Page 5 of The Burning
“You won’t be able to do this shit soon. They’re going to piss-test you regularly and they will kick you out or lock you up if you don’t pass.”
“I know, I know. I just wanted one last night to celebrate,” he groaned. There was a sadness in his voice that almost made me feel for him. Almost.
“Your sister is completely destroyed right now and you’re here high as a kite, not having to feel shit.”
He closed his eyes. “You’re here, too. Not with her.”
“She wouldn’t let me stay,” I defended myself.
This irresponsible asshole gets to numb himself with drugs and I have to just deal with it, and so does she. It was unfair and infuriating. Times like this I wished I could show Karina why I helped her brother enlist, why his life was in danger, and why all of this was for her, whether she could see it yet or not.
“You and I both are the last people she would want around her right now.” His voice was fading, his eyes bloodshot slits. “Maybe ever. And look, I know I’m a fuckup, but tonight just leave me alone with my mistakes? Please, bro.” His desperation bled through his intoxication.
I didn’t say another word as Fischer’s head slopped to the side. I just sat at stared at him, hoping I was doing the right thing. I watched the rain through the window as he slept—or passed out—and Gloria and Mendoza never came back in.
Chapter Two
“Whose food is this?” I tossed the dirty bowl into the overflowing sink.
No one answered and I didn’t even know if anyone was home except me. Gunk-crusted dishes stacked in a chaotic pile filled my usually clean sink. There were beer bottles, half empty and fully empty on the counter, wadded-up potato chip bags, and crunchy pieces of instant ramen noodles in their foil wrappings with flavor packets torn on the corner and dotted with “chicken”-flavored crumbles of seasoning. For a couple of weeks now, things had gone downhill. I had never allowed my place to look this disastrous, but I couldn’t find it in me to give a shit lately. I used my teeth to tear open another packet and pushed a pile of empty take-out containers out of my way. I was fully aware that the trash can was merely three feet away, but it didn’t matter. Not much mattered these days.
I filled a bowl with water and pushed the noodles down enough to be covered before lazily putting my dinner into the microwave. I grew up eating these cheap ramen packets, ten cents apiece. Most of the time, I didn’t bother to cook them and just dumped the uncooked noodles into a Ziploc, poured the seasoning in, and took it to school. I spent more time making my sister’s lunch when she got tired of being in the “free lunch” line. Whatever I could do for her because she was the brains of the family and needed the fuel more than me. Our mom’s work schedule of two jobs didn’t allow the luxury of some families. Time-consuming lunch preparation, perfect packages strategically including every section of the food table, handwritten notes wishing us a good day, expensive sodas and name-brand chips . . . we didn’t have any of that, but we had a mother who woke up before the sun and barely got a meal herself before her night job.
I used to be bitter about it and wish I had what the privileged kids I saw on TV or met during football game parties at the rich white schools had. Being what was considered talented at football gave me opportunities to mingle with kids who lived in wealthy Atlanta suburbs. I got invited to big houses with pools in the yard and once, a kid gave me a brand-new pair of Jordans just because he already had a similar pair. It would have been easy to feel like he was looking down on me, but I didn’t really care since I knew I could sell the shoes and buy my sister a new school uniform and take her to the movies with the money. New cars and fancy new Nikes, but none of them seemed to know what sacrifice was. Not one of them knew what it meant to work for what they had, and it made me appreciate my mom more. Even though she couldn’t go to my games often because of her work, I knew that the reason I could play was because of her. Karina melted into my thoughts. One of the things I respected about her the most was how hard she worked to have what she wanted. She could easily ask her dad for help, but she never did. If something was broken, she would fix it. She was proud that everything she had was from her own two hands, literally, and it made me feel connected to her because I valued working for what you have more than most people my age.
The familiar smell of the ramen made me want to call my mom or my sister, but I knew I wasn’t in the headspace right now and they had more important shit going on in their lives than listening to me sulk on the phone and lie that my life was going great.
I heard the sound of the front door shut as I inhaled a mouthful of noodles. I knew every sound of this place, and most places.
“Yo! You home?” Fischer’s voice rang through the duplex, bouncing from one wall to the other.
He walked into the kitchen before I bothered to answer him. His face was blotchy and his light hair a mess. Blue circles swollen under his normally bright eyes.
“You look like you feel like shit,” I told him.
He nodded. “Because I do.”
“Good.”
Fischer lifted his T-shirt up and wiped his face with the bottom of it. “I am so out of shape. Basic is going to kill me.” He plopped his head down on the counter.
He was leaving in about two months and had started trying to get into shape about a week ago.
“Yeah, and I’m sure the drugs help,” I reminded him.
He shook his head. “You’d be surprised.” His grin was sarcastic and charming, even if we were joking about something heavy.
“Have you talked to your sister yet?”
He groaned. “You ask me that every day.”
“Have you?” I poked at his sweat-covered arm with my spoon. “Huh?”
He rolled his head, whining. “This is like having two annoying siblings annoy you at the same time.”
“Good. You’ve completely ghosted her since she found out about you enlisting.”
I was envious that she bothered him. She hadn’t texted or called me once since that night. I kept checking her social media and for the first week it was great, but she eventually blocked me. I wondered if I had accidentally clicked something that gave away my stalking, or if she just didn’t want to risk coming across me.
