Seasons in Change (According to Chester Hoffman)

CW: Some swearing.

Author's note: Wrote this as a companion piece to a previous prompt submission, but this is intended to be read as its own standalone story.

"You always think you know what's best, don't you? Fine by me, I don't care, just don't drag Chester into it. Just cause you're dooming yourself doesn't mean he has to suffer the same fate. I guess we're all doomed though, so maybe it doesn't matter. Actually, do what you want, I don't care."

Those words had been haunting Chester's sleep for the last several days, prying into his dreams like some sort of demon or malevolent spirit. He saw his fathers lips opening and closing, though watching the argument unfold from outside in the hall, crouched and hidden behind a stand, he could swear he smelt the scent of whisky weaving through the air.

"Okay, and...?", Ben had said while doing pull-ups on a makeshift bar in his room as "Bring Da Ruckus' boomed, Chester coming in to discuss what he heard, and the fears it caused.

"And?" Chester said, slightly offended. "There is no and, that's it. Dad said mom's gonna doom herself and me."

"Dad's an alcoholic", Ben said, raising himself up with a grunt.

"That's not true."

"Sure bud."

"What about you?", Chester retorted. "Aren't you scared?"

Ben scoffed a mean scoff.

"Nah, I ain't scared. In just a few weeks, I'll be over in the desert with my boys popping terrorists and cruising through sand dunes. Sucks for you and mom though, I guess."

Chester opened his mouth, wanting to say how that just made it worse, how he didn't want Ben to go, how he was afraid of what might happen. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, so he turned with a sigh and left the room.

"Shut my door before you go will ya."

Chester wanted to visit his dad, to talk to him, but unfortunately his mother had kicked him out the house, and now James Hoffman was crashing with his brother in Newport. James had been working hard the last few weeks; burning the midnight oil. The recession was bad, and over half of the firm had gotten the boot without warning or much fanfare. James claimed his toiling into the hour of the owl was to prove his worth to the firm so that he didn't suffer the same fate as the rest of those unfortunate souls, but after some impressive sleuthing by Chester's mother (which included following him to a convince store before he headed to the office and asking the cashier what he purchased, to which they responded a pack of extra slim condoms, Vaseline and two Hershey chocolate bars), she found out his late hours were less focused on proving his worth and more so on spending time with his coworker Ms. Jones.

Dismayed, and feeling slightly adrift, Chester opted to grab his BMX and bike to Susan's house. Susan, Chester's closest friend (though he probably would never admit it) had recently up and left with her family two weeks ago in destination for the strange land of Colorado. A result of the doom. When he arrived in front of the house, the chill fall wind picking up and blowing in Chester's already ruddy face as if in some cosmic laughter, he found the scene to be a gloomy one. A for sale sign was staked in the yellow and orange leaf covered lawn, slightly leaned and crooked from the wind. As chance would have it, and seemed to often have in Chester's case, an old Subura Outback pullled up to the curbside, a balding man leaning over his wife as he peered out the window. Two children sat in the back, an obsidian haired teen with a default scowl and pepperoni face, and a dusky haired girl who couldn't have been much older than Chester. The girl turned, as if feeling Chester's gaze, and stared at him. She didn't frown or smile, her face a neatral observation, and this, coupled with how similar she looked to Susan, stirred a strange dread within Chester. He pedaled on, even further dismayed, and more adrift than a fallen leaf in autumn. 

***

"Nah, I get you, things are just weird right now man", Sammy said, lying on his bed as he watched a nature documentary and crunched down on alternative Cheetos, his belly, had he not been twelve and five feet six inches, easily mistaken for the beer belly of a forty year old man. Sammy wiped his Simpson colored hands on his shirt. "My folks have had trouble, too. My pops cheated a few times, and I think my mom has too, I'm not sure. Ned said he once saw his parents come over to my house and they all cheated with each other. Said he's actually seen this a few times. Makes no sense though. And look-"

Sammy held his bag up to Chester, who sat in a beanbag chair across the room. "This stuff isn't even actual Cheetos, it's some kinda knockoff brand my mom got at Whole Foods. She said I'm eating too much junk, and if I'm not careful I'll end up like my father. Fucking matzah bread has more flavor than this shit."

Chester sighed, slightly beginning to regret ever venturing from his house. 

"W-when my mom takes us to Maine, do you think we'll remain friends?"

Sammy chewed for a moment, then put down his bag and dusted off his hands.

"Yeah, I mean, of course we will. Why wouldn't we?"

"Well...we wouldn't be in school anymore, or doing sleepovers on the weekends. It'll just be phone calls."

Sammy leaned forward, a certain dread forming behind his eyes as his mind spun obsidian thoughts.

