Greatest Enemy

Have you ever wanted to press the bottom of your shoe into someone’s jugular? Perhaps, that’s a bit too violent. What I mean is, have you ever wanted to tie someone to a chair and then leave them on the sidewalk outside of a tall building? Then gently, of course, topple a large dresser out the window eight stories above them? I can’t say this is something I’ve fantasized about. It’s only that his head would look so good with his face plastered on the concrete. 

“Father, I thought this trip was for you and me. Why is that thing tagging along?” My lips pull into a pout where Dad can see from the rearview mirror. 

“Ah, my dear sweet Juliana, I owe Roger a game of poker. He’s already at the vacation house waiting, how could I say no?” 

I scream. Not out loud or anything. It was a scream inside my head and in my heart. A silent scream which wakes all the blood in your veins in a pounding rush and makes you want to do things with your body. Violent things, like taking the lives of those around you. 

“Roger asked me to snag his son on the way up. You and Derek have been friends since you were children. I was sure you wouldn’t mind.” 

Roger is my Dad’s best friend. It’s disgusting the way they turn into two teenage girls when they are around each other. I should know, as a seventeen-year-old teenager myself. They gossip worse than two old ladies bumping into one another at a grocery store. It’s also vile how he and his son are crashing what should be a precious trip. 

If you are wondering why these kind of situations keep happening to me, I’ll tell you. Roger has worked with my father at their company for the last thirteen years. A weird way to become soulmates, but here we are. As for his son, Derek, the twenty-year-old has spent the last ten years of his life plaguing me like a chronic illness.

A pair of fingers snake into my hair and give a sharp pull. I glare toward Derek. He smiles a wide smile with perfect teeth. His disheveled blond hair and blue eyes make him look more like a boy instead of a man. One could argue his behavior makes him appear that way also. If looks could kill, I would use my powers for evil and turn him into an ant in the back seat of my dad’s car. Then, I would take his tiny ant body and squish his entire existence between my finger and my thumb. 

“But Daddy, Derek’s all grown up now. He’s more than capable of driving himself to the beach house.” 

“Carpooling is better for the environment, don’t you agree, Juliana? You like the ocean, right? If we don’t do things like carpool, who knows if your grandkids will even step foot inside of one. Or outside of one. What if the entire planet becomes an ocean due to rising sea levels?” 

Oh, for the love of fish. Here he goes talking about the environment again. Don’t get me wrong, it’s important to do what we can to save our planet. Which is why I can’t help but notice something even larger we can do to make the world a better place. For instance, he can let me take Derek’s decaying body and bury it six feet under the ground. What a service I’ll be doing, food for the plants, and all that. Bonus, less toxic air releasing into the ozone layer because dead people can’t speak. 

My eyes climb over Dad’s frame while he grips the steering wheel. I study his greying hair and feel something deep inside claw its way to the surface. It’s something I work so very hard to cover with rage, but every once in a while, it escapes regardless. It’s the feeling of sadness. 

I want this trip to be between the two of us.       

When mom died, he threw himself into work. Partly to hold the grief at bay, but I couldn’t help but feel the other part was because he didn’t want to be alone with me. After all, I’m her spitting image with my long dark hair and deep brown eyes. 

Something stings my cheek and my head jerks in Derek’s direction. Like a cat makes eye contact as it knocks a glass off the table, he raises his hand in my direction. His hands are beautiful. He has the type of fingers that can glide without effort over piano keys. Instead of choosing to create art with them, however, he creates abuse. He takes what looks like an old crumpled receipt and sends it flying into my hair. 

“Mature,” I mumble, where Dad can’t hear. 

Ten years, give or take, that’s how long Derek and I have been at war. Although I haven’t brought him to his knees, it’s only a matter of time before I find his weakness. Excuse the wicked laugh, just now. That was Evil Juliana. She gets out of her cage sometimes when she thinks of all the ways she can make Derek pay for his past crimes. 

By now, I’m sure, you are waiting for the great reveal. The one big thing Derek did that makes me want to decorate his hair with his entrails. The thing is, there isn’t only one crime. It has been a relentless onslaught of attacks since he and his dad moved into our neighborhood. Mom died, and it was as if God himself thought I needed more character development so he brought Derek into my life. 

