Chapter Two — Lullaby


I had a dream that night. I was standing on a staircase. But it was out in the middle of no where. There were no walls. No railings. It was as is if it were just there, surrounded by blue sky. "Mason," a voice that could have been the wind said. "Go."

Looking around, I asked the only question I could. "Where?"

"Mason," it repeated. "Go."

My eyes kept desperately searching for the source of the voice, although, they never found one. Eventually, I came to the realization that I had to choose a direction. I turned my gaze down the staircase, before turning it upward. Neither way seemed promising. Both seemed endless. Each way identical to the other. It didn't matter how I got there, since it was obvious I couldn't return the way I came. I was standing there all the same, unsure which way to go. I needed to make a choice.

So, I jumped.

If I was going to make the wrong decision, might as well make it fast.

The first thing to grace my ears that day, was the sound of Eric's grumbling as he passed through the living room and into the kitchen. "For Christ's sake, Mase, it's almost noon. Get off of my couch already."

I opened my eyes, unsure whether or not I was happy to see the sun streaming in through the windows. Ignoring the dull ache sitting in the back of my head, I pushed myself into an upright position. As my mind edged back into the waking world, a familiar heaviness settled into my chest. Something that would be near impossible to shake off.

It felt as if my limbs were made of lead, the weight making my movements cumbersome. Despite this, I eventually made my way into the kitchen. Eric was pulling pans out of the cupboards, a scattering of cooking ingredients already out. He glanced over in my direction as he reached up to pluck a bowl from the shelves. Then without further acknowledgment, returned his attention to the task at hand.

I decided the first order of business was to get some caffeine into my system, and made my way to the coffee pot. Once the first steaming cup was poured, I leaned back against the counter next to him and took a sip. "What are you making?"

Cracking the first egg into the bowl, he answered without looking up. "Breakfast."

I couldn't help but smile. Typical. Eric really hasn't changed. "I see that. What's on the menu?"

His face scrunched up as if he'd bitten into something bitter. "Chocolate chip pancakes," he mumbled.

Truthfully, I wanted to laugh. I didn't. I don't think he would have appreciated it very much. Instead, I simply nodded, noting the contrast between the scowl on his face and the halo the light made around the golden brown strands of his hair. "My favorite."

"I know."

The conversation didn't move any further than that. It really didn't need to. Once they were ready, I ate them with quiet gratefulness. Eric opted to simply drink his coffee instead. I knew he didn't like chocolate chips. Or pancakes. As I picked my plate off of the table he spoke again. "You need to get more clothes."

That simple statement bothered me. Grated my nerves. I didn't let it show. "I know."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

Shaking my head, I placed the dish and fork in the sink. "Nope."

I turned around. He was watching me. I knew what he was thinking. But he eventually nodded anyway. "Okay, if you say so."

I was suddenly itching for a cigarette. Bad. It would have to wait though, since I didn't have any. "I'm going to use your shower, okay, Eric?"

"Yeah, sure. Go ahead."

"Thanks," I mumbled, trudging out of the kitchen.

I only stayed in for a couple of minutes. Long enough to rinse away whatever filth I'd built up over the last day. Then I was out and re-dressed in the same jeans and sweatshirt I'd been wearing before. With my hair still dripping, I made my way to the front door, stopping only at the sound of Eric's voice. "Mason."

I paused with my hand still on the knob. "Yeah?"

"If you have time, I want you to look for a job. I can't support both of us on what I make."

"Okay." Then I was gone.

I followed the same route I'd taken the night before, listening to squeal of the hinges as I yanked open the stairwell door. As soon as I was out onto the streets, I began my search for nicotine. After walking for a few blocks, I spotted a source. Donning my best smile, I approached two girls chatting in front of the deli. "Excuse me," I interrupted politely. "I'm sorry to bother you, but can I buy one of those off of you? I forgot my pack."

The brunette waved me off as I reached into my pocket, pretending to look for cash. "Don't worry about it," she said, one hand already in her purse. "You don't need to pay me. Here you go."

I thanked her for the cigarette she furnished, waiting as she also lit it for me. I smiled and thanked her again, nodding to her friend as I turned away. As I was doing so, I caught a reflection in the glass window out of the corner of my eye. The dimpled grin I'd long forgotten about. My own reflection. My smile faded a little. I went through the motions of fixing my hair, which was still damp from the shower. Taking one last look at faded green eyes, I turned and left.

The smell of coffee and burning griddles wafted though the air as I stepped into the diner. A few seconds later I was greeted by an ecstatic squeal. "Oh my god, Mason! Dónde has estado, mi cariño? It's been ages."

