The Park

It had been years since that horrible night. The night that we fought, and I realized for the first time how little I truly mattered to you. I was in pain, I was fifteen, I was lost and scared, and you were supposed to be there for me. Every teenager has the right to be moody because they are all looking at their place in the world and what they want to turn into when their life begins. It had been a hard day at school, and I missed my friend. He is gone and I can’t call him where he went.  I cried in the bathroom that day. I read horrible things on the wall written in permanent marker about myself and him. 

I went to work, and my boss yelled because we were busy, and people had to wait in line for a long time to get their food. I walked home that night because my skateboard wheel broke off the board. It was a lonely walk and I was in a terrible mood from all the things that don’t matter but seem like the end of the world when you are fifteen. I had so much on my mind and felt like the world should swallow me up.

               I walked into the house and you were sitting in a chair facing the door. I could tell you had a long day. There were dark circles under your eyes. Did dad yell at you? Was work hard? I would never know because you didn’t even let me speak. You began yelling at me about grades, about being home late from work, about responsibility, and about my disinterest in other people’s feelings. I don’t know what your goal was the only thing I could see on your face was cruelty misdirected rage. I didn’t deserve the venom you were expressing I had enough I yelled back. Things I was thinking the final thing I said was, “It isn’t my fault you hate me!” Your eyes flashed with surprise and you smacked me. It was hard enough I stumbled. You told me I was ungrateful, self-centered, and entitled. You asked how anyone could be expected to love someone like that. You then told me to get out.

That night you kicked me out and I never went back. I never called and I let you go because I needed to care about me. After all, you weren’t going to.  I was all the things you called me because I was fifteen which isn’t a crime or preventable. I ran to the park; it was dark and cool now. I was out of breath because this was out of control, because what can I do? I can’t breathe. I saw a bench, the same bench I am sitting on now. I began tracing the little rocks in the cement. I trace and trace and my fingertip grew raw and I keep tracing. I am tired and sad. I was trash and I finally got thrown away. Then blood begins to color the bench as I trace the rocks. Tears had started flowing down my cheeks at some point. I laid down on the bench and cried myself to sleep. 

My alarm went off when it should have, and I got up and went to school. I pretended nothing had happened. No one noticed. I didn’t think about anything. I went to work. I got off work and I realized I had nowhere to go. I sat down on the curb and I fixed the wheel on my skateboard. With spare parts, I had in my backpack. I then began to drift simply skating through neighborhoods those that were familiar and some I didn’t know. I was calm, I was in my element. The wind caressed my face and I felt peace. I began to jump curbs. It was a small thrill; it was a conquest I felt good at something. I laughed for the first time in two days. The stars were watching me, and I felt like I was at home and loved. 

It was about midnight and I was still skating around. I was starting to feel my muscles strain, I was a little hungry, and I wanted a bed. That is when my phone rang, I only had fifteen percent. I was fifteen I hadn’t made any plans. I had nowhere to go and I didn’t tell anyone, and I began to panic only when I saw your name. I wouldn’t have answered the phone if it had not been you. Relief and shame flooded through me and I felt so young as I answered the phone. I was scared. You were always there when Mom yelled. You told me I was enough when Dad was disappointed and now you were calling and asking if I was ok. I didn’t have words. I just broke down on the curb in front of a stranger’s house in the middle of the night. You didn’t yell you asked if my phone GPS was on.  I made a noise that you interpreted as yes somehow. You told me you were coming. You told me it would be ok. You talked to me I don’t remember about what. I was still bawling. It is a miracle that my phone lasted, that the owners of the home didn’t come out, and that you pulled up in the car we restored together. I looked up and the stars were shining so brightly. 

You got out of the car crouched in front of me and pulled me into a crushing hug. I clamped on like you were the only thing tethering me to earth. At that time in that moment, you were. I cried and cried. You disentangled me from you and said let’s go to my house. You knew enough to not take me home or even say you were taking me home because I would have run. I fell asleep in the car where it was warm, and you held my hand. I should have been embarrassed I was fifteen, but right then I was small and scared and you saved me. 

You let me sleep in the next day called my school and work told them I was sick. You got my stuff and moved it into your one-room apartment in the crappy part of town. You gave me the bedroom so I could have my own space saying that was important for someone my age. You were only twenty, but you took me in and made it all work out. My life changed very little in that I went to the same school and did the same things, but it changed a lot in that someone finally loved me. 

Sitting on the same park bench, now in my thirties with a wife and kids, I still wonder how my brother ended up raising me. He deserved so much better than you as his mother and so do I. He shouldn’t have had to live the way he did missing so much of his youth for his youngest sibling. I also am so grateful that I am here. That he loved me enough to do something about my pain. Sitting in this park brings back the pain. It is something I will probably never lose, but it also brings a warmth that I can’t describe. I feel loved and free the same way I did on my skateboard all those years ago looking up at the stars.