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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 weren’t singing, we were telling jokes. And when we weren’t telling jokes, we were talking, getting to know each other more. All we needed were a few beers and it’d be a hell of a time. The one night we decided to stop at a bar called McNulty’s 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. “Darien,” interrupted Sal, “I think it’s time for us to get going.” He took me by my arm, spinning me around on the barstool. But, I didn’t want to leave and became immediately aggressive. “No, I think I’ll stay here,” I replied, wrenching my arm free. “If you didn’t notice, I’m busy at the moment.” I jerked my head in the girl’s 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. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I shouted at Sal. People were starting to stare at the commotion. “You have no right to push me,” stated the girl, grabbing my shoulder. I slapped her hand away. “Don’t touch me, bitch,” 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. “Darien, you’re drunk and don’t know what you’re doing. Let’s go.” 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. “What were you trying to pull back there?” His face was full of anger, but his eyes had nervousness written all over them. Confused, I replied, “I have no clue what you’re talking about. I was having a good time.” “Having a good time my ass.” As I shook my head and began to walk back towards the front door, Sal grabbed me by my shoulders. “No,” he said firmly. “And why the hell not?” I yelled. “I’m not a child, Sal. For Heaven’s sake! And what makes you think you can tell me what to do?” His grip on me loosened and he looked hurt. “Let’s just say you’ll regret it if you do. And, just to let you know, I care about your well-being.” Once again he had a worried look in his eyes. I was extremely confused. “What makes you think I’d regret it?” I asked, leaving all thoughts of going back to the bar. “Well, for starters, I don’t know who that woman was back there, but whoever she was, you know she’s not Julia.” “Wait, how do you know about Julia?” I didn’t remember ever telling him of her existence. “You 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?” I shrugged my shoulders. “Didn’t you even realize what just happened right before I pulled you out of there?” “Yeah, you pushed that bitch off my lap and then took me out here.” Sal shook his head. “What happened then, smart ass?” “Don’t you talk to me like that,” he interjected pointing a finger at me. I snorted. “You’d swear you were my father or something…” My eyes narrowed. “No, but he sure was shining through your eyes tonight,” Sal replied, almost in a whisper. My eyes widened. “I hope you didn’t just say what I think you said.” But I knew I had heard right. I fell against the wall and then to the ground. I started pulling at my hair. “Fuck.” “C’mon, let’s get you back to the house. You’ll have a hangover soon and it would be better to ride it out where there’s a bed near by.” He bent down to help me up, but I pushed him away. “No, just leave me here. Go ahead. It’s what everyone else I’ve known has done my entire life.” I paused and let out a sigh. “I don’t know why I even try sometimes.” There was a long pause and then Sal said in reply, “Because you care and you believe in what you’re fighting for.” I looked up at him and he held out his hand to help me up. “Just because your history is flawed, it doesn’t mean you can’t be happy in the end.” I don’t remember anything after that, but I know I got back to Sal’s 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. “I was hoping the smell of food would make you hungry,” he stated, without turning from the stove. “I take it you’re feeling better then?” “Physically, yes.” 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, “I think we should stray away from bars for a while. Or, at least hard liquor.” He gave me a look of complete seriousness. I nodded. “I don’t want to see another incident like that. You almost gave yourself away last night.” He sat down across from me with his plate. “Do you really think I meant for that to happen?” 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 night’s events. Noticing how quiet I was, Sal asked, “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what do you remember about last night?” 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. “Darien?” repeated Sal, waiting for my answer. “I remember everything,” I lied. “Bullshit,” replied Sal. “You know, you’re a horrible liar.” “Maybe you’re a horrible interpreter.” “You know what?” said Sal, raising his voice a little. “I’m getting sick of your smart ass comments. Every question that I ask you I receive some cocky answer for.” I sat up and leaned over the table a little. “Well, you know what I’m getting sick of?” I paused for a moment. “This new fatherly act you’ve got going on. I mean, man, what the fuck?” Sal leaned back in his chair, raising his one eyebrow. “Fatherly act?” he confusedly asked. “Yeah. You’ve gone from a friend who saved me from the worst to someone trying to be a parental figure. And, I’m sorry to break this to you, but I’m twenty-seven fucking years old!” “Well, you sure haven’t been acting like it.” I flipped him off. “Oh yeah, that’s real maturity right there,” he replied sarcastically. “Look, all I’m trying to say is lay off me a bit, okay? I’ve been without a parental figure for twelve years now and I’m not use to being treated like a child anymore. I was made an adult at fifteen years old, fell in love at eighteen—” “And had your pride broken at twenty-three, I know,” he interrupted. My mouth hung open for a few seconds and then I asked, “How did you know that?” “How many shots do you remember having last night?” “I remember five,” I answered uncertainly. “Or maybe six…” “Well, I remember paying for twenty-seven.” My mouth dropped. “Twenty-seven? How the hell was I standing at the end of last night?” Sal shrugged his shoulders. “Truthfully, 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.” I put my head down on the table. I couldn’t believe I drank as much as I had. More than anything, I couldn’t believe what I had told him. At that point I still didn’t know what I had exactly said. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know either. “It’s alright, Darien,” Sal said, trying to comfort me. I started shaking my head. “You needed that. Now, maybe, I can help you heal.” “No, no, you just don’t get it!” I shouted, sitting up furiously. “Those thoughts, feelings, and memories that poured out of me last night— I never wanted anyone, and I mean anyone, to know about.” I put my head in my hands and out of frustration let out an incoherent groan. “Darien,” Sal replied, put a hand on my one shoulder, “I can help you get through this.” “Just leave me alone,” I stated without looking up. After not feeling him move from the spot, I stood up and grabbed him by the neck. “Damn it, Sal! Could you for once try not to be a mentor?!” 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. “Oh God, I’m sorry Sal,” I said, trying to heal him. “I don’t know what just happened.” As he stood up though, he pushed me away. “Alright, I’m going to leave and pretend this never happened. Then, tomorrow, once you’re quieted down a bit, we need to talk.” His neck was already starting to bruise. “But, I didn’t mean—” “I know you didn’t, but you need some time to cool off before I can attempt to get through to you. Obviously, it’s still too early and the wounds are still too fresh.” “What are you talking about?” 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 couldn’t 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 don’t 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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