It was first grade when we met. I was in a bright yellow dress. Take note of that, it’s important for later. Anyway, Mom passed away over the summer. I was already in tears thinking about the way she should have been there to walk me to the bus stop. Dad couldn’t, he had work, of course. The sky had cried the whole night before, as if to cry with me. I waited at the bus stop all by myself and there he was, Derek the Devil, flying around the corner without warning. He crashed into my back where I fell straight into the mud, ruining my yellow dress with splotches of brown. I wasn’t crying anymore, I was all fury. He did it on purpose, too, I was sure of it. 

We crawl through the countryside for two more painful hours. When I’m sure I have no choice but to dismantle Derek’s arms and legs in front of my father, we make it. We pull into the sandy driveway of a coral colored house on wooden stilts. On the other side of the house, an endless sea. I can’t wait to drown Derek in it. 

“My God, David. Is that you? It’s been ages!” 

Roger appears on the deck in wire rimmed glasses and looks with great longing at my father. His arms are stretched wide like a dad welcoming their son home from the war. My father bounds up the stairs after him like a golden retriever happy to see its owner. For the record, they were in the office together all last week. Some people talk about codependency. I want you to know, this is exactly what that looks like. 

I grab my bags from the back of the car and make my way up the stairs. Derek is right behind me pulling me backwards by the bag on my back. I ignore him and he pulls harder. As soon as dad is engrossed in conversation, I shoot Derek a warning shot with my eyes over my shoulder. 

“Do you want to die?”                                          

“Do you think you could kill me?” 

He looks at me with eyes full of mischief. I can’t help but to want to take a scalpel and scoop them out of his face. The sea gulls will thank me for their breakfast in the morning. The fact that Derek is attractive isn’t lost on me. It enrages me even more. He uses his looks like a weapon. One more thing in his arsenal he tries to use against me. 

He leans in close to my face, too close, and I smell peppermint flavored gum on his breath. I take full advantage of this moment and do what he least expects. I lean in close enough our lips almost touch and watch as his sea blue eyes go wide with surprise. It’s in this moment, I know I’ve won. I take my left leg and kick hard, sweeping Derek off his feet. I watch as he falls down the stairs in a heavy, painful-sounding thud. Evil Juliana grins inside me. 

“Derek, oh my goodness. Are you okay? It’s dark. Did you miss a step?” I gush, as if I am some sort of caring younger sister. 

Our dads only care long enough about the situation until Derek is back on his feet and moving up the stairs. I see it for only a moment, a look of stormy malice in the angry ocean of his eyes. Not wanting to get caught in the hurricane, I rush up the stairs and zoom inside to my bedroom where I close the door. I lock it and hear a hand hit the wood with a bang. 

“You can run, sweet Juliana. But can you hide?”

In the bedroom, I resign myself to the fact this trip isn’t the bonding trip I wished for. Deciding to make the most of it, regardless, I haul my red polka dot bikini from my bag for a night swim. I’m sure I can sneak out without incurring Derek’s wrath as I slide past Dad’s poker game. Roger already has a beer in his hand. I notice a smaller me inside me as I leave Dad behind with his friend. She is a six-year-old me and she feels lonely. All she wants is for Dad to play with us instead. I tuck her back down deep inside and remind her we are no longer a child. 

“Dad, enjoy your poker game. I’m going out for a swim.” 

“Don’t go too far,” he tells me, as if I really am still a child. 

The sky is velvet purple when I make it to the beach. The stars shine here in a way they never do in the city. The water lulls me in and I take a deep breath of salty air. Memories of Mom wash over me as I wiggle my toes in the sand. We built sand castles once upon a time in this very same place. Grief is such an ugly creature, coming and going as it pleases. 

For a moment, anger and sadness rock my insides like a boat caught in a storm on the sea. I plunge deeper in the water letting my face submerge below the surface. A desperate part of me wants to let go of it all. What’s the point, really? Grief makes you question things like that. It makes you question if you will ever escape its embrace. It tells you that you can’t let go. If you let go of the pain, doesn’t it mean letting go of the person who left you behind? If you really love them, you can’t go on without them. Grief never lets you forget. 

I am under the water too long and my lungs squeeze. A reminder, I’m human and I need air to survive. The ground has dropped away beneath my feet and I can’t find the surface above me either. Panic replaces grief when I realize I can’t find my way out. I claw at the water around me. I kick my feet and struggle against the weight of it. Precious seconds pass and my head begins to feel light. 

