Jax

Chapter 1 - I’m Just a Kid

When I’m on the court, all the noise around me turns to silence.  I dribble down the court, my sneakers squeaking. All I hear is the swish of my shot and the crowd cheering.  Just kidding, it’s just pick up basketball. Maybe its just me who blocks out all the noise.

My name is Jax.  My name was Marcus, but as soon as I got out of my godmother’s house, I changed it.  I am tall, bi-racial (my mom was African American and my dad was white), 18 years old, have shaggy long brown hair that hangs into my almond colored eyes, acne, skinny, broke.  Everyone gives me that look like I’m this bad ass kid just because I ride a motorcycle, live in Brooklyn, and I’m of color. I live at Peter’s house. I’m always sleeping over at his small apartment.  

Peter’s dad is home on the couch sleeping with beer bottles and a knocked over popcorn bowl when we walk in.  He’s clad in sweatpants and a baggy tank top with the sleeves cut down so low it isn’t worth wearing a shirt.  Ryder, Peter’s older brother, is in his room, the door closed.

“Hey Jax,” he says through the door without even seeing my face.

“Hi Ryder.”  Peter opens the door to the room.

I guess it’s not Ryder’s room since Peter and Ryder share it, but there is a curtain dividing the two sides.  Peter’s side has a queen size mattress with a comforter and pillow on it, various posters of bands such as Green Day and The Beatles.  It is a pretty beat up room, with clothes and candy wrappers everywhere, but at least it is a room. I think Ryder’s side looks similar, but Ryder forbids us from stepping foot onto his side.  Peter doesn’t even bother trying to sneak in because his brother and he respect each other. Sometimes so much it scares me. Peter puts a record of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.  He plops down on his mattress.

Peter and I are best friends, so close that we feel we are brothers.  I’m the older one and I feel like an older brother to him. I’m not saying that Ryder is a bad brother, I think he is just depressed.  Which I understand. These boys have been through a lot.

Peter 

Chapter 2 - Music

Jax sits next to me and we just listen.  The Beatles is music to my ears. When your dad is an alcoholic who abuses you, finding that one thing that calms you down really matters in life.  

“Peter, I’m going to work.  Dad is supposed to go to his shift at the hospital, but we’ll see if that happens.”  Ryder says, dressed in jeans and an old button down shirt. He works at a bar, which, I know, is ironic because our dad is an alcoholic, but this is the only job Ryder could get.  He didn’t go to college, but got straight A’s through 11th grade, and dropped out in Senior Year. Ryder refuses to drink. Even if he’s at a party, he’ll only get a soda. 

My brother and I aren’t that close, but he’s always been there for me food and money wise.  He’s pretty much like a father figure. That doesn't mean he’s an especially good one but he works, pays the bills, feeds the family.  But he doesn’t spend time with anyone. He’s lonely.

My name is Peter.  Pete. Whatever you want to call me.  I am bi-racial (my dad is Latino and my mom was white).  I have greenish brown eyes, hair that is cut right above my ears, 14 years old, short.  I walk everywhere or ride on the back of Jax’s motorcycle. We have very little money and no cars.  Jax is better at descriptions than me, sorry if mine is very vague.  I met Jax last year at the basketball court, and we bonded over the love of music, basketball and the blueberry muffins you get at the cafe on the corner of my street.  

Ryder

Chapter 3 - I’m Used to it

I hate being noticed.  Standing out. People feeling sympathetic, the few that know my dad is a psycho.  I didn’t choose to be the person I am today.  I didn’t choose for my dad to drink. I didn’t make any of these choices.  I hate being beat up, feeling the pain of the scars on my face. Knowing that people can see the scars and black eyes as I walk the streets of Brooklyn.

I like to read and be alone.  I’m not lonely, just not a social butterfly.  I’m 21 years old. I could’ve left two years ago but I chose to stay.  Which was a mistake because I should’ve taken Peter and ran. But when my dad wasn’t a drunk and my Mom was still here, so I was happy.  I’ve changed from a happy, talkative young boy to a broken, depressed, miserable man. But I never cry.

My room is painted black with a couple of holes in the wall when Dad has come in.  Why am I calling him my father? He’s not, he’s just Mark. I have a mattress on the floor with two pillows and one blanket.  I have a bookshelf right next to my bed. I have read every book at least three times. Once I read the whole Harry Potter series in 24 hours.  That was after my family went through my Mom leaving.  

“Ryder!”  I hear Mark call in a brusque voice.

“Yeah,”  I murmur.

“WHAT?”  He screams, the footsteps coming closer.  He pushes open the door and Peter backs up in a cowardly manner.

“Ryder, respond when I say your name!”  

“I said yeah, what do you want?”

“SHUT UP, don’t talk to me like that!”  

