Twenty-Twenty

Hindsight really is twenty-twenty.

Rachael Wheim shifted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat of her Chevy Cruze while delayed at a red light. She was on her way to meet up with her family, which for some might be cause for joviality. With the Wheim family, however, less was always and inexorably more. She shook her head, causing the waves of her curly red hair to dance at the corners of her vision. Fair skin ran in the family, but she had won the genetic lottery by being the only one to snag the ruby red hair and emerald green eyes combination. A set of features that caused the distressingly predatory driver next to her to shout at her, demanding she roll down the window so he could get her number.

Such was the cloud of foreboding at the upcoming gathering, that she almost turned to engage the rude stranger. Almost. She was more pragmatic than that. She realized, though, that this was stronger than her usual discomfort at having to process the multiple dramas and aggravations of her family. Something today felt different. Heavier? It was hard to place exactly.

Mercifully, the light changed and she was able to leave the cat-caller behind with a moderate application of lead-footedness. Yet the feeling of growing concern only grew as she got closer and closer to her mother’s condo. She did her best to talk herself down; her brothers could be very considerate at times. They weren’t usually willing to, but the capability existed.

More-so in her younger brother, Edward, than in her elder brother Jason. Sadly, though, Edward had a broader range of kindness in both directions. That is to say that he was capable of being the sweetest sibling, or the biggest rat bastard on earth. He was a thin young man, and the shortest of the three at just three inches taller than their mother who was quite demure. He had an intriguing, if not particularly unappealing mix of straw blonde and rusty red hair that he regularly kept mohawked and long-bearded. Often, he put a smear of colour in one or both, deliberately giving the impression that he did it himself. That was the most apt expression of who he was; deliberately indeliberate, and wanted everyone to know he didn’t care.

Jason, on the other hand, was always a sour-puss that wanted the world to see him as refined. He utterly failed at that projection, and was often bitter as a result. Or maybe that was just the way he was with his family, but Rachael couldn’t see him being any other way. He was a large person in girth, but not much taller than Edward. What was left of his hair was kept short, an aesthetic choice as much as anything else. Jason had once lit his hair on fire in an ill-conceived experiment with a propane torch, and since then, the ravishes of genetics destroyed what was left of his hairline. He used to have a beard like Jason, but his current employer had an appearance standard that forbade overmuch facial hair, and so now, in keeping with his attempt to portray himself as refined, he had a ludicrous handlebar mustache. Not the “oh neat, you have a Harley and an old-timey mustache?” type, but a “wow, your 33 and live with your mum and have a weirdo mustache?” type. It was odd and out of place, as oft was Jason himself.

Another red light. As she tried to replace the intrusive feeling of dread with a calculation of just how many red lights it was possible to hit from her side of town to her mother’s, the feeling grew. It was strangely stronger when she thought about her mother and Edward. She felt almost like it was some sense of caution. Nothing specific, though she wished it were. She had frequent intellectual worries about her mother especially.

Beth Wheim was a widow, and a permissive parent to two of her three children. Stout and with the same wavy red hair as Rachael, she was often described as spritely; energetic but small. It was a description she embraced. She was on the opposite end of the height spectrum from her daughter, as Rachael was the tallest, and she the shortest. Rachael often considered them opposites on many scales. For instance, Beth would argue fervently that Rachael was never treated like a middle child, but she would more fervently argue the opposite. Beth doted on the boys. Jason was the strong eldest son that she could count on to take responsibility, by her accounting. Edward, on the other hand, was her sweet baby boy that she let never move out, and only occasionally hold a job. Beth bought both of them cars, whereas Rachael worked three jobs for two years to get a down payment for her used sedan. Beth paid for Edward to go to a state university which he later dropped out of, while Rachael moved out at 16 on a partial scholarship and had to get legally emancipated so she could work to meet living expenses.

That was Beth. She loved two of her children, and was at best lukewarm towards the third. Never mind that Jason had left home while their father was sick and insane. Never mind that Rachael was the one who took care of funeral and estate matters when her mother said she couldn’t. Never mind that Rachael left the city she loved while attending college to return to the city her family lived in.

She shook her head as she pressed down on the gas pedal in response to the blink of green on the traffic signal. Often, her thoughts went to how much she gave to the family, only to get no return. But that’s not why she did it. She loved them all for better or worse, as is what a family represents. Maybe that’s all this feeling is? Some sort of resentment?

The feeling surged again, and she knew that was wishful thinking. It was like a voice spoken through a wall, and while she couldn’t make out the words, she knew the tone. Something was wrong, or more precisely, was going to be wrong. Beth and Edward were going to not be okay.

Before long, she turned into the complex of condos where her family lived. It was on the edge of ‘the nice part of town’, and fell into the category of a ‘fine place to live’. Nothing special, and thankfully not a regular on the news. She noted both her brothers’ cars as she pulled into the parking space nearest Beth’s unit. Presumably, that meant everyone was fine so far. She grabbed the wine and coleslaw she’d brought, and left her car overeagerly, catching her skirt in the door in her haste. She was somewhere between panicked and poised, but composed herself as best she could before knocking.

