lfad 12

Life From A Distance

Ben

Chapter Twelve

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My mother’s return restored some semblance of normalcy to our lives. There was a huge void where Mike should have been, and I felt it most keenly. Dad didn’t speak of Mikey at all. He pretended that he hadn’t been born, or so it seemed to me. Mom and I talked about him all the time. We would sit in the living room looking at pictures and remembering the fun stuff he’d done or the good times we’d had with him. We’d tell each other how much we missed him. We’d cry when the pain became too great. Dad was indifferent to us, and oft times left the room while mom and I shared our memories.

The first sign I had that all was not well between mom and dad was their fight about a week after mom came home. I couldn’t hear the specifics but I heard my name a few times and the tone told me it was not a pleasant conversation. Mom would plead with my father to lower his voice, to which he would respond by growing louder and more vociferous in his arguments.

This became their pattern. It would happen once a week, or once every few weeks, but it was always loud and long. I took to climbing out my window and finding someplace else to sleep where I didn’t have to hear mom and dad argue. Sometimes I would sleep in the garage in the back seat of mom’s car, or if I was really feeling bad I would walk over to Ian’s and sleep on his deck in the back yard. I didn’t want to bother them, especially on school nights. Ian and Murray needed their sleep. There was no sense on all of us losing out by my disturbing them.

One Friday night, the first Friday in November, I was sitting in my room reading Mikey’s journal when I found a picture taped to a page. It was of our eleventh birthday party. Mike and I stood at a table with our arms around each other. Our hair was all messed up with frosting and cake. I grinned to myself as I remembered Mike smashing his cake into my face, and before he could escape, he received a face-full of my cake in return. We were looking at one another. At that moment, captured in that picture, I saw the love that Mike had in his heart for me.

I heard mom and dad begin to argue as I examined the picture. They were in it, too. They stood behind us with their arm around each other, leaning their heads in, their expressions displaying the love they felt for Mike and me as well as for each other. It was an image of a happier time that will never return.

I remained in my room until their yelling moved from the family room, past my room and into their own. Without wasting another moment, I gathered my jacket and ran out the front door, purposely slamming it closed as I left. Not knowing where to go and not wanting to bother the Kettengers, I started walked east toward Elyssum Elementary School on Elyssum Street, and when I got there I turned south. If I went down to Eleventh Street I could go over to the cemetery and visit with Mike. It seemed like a good plan, so that’s what I did.

It was quite a way to walk on a cold November night. Rain threatened to fall from the blackened sky and a cool wind blew out of the east. As best I could tell it took me an hour to reach the intersection of Elyssum and Eleventh. The temperature was warm in spite of the wind. When I reached the gate to the cemetery I paused to look inside. Everything was still but for the trees stirring in the freshening breeze.

With another glance around to ensure I was unobserved, I climbed the gate and dropped over to the other side. A quick run took me out of the range of the streetlamps and allowed me to slow to a walk. Another five minutes took me to the back corner where Mike lay. His headstone was a simple flat granite plaque. It was the first time I had seen it, but it was too dark to make out the inscription. Kneeling down, I ran my hands along the stone and traced the letters I found there.

Michael Benjamin Foster

April 22, 1985 - June 14, 1997

Beloved Son and Brother

Gone But Never Forgotten

Tears stung my eyes as my throat tightened. A sob escaped me and I leaned forward to lay my forehead against the cold stone that was the only evidence of a once vibrant life besides the memories I carried inside of me.

I awoke as the clouds changed from black to gray with the coming of morning. The air was damp and chill and my body stiff with the cold. Pain shot through my body as I stood, subsiding with the tightness of my limbs as I stretched. Looking around, it came to me that I had stayed the whole night in a graveyard, yet it didn’t frighten me. I knew Mike had been there to protect me.

The next step on my agenda was to determine where to go. It was certain that my parents would be in hysterics over my disappearance. Then again, perhaps they hadn’t even heard my departure over their yelling. Weighing my options, I found that hunger won out over everything else. I had about ten dollars in my wallet remaining from my lunch money, so I decided to hit up a fast food place that was just down the block from the cemetery.

The gate was still locked when I made it out to the street. Seeing no choice, I climbed the gate and landed lightly on the sidewalk and set a brisk pace toward my destination. I hadn’t gone more than a hundred yards when a police car pulled up alongside me and turned on their lights.

“Hold it, son,” commanded a burly officer as he exited his cruiser. “We need to talk to you.”

I stopped walking. “Sure.”

“What are you doing out this early?” Asked the first cop’s partner.

“Going to get breakfast,” I informed them unworriedly.

“Uh huh. Do you want to tell me what you were doing inside Legion Cemetery?” The big cop asked. “We got three calls telling us you jumped the gate to get out.”

“Oh. My brother is buried there,” I replied. “I was just saying hi to him. I haven’t visited him in a long time. I needed to talk to him.”

“I see. What’s your name?”

“Ben Foster. I live on Valhalla Drive.”

“Well, Ben Foster,” the big man said, “you were trespassing. Put your hands on the hood of the car, please.”

Shaken, I did as he asked without question or hesitation. The cop quickly frisked me down, removing my keys and wallet from my pockets. When he was satisfied I wasn’t carrying anything dangerous, he returned them to me.