“I’ll talk however I want.  Remember Mark, I pay the bills.  I cook the food. I am an adult,”  I say, pointing to myself.

“Don’t speak to me like that!”

“Oh, and we can’t forget that I am sober.”

“Peter, get out while I talk to your brother!”  ‘Talking’ in Mark’s book, when he is drunk, is slapping me until I bleed.  I’m used to it. Peter scurries out with Jax right behind him. I don’t blame them.  The scars hurt a lot. But I don’t bother fighting back, what's the point? He’ll just hurt me more.

Mom used to comfort us when we cried, or fell off our bike.  I know I may seem tough on the outside, but on the inside I am actually a softee.  No one knows, of course. When Mom left, she was the only one who knew what a baby I am, and I plan to keep it that way.   

Jax

Chapter 4 - Blueberry Muffins

Peter and I walk out the door and climb down the fire escape, but he stops me.  

“You can go.  I’ll meet you at the muffin shop.  I need to see if Ryder is okay.”

“Okay.”  I continue down and walk the block to the shop, ordering two coffees and two blueberry muffins.  I pull out my book and start to read. Time passes quickly when I am into a book so before I know it, Peter walks in.

“What happened?”  I ask.

“The usual.  He got slapped and punched and even in the end he kept a straight face.” 

“I hate how that’s ‘the usual.’”

“Me too.”  He runs a hand through his hair. “It sucks, I wish my family wasn’t screwed up.”

I don’t know how to respond to this because trying to cheer someone up when their Mom is gone and their Dad is a drunk is a hard task to achieve.

“I’m going to head home, if you want to come.”

“No, I’ll go to the courts and see who is there.”

“Okay, see you tonight?”

“Sounds good.”

We walk out together but go our separate ways.  Charlie is the only one there. He plays every day.  He has a good life at home, goes to private school, wears preppy clothes like khakis and button downs to school, but is one of the nicest guys I know.  He’s almost like my mentor, the one who taught me the basics of basketball, all the way to the time I almost beat him in a one on one game. He taught me how to properly pivot, so I didn’t travel.   

“Jax!  I was hoping you would stop by.”

“Hey Charlie,”  I say, opening the gate to the court.

“I’m leaving for college in a week.”

“Where to?”

“Harvard.”  Charlie is the happiest kid I know, but he doesn’t seem so happy to be leaving. 

“No way!”

“I guess that is what straight A’s and wealthy parents get you.”

“That’s awesome!”

“You don’t understand.  I don’t want to leave. I love my school, my friends, my basketball life, living at home.”

“I’m sorry man.  I’m really going to miss you.”  

“Bring it in,” he says, with open arms.

Peter

Chapter 5 - Hoping Is Just A Word

When I get home, Dad is waiting at the door with Ryder.

“Ryder said I had to wait to leave.  At least say goodbye. What kind of crap is that?”  He says, angered.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m leaving you guys.”

“Way to be straight forward,”  I snap.

“That’s all you have to say, Peter?”

“How do you want me to react?”

“I don’t know, kids,”  He murmurs, losing his balance.
“Don’t ever call us your kids again!”  Ryder screams. “Now get out!” He curses and I can see tears coming to his eyes.

And for once, my Dad obeys.  Only because he wants to leave.  Ryder and I both know deep down that he wants what is best for us, even though he is an alcoholic, he wants us to lead a positive life and not end up like him.  That’s what we choose to believe, and I will miss him, but this is the best for us.

 Ryder runs down the hall and slams the door to our room.  I just stand there in shock and sit down on the hardwood floor, knowing I am giving myself splinters and that all the cold air is coming in from the wide open door, not caring about anything.  

I knew my Dad was a messed up guy, but deep down I still loved him.  He and Ryder were the only family I have left. Now I lost both of them.  I lost the battle of hoping my Dad would stay. Hoping Ryder would connect with me.  But hoping doesn’t help. After all, hoping is just a word.

Ryder

Chapter 6 - Mistakes

I made a huge mistake.  I made the mistake of being alone.  I made the mistake of not connecting with Peter and my parents.  After Mom left our side, my Dad started to drink. I started to either stay in my room, or go to the library and stay there until it closed.  Peter cried for months. I should’ve been there to comfort him. But I wasn’t. I should’ve been a better brother. One he would want to emulate the behavior of.  Now I blew my opportunity and Peter is broken inside, from our Mom, our Dad, and now me.  This is a burden I am going to have to carry for the rest of my life.

Jax

Chapter 7 - Strays

The streetlights are flickering on the streets parallel to the alley and all the lights in the apartments are off.  The only noises are the cars flying down the empty streets and the cats looking for food in garbage bags. The best night for strays to come out:c garbage night.  The mice skitter through the gutters. You can see down the whole street lined with strays. I am the only one here.

