Seven: One Step Inside...

When you blame yourself, you learn from it. If you blame someone else, you don't learn nothing, cause hey, it's not your fault, it's his fault, over there.
-Joe Strummer

“I should wait for you. I’ll wait for you, ma’am,” the cab driver said as she handed him a twenty dollar bill, waving away the change. She’s appreciated the quiet ride, the chance to see the city and forget about where she was going. There were so many memories on so many streets. They all came back too quick. Some not as nice as she’d once thought them to be. They were shed in a different light now. The time away made things seem more real and less like a 90s teen party movie and more like the path towards a life like Michael Alig. The thought was frightening.

“It’s okay. I’ll need some time,” Stella told him with a thankful smile. She patted the side of the car with the palm of her hand and waved as she walked into the cemetery. It was amazing how less eerie it appeared this winter in contrast to the last. With snow on the ground and in the trees things were more restful, more at ease. There was no wind whistling through the bare trees. Everything was still, but it made it hard to take another step inside the gate. It was hard to imagine him locked within those gates, buried under the frozen earth. She began to cry already. She promised herself it wouldn’t be so soon. It wouldn’t be that hard, she had told herself many times.

He would have been angry with her, knowing she was crying already. He would have already been annoyed that she was there in the first place. He had told her so many times that tombstones were for the living. He said he would never be buried. He made her promise.

Tombstones were pointless, he would say, and it was worse when people visited the graves to talk to their death. So many times he reminded her that there were no life after death so talking to slabs of rock was pointless. Stella really hoped he was wrong.

Stella took the long way to his grave. With ear buds in her ears she listened to a playlist of punk rock he’s made her years ago. All the songs were familiar, but not by name. Not once did she look at the iPod. The artists meant nothing to her. If he hadn’t made it she may never have listened to it in the first place, but he wanted her to understand. He wanted her to join him in that feeling, something she could never do.

Try to stop us, it's no use, the lyrics said.

Stella stopped to stare at a statue of an angel with arms crossed, head tilted downward. It was oddly haunting, so she moved along.

The song went on, rise above. Rise above. Rise above.

Past Massey Mausoleum Stella walked, feeling a weight in her arms and legs. Her legs became so tired she felt like another step and they would collapse from beneath her. They carried her as far as a snow covered bench before she could move no further. Sitting right into the snow, Stella stared forward, trying hard not to look at any of the graves ahead. There were so many. Too many lives had been lost and she wanted to believe it was the natural order of things. It just didn’t feel right that things should be taken away. There was nothing fair about being left alone.

A car rolled by, reducing their speed at the sight of her. She bowed her head, not wanting to make eye contact with another mourner. She didn’t want a sympathetic smile. She just wanted to be alone with him. She knew she had to get up, to go, because if she didn’t now it would far too easy to put it off longer. If she had returned only a few days later she could have put it off for another year. No one would blame her if she didn’t visit throughout the year. But no one could ignore it if she didn’t visit him on the first day of the year. Not only would it seem she didn’t care, but also that she was a coward and neither assumption would have been right. More than that, she missed him more than she knew how to deal with.

It took a long moment, but she pushed herself off the bench and forced her feet to move forward. It felt like it took forever to walk where she was told the stone would be. But when she found it the whole process had moved too fast for her to understand. There it was. Cold, black rock. Just like his friends all said it would be. Those junkies and hard-asses, they all put on a suit and eliminated “fuck” from their vocabulary for one day, just for him. They sat in church and sang the hymns. They followed the hearse and held his mother’s hand when she wept. They all stood around in the cold and watched him being lowered into the ground. Until the day she left they called her, told her they understood her pain and if she needed them they were there. Those hard-asses and junkies understood why she couldn’t go, why she thought it just wasn’t right. But they had all been there and jealousy hit Stella as she stood there, staring at the patch of snow where she knew his body was resting beneath the earth.
She sat down cross-legged facing the tombstone.

Roberto Juan Torres.
January 1, 1982 - January 1st, 2009.
Son. Brother. Friend.

