Chapter 5

Years passed. I became a loner. My old friends got the message and left me alone. I was quiet and polite. People would say I was shy. Truth was I just didn’t care. I became an observer rather than an actor. I stood away from most of the typical high-school groups. I didn’t fit in any of them.

My dad asked me how I was doing and feeling every day, even when I didn’t show any signs. I kept getting good grades and hanging out with boys my age when I had to.

“Are you okay, son?”

“Yeah, I am Dad.”

None of us was much of a talker. He never pushed me to talk about my feelings, but he let me know he was there for me if I needed him.

I remember how embarrassed I felt the first Parents’ Night when only Dad came with me. I’m pretty sure Dad felt the same way.

One of the teachings my parent’s divorce had taught me was that ‘happily ever after’ didn’t really exist. I became the cynic in the back of the cinema who couldn’t buy into the idea of the couple riding off into the sunset. I found it hard to trust people, especially girls.

Well, all girls except for one.

My crying and brooding place was a big weeping willow back by the creek. It had a big fork up among the branches where I could sit and view the farms and the forests all around, completely hidden from everyone. It seemed fitting to have a secret crying place in a weeping willow.

I would sit there brooding and listening to the wind rustling in the leaves.

“Red?” a female voice asked from below. “Red, is that you?”

I looked down at a skinny girl dressed in raggedy clothes. It was Katherine. We weren’t exactly friends, but we’d known each other since Junior-High.

“Kat?”

She looked as if she was in pain.

“You look like you were crying,” she said.

It had been my birthday. It was one of those days in the year when the anger and frustration became so unbearable that I stayed away from everyone. My eyes were probably red and puffy. It was obvious that I’d been crying, like it was that she was in sad too.

“Yeah, well, it sucks to be me,” I said with a shrug.

She climbed the tree and sat at my side. She gently raised her sleeves to reveal massive bruising on the inside of her arms. She lowered the sleeves back again.

“What happened to you?” I asked, swallowing hard.

“It sucks to be me too.” She said.

When you suffer you easily recognize the suffering of someone else. And the shared pain created a bond between us.

“Do you come here to cry?” she asked.

I just shrugged.

“I cry here too.” She admitted.

“Sometimes, I wish my parents wouldn’t have divorced” I said. “I didn’t think my mother would ever leave Dad for another man. Dad was never the same after that. He never recovered. His pride took a serious hit.”

She nodded.

“I wish my father was dead,” she said in a barely audible whisper. “It doesn’t take much for him get drunk and lose control.”

In a small town like ours there were no secrets. I made a few discreet enquiries and discovered that Kat’s father was a gambler and a drinker who was always angry and abusive. At times, if he had lost money in a poker game, he used to get drunk and beat the shit out of Kat’s mother. Kat had gotten her bruises trying to prevent her father from hitting her mother.

It was said in hushed voices that Kat’s mother had started to drink too. The police showed up several times at the Davis trailer, but Kat’s mother always refused to file a police report.

“Why don’t you tell the school counselor about your family situation?” I asked Kat once.

“This is the way things have always been, and there’s nothing I can do. It’s my fault because I try to stop him beating frommy mother.”

“Kat, this is not your fault.”

She shrugged. “Can we talk about something else, please? Anything else?”

“Whatever you say, as long as you know that if you need someone to talk to about this, you can talk to me.”

Acting on impulse, she hugged me.

“I’m happy spending time with you, Red; there’s nothing I can do to change my life or my situation.”

I think she was afraid I would go to her house and kick her father’s ass, or worse, that I would leave her alone because she was too flawed.

Kat and I became good friends. My first post-divorce friend. With time we relaxed around each other. There were no secrets between us. I could talk with her about anything, about the divorce and about my feelings. Kat never made fun of me or thought I was stupid for feeling the way I felt. No matter what I said. Kat was really good at comforting me when I was upset or sad. I did the same for her.

“Here’s a little secret between you and me: I hate Christmas,” I told her when December came. “My Dad tries to look happy without succeeding.”

“I hate it too.” Kat agreed. “Everything around you is wrapped in green, red and white lights, sending the message that you should be happy and joyful It can feel especially lonely to have moments where you feel like an odd Grinch out.”

“Exactly! I listen to lots of boys and girls telling me about the presents they’re going to get. Why do my presents no longer mean to me as much as they did?”

That winter Kat grew some inches and developed curves, and guys started to notice her. The popular girls let her hang with them, because she was kind of pretty and boys were attracted to her. She was never part of the elite, but her presence was tolerated.

Our talks at the willow tree become sparser till I was alone again.

I never held it against Kat. In fact, I was happy for her. She didn’t look happy with her new group of friends, but that wasn’t my problem.

During my Junior Year, Janice, the leader of the popular girls, started pursuing me relentlessly for weeks.

She left me notes in my locker, all decorated with hearts saying things like: “Red, you seem pretty lonely. I would like to get to know you and be your friend.”

I had no idea why she was doing it. Maybe I was a challenge for her. I was pretty sure that everyone in high school thought I was a loser. I wasn’t a jock, I wasn’t popular, and I wasn’t even open or easy going. I never thought any girl would be interested in me, much less a girl like Janice.

Somehow, she found a way to pass through my defenses. She kept following me around. Sitting with me at lunch. Writing me notes. She literally wore me down. I slowly responded to her chase. I’d never had a girlfriend, and she wouldn’t leave me alone.