Tokio Derby

Have you ever woken up knowing you need to face your crazy parents?

No? Well, I sure did.

“I still think this makes me look fat,” I murmured, fixing my shirt yet again. We finally decide a day to talk to my parents- “Closure” Bill had said eating a deformed piece of lettuce- and I just had to wear a shirt that made me look fat.

“You look fine,” Georg pinched my cheek and smiled, eyes not moving from the road.

“Why are we going anyway?” Gustav pouted and folded his arms, like he was a child throwing a temper tantrum. He was probably mad that he couldn’t drive the car.

“Because pookie,” Tom pinched his cheeks, “Clarissa wants to go see her parents.”

I shrugged. The warm California sun made my legs stick together, making me regret wearing a semi-short blue dress.

The car ride was filled with silence, the only noise coming from Tom lighting a cigarette and the traffic outside. Georg pulled up in a fading yellowish apartment building in a bad neighborhood. The street was littered with garbage and empty wrappers of who-knows-what. I carefully stepped out and rang the buzzer to apartment number 230, where my parents were staying.

“Who is it?” my dad hissed into the phone. Waking up early in the morning was not his thing. I checked my phone: 12:43. Close enough to morning.

“I-it’s me, Dad,” I replied, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. His voice seemed to lighten up when he heard me, thanking me for coming and buzzing me in. I quickly opened the door and was slamming it shut when fingers blocked the doorway.

Gustav pulled his hand away, cursing in German. “What the hell, Clarissa?” he screamed, shaking his hand.

“What are you doing?” I hissed in reply. “I’m going to be the only one talking to my parents.” I pointed to the car. “Go back.”

Gustav pulled the door open and stormed up to me. Even though we were almost the same height, he seemed intimidating. “You can’t just keep doing things by yourself. Whether you like it or not, I’m always going to be here for you.”

I didn’t know what to say to this. We instead walked in silence to the elevator. The carpet on the floor was filled with stains and the walls were peeling. It smelled like a mix of multi-cultural foods and weed. The elevator was no better. Most of the letters had been scratched off and the lights flickered constantly. They did have good music though, Gustav humming along to “Do You Believe in Life After Love”.

I knocked on the doorbell, nervous about meeting my parents after so long. What if they wanted me back home? I couldn’t just leave all of my friends because of them. Even though they were my parents, I had people in my life that I genuinely cared about. Or what if they tried to pull the same things they did when I still lived with them? Suddenly my arm started to itch, reminding itself of the burns they would place with cigarettes and crack pipes.

My dad answered the door, in way worse shape than I remember. His hair was falling out in places, eyes sunken in and body too pale and thin in his blue shirt and jeans. I could tell what he was doing when his glazed eyes smiled at me.

“Clarissa!” he hugged me unexpectedly, his frail body seeming like it would break by simple movements. It was only for a short time though, my father pulling away when Gustav coughed of his presence. My father stretched out his hand and greeted him, Gustav reluctantly shaking his hand and introducing him as well.

“Well, let’s not just sit around here like ducks,” he laughed at his old joke, a strong laugh replaced with a throaty sort of thing. He ushered us into the apartment, a small place filled with empty wrappers and fast food bags. I could see my mom lying on the couch, asleep and thinner than my father. Gustav and I took a seat on the couch next to it, the only thing separating me from my parents a table between us.

“How have you been Clarissa?” my mother asked groggily, my father waking her up with a quick shake on the shoulder.

“Fine,” I answered quickly, trying to take in the environment. I already got the simple facts: Gustav wanted to punch my parents in the face. What I was really trying to figure out is why they want me here.

The conversation went on, talking about where I live and how school is and what have you been doing in your spare time.

“Okay!” Gustav finally snapped, slamming his hand down on the table. My mother jumped. “What exactly do you want here? Do you want money? Drugs? I know monsters like you would never want to talk to her without wanting something.”

“We aren’t monsters!” my father screamed back.

I finally lost it. “What do you mean not monsters?!” I screamed. “You were the worst people I had ever met! Hey mom, do you remember when I was seven and you burned my left cheek with your crack pipe? No? hey dad, what about the time you were so drunk I had to walk twelve miles to get home from school in the worst snowstorm the county ever saw all because you were high and didn’t want to drive? When I was a child and some of your friends would give me beer for laughs? And what about your friend that-“ I started to cry, “-what about your friend that molested me right in front of your eyes?! You didn’t do anything! You just sat there, stoned out of your mind while he-“

I broke down in sobs, resting my head on my knees. I had never told Gustav of “Mr. Happy”, the drug addict that would touch me and make me do things to him from the time I was five to twelve. He didn’t want me when I was going through puberty. I wasn’t “worth his time”.

“You fucking bastards!” Gustav slammed into the table and punched my father in the face. My mother screamed as his fist kept slamming into my dad’s face, breaking his nose and swelling his face.

“We didn’t want this!” my mother screamed, trying to pull Gustav from my father. “All we wanted to do was apologize to you!”

Gustav stopped mid-punch. “I think you’re a little too late,” he sneered.

My father smiled at me, his nose bleeding and left cheek already swelling. “I just wanted to apologize for all of the things I did to you. We knew that we screwed you up, but we wanted to make it up to you.” He looked over to my mother. “Please go get her the gift.”

My mother rushed into the hallway and came back with a blue stuffed bear holding two strawberries. I gasped. I couldn’t believe that my parents remembered the present I wanted as a child. I had pestered them for it each year as a child, only to be given clothes for my birthday or a bike for Christmas.

I slowly walked over to my mother, grabbing the bear out of her hand and holding it. I really couldn’t believe that they remembered.

I hugged my mother and cried with her.

I know that they were terrible people who messed up my childhood, but they were still my parents. No matter what I did now, it couldn’t change my childhood or what happened. I kissed my mother on the cheek, tasting her salty tears on her cheek.

“Thank you mom,” I said, smiling at her. “You too, dad.” I kneeled over my father and gave him a quick kiss on the nose. “I love you two. I hope you know that.”

“Even with what we did?” he whispered. I nodded and kissed him again. “You’re my parents,” I replied. “But now I have someone else looking out for me, and I love him too.” I pulled Gustav away from my father and hugged him. “We should go.”

I gave my father and mother another hug and kiss. I walked towards the door, unlocking it while still holding the bear. “Call me anytime you want,” I added, giving them a smile. “I really want to know how you two are doing.”

My father chuckled. “You might want to start accepting calls from the hospital, because your mother and I are going into rehab soon.”

My eyes glistened. “Really?”

My mother walked over to my father and gave him a quick kiss. “Well, you’re doing so well, why don’t we try?” she smiled back at me. She still looked like a model when she smiled, her teeth flashing and eyes like emeralds. “Besides, it’s time we give this drug thing a stop.”

“Take care of her,” my father said to Gustav. “I don’t want to hear of anything happening to her.”

Gustav smiled and ruffled my hair. “I’ll be sure that she doesn’t put a fork in a toaster anytime soon.”

“Jerk,” I muttered, smiling from ear to ear. I know Gustav was joking, but I didn’t want anything happening to me before I could apologize to anyone in Germany.

Besides, I know not to put a fork in the toaster.