Stella couldn’t believe how impersonal it had been. There were a million things Stella could think of that would have been more fitting to write in his memory. She’d asked him once what he would want his tombstone to say. He said he would never have one. But, she begged him, what if? Stella wouldn’t let up and he knew it. The argument when on a little longer though. He’d pinned her to the floor and said over and over that he would never end up six feet underground. But when she placed her lips on his cheek he gave up, ready to answer just to please her.

“The laws that keep us safe, these same laws condemn us to boredom,” he told her. Like in her memory, Stella smiled. The smile was followed by tears. She had read books to him while they were together in the bath tub, naked in the living room, while eating breakfast in the kitchen. He would never read another book in his life, he told her, because school had ruined his love for reading. But she read to him anyway and he went on making her believe it was an inconvenience to him. It had been several years since she’d read Palahniuk to him, but he knew the quote word for word. They made love on the living room floor then lay there for over an hour saying nothing.

The memory brought a huge pressure to her chest. She doubled forward, trying to make it go away. She rested her head on the gravestone. It was cold and she couldn’t help thinking about how similar it felt to when she found him and touched his forehead and then his neck. It was the first time she realized how cold a human body could be. He’d felt like stone; hard and eternally frigid. At the time she didn’t cry, scream or run away. It didn’t seem real. Rob couldn’t be that cold. There was no way. But his eyes were staring up at her. They were focused right on her face. Maybe she screamed, she didn’t know. She must have called 911, but she didn’t remember it. The paramedics lifted her from the floor and put her on the couch. They asked her name, her relation to the deceased. They asked her if she’d taken anything, if she needed a doctor. She wanted to scream no, but instead she was just quiet.

It was only several days after that she’d left. It was meant to be or that’s how it felt. She packed up her things in one night, sold everything she didn’t need anymore and went to the airport without a ticket. She ended up in Kamloops, British Columbia the next morning with no idea what the hell she was doing there. It was the first time she’d ever left Toronto and she hadn’t even taken a moment to think about it.

Despite the snow soaking through her jeans and the wind chapping her lips and fingers, Stella sat right in front of his gravestone. It was depressing, sitting there, but she couldn't bring herself to cry. In the twenty minutes the sun had already begun to lower in the sky, giving the sky a dull glow. She would stay there until dark if she felt like it. She wanted to make up for lost time, but had no idea what to she was supposed to say. She sang What I Like About You by the Ramones along with her iPod and made time balls of snow. The songs were the only way to keep the thoughts away. But when she song ended she took the headphones from her ears and started at the monument. She knew that she was supposed to apologize. That's what she'd seen them do in the movies. So she made her best attempt.

"This is probably too late. You would tell me how selfish this act is if you were still alive. As if I don't already know. But I'm still sorry that I didn't come to the funeral, that I didn't fix you and..." Her voice caught in her throat. The words wouldn't come out. She'd never said it out loud and that wasn't going to be the first time. It was all too overwhelming. Although the tears didn't come she hugged herself, trying to stop her body from convulsing. She folded her body forward, trying to make the pain in her chest go away.

"Mia! Stop!" The words were in Spanish. They were frantic and came from some where behind Stella. She got to her feet just in time to see Roberto's cousin grab Mia around the waist, pulling her away from the snow and back onto the road.

Mia hadn't changed at all since the year before. There was still a feline beauty about her. Her green, but almost yellow, eyes were fierce. She moved in a prowl line a lioness. Her untamable, cherry red hair only added to the wild appreance. She scratched and crawled at her cousin's arm, twisting to break out of his grip.

If anything had changed it was her parents, Rob's parents. They were aging faster than before. Their hair was beginning to gray. The skin around his mother's chin was loose. Lines were appearing around their eyes and mouthes. But those changes were over-shadowed by the new found hatred in their eyes.

They no longer looked at Stella with love in their expression. She could almost feel how angry they were with her. Stella just wanted a chance to explain. She was sure that in a few words she could make it okay.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Mia screamed from the road. A couple behind her, lighting a candle on a grave, turned from their mourning to watch the scene. Mia had nearly escaped her cousin's completely. He barely had ahold of her elbow. She continued to trash about to break free.

