Do Unto Others

Chapter 6

Note: All past happenings are in italics.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Justin…

My face twists in pain as the nurse holds onto my right arm. "I'm sorry if I'm hurting you," she tells me as she squeezes out her cloth and starts to wipe the soap from my arm. I don't say anything. The act of her having to help me is bad enough without the added humility of awkward, silence-filling speech.

"You have really nice skin," she says as she dries my arm and lays it down gently.

I look down at my arm. I don't see my skin. I see purple and black marks, contaminated with splotches of red; broken blood vessels that tried desperately to protest the strong fingers that held me in place.

I close my eyes and turn my head as far away from her as possible. I can feel the cool material of the hospital gown leave my body and I start to shake. "Are you cold?" She asks me. I bite my lip as one tear escapes and runs for cover down my cheek. "We're almost done."

She removes the brace and starts to wash my torso; slow, gently moving circles.

"Mmmm… hang in there for me. We're almost done," he says as he thrusts into me, pressing my chest into the floor. My eyes shoot open as he grips my arms tightly, deepening his thrusts.

I can't breathe.

"I can't breathe," I whisper. She stops washing and looks at me.

"Did you say something?" I open my eyes and look at her. I want to get up and run from her compassion. I want her to hug me. I want her to leave me alone.

"I can't breathe. Can you… can you just, leave for a minute?" I ask as my breathing starts to get shallow. She hesitates, taking in my state.

"I don't think I should…."

"GET OUT!" I scream as loud as I can with pieces of metal trying to force me into complacency. She grips the cloth tightly in her glove covered hands and smiles sadly as she backs out of the room. She must be used to getting yelled at.

I take deep breaths. In and out. In and out.

The minutes tick by as I will my body to relax, calm down. I push the images out of my head, or at least try to. "Are you okay?" She asks as she walks back into the spacious bathroom.

I nod my head. "A little," I say as I look up at her. "I'm sorry." She shakes her head and changes the water, making it hot again.

"That's okay," she says as she finishes washing me. She dries me off and takes the plastic cover off of my wrist. "When you get home," she says as she helps me back into the brace that holds my ribs in place, "you can just put a Ziploc, or plastic, bag over your wrist. Then you can take a real shower."

"Is…"

"Brian back yet?" She finishes with a smile. "You have asked me that five times already," she says as she helps me stand on my feet. I give her a small smile and tighten my grip on her arm as I stand up, the pain in my ass and back running up and down my body, making sure it is not forgotten.

"He's talking to Dr. Salas," she tells me as she reaches behind her and grabs the clothes that Brian gave her. I didn't even notice that she had them.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Brian…

I cross my arms over my chest and look at the floor as the doctor gives me instructions for Justin's care, again.

He stresses how important it is for Justin to get nutrients. He tells me how important it is that I try to get him to see someone. He tells me everything that he has told me, us, before. "I'm going to want to see him in a week," he tells me.

"Okay," I say. I turn toward the bathroom as Justin is wheeled out. He smiles as he looks at me, the light behind it is not as bright. "Hey," I say.

"Hey," he answers as he adjusts his right arm, just slightly.

"Do you want to get back in the bed?" the nurse asks him. He shakes his head 'no'.

"No," he says. "I want to go home."

Dr. Salas laughs and steps forward. "I bet you do," he says as he looks over the discharge papers. He looks down at Justin and smiles. "I expect to see you back here in one week, okay?" Justin nods his head and I know he is not looking forward to coming back.

Dr. Salas starts to hand the clipboard to Justin, stopping when he raises his right hand slightly. "Right-handed, remember?" A flash of sadness and embarrassment washes over Dr. Salas' face as he turns to me and hands me the clipboard. I sign the discharge papers and rest my hands on my hips.

"You take care of yourself, okay?" Justin nods and Dr. Salas places his hand on Justin's shoulder, smiling. He turns to me and shakes my hand.

"Thanks," I say as I shake his hand and motion over to Justin, "for everything." He nods and leaves the room. I lean down and kiss Justin on the lips. He flinches slightly against my touch but I pretend not to notice. "Are you ready to get out of here?"

"Yeah," he says. I kiss him again, on the top of the head and make sure that we have everything. The nurse wheels Justin through the hospital and outside for the first time in days. I can see the panicked look on his face as he watches all of the people walking around.