Her mother opened the door, but was already walking away before Rachael walked through.

“Edward is really mad,” she said.

“Is he alright?” Rachael asked, a twinge of concern in her voice.

“No, he’s pissed,” Beth answered. “Last time you were here, you plugged in your phone, and didn’t plug his laptop back in when you left. He’s really mad.”

Rachael did her best not to openly scoff. She hadn’t expected something so petty, but it was reasonable to assume that news of that nature would not antecede news of broken limbs or mangled features. Noting Jason sitting in the living area with his face buried in a mystery novel, she inwardly sighed in relief. “He’ll survive,” she said in way of an off-handed reply to Beth.

“Well he doesn’t want to talk to you today, so you’d best steer clear of him. He’s in his room, but when he comes out, I don’t want you…”

“Mum,” she interrupted. “I need to talk to you.”

Beth sighed with an exasperated breath. “Why?”

She considered for a moment how to broach the subject. There was nothing terribly sensible to say. It was all her own intuition and impulse. How do you explain that? “I’m worried about you,” she finally said.

Her mum shook her head and replied, “Don’t start trying to make things up. You’re going to have to be more considerate of your brother’s belongings, or you’re not coming over anymore.”

The anxiety and frustration bubbled over for Rachael. “I couldn’t give a shit less about his plug. What did it take him, all of ten seconds to fix that problem? Something is wrong, mum. I can feel it. I’m worried about him and I’m worried about you.”

Beth just shook her head.

“I’m serious, I have a bad feeling. Just promise me you’ll be careful together. Please?”

“You’re just trying to create problems where there aren’t any. If you’re going to cause problems, you can leave right now.”

Rachael’s eyes teared up. It was like trying to empty the ocean with a coffee mug. She set the wine on the table and turned back to the door. She resisted the urge to slam it behind her. On the way back to her car, her brother shouted at her from his window, calling her a disrespectful grimalkin.

“Ed, please be careful with mum. I’m worried about…”

“How about you don’t bother coming over anymore? You’re not welcome here, and we’re not friends. Why don’t you try being more respectful to others from now, huh?”

Everything inside Rachael said to just let the words bead off her like water off a duck’s back. She felt concern and worry more than she felt angry, but she was frustrated by nobody hearing her concerns, so she went against every instinct and retorted to him. “Why don’t you try not being such a damned burden to our mother, huh?!”

She trudged back to her car and plopped into the driver’s seat before she let the damn of tears burst. Something WAS going to happen. She didn’t know how she knew, but she was more certain of that than the sun and moon. She was right there, with the people she worried for, and couldn’t reach them. It was frustrating her very soul. She sobbed, wordless and unmoving.

After she didn’t know how long, their was a gentle rapping on her window. She looked up, and saw Jason standing there. Inwardly, she rolled her eyes at anticipation of another argument. Outwardly, she rolled down the window and sniffed her sobs in a futile attempt at composure.

“Ed has been upset for the last couple days, and he’s been taking it out on mum. It’s probably not the plug thing, but you know how fickle he is.” He said to her. It seems she was half right, as Jason displayed a kind temperament he was not known for on this day.

She sighed, half relief, half exasperation. “Jay, something is wrong. I feel it. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m worried about both of them.”

He nodded. “I actually get that. Mum has been making bad decisions when she’s around Ed, and I think he’s been taking advantage of that. I understand how you feel.”

She felt a surge of hope. “Then you can help convince her, right?”

He winced. “That’s a really uncomfortable conversation I don’t want to have.”

She shook her head vehemently. “No, Jay, you have to! We can talk to her together. This is more than just bad decisions. Something is going to happen, and we have to stop it!”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re being dramatic. Look, mum’s an adult. She’ll make mistakes if she wants to. Ed’s not hurting her, he’s just being a jerk. She’ll realize that eventually, or she won’t.”

“It’s more than that!” she shouted desperately.

He started to back away as he replied. “Look, today just isn’t a good day. Give them a little time to cool off and try again. They’ll forget about it before you know it.” As he turned and walked back to the condo without awaiting a reply, she knew her last chance had just slipped away like sand in an hour glass. After a moment of stunned silence, she resigned that there was no more she could do to affect the situation, then turned the key in the ignition.

*****

She would eventually question that resignation. One week later, Beth and Edward were reported missing after going hiking in the heat of the summer. For nine agonizing days, no knowledge of their whereabouts was found. On the tenth day, their vehicle was found rolled down an embankment just miles from the second largest city in the state. Beth’s body was found about three hundred yards away, badly ravaged by exposure to the elements, but with a handkerchief covering her face, as if placed as a funeral shroud. Ed is still missing to this day.

Rachael was so mad at Jason for not voicing his concerns, and not heeding hers, that they now live apart as strangers. Their family effectively ended that day. And all she- that is, all I can think about is that last conversation with Edward. One chance to be more than petty, to not leave the last words to a brother I loved as hateful and unkind, and I missed it. I’d give everything I have to have that moment back, but that’s the price of emotion. No amount of foresight or foreboding can rescue you from your own feelings.

But hey, hindsight is twenty-twenty.