I heard her voice.
"Hey, are you okay?"
I was startled. I looked up at her. "I'm fine. Just resting my eyes and smoking a cigarette."
"I think you fell asleep." She said. I looked down at my body, sprawled across the bench, and the cigarette in-between my fingers, burnt out with an inch of ash on the end. I suddenly became disoriented.
"What time is it?"
"One o'clock."
"Oh wow, I must've fallen asleep." I sat up and put my head in my hands, shaking out the dizziness. "I'm sorry, you must think I'm such a weirdo..."
"Maybe so, but you're an endearing weirdo."
I smiled. "I came to apologize for being so rude yesterday. I wasn't myself. But, of course, now I'm falling asleep on a bench in front of the store..."
"That's it." She said. "Two points against you. One more and I won't even be able to talk to you." She crossed her arms and turned away from me.
I could see she had a smile on her face. "Yeah, well, you know how it goes. I'm one of those dangerous rock star types that your parents have always warned you about." "Did you come to kidnap and deflower me?" She gasped.
I laughed out loud. "Don't you have work to do, or something?"
"Yeah, but I told Beth there was a homeless man on the bench that I needed to shoo off..." She grinned, "I know it's the winter and all, but I think you should head back to your cardboard box, now."
"You didn't really tell her that, did you?"
"No." She admitted, "She said you were waiting for me. I have the day off. I was just dropping by to get my paycheck."
I nodded in response.
"I'm Annissa, by the way." She said, holding out her hand.
I took it, accepting her greeting, "Taylor."
"So... You doing anything right now, Taylor?"
"Aside from avoiding my house? No."
"Want to go somewhere? It's a pretty nice day for February."
I hesitated a moment to mull the idea over in my head, and finally, I said, "Sure."
"Cool."
I stood up and grabbed my magazine.
"You reading something?"
"No. I fell asleep, apparently." I handed the zine to her, "You can have it. I hate magazines."
She laughed, "Why, thank you for this most precious gift."
We got in the car and she tossed the magazine in the back.
"Do you mind if I have a cigarette?"
"Go ahead. This car spews enough harmful fumes, I'm sure a little carbon monoxide would be an upgrade."
"Alright. Just as long as I'm not the cause of an explosion. I have to look nice tomorrow."
She started the car and the engine roared. "I bet you haven't ridden in a shit bucket like this before!" She shouted over the sound.
I thought about it for the second as we drove away, the car squealing and sputtering the whole time, and realized that she was right. In all my 21 years, I had never ridden in a vehicle that was any less than luxurious.
"I like her though," She said, patting the dashboard, "She's my bitch."
I took a drag on my cigarette, "So... where are we going?"
"To the park." She said, "To play on the swings."
I laughed again, "You rock."
I leaned back in my seat, cigarette in mouth, and stared silently out the window. For a few moments, we were quiet, and I slowly started to lose myself to introspection as the car rumbled on, flooding my ears. When I started to think about it, I felt like I wanted to cry all over again. I wondered if there would ever be a time when I wouldn't feel that way. It perplexed me, in a hugely profound way, that one day life just stopped. There had to be more to it than what we were offered. Wasn't there supposed to be some kind of Buddhist-form enlightenment that we all reached at the age of 85, as we lay on our death beds, thinking back upon our youth? Zac didn't have that chance. He wasn't lying on his death bed. He was a healthy, happy, eighteen year old boy. He was out with his girlfriend and he stepped on the crosswalk ahead of her. What life mission had he fulfilled that I hadn't? What kind of absolution could he possibly have been able to have with such short notice? Wasn't he scared?
I wiped my face hastily, and coughed out any frogginess in my throat. I wasn't going to cry all day. I got in this car because I wanted to forget about it, a little. I wasn't going to think at all. I was just going to enjoy the company of my new friend.
"So," I braved myself to say, "You're a Hanson fan?"
The words were so pathetic, quiet, sad. I coughed again and sucked on my cigarette.
"Yeah." She said, "But not like... you know... OMIGOD, Taylor Hanson, he's so hot! I just started listening to you guys, really. I haven't even seen you live. Which is pathetic, I know. You were playing around here just a few months ago. And I call myself a music fan."
"Well, that's okay. You've got me here, now. I'm trapped in this car until it stops, so you can do with me whatever you please. That's the stuff every Hanson fan wants." I grinned. "Type that one up on Hanson dot net."
"Hanson dot net?"
"Ah, I see, you're not even in the loop. That's cool."
"What the hell is that, your official website?"
"Yeah. Our fan club."
"You have a fan club?"
"Yes." I was taken aback by her tone. She began laughing. "What? Is there something wrong with that? Lots of bands have fan clubs!"