"Okay?" I ask, the sound of the automatic door and taxis drowning out my words.

"Yeah, just… yeah, I'm fine," he tells me as he tightens the jacket that I brought him around his body.

"You sure?" He nods and I know he is telling himself the lie just as much as he is telling me. I give a half nod and let him keep up the charade. "Okay, I'll be right back. I'm going to go and get the car."

I leave him at the entrance to the hospital, waiting with the nurse. I reach the car and slide into the front seat, his front seat. I picked up his car, glad that he had wanted something big enough to tote his art. The Corvette is too small for injured persons

"It's big enough to carry all my stuff," he tells me as he peeks into the windows of the spacious mini- SUV. The salesman walks over and smiles. He is all tooth and gums.

"I notice that you've been looking at this one." I smirk. Justin laughs and gives me a look telling me to cut the poor guy some slack. "Care to take it for a spin?"

"Yeah," Justin says as he walks back over to me and bumps me playfully with his arm. He knows I don't like the car, but he also knows that I promised to let him get the car that he liked.

"You drove my car," he says as I pull up in front of him. I move the bag of medicine out of the front seat and put it in the back.

"Yeah, I figured what the hell," I say as I help him get into the car. He tosses the donut ring onto the front seat and sits down slowly. The nurse pulls the wheelchair back and gives a sad smile.

"Thanks," Justin says to the pretty young girl. She nods and waves.

"You're welcome." She disappears back inside of the hospital. There are people inside that still need her help. I close Justin's door and walk around the car.

"Ready?" I ask as I start the car and put it in drive. He leans his head back and closes his eyes.

"You have no idea."

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Justin…

The building looks the same.

Brian opens my door and helps me out of the car. Every step is agony. "You can have something for the pain when we get upstairs," Brian says as he grabs the bag of prescription drugs and closes both of the doors. He holds onto me, as tightly as he can and helps me into the building and into the loft.

"I'm surprised that no one is here," I say as Brian slides the door closed and sets the alarm.

"I told them all to give you some breathing room, but I can call them if you want." I look over at the serious look on his face and shake my head.

"No."

"What's wrong, sunshine? Afraid Debbie won't ever leave?"

"Yeah, her and everyone else," I tell him. He laughs and rolls his lips into his mouth.

"Do you want to lie down or sit on the couch?"

"Bed, my ribs and… umm, well, it just….." Brian nods and the leather of his jacket crinkles as he adjusts his grip on me.

"I understand," he tells me as he leads me to the bed and helps me lay down. He helps me take off my shoes and my jacket but I stop him as his fingers wrap around the top of my sweats.

"Don't," I say, my voice cracking with the dryness in my throat. I watch the sadness flood his eyes and I feel like shit.

"Justin, I'm just trying to…." His voice is soft and calm. Not forced calm, but the calm that comes from genuine concern and exhaustion.

"Brian, I…." He nods, he smiles and I know he understands. He moves away from the bed and takes off his jacket.

"Are you hungry? We have Boost, in every flavor available," he says. I shake my head and close my eyes as I turn my head into the pillow. I soon feel myself falling into darkness and just like that… the world is gone.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ronnie Jr. …

Ten years old…

I lean my back against the wall and swallow my cries as my tears flow from my eyes and soak into the sheets.

I can hear the kids in the neighborhood, my friends, laughing and playing. "You're just… just like your goddamned mother," my father says, his words slurring as he fastens his jeans and pulls his shirt on. "I had to break her too, that cunt."

He wipes the spit and blood from his mouth as he tries to button his shirt. He manages to get the shirt closed. The buttons don't match the holes. I notice but I know better than to correct him.

He grabs his beer and flings the door to my room open.

I flinch as the knob connects with the wall behind it, adding another hole to the many holes and imperfections that already plague the house. I listen as he walks down the hall and collapses on his bed, the springs of the mattress squeaking as his breathing evens out.

"Ronnie," I hear Ryan whisper as he stands at the door to my room. He bites his bottom lip and walks over to the bed. "Are you okay?" I don't say anything. He crawls into the bed next to me and I touch my forehead to his.

My father has never touched Ryan. I direct all of his anger onto me.