I hear a window open, and look up.  Peter scrambles down the fire escape cautiously.  We know this neighborhood right and left, front and back.

“Hey again,”  I say.

“My Dad left us.”  Peter jumps down from the ladder, takes a long breath and lifts his head up to turn to Jax.  

“That’s a fine ‘how do you do.’” 

“That’s not helping.”

“Sorry man.”  

 “How do you go on without anybody?”  Peter asks, his eyes looking down. 

“I learned.  I learned how to raise myself, I guess,”  I shrug. “My godmother never had children.  She has no clue how to raise a child. She doesn’t know how to raise a young boy to be a man.  She just knows how to fend for herself. Then when I turned eighteen, I got out as fast as my motorcycle and a couple hundred bucks could take me.”

“And you don’t care?”

“Honestly, no.   I don’t care about her, and she doesn’t care about me.  I didn’t know my parents and they obviously didn’t care about me.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Jax.”  

“Then why did they leave a 3 month old at the doorstep of an old lady’s home?”  I say, heating up.

“She’s your mom’s best friend, I thought.”

“My Mom had a pretty awful choice of friends.  Anyways, it doesn’t matter. Why did your dad leave?”

“You know what he did to us.  Maybe he didn’t want to be here but I choose to believe that he wanted what was best for us.”  His eyes start to water. Peter sits down on the curb, and puts his head in his hands. The feral cats trot away from the garbage cans behind him, their eyes glowing in the alley.  

“I..I just wish he wasn’t screwed up  I wish that I had a perfect family, where my father respected me, my mom wasn’t dead, my brother didn’t have to work every day and that he could get into a decent college because all he has wanted to do since he could talk is talk about getting out of this place!  And I do too. We don’t have no choice. It’s just me and Ryder, in a one bedroom apartment that has no hot water. I guess it’s not his fault, he was broken after Mom passed. He went and drank and drank to try to drink the pain away. He just ate and drank and got addicted.  But the worst part, he couldn’t stop.”  

“Sorry, man.  That stinks.”

Peter heavily sighs and looks at me for some better advice.

I hop on my motorcycle.  I starts the engine “Alright, now is your chance, let’s get out of here.”  Peter’s glances up at me, a look of hope in his eyes, mixed with a little bit of fear.

Peter

Chapter 8 - Free

As I walk up the fire escape to grab my backpack, another memory of two years ago, as a twelve year old boy, I clearly remember looking down the stairs to see Ryder getting beat and abused until he bled.  I remember screaming, uncontrollably, and my dad’s footsteps stomping up the stairs towards me. He picked up a beer can and chugged it. I remember the stare he gave me. In my eyes, it didn’t look like a father figure.  It looked like an old man who was here to hurt us, not take care of us. I try to wipe the memory away but only more start to flow through my brain. I remember seeing Mom in the hospital, bringing her flowers, just a year before Dad started drinking.

I quickly pack up my backpack and leave a note in the bathroom.

Ryder-

I know you always wanted to get out of here, so now that I’m gone you can.  I’m leaving, and I’ll miss you. I want you to lead a great path. Please don’t chase after me, or at least think about it before you do.  I’m going to leave Brooklyn and I hope I never come back. I wish I could write more, but there isn’t anything to say. Dad left, Mom left, and now I’m leaving.  To be honest, I have no regrets because this is really what is best for me.

I love you so much,

Peter

 I grab my backpack, saved money and go down the fire escape as I hop on the back of Jax’s motorcycle, closing my eyes.    Having no regrets on leaving, although I don’t know where I am going. I only know that I am running, looking for a place to really feel like home and I know that somewhere, my dad is right beside me, running.  I close my eyes and breathe in the air of freedom.  

I smile and open my eyes, forgiving my father in a way, knowing Ryder can finally pursue his dreams.  We ride off into the distance, leaving the flickering lights, garbage bags and Brooklyn Skyline behind us, knowing that they we are strays now, and it feels really good to be free.

Epilogue

1 year later

Ryder- Finally 

I haven’t been a happy kid, and ever since Peter left I know I have done so many things wrong.  But I let him go, isn’t that a good thing?  

I made it to a community college and now live on campus.  I swim for the college and live in a dorm with my new friend I made, Craig.  He is in the same position as me. We are both straight A students, but couldn’t afford to go anywhere else.  

Feeling like I belong somewhere took me 23 years, and I’m still not sure if this is it.  I would love to go to Harvard or Yale but if this is all life gives me, it’s enough because I have a best friend, a whole swim team of friends, and my best friend is in the same dorm as me.  

It finally happened.  I feel free as a bird, and slowly but surely I am letting burdens off my back, but some I will carry forever.  I have finally accepted my life as it is.