"I just wanted to come and show my respects. Pay my respects," Stella's voice barely left her throat. Rob's parents held on to each other, afraid to let go. Stella wanted to hug them, tell them she was so sorry, but there were no words and she had no effort to yell over Mia.

"You're not welcome here. Why did you come? Just leave!" Her voice was full of tears, but they didn't fall from her eyes. Instead she broke out of her cousin's grasp and made her way across the snow. Her movement were swift and silent. Stella backed up, holding onto Rob's grave to balance her shaking legs.

"Answer me," Mia said, grabbing hold of Stella's jacket. But Stella has no words. She couldn't even bring herself to move.

"You took my brother away from me, from my entire family. You ruined our lives and now you have the nerve to show up here on the most important day and ruin that too. Haven't you done enough damage to my family already?" Mia shook her hard, "Fucking answer me."
Stella didn't resist when Mia pulled her with one hand and shoved her into the snow with the other. Rob's mother began to sob. His father yelled something in Spanish that was too quick for Stella to understand. Stella stayed there, kneeling in the snow. No one moved to help her up. No one even looked in her direction. She wanted to cry, but swallowed the lump in her throat and stared at the snow. She willed the tears to go away.

"Just go," Mia growled into her ear, standing over her, only inches away. Putting her bare hands into the snow, Stella pushed her self to her feet. Without looking, Stella could feel that all the eyes were on her as she made her away across the snow toward the road. her legs wouldn't move fast enough to get her out of there. She put her ear buds back into her ears and turned the music up.

She was cold, damp and alone. The idea of going back to Lucy's sympathetic smiles, Parker's douche bag attitude and the absence of Charlie was unappealing. She'd come back to Toronto with the idea that there would be something there for her, some support, some help. But it was more lonley than it had ever been out west even though there was no one to talk to other than her aunt there. All her expectations had been wrong and the feeling that accompanied that realization was agonizing. Her legs nearly gave out, but she continued to walk toward the exit. She thought about calling a cab, but she had no idea where she would ask him to go. her mother would be annoyed with her mood. There was no space at her brother's place. It was New Years day and everything was closed. "Stella."

Her music was so loud that she brushed it off as her imagination, but turned the volume down, just in case. But there was no denying the arms that wrapped around her from behind. They squeezed her arms straight to her side, so tight that she couldn't move. She didn't want to. For almost a full minute she allowed the unknown person to hold her still. Their breath was warm on her neck. She put her face close to it, resting her head against someone else's. Finally, she turned to face him. It was Charlie. He was clean shaven, smelling of shampoo and cologne. She ran her fingers through his curls, touched his soft face and began to cry. His arms wrapped around her back. he forced her head against his neck and said nothing. It was a moment she'd been waiting for since the plane landed. It was such a relief that she couldn't stop the tears. Charlie took Stella by the hand and led her to the silver Mazda 3 that was idling next to the road. He made sure she was buckled in the passenger seat before getting into the car him self. He turned off the MSTRKRFT album that was playing and headed west.

"Do you want to talk?" He asked her. His voice was high. He was nervous. To put him at ease Stella responded, "no. Let's just drive somewhere and sit."

“The beaches?” He asked. Stella just nodded.

*****

There was a stuffed bear sitting on the front lawn when Parker arrived. Half of it’s body was in the snow. The other half, its bottom half, stuck straight up in the air. Parker grabbed it’s loose leg as he walked by, dusting the snow off as he headed up the steps to the house. The bear’s fur was matted, as if it had been out there for the entire season. There was an eye missing. Before knocking on the door he tossed it onto the wicker chair on the front stoop.

“Who the fuck is it?” A voice called from inside.

“I shouldn’t even dignify that question with an answer,” Parker said, “Why do you tell me to call you before I get here if you’re going to interrogate me every time, bro.”

The lock clicked open and a tall, black man with tiny eyes stared down at him. He was shirtless, wearing a pair of oversized jeans, held up with rope, a make-shift belt. The man was also shoeless and his toenails were over grown, yellowing. There was a sour smell that accompanied him. Parker began to breathe through his mouth, just like he always did.