“We’re going to take you home and talk to your parents, so get in the car.”

Again I did so without arguing. Without further comment, the car was started and we pulled into traffic..

“Where on Valhalla do you live?” Asked the driver a few moments later.

“Twenty-One-Forty.”

An occasional blast from the radio punctuated the following silence. When we were less than a mile from home, the big cop turned in his seat to look at me.

“Why did you decide to visit your brother? You could have waited until this morning when they opened the gates.”

“I… uh… I really needed to talk to him,” I answered quietly. “I have a lot of stuff I’m dealing with right now, and he could always help me. Honest, that was the only reason I was there.”

“Why didn’t you talk to your parents?” The officer asked, his tone suspicious.

“They don’t understand. They’re too busy with their own problems to deal with mine, anyway.” My voice sounded dejected in my own ears.

“They aren’t hitting you or anything, are they?” The driver asked in a serious tone.

“No, they never do.”

“Do they yell at you a lot?” he queried in the same tone.

“They only yell at me when I get them mad. Look. I’m not being abused, okay?”

“Would you tell us if you were?”

I left that question unanswered as we pulled into the driveway. Both cops got out of the car, but only the driver went to the door. The other cop leaned into the car and spoke urgently.

“I have kids your age, Ben. As a matter of fact, you remind me of my son. I know how secretive you guys are just by your age. If you’re being hurt, you need to tell us. You don’t deserve that no matter what you’ve done.”

“It’s okay. Really. But thanks for being concerned.”

“Here’s my card. Keep it in your wallet. If you ever need anything, call me day or night, all right?”

I took the card from his hand. Randall “Randy” Keith was his name.

“Thank you,” I said “I’ll keep the card, but I don’t expect I’ll need it.”

“You seem like a good kid, Ben,” the hulking police officer said. “If something happens and you don’t have anywhere to go, call me. I can help you.” I nodded “Ready to go see your parents? My partner is explaining to them what happened.”

“I guess.”

“Are you sure everything is okay?” He asked, real worry tingeing his voice.

“Yeah. I’m just not looking forward to the lectures.”

“It’s a parent’s prerogative. Just listen to what they say, all right? I’m sure they were worried about you.”

I saw mom and dad standing on the porch watching me talk to the cop. Randy’s partner walked around the car to speak with him.

“They didn’t even know he was gone,” the man said in a voice I wasn’t supposed to overhear.

The rest of their conversation was too quiet for me to make out. A moment later, Randy leaned back into the car.

“Okay, Ben. Time to come clean,” he ordered sternly. “When did you leave your house?”

“I don’t know exactly. Ten last night maybe.”

“Why did you leave?”

“I got tired of hearing mom and dad yell at each other, so I left.” I said it plainly and without emotion.

Randy took a second or two to digest this information, then asked, “Where did you go?”

“Straight to Mike.”

“And then?”

“I woke up, jumped the gate and was going to get some breakfast when you picked me up.”

“You slept in the cemetery?” His partner asked incredulously.

“Yeah. It wasn’t a big deal. I knew my brother was there to protect me.”

The two officers backed away from the car and spoke in hushed tones for a moment. They seemed to be in disagreement with one another regarding the subject being discussed. The driver then spoke emphatically, using his hands to gesture to me, and then ticking off fingers.

When his partner was done, Randy nodded and said, “You’re right. It just breaks my heart.”

That was the last thing I expected to hear the man say, and the fact he said it while discussing me and my family bothered me.

“Okay, Ben. You can get out now,” the large man said.

I hesitated slightly before stepping out of the car. I stood my ground until Randy’s partner took my arm around the biceps and led me to my parents. Randy stayed at the car.

“Here he is. He jumped the fence at Legion Cemetery last night, slept there and jumped back out this morning, which is when we picked him up. The custodian at the cemetery confirmed your son is interred there and that no damage was done. They aren’t pressing charges for trespass this time, but if it happens again they might change their mind.”

“Thank you for bringing him home, officer,” my father said. “We’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Dad’s voice was stern. I knew I was in for it.

“If I may make a suggestion?” Randy’s partner interjected. “Before you go off on him, you might want to ask him why he left in the first place.”

“We’ll handle it from here,” my father said as if he hadn’t heard the man.

“Good bye, Ben. Remember what Officer Keith told you. I don’t want to ever see you again under these circumstances. Okay?” His eyes pierced me, and I could not miss his message.

“I won’t forget any of it,” I answered, looking him in the eyes.

He nodded once. “Good. Glad to hear it, son. Have a good day Mr. Foster, Mrs. Foster.”

The cop walked away. I realized I had never heard his name.

My father’s hand fell heavily on my shoulder as the cruiser pulled out of the driveway.

“In the house, Benjamin. Go to your room while we discuss what we will do about this.”

My voice sounded bitter in its sarcasm. “Oh, you mean you guys are going to stop yelling at each other long enough to yell at me? What a welcome change.”

I hurried to my room before they could respond. Mike’s journal was right where I’d left it, carelessly thrown on the bed. I sat on the bed and again examined the picture of my eleventh birthday. Those happier times would never come again.

For more than one reason.