I laughed as I was engulfed by a hug, swaying back from the impact. I returned the gesture, wrapping my arms around the slender woman's waist. "I've been around, Mel, I've been around. "

Melissa scoffed. "Well, you haven't been around here, chulo. I haven't seen you in months. Too busy for old faces these days?"

"Something like that."

She cast me a knowing look as she moved back behind the counter. Grabbing a small ceramic mug off of the shelf, she picked up a glass pot. "Let me guess," she said, pouring the coffee. "You in trouble again?"

"Yeah."

"Whose fault is it this time," she asked, placing the cup onto a saucer, "yours or theirs?"

"A little bit of both, I guess," I said, following her to a booth.

She set the cup down and waved her hand for me to sit. I slid onto the cushioned bench, across from a small dark head of hair. The child was bent over, merrily doodling over a paper place mat. Upon my arrival, a pair of big brown eyes raised questioningly. They lit up with recognition, a gleeful smile washing over her face. "Mason!"

"Hey, Jules. I've missed ya," I said sincerely.

The five-year-old beamed. "I missed you too." She looked down at her hands, continuing almost shyly. "You stopped coming to visit."

I reached over, stroking her hair back. "I know, I'm sorry. I was just busy for a little while. I promise I'll come visit more often."

"Don't make promises to my baby that you can't keep, boy."

"I'll keep my promise," I said, nestling my back into the corner of the booth. I motioned for Julia to come over. She promptly scurried out of her seat and around the table, climbing onto the bench and into my lap. "After all, we're getting married. Right, Jules?"

"Yeah! He'll keep his promise, Mommy. Mason is my fiancé," she said loftily.

"Fiancé?" I grinned, tapping her nose. "Good one, Jules. Where did you learn that?"

A giggle bubbled as she snuggled into my chest. "My friend."

Mel placed a hand on her hip, eyeing the two us with amusement. "Oye, what kind of ideas are you putting into her head?"

"Hey— she proposed to me. Right, Jules?"

"Yep! With a big diamond ring!" she affirmed.

"With a big diamond ring," I emphasized, looking over to her mother. "See? It's set in stone, Mel."

Melissa rolled her eyes, leaning forward onto the table. "So, what brings you here today anyway?

I pulled the paper mat across the table. Picking up a couple of crayons, I handed most of them to Julia and kept one for myself. "I have to go back home for a couple of things," I replied, shading in a few of the lines to the girl's drawings. I frowned a bit, before continuing. "I hate to ask this of you, Mel, but could I borrow some money? I don't have enough for the train ride there and I didn't want to ask Eric for it."

"I knew it." She sighed before straightening up. Digging through the front of her apron, she eventually came up with a small bundle of cash. "Is it still six-fifty each way?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Mel."

"Anything for you, cariño," she replied, holding a few bills out to me. "I gave you some extra, so you can go get your cancer too."

I laughed softly. "Thank you, Mel. I'll pay you back."

"Huh, you better. Why you always getting' kicked out, Mason?"

"I don't know, Mel. I don't know."

Two and a half hours later, I was in the process of stuffing a duffle bag full of clothing. I wasn't being too discriminating, barely bothering to actually look at what I was picking up. I had to be quick. They would be home soon. The last place I checked was the hallway closet, grabbing a black jacket off of a hanger. I turned to leave. Then I stopped. I backtracked to my parents' room, and headed for the dresser in the corner. My hands searched the top drawer, ruffling through the various garments until they came up with an envelope. Tilting onto his side, I slid the cash out, then placed the envelope back inside.

Just as I had set foot back into the hall, the front door clicked open. I froze. I closed my eyes and inhaled. Then I opened them again. My mother was standing in the entrance with her hand still on the doorknob. We stared at each other for a moment. And then another went by. Then without further warning, all hell broke loose. She started toward me, eyes ablaze, and I ran for the window I'd come in through.

"Changing the locks isn't enough for you, huh, Mason? Do you need me to call the police too? Get out!" she screeched from behind me. I hurried through the opening, grabbing onto the edge before dropping the short distance down. Her voice followed me. Even as I darted across the yard. "Don't come back. Don't you fucking dare come back!"

A bang echoed through the air as the window slammed shut. Once I was a safe distance away, I looked back at the ratty wooden house. The blue paint had long lost its splendor. I turned and began my walk back to the train station. I wouldn't miss this place. She didn't have to worry about me coming back. I didn't have to anymore.