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Falling is only the beginning. |
| As the weeks went by, Sal and I got to know each other. Most of our time together was spent in his pick-up truck, with the music blasting, the windows down, and Shadow sitting on my lap. We drove anywhere and everywhere, sometimes with no fixed destination. When we werenât singing, we were telling jokes. And when we werenât telling jokes, we were talking, getting to know each other more. All we needed were a few beers and itâd be a hell of a time. The one night we decided to stop at a bar called McNultyâs for a drink. Sal ordered a whiskey on the rocks and I decided a shot of bourbon would be sufficient. As the night went on though, one shot turned into two. Two became three and so on, until I was completely trashed. Vague memories of the night remain fixed in my mind, one in particular. Sal told the bartender I had had enough. My tolerance then was much lower than it is now. I remember him looking at me and the girl in my lap. She must have been a hooker of some sorts. I was laughing merrily at something she had just said. âDarien,â interrupted Sal, âI think itâs time for us to get going.â He took me by my arm, spinning me around on the barstool. But, I didnât want to leave and became immediately aggressive. âNo, I think Iâll stay here,â I replied, wrenching my arm free. âIf you didnât notice, Iâm busy at the moment.â I jerked my head in the girlâs direction. Sal walked back to me and pushed her off my leg. I unsteadily stood up with an angry expression on my face. I could hear the girl getting up off the floor, but my mind was already on something other than her. âWhat the fuck do you think youâre doing?â I shouted at Sal. People were starting to stare at the commotion. âYou have no right to push me,â stated the girl, grabbing my shoulder. I slapped her hand away. âDonât touch me, bitch,â I shot at her, feeling an unexplainable irate feeling creeping up from somewhere around my abdominal region. I looked back at Sal, whose eyes opened wide. âDarien, youâre drunk and donât know what youâre doing. Letâs go.â He pulled me by the neck of my shirt and pushed me out the door. Once we were outside, he pushed me against the wall and started yelling at me. âWhat were you trying to pull back there?â His face was full of anger, but his eyes had nervousness written all over them. Confused, I replied, âI have no clue what youâre talking about. I was having a good time.â âHaving a good time my ass.â As I shook my head and began to walk back towards the front door, Sal grabbed me by my shoulders. âNo,â he said firmly. âAnd why the hell not?â I yelled. âIâm not a child, Sal. For Heavenâs sake! And what makes you think you can tell me what to do?â His grip on me loosened and he looked hurt. âLetâs just say youâll regret it if you do. And, just to let you know, I care about your well-being.â Once again he had a worried look in his eyes. I was extremely confused. âWhat makes you think Iâd regret it?â I asked, leaving all thoughts of going back to the bar. âWell, for starters, I donât know who that woman was back there, but whoever she was, you know sheâs not Julia.â âWait, how do you know about Julia?â I didnât remember ever telling him of her existence. âYou just told me about how much you miss her right before that hooker came over and sat on your lap. God, how many shots did you have?â I shrugged my shoulders. âDidnât you even realize what just happened right before I pulled you out of there?â âYeah, you pushed that bitch off my lap and then took me out here.â Sal shook his head. âWhat happened then, smart ass?â âDonât you talk to me like that,â he interjected pointing a finger at me. I snorted. âYouâd swear you were my father or somethingâŚâ My eyes narrowed. âNo, but he sure was shining through your eyes tonight,â Sal replied, almost in a whisper. My eyes widened. âI hope you didnât just say what I think you said.â But I knew I had heard right. I fell against the wall and then to the ground. I started pulling at my hair. âFuck.â âCâmon, letâs get you back to the house. Youâll have a hangover soon and it would be better to ride it out where thereâs a bed near by.â He bent down to help me up, but I pushed him away. âNo, just leave me here. Go ahead. Itâs what everyone else Iâve known has done my entire life.â I paused and let out a sigh. âI donât know why I even try sometimes.â There was a long pause and then Sal said in reply, âBecause you care and you believe in what youâre fighting for.â I looked up at him and he held out his hand to help me up. âJust because your history is flawed, it doesnât mean you canât be happy in the end.â I donât remember anything after that, but I know I got back to Salâs house and into bed. My hangover the next day was the worst I had ever experienced. I spent most of the day in bed or hanging over the toilet bowl. By that evening, though, I felt somewhat better and headed to the kitchen to round up something to eat. Sal had beaten me to it, standing in the kitchen already preparing some kind of pasta. âI was hoping the smell of food would make you hungry,â he stated, without turning from the stove. âI take it youâre feeling better then?â âPhysically, yes.