“You look like shit, Jack,” Parker pointed out, “maybe take a break from the pipe?”

They moved into the house. The foyer was littered with old newspaper and junk mail. The recycling bin in the corner was over filled, seemingly a long time ago. The smell was strong in the house. It made Parker’s eyes water, even breathing through his mouth. They moved down the hallway toward the living room where music was playing from the surround sound.

“Yo, what are you listening to? Tell me this ain’t Lil John. He’s a mockery of modern hip-hop.” Parker laughed out loud.

“You got a problem, you know where to find the fuckin’ door,” Jack said while he turned to a pair of oversized men sitting on the couch. They were just waiting for the command to jump Parker.

“What they gon’ do,” Parker laughed, raising his arms up in the air and waving them around. Jack rolled his eyes and said, “Take a seat, kid, before I get you removed for good.”

“You got Shake? Ying Yang Twins?” Parker asked, dancing around the living room a little. He laughed and rubbed the bald head of one of Jack’s ‘friends’. The man growled, but didn’t move from his spot, didn’t even uncross his huge arms.

“I play it you shut up and sit the fuck down?” Jack asked, pulling two small bags of white powder from a drawer beneath the table. Parker no longer needed the music to curve his attention, but said, “Yeah, man, I’ll keep quiet.”

“Slim, put the song on for the kid so we can all get a lil peace around here,” Jack ordered the bigger of the two men. Parker expected him to get up from the couch. He always hoped to see the big man struggle. But he didn’t move anything excepted for his arm. From the table beside him he grabbed the iPod and scrolled through the playlist. Within moments ‘Shake’ started.

“You need to watch your mouth around here, kid,” Jack said adding another baggie to Parker’s take-home, “I don’t like your lip.”

“It’s part of my charm,” Parker said with a straight face, eyeing up his score.

“It’s part of what’s gonna get you knocked off. I’m not tell you this as a friend, kid. I don’t even like you and we’re all getting sick and tired of hearin’ your mouth flap around here,” Jack took the third baggie and put it back in the drawer. His hand stretched out in Parker’s direction and his fingers twitched.

“You’ll put up with it. I never buy on credit and I always bring you business. You need me,” Parker said, grabbing the loot from the table before pulling the roll of money from his pocket. He slammed it into Jack’s hand and said, “Tell me if I’m wrong.”

“Eventually the connections and the money runs out. Let me just tell you somethin’, when it does don’t come ‘round here no more. Got it?” Jack shoved the money into his jean pocket and stood up, waiting for Parker to stand as well.

Parker stayed seated, pulled his phone from his pocket and noticed four missed calls. He slipped it back into his white jeans, zipped up his coat then stood with a smirk on his face. He stretched and said, “You’ll miss me when I’m gone, Jack.”

“I’ll miss your daddy’s pay check. Get the fuck out of my house,” Jack told him attempting to stare him down. Parker nodded at the men on the couch and said, “thanks for the jams” while walking out of the room. Jack followed and locked the door behind him. Parker laughed as he stood on the stoop. It was never a dull moment at Jack’s. He grabbed the teddy bear from the chair and headed toward the street car. It was New Year’s day. It was time to relax.

*****

“We’re in here!” Parker’s voice sounded down the hallway as Stella and Charlie walked up the stairs holding hands. The house was dark. There were no lights on and they didn’t bother to fix that. Instead they made their way to the second floor with the intention of sleeping the night away. Their intentions were pointless because Lucy ran out of the room in only her tiny, black underwear and matching bra. She was lit up by the yellow light coming from Parker’s bedroom. From the front she didn’t look so emaciated, but as they got closer the view was almost sickening. Stella was sure she could see Lucy’s large intestine bulging against the thin layer of stomach skin. Charlie couldn’t look up from his feet. Stella couldn’t look away.

“Come in! We’re cuddling,” Lucy said as she ran into the bedroom and yelped with excitement.

“Cuddling?” Stella whispered to Charlie with raised eye brows.

