Agreed with her we would stay in contact when I got back to school. She headed out with Tamer to the last touring town. I was headed to a town most elders would shine on with disgrace. I coincide that we went in opposite directions, my sister and I, but in coincidental motives we were both going up equal paths.
Our escape from the night led us far away. We headed to Utah where his Aunt claimed homestead. There were places in my mind I thought always to navigate towards, Salt Lake City, was one of them. Growing up in a small community lead you to believe the world was one way. Our rules didn’t apply to the mongrels and hooligans outside our fenced in lives. There is much to put up for debate, but what I can say from experience, they lied about the splendor of the outlandish dominion.
Skyscrapers rose high up. Buildings with influential names and labels intimidating competition at each corner. The sidewalks and the people observant and in love. Hundreds and hundreds of them driving, walking around. They knew me not yet we were still connected.
Aunt Macee drove us all around town. She was a lovely lady. Dressed always in some sort of white, her long brown hair dropping through the tips of the breeze. She gave us a grand tour, showing us The Mormon’s temple, we were not allowed inside without documentation of approval. We drove past the hospital building on a hill where she told me Briggs was born.
“My handsome baby nephew, 7 pounds and 8 ounces!” Smiles sweetly at us in the rear view mirror. “The 3rd floor, 4th window to the right.” Points her perfectly shaped fingernails, manicured white and gold.
“Shame about my baby sister getting wrapped up with such a wretched soul. Briggs did get his good looks though.” Caress the back side of her hand.
“Aunt Macee.” Briggs obviously uncomfortable about her storytelling.
“Did Brigglee tell you, how she overdosed while in labor? How unstable and unfortunate could that young girl be?” She countered his nickname in plain view. Her words flooding images, of what exactly occurred the day of his birth. Briggs silently swallowing all potential to keep his reservations from her sight.
“Macee!”
“Oh! Come on it’s all in the history books and yesterday’s paper. How else is she going to find out? No one informed her of why you are the way you are Brigglee.” Soft cheeks pouting out her lips.
“Trae Lae knows everything.” Defenses growing clearer as speech of his once loved mother grew negative.
“Do I not get to mourn aloud for others to hear? Not a stranger to comfort my sorrows with sympathetic stares?” Melodramatic flings from her arms increasing the level of selfishness Briggs would accept.
“Stop bringing up remorseful memories of days that did not include you! You use that day as a pawn to play the pity card with people. Newsflash you couldn’t have cared much less about my mother. Deep down inside I know you despise the fact I grew up under equal rooftops same as your kin.” His breath hot and heavy his veins popping, calling for retaliation. “My mother died that day. And because of you I will always have the worst image of the woman she could have been. You have placed the most awful outlooks into my cranium making me believe I was grateful for her demise.” Shifts in the back seat made me want to squeeze into the trunk. “In all honesty I wish only to have known her for one day, one hour, one minute. Before you plagued the portico of a mother I once imagined to be loving and loyal to my childhood.” His outbreak shook me in a way that surprised everybody. The passion of his rage producing sweat on his brow. Fists tighter in a calm, controllable way.
“How dare you have an outbreak in front your new lady, Brigglee” Aunt Macee’s grip on the steering wheel tight.
Pressure on the gas pedal connected it with the floor. Aunt Macee speed in the opposite direction. Curves and swirls of the road bringing us to an iron gated community. Long driveways making it clear no one welcomed guests, let alone the kindness of neighbors.
Victorian posts placed perfectly in front of the domicile. Grass neatly cut in comparison to outgrown branches perfectly tweaked. Strides to the front door seemed unimportant as my thoughts raced wild with childhood memories involving Malachi and Aubrie Ayn.
Transitions cut to present day showing me slide-show clips of the man I came to know, once the troubled boy I fended wayward from.
Did Briggs have insight to the skirmish of my thoughts? Squeezing tightly the fingertips I claimed identity to. I weakly gave a shy smile, shoving all aspirations into Aunt Macee’s corridor. Acknowledged the brilliant artwork of artist names I would never know to memorize. I envisioned his home to be as his apartment back in Idaho; typical if not evident of some social status.
“See you two love birds at supper!” Giving us flimsy wave as she retired to her lounge room.
“Is your Aunt Macee going to be okay?” I hid behind his pulsating muscles.
“She’s good! Nothing a vodka tonic won’t fix. Besides she has been getting on my nerves lately.”
“How long has that been building up?” I wondered, curiosity peeking through my words.
“Twenty-two years and counting.” Simple as his smile was I was happy to do my part. Convey to him back to anodyne footings.
“A long time… explains the whole you ruined everything good in my life speech.” Winked at his practical transition to their relationship. Briggs scrunched his face. “Don’t worry I’ve had mine a time or two. One of the adolescent outbreaks received excommunication.” Statements left to try to lighten the damped mood.
Kisses the top of my head, he understood and stopped visions of arguments swirling around his head.
“She’ll understand one day.” He promised himself. Hope to myself that it were to be true.
“You okay, Trae Lae?” Questioning my movements looking for the closest route. The towering structure above me swaying.
“I’m fine. I’m in need of some fresh air, excuse me.” The arms dropped that held me solitary.
The backyard opened up and welcomed the view of the valley. In the midst of heat waves hovering above the city, I found a comfort in knowing that I stood above it all. Watching and spectating now that I was the object to look upon.
The sunlight making it difficult to see beyond the horizon. Fully knowing beyond the enchantment of the rolling hills, my family sat quietly at their wooden tables. Munching quietly at the aspect of existing there. Belonged to the namesake of my grandfather.
◊
We were sitting draped in one another’s arms. He executed most of the coddling, while I contributed to his vulnerable demeanor. His aunt brought us hot chocolate, smiling at us; always. No apologizes quoted to each other as she scurried from the area.
He corresponds his paces, with fidgeting of fingers. I didn’t say it out loud, I couldn’t, not yet. There were times several times when self-doubt and autographed fiction aligned.
It didn’t take long to get into the habit of each other. I clung to him and he gladly, if not happily took me as the golden prize he’d been gallant to nurture for. What association of prize I was, certain to obtain the title for such romanticism.
When you turn the corner and see that old familiar face and wonder how long it has been; days, weeks or moments? Missing you, was never part of the plan.
Loving me was indefinite.
Far out among the stars. Being in love with someone; I've heard of fairytales before, and the tragic princess always got her wonderful prince charming. Whether in form of frog or not. Your disposition didn't line up like the rest of the characters I was taught not to listen to.
I memorized the first time you strolled across the lone lobby; stretching farther into slow motion than I thought capable or even possible. My heart pounding loud at terrifying echoes in the surrounding area.
Will you wish with me for one minute?
The time it took you to get to me, for you to become mine and I yours. Did I close my eyes grasping the very minutes you were about to change for me? Let's go back to this
time; where you were you and I was me. Witnessing the disruption; we became a part of what we were forbidden from, love.