â My mind was still focused on the only thing I could remember. I sat down and leaned my head on my one hand. Bringing over a plate with ziti and marinara sauce on it, he said, âI think we should stray away from bars for a while. Or, at least hard liquor.â He gave me a look of complete seriousness. I nodded. âI donât want to see another incident like that. You almost gave yourself away last night.â He sat down across from me with his plate. âDo you really think I meant for that to happen?â I asked in reply. He shook his head and there was an awkward silence in which I ate my dinner. After I was finished, I sat back in my chair thinking about the previous nightâs events. Noticing how quiet I was, Sal asked, âSo, if you donât mind me asking, what do you remember about last night?â I looked up at him and then averted my eyes elsewhere. At first I said nothing and crossed my arms, because, truthfully, I felt ashamed I had let myself get so drunk. âDarien?â repeated Sal, waiting for my answer. âI remember everything,â I lied. âBullshit,â replied Sal. âYou know, youâre a horrible liar.â âMaybe youâre a horrible interpreter.â âYou know what?â said Sal, raising his voice a little. âIâm getting sick of your smart ass comments. Every question that I ask you I receive some cocky answer for.â I sat up and leaned over the table a little. âWell, you know what Iâm getting sick of?â I paused for a moment. âThis new fatherly act youâve got going on. I mean, man, what the fuck?â Sal leaned back in his chair, raising his one eyebrow. âFatherly act?â he confusedly asked. âYeah. Youâve gone from a friend who saved me from the worst to someone trying to be a parental figure. And, Iâm sorry to break this to you, but Iâm twenty-seven fucking years old!â âWell, you sure havenât been acting like it.â I flipped him off. âOh yeah, thatâs real maturity right there,â he replied sarcastically. âLook, all Iâm trying to say is lay off me a bit, okay? Iâve been without a parental figure for twelve years now and Iâm not use to being treated like a child anymore. I was made an adult at fifteen years old, fell in love at eighteenââ âAnd had your pride broken at twenty-three, I know,â he interrupted. My mouth hung open for a few seconds and then I asked, âHow did you know that?â âHow many shots do you remember having last night?â âI remember five,â I answered uncertainly. âOr maybe sixâŚâ âWell, I remember paying for twenty-seven.â My mouth dropped. âTwenty-seven? How the hell was I standing at the end of last night?â Sal shrugged his shoulders. âTruthfully, I have no idea. It must be the demon in you. But, yeah, you told me your life story with every shot you took, starting with number five.â I put my head down on the table. I couldnât believe I drank as much as I had. More than anything, I couldnât believe what I had told him. At that point I still didnât know what I had exactly said. I wasnât sure if I wanted to know either. âItâs alright, Darien,â Sal said, trying to comfort me. I started shaking my head. âYou needed that. Now, maybe, I can help you heal.â âNo, no, you just donât get it!â I shouted, sitting up furiously. âThose thoughts, feelings, and memories that poured out of me last nightâ I never wanted anyone, and I mean anyone, to know about.â I put my head in my hands and out of frustration let out an incoherent groan. âDarien,â Sal replied, put a hand on my one shoulder, âI can help you get through this.â âJust leave me alone,â I stated without looking up. After not feeling him move from the spot, I stood up and grabbed him by the neck. âDamn it, Sal! Could you for once try not to be a mentor?!â I could feel my face growing hotter the more I squeezed his neck. I could see Sal choking and gasping for air for almost a minute before I realized what I was doing. I quickly let go of him and he fell to the ground, rubbing his neck. I bent down to help him, all anger gone. âOh God, Iâm sorry Sal,â I said, trying to heal him. âI donât know what just happened.â As he stood up though, he pushed me away. âAlright, Iâm going to leave and pretend this never happened. Then, tomorrow, once youâre quieted down a bit, we need to talk.â His neck was already starting to bruise. âBut, I didnât meanââ âI know you didnât, but you need some time to cool off before I can attempt to get through to you. Obviously, itâs still too early and the wounds are still too fresh.â âWhat are you talking about?â I asked in reply. Sal said nothing but exited the kitchen and walked down the hall. Seconds later, his bedroom door slammed and the kitchen was filled with an eerie, tense silence. I let out a sigh and turned to the staircase. I felt like shit. In the past 24 hours, I had gone from having a good time with Sal to almost killing him. I couldnât understand what had driven me to do so. That was the first loss of control I had ever felt in my life. I entered my room and headed straight for the bed. I kicked off my boots, which I assumed had never been taken off in the past day, and put my head in my hands. I remember looking at my hands, wanting to cut them off for what they had done. I donât know how long I sat there, trying to figure out why I had purposely choked Sal. I tried to tell myself then that it was due to high tension and temporary insanity. I ignored the fact that as I watched him suffer at my hands I had enjoyed it. After what seemed like hours, I fell into an uncomfortable sleep. |
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