“She’s probably not joking. Parker doesn’t shit where he eats, you know what I mean?” Charlie kind of laughed, but headed into the bedroom. Stella followed with hesitation.The room was cleaner than she assumed. There were no clothes on the floor. No dirty plates left laying around. There was a huge fish tank with four mini sharks. His laptop was open, playing Frankmusik at low volume. Stella refrained from saying how much she liked the song. Her eyes scanned the blue walls. There were no cut pages ripped out from Playboy. There were no car or sports posters. Above the head of his bed was a huge print of Stella’s later photographs. It was the same size as the original; a 24 x 36 simple black frame. The girl in the photograph, her name was Cindy. She was laying topless upside down on a couch in only a pair of black, transparent tights. Her eyelids were painted black. Her lips were red and parted slightly. She was reaching out toward the camera. The original had sold for $150. When Parker saw her eyeing it he said, “I’ll sell it to you for thirty bucks.”

Parker was sitting in his American Apparel boxer-briefs, cross legged in front of a mirror about the side of a hand. Lucy grabbed Charlie’s shirt and pulled it over his head. When she reached for Stella’s, Stella backed away and laughed nervously.

“Prude?”

“Take it easy, Parker,” Charlie said pulling his pants off and climbing into the bed. Stella was amazed at how fit Charlie was now, as if he’d been working out. When he noticed she was staring he flexed his muscles and asked, “Lookin’ good?”

“Totally hot,” Lucy shouted, jumping onto the king-size bed. Parker laughed and wrapped his arms around Lucy’s small frame. They fell back onto the mattress and giggled together. Stella saw the two bags of coke on the night stand and thought about leaving the room. It had been two years since she’d done even a single line. Seeing it after all the time that past made it tempting and the temptation was terrifying.

“I’ve got something for you,” Charlie whispered to Stella. He left Stella alone in the room with Lucy’s high pitch screams and Parker watching her, judging her. Being surrounded by so much skin made her feel awkward. She wanted to leave, but Charlie came back and handed her a 26 ounce bottle of Cuban rum. The lid was already off and when Stella offered it to Charlie he shook his head.

“I’m just starting to feel the effects of the hang over now. I think I’ll hold off,” he laughed while climbing onto the bed with his friends. Lucy reached out, trying to grab Stella’s hand. Stella kept her hands in her jacket sleeves, but moved onto the bed to sit in a circle with them. She couldn’t watch while six lines were cut onto the mirror and each took a turn inhaling one up their nose. Even the sound was making it hard to smile when someone told a joke. To ignore it, she drank. Three huge mouthfuls later and she tossed her jacket from the bed and onto the floor. Another two gulps later and Lucy had her off the bed, dancing to the music coming from the laptop. They turned it up as loud as it went and danced around to the song like they were in a club, like the boys weren’t watching them.

“Where did you meet her?” Parker laughed, shaking his head and rubbing his nose.

“Stella?”

“Yeah, man. She’s a weird girl. I don’t get it.” Parker touched his face. It had less feeling then normal. He liked it.

“I’ve known her since we were kids. I used to beat her up,” Charlie giggled, remember the time his mother grounded him for a week because he hit a girl. He tried to tell her it was a fair fight, but there was no point in speaking. His mother wouldn’t listen.

“I’ve heard so much about this girl. Everyone knows her. She doesn’t live up to the hype, Charles.” Parker furrowed his eye brows and watched her dance. She was awkward. Her limbs moved to the beat, but too cautious to look like she was having any fun.

“First of all, fuck you. Secondly, it takes her a while to come out of her safety zone. A lot of drinks usually,” Charlie said with a small sigh. He hoped that things hadn’t changed too much. He wanted the old Stella back. He missed her.

Well, I wouldn’t say a lot of drinks,” Parker laughed loudly. Charlie turned at the girls. Lucy was bra-less. Her small breasts bounced as she jumped around the bedroom floor, yelling the lyrics toward the ceiling. And in the few moments Charlie’s attention had been on the conversation, Stella has lost her jacket and pants. She danced around in only her black socks and the oversized Operation Ivy t-shirt she’d been wearing for two days. The hair tie she’d been wearing had come loose and strands fell every which way. Parker snorted another line and said, “I still don’t get it.” He ignored yet another call from Mia.