"You guys..." She said, sounding exasperated. "So what do I get if I join your fan club?"
I thought about it, "Preferred seating, Meet and Greets... Constant Hanson news... Updates from us..."
"Do I get to drive Taylor Hanson around in my shit bucket car?"
"No. You need a special talent for that."
"Well, rock on. Is there some kind of rumor mill I can now become involved in? I think the world needs to know that you smoke Parliament cigarettes." She pulled into a dirt road on the edge of town, and a parking space between some cars. There was a bit of snow on the ground, but not much. A few kids were having a snow ball fight in the distance. I stepped out of the car and lit up another cigarette. "Correction. Chain smokes Parliament cigarettes."
"Mmm." Was my response. I walked ahead of her to the swing set and sat down. I couldn't help it. I was crying. And it was just going to have to be that way.
She sat down beside me and continued on with her cheery chatter, swinging gently beside me. As she talked, the tears fell harder, and I began to think that this wasn't a very good idea, after all.
"Hey, Taylor? You okay?" She said, stopping her swing to be still like mine. I looked up at her briefly and she saw me crying. "Oh, Taylor." She reached toward me and I pushed her hand away, sniffling and wiping my face as I got up to leave.
"No..." I said, when she began to follow.
"Taylor..."
I crouched into the wooden playground, stepping through the maze and child-sized doorways. I came to a tower and I sat down on the edge of the step, looking up at the blue sky. I threw my cigarette over the balcony and collapsed backward, my arms splaying out beside me and my chest open. Tears dripped into my hair, and though I wanted to so desperately, I couldn't make a sound. I couldn't howl, cry, or scream. All I could do was silently stare into the center of the wooden tower above me and wonder why.
She followed me up, I could hear her walking across the wooden bridge. "Taylor..." She said, when she found me. "If you want me to leave, I'll leave. I'll take you home and we can forget the whole thing."
"I don't want you to leave."
She came into my tower and sat down next to me. "Then why do you walk away?" I shook my head and sat up, retracting my limbs inward as I let out a full sob.
"Taylor, come here." She said, wrapping her arms around me. Gently, she pulled me into her lap and began rocking me softly, "Just cry. It's the best thing you can do. Just cry."
I can't describe it, but being in her arms that day, and just crying like I was... it made me feel safe. Safe like how I felt as a child, when my mother let me sleep next to her in bed when nightmares haunted me. Except, there was no light here. No door to open to prove it's all a farce. I was overcome. I felt as if there was a hole carved out of the center of my chest, and the more I thought about it the bigger it got. And the bigger it got, the less of me there would be left. In the end, though, I wasn't sure if that would be a bad thing. Right then, fading away seemed like an alright answer to the question.
As she held me, she talked to me, softly.
"My Mom died, three years ago in a wreck. It sucks. It sucks more than anything. I don't even have family. Just my Dad. No grandparents, cousins, aunts or uncles. I never thought it was quite fair. God took away everyone else, why Mom, too, you know? I think about her every day, you know. You never forget, and it never stops hurting... but you get used to the pain. You get used to it, just like everything else. And that's not fair either, but it's life. And life's going to do the fucked up things that it does. It's going to take away everything one day, and then give you the world the next. And when you don't know what to do with the world, it'll take it all back. And this isn't any consolation. How could it be? Nothing's any consolation. I know how it feels. And it to say it hurts is an understatement so vast, that it's not even fair. There should be words for it. If there were, I think, it would be easier. Life is always easier... when there's words."
"I don't know what to do." I admitted. "I don't know what to say. I can't say anything at all."
"Then don't." She said, "Just feel, even if you feel like shit."
Back at the store, we sat on the hood of her car smoking cigarettes as the sun set. We had spent the whole day together. I surprised myself with my first-time-in-years willingness to cling to someone else who was not a member of my family. I knew, even then, when my mind was too full of everything else, that this was something huge.
"Crap." I said, "I just realized that I never told anyone I was leaving..."
"Do you want a ride back?"
"No, it's okay. My house is right nearby and there's a whole gate and security system to get through... It's easier if I just walk."
"Okay, Taylor..." She said, "Just keep your head up, okay?"
I nodded and stood up. "Oh, hey... Are you going to the wake tomorrow?"
"I don't know. Do you want me to go? I don't know anything about it."
"It's at Colin Funeral Home. It'll be open all day. Please come by and see me."
"If you want me to, I will." She said, and embraced me. "Now get home, I don't want your family worrying about you."
"Thank you." I said, "For today."
"Anytime, Taylor. I like you. You're not so dangerous..."
I laughed. "See you later."