"Yeah, I'm okay." Ryan closes his eyes and in seconds he is asleep. I watch the sun out of my window. I watch until it disappears and the moon takes its place, punching in its timecard and keeping watch over the night. I get up, groaning with the pain that shoots through my body.

I walk into the bathroom and close the door. I turn on the light and take in my face; another black eye and busted lip. You can only have so many encounters with the 'school bully' before someone gets suspicious.

I start to strip, tossing all the pieces of my suit on the floor in the bathroom. While everyone else was starting their day I was burying my mother, wishing that it was my father in the cheap pine box. He spared no expense.

I walk over to the door and press my ear against the crack, listening for movement. Ryan is still sleeping. I move over to the toilet and slowly release my bladder. I close my eyes against the pain and flush the toilet.

I turn on the shower and step inside, letting the water wash over me. I grab the soap and start to scrub. I scrub until my skin is cracked and bleeding. I scrub until I can't cry anymore. I scrub until I can't see the red and white streaks of color as they fall away from my body and mix with the water.

My heart speeds up and my hands move frantically, spreading the soap all over. I swirl the suds into my mouth. The caustic, bitter taste hits the back of my throat and my stomach lets go. I drop to my knees as the acid comes up, choking me, telling the pipes my secrets.

"Ronnie," Ryan calls from the other side of the door. I force the bile back down into my stomach and straighten up. I swallow over and over. Stay down, please, stay down. "Ronnie?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm hungry," he says hesitantly, his three year old voice trying to sound bigger than what it is. I pull myself together and turn off the water. I dry off and wrap the towel around my body as I open the door. Ryan is sitting on the floor in the middle of my room, his eyes red and his nose running.

"What do you want to eat?" I ask as I pull on some clothes and a pair of sneakers. He jumps up off the floor, his overalls riding high. They are too small, but I can't help that.

"Pizza," he shouts and I clamp my hand down over his mouth.

"Shhhh, do you want to wake dad up?" I ask. Ryan shakes his head and I let go of his mouth, wiping the snot that got on my hand on the sheets. I go into the bathroom and grab a piece of toilet paper, wiping his nose. I grab onto his hand and head out of the bedroom, pausing to make sure I still hear my father's drunken snores.

I do.

I walk into the kitchen and open the refrigerator. It's empty. The only thing inside is beer, lots and lots of beer. I pull a chair over and open the cabinets.

Empty.

"There's no food," I say as I close the cabinet and climb down. Ryan looks up at me with tears in his eyes. "Don't cry... we're going to get something to eat. We're going to get a pizza, the biggest pizza ever. You trust me, right?"

"Yeah." I grab his hand and walk into my room. He stands watching me as I close my door and walk over to my toy box.

I move the box away from the wall and pull the bottom piece of wood off of the old piece of furniture. Ryan takes a step forward and watches as I pull out a thin safe. I put in the combination and open the box. Mom saved money for me, lots of money. I take out a ten dollar bill and lock the box. "You can't tell anyone, okay?" Ryan nods.

"Okay, can we eat pizza now?" I nod my head 'yes' and go to order the pizza.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Fifteen years old…

"Where's your goddamn brother?" my dad asks. I put the dish I am drying away and look over at him.

"What the fuck do you care?" I ask. My dad looks over at me and takes another drink of his beer. "It's not like you have cared a whole hell of a lot what he's been doing since about, hmm, I don't know, the day he was fucking born."

My dad stands up and makes a beeline for me. He reaches out to grab my neck and put me in a chokehold. I move out of his way and deliver one good punch to the side of his jaw. He hits the counter and falls to the ground.

I watch the blood as it drains from a cut on his head. I finish the dishes and step over him. Fuck him.

I slip into my jacket, grab my wallet and leave the house.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

I stumble back into the house around two in the morning, clutching at my stomach as it churns. I glance toward the kitchen on instinct. My father is not there.

I take another step and as I start to pass Ryan's room I glance toward his door. I see the gap in the door and the figures moving inside. I hear the sound of someone throwing up and my heart stops, my drug induced high leaving like the onset of a sudden storm.

I push the door open all the way and my face goes pale.

"Get off of him. Get off of him, you fucking asshole." I rush at my father and try with all my might to pull him off of my baby brother. I can hear Ryan crying, screaming for me to help him, to make him stop.