"Well, I mean...phone calls are enough to keep a friendship going, right? We just have to be consistent about it. That's what my dad says; he gambles a lot, and doesn't always win, actually he usually doesn't win at all, but he says you just have to be consistent. Consistently is key

As Chester pondered Sammy's words, he wondered how his parents hadn't gotten a divorce yet.

***

After departing Sammy's house (Sammy retrieving a bag of sour worms he hid under his mattress just as his mother happened to come in, and a verbal lashing ensuing so bad Chester got second hand embarrassment) Chester decided to call it quits and made his way back home. After winding through dark suburban streets, streets lights casting a soft, almost golden glow, he found himself returned to the Hoffman household. After entering through the backyard and dropping his bike on the grass, he made his way through the patio door.

"Fucking give me a break already, goddamn!", Chester heard Ben yell, almost wail. A serious of thudding footsteps followed, then the clang of the attic door. Chester proceeded into the living room, Rebecca sitting on the couch, her face and body obscured in shadow. She didn't say anything to Chester, and Chester wondered if he should, but decided against it and headed up for the attic. When he came up, Ben was nowhere to be seen,  but the attic window was open. Chester stepped out, foot planting solidly on the ledge and made his way to the roof. Ben lay, hands on stomach as he stared at the moon. Ben ever so slightly glanced at Chester, then sniffed and turned his head.

"What do you want", Ben said with the energy of a long deflated balloon, his voice cracking.

"I-nothing. Just wanted to see where you went."

Ben didn't respond. Chester walked a little further then set down, butt against the worn brown tile and his knees drawn in, hands clasped around them. Neither spoke, and the minutes ticked by.

"Where were you", Ben said.

"I went to Susan's house."

Ben chuckled, covertly wiping his nose with his shirt sleeve.

"She's gone."

"I know. Just like you're about to be."

More silence, and more study of the moon, and the black canvas which contained it.

"I have to go, Chester. If I don't...I think I'll lose my mind."

"Can't you just...talk things over with mom? If you guys just talked, I th-"

"Nah, talkings no good. Hasn't been for awhile now. I-"

Ben leaned up, looking at the lawn, and sprawling neighborhood beyond that.

"Things are falling apart, Chester. No, they already have, and it's been like that for awhile. Dad and mom...that's just the latest symptom of the problem. And I don't even know what the problem is, I just know it's making me sick and I can't stay any longer."

Chester looked at Ben, not knowing it, but tears welling in his eyes like overflowed gutters. He opened his mouth, but shut it.

Ben finally brought his gaze to meet Chester's, eyes bloodshot.

"I know this isn't fair, and I'm sorry. Life isn't always fair though, from my experience it actually tends not to be. When I'm gone, you can call me, and I'll answer. Always."

Ben stood up, legs slightly shaky, and walked to Chester. He looked down at Chester, and Chester saw a look on his face he'd  never seen before. His cheeks were wet, and snot dropped down his left nostril.

"I love you, Chester. And I'm sorry I've never told you that, but I hope you've known that."

Ben leaned down slightly, and brushed Chester's cheek.

"Be good, man."

Ben walked towards the ledge, climbing down. He proceeded out the yard and to the driveway, getting in his truck and starting it, then departed into the black. Chester sat for minutes more, close to half an hour, then made his way back down and into the house. Rebecca was no longer in the living room, but Chester came across her in her bedroom, weeping into a pillow. Chester was gonna say that Ben had left, but realized she already knew. Chester began to close her door, but came inside and turned on the TV, sitting down next to her. He flipped through the channels, eventually landing on Jeopardy, and sunk back into his pillow, watching until his eyelids became heavy, too much to bear, and Chester fell asleep.

***

It had now been two weeks since Ben left, and most of the moving had been done. A for sale sign was staked in Chester's now barren front lawn, and he sat in the front passenger seat of his mother's 2004 Subaru Forester as she finished up a phone call inside with his uncle Henry. The wind was blowing, but it was a nice day. Warm. The streets were a prismatic covering of yellow, orange and brown leaves, which crunched whenever anyone walked by or a car passed. Chester found the sound soothing and had his window rolled down so he could better hear it. Plus the breeze was nice. Rebecca came out the house, closing and locking the door behind her, then made her way to the car.

"What were you and uncle Henry talking about?"

"Oh, just boring stuff. Semantics of the move and whatnot."

Rebeca started the car and buckled her seatbelt. She looked over at Chester, her lips cracked in a smile.

"You ready?"

Chester nodded.

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"Well, then", Rebecca said, putting the car in drive. "Upwards and onwards."

They drove down the street, and Chester could hear the crunching of the leaves.