A single thought tugs at my consciousness. If I leave Dad behind, he will be all alone. Memories attack me. I see him sitting in the dark, alone on his bed. His head is in his hands. It’s after Mom died. I realize how imperfect he’s been until now. How many times he got it wrong after Mom died and disappointed me. Even so, day after day he loved me and he never left my side. I don’t want to leave his side either. 

My shoulders jerk backwards and my head lifts above the surface. I choke on a mixture of air and water while I feel my body being dragged backwards. I am cradled in a pair of arms and when I blink the salty water from my eyes I see my greatest enemy. 

His face is full of fear. I continue to choke on the water that invaded my lungs. Seconds or hours pass and Derek places me on the sandy beach. He leans me forward in a sitting position and rubs my back while I choke out the last of the water. I take deep breaths once the choking stops and notice my legs as they tremble. We sit in silence for awhile until the fear settles down inside me. When I can’t take the quiet anymore I speak. 

“Great hiding place, huh? You still managed to find me.” 

I watch as relief replaces the fear on his face. An unfamiliar feeling settles in my stomach. I didn’t realize he cared enough about me to be afraid for me.

“Juliana, what we’re you thinking?” He speaks in a serious tone I’ve never heard from him before. “Don’t ever do something like that again. It’s bad for my heart.” 

“That’s weird,” I tell him. “I was sure you didn’t have one.” 

His face breaks out into one of his easy smiles, “What would give you that idea?” 

“It could have something to do with the years you’ve spent making me cry.” 

“I’ve never once made you cry.” 

I consider his words and he isn’t wrong. Furious, he’s made me furious. The endless assaults over the years has made me boil over with rage. Annoyance, animosity, exasperation, and displeasure. These are things I have felt with him. Yet, he’s never once made me cry. 

“Why do you do it?” I ask. 

“Do what?” 

“Torment me. You seem your happiest when I’m at my angriest.” 

“I wouldn’t call it torment,” his tone is thoughtful. 

“What would you call it, then?” 

“Saving you.” 

I scrunch my face at him in confusion. Of all the answers I expected, this wasn’t one of them. 

“I remember the first time I met you,” he says with a kind of seriousness I’m still not used to hearing from him. “My father told me there would be a girl waiting at the bus stop and to watch out for her. He told me you went through hard things over the summer. That you were battling sadness. I thought about it the whole way to the bus stop that morning. I knew what it was like to battle sadness, you see, cause I lost my mom too. It always made me feel defeated and angry. What’s worse is, there was nowhere for the anger to go. So… it sat on my shoulders like a crushing weight.” 

Derek searches my eyes. I’m unsure what kind of trick he’s playing when he sounds so sincere. He digs his fingers into the sand next to him as he continues to speak. 

“You were beautiful in your bright yellow dress but when I saw you were crying, I knew you felt the same as me. I didn’t want you to carry the weight of that anger all by yourself, Juliana. I thought if I helped you give it a place to go, you wouldn’t feel so alone.” 

There are moments in life you never see coming. They come out of nowhere and blindside you. One of these moments is when you realize your greatest enemy is actually your greatest ally. My heart lurches in my chest with an ache. I realize it’s gratitude for the man sitting next to me. It’s such a foreign sensation I almost don’t know what to do with it… almost. 

I take my hands and scoop a large amount of wet sand into them. When it’s nice and ball-like I lean over to Derek and I drop it on top of his head. Evil Juliana inside me lets out a loud laugh. Derek stares at me in confusion for only a moment. As if he couldn’t believe what I had done. When the moment passes, the Derek I have always known him to be returns and he is out for blood. 

He lifts himself from the ground and gets in the water rinsing the sand from his hair. I see a ruthless glint in his eyes and know I’m in for it this time. He grabs me by the hand and drags me into the water with him. 

“This time, I’ll let you drown for sure.” 

“You’re the only one who is going to drown,” I warn. 

I climb on top of him with all my weight, which I’ll admit, isn’t near enough to accomplish my goals. I should have trained for this moment by eating three times my size for my entire life. I shove his head into the water several times, but he’s stronger than me, and keeps evading his death. 

I want to tell him thank you for all the times he never left me alone. Or to let him know, looking at it now, I can see all the times he saved me. Words try to come out of me, like how I can’t imagine how hard growing up would have been if he wasn’t always pulling me away from my grief. However, these are words I can’t bring myself to admit to my greatest enemy.

 Instead, I say the only words I can as he laughs at all my failed murder attempts —

“Give up and die, you germ.”