Ryan wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to be home.

I can't pull him off. My brain is a frenzy of thoughts as my father thrusts, my brother screams and my heart breaks. I can't feel anything.

I see the arrow that my brother found on one of our many expeditions into the woods behind our house. I wrap my fingers around it and plunge it, with all the force inside of me, into the side of my father's neck.

He stops instantly and the blood flow is immediate.

"FUCK… FUCK… SHIT!" my father screams. Ryan is on the bed, moaning, crying and bleeding. I want to move. I want to look away. I want to call someone. I want to do all the right things, but I don't. I stand where I am as my father's screams fill the house and die out.

I can hear the blood as it quickly fills his throat and chokes him, his screams halted by the grip death has on his soul.

I stand there. I stand there… with the biggest fucking smile on my face.

"So you see," I say as the slideshow ends and I bring myself back to the present, "although some may regard the paintings, photographs, and drawings of people who killed to survive as barbaric… one may also argue that they served as a vital part in the structure of their respective societies, ensuring the survival of their people by getting rid of enemies and any others who threatened their family, their friends… and themselves."

"They made their life art. That's what I expect you to do," I say.

I look at the time and take a deep breath as I turn to the board. "Don't forget, you have your 'Life is Art' projects due in two days. Turn them in on time or not at all people." I watch as they all leave the room, groaning and talking about their projects.

I watch Ms. Malone as she walks out of the classroom and turns to the right. She has Honors Biology next. I know her schedule. I know her route. I look down at my watch and sigh. Michael has a game in forty-five minutes.

Perhaps another day.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Brian…

I pop the top on the can of Boost and walk into the bedroom. Justin is lying flat on his back with his eyes closed but I know he is not sleeping. "I brought you a strawberry one," I say as I sit down on the bed next to him, careful not to move the bed too much.

"I told you I wasn't hungry." I bite my lip and look over at him.

"And I told you that you have to drink to take this shit that the doctor sent you home with," I tell him as I stick a straw in the Boost and look at him. He opens his eyes and looks at me.

"You taste it first," he says as he moves to sit up. I tried to help him get up earlier to go to the bathroom and he freaked out. I push down all the signals in my brain that tell me to help him. He gets into a sitting position, giving me a 'see, I told you I could do it' look.

I know better than to believe the magic act. I was never fooled by smoke and mirrors.

I taste the Boost and frown as I pull the can away from my face and turn it around, reading the contents. "Ugh, tastes like shit," I say as I hand it over to him. "Bottoms up," I say. He starts to drink the chalky substance and gives a small shrug.

"Hmm, it's not too bad," he says as he drinks some more of the supplement. I frown as I read the labels on his meds.

"Yeah well, I'm glad you like it," I say as I start to crush the pills and drop them into the glass of water that I have sitting on the nightstand. Justin sits quietly next to me and I can hear the wheels in his head turning. "Save some room for dessert," I tell him.

"Mmm, I can hardly wait," he says sarcastically. We get all the medicine down and I lean back against the headboard, my hand tracing patterns through his hair.

It's quiet, too quiet.

"I couldn't think," he says softly as my hand stops moving. "My mind went completely blank. I couldn't think of anything, not even you. It was almost like I was floating… watching it all happen to someone else. I could…."

I stop breathing as he pauses and looks at me. I can tell he wants me to hold him. But, I know how much he is hurting and I know how hard it is for him to let me get even this close.

"I could hear my own screams. I was so fucking scared, so fucking scared," he says as he starts to cry. I move over his body and lay on his left side, I take his good hand in mine and we intertwine our fingers together. I don't know what to say, so I say the only thing I can.

"I'm here. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere." He sniffs and nods his head. He already knew that. There was no doubt in his mind.

"That Boost shit… has a nasty aftertaste," he says with a sob filled laugh. I join him and we both laugh, really laugh for the first time since everything happened.

"You'll get used to it," I tell him after I am able to breathe again. He sighs as he catches his breath, wincing at the strain that the laughter put on his ribs.

"Oh God, I hope not," he says as he holds his left hand to his torso and starts to laugh again.

Nothing has ever sounded more beautiful.

Return to Do Unto Others