Shut Your Eyes

I didn’t expect Vero and I’s lazy afternoon watching movies in bed to turn into a group affair. We were supposed to be responsible adults, yet here we were sprawled across Marc and Vero’s bedroom with our eyes glued to a TV. Even though To Kill a Mockingbird is my favorite movie (and book), I was having hard time concentrating.

Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t the 200 lb. man sitting next to me, although he wasn’t making it any easier. I was busy watching Max. Not five minutes earlier, he had excused himself from the room with a phone call only to come back in a few moments later looking angry. He took his seat just as quickly as he’d left it, and shoved his phone into his jacket pocket.

While everyone else seemed oblivious to his change in mood, I could see the tell-tale signs all the way from the bed. A muscle in his jaw twitched as his mouth formed a straight line, and his eyebrows were furrowed slightly. Instead of watching the movie, his eyes were burning a hole into the wall.

I turned my attention back to the movie, trying to focus on that instead. No matter how hard I tried, though, one question still burned in my mind.

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

When the movie ended, Max had tried to drag me out of the house like it was on fire. Vero was having none of it though, cornering me for goodbyes in the foyer.

“So you’re coming to the game tomorrow, right?” She asked with a smile on her face and I nodded.

“I’ll be there.” Max was standing by the door with a frustrated look on his face. His arms were folded tightly across his chest and he anxiously tapped his foot on the floor.

“I better go, Vero. Max looks like he’s about to lose it.” I said quietly, and the raven-haired beauty rolled her eyes.

“If you must.” She sighed and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me into a hug. Thankful that she didn’t grab me by the ribs, I wrapped my arms around her middle and gave her a squeeze.

“Je t'ai tu tellement manqué, Maggie.” (I’ve missed you so much, Maggie.) She whispered into my ear. Pulling back, I gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Je t'ai manqué aussi.” (I missed you too.)

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She said with a smile and released me.

I walked over to Max and he uncrossed his arms, opened the door, and ushered me outside in a rush.

“Où est le feu, Max?” (Where’s the fire, Max?) I asked as he dragged me towards the car.

“Nous avons besoin de parler.” (We need to talk.) He said quietly, an eerie calm to his voice. My steps stopped short and my breath hitched in my throat. Those words didn’t sound good coming from anyone, much less from Max. Walking ahead without me, he climbed into the driver’s seat of his car and looked up at me through the windshield.

Growing up with Max, I learned to read his emotions. I recognized the way he smiled a wild, excited grin when he was happy. I knew how his eyes lit up dangerously when he was plotting something. The determined set of his face when he was focused was seared into my memory. Through the glass of his windshield, however, Max was staring at me with a look I’d never seen before. His steely blue gaze bore into mine, eyes soft with concern, but his face set in fury. I’d never seen him look so scared and so mad at the same time, and it scared me a little bit.

The heels of my old, worn combat boots clicked softly against the pavement as I walked over to the car and climbed inside. Staring out the window, Max waited until I was settled before backing out of the driveway and heading towards downtown.

The car was silent. Usually Max turned on the radio and sang along off tune and out of key, but today his hand went nowhere near the button. I didn’t bring it up when he drove past the exit we usually took to go home and instead opted for the exit to downtown Pittsburgh. Soon, I realized where he was taking me.

It was where Max and I always went to talk. It was where I’d told him about Gavin. It was where he’d begged me not to move to Philadelphia. And now it would be where we’d have another talk; its topic still a mystery to me.

In an empty parking lot down on the waterfront, Max parked the car. A decrepit factory building stood off to the side, metal walls rusting and covered in cobwebs. Weeds were starting to pop up through the asphalt, and an old abandoned truck sat under the factory awning, glass broken out and the driver’s door missing. No one was ever here but us. It offered Max moments of peace and quiet in his hectic schedule. The view was beautiful, the silence overwhelming, and it was all ours.

Max exited the car and walked down to the edge of the lot, climbing over a chain-rope and leaning on the large wooden post it was attached to. It would have been a beautiful picture. The photographer side of me was having a fit over the contrast between Max’s dark hair and the grey sky that always accompanied winter in Pittsburgh. Mentally, I committed the scene to memory and got out of the car, walking over to join my brother at the water’s edge.

He wouldn’t look at me. I stood next to him, my arms wrapping around myself trying to keep warm. Noticing my discomfort out of the corner of his eye, Max shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over my shoulders.

“Merci.” (Thanks.) I said, and Max nodded, looking back out at the water.

“J'ai attrapé le téléphone par erreur.” (I grabbed your phone by mistake.) He said quietly, pulling a black iphone out of his pocket.

“Je ne savais pas qu'il était le vôtre jusqu'à ce que quelqu'un a appelé cet après-midi.” (I didn’t know it was yours until someone called this afternoon.) He continued, absentmindedly flipping the phone over repeatedly in his palm.

“Pendant le film.” (During the movie.) I thought out loud. Max nodded slowly.

“Je n'ai pas chercher à savoir qui appelle avant a été j'y ai répondu. Imaginez ma surprise quand Gavin était à l'autre extrémité.” (I didn’t look at who was calling before I answered. Imagine my surprise when Gavin was on the other end.) He spoke quietly, and I could tell he was choosing his words carefully. I stayed silent.

Max turned to face me, grimacing as if it pained him to say the words. “Je n'ai jamais été aussi en colère, Maggie. Je n'ai jamais voulu faire mal à quelqu'un si mal.” (I’ve never been so angry, Maggie. I’ve never wanted to hurt someone so badly.)

I opened my mouth to say something, but Max held up a hand and silenced me. “Laissez-moi finir. J'ai besoin de le dire.” (Just let me finish. I need to say this.)

His voice wavered as he spoke, but he kept going before he lost the courage. “Papa m'a fait promettre que je prendrais soin de toi, et je n'ai pas. Je n'ai pas réussi comme un grand frère.” (Dad made me promise that I would take care of you, and I haven’t. I’ve failed as a big brother.)

A tear rolled down my cheek, leaving a wet trail in its path. It broke my heart to see Max like this. My indestructible big brother was crumbling before me, and it was my fault.

“J'aurais dû vous a forcé à rester à Pittsburgh. Je n'aurais pas dû te laisser partir avec ce monstre.” (I should have forced you to stay in Pittsburgh. I shouldn’t have let you go with that monster.) Max spat out the last words as if the very mention of Gavin left a sour taste in his mouth. He stayed silent for a second, letting himself calm down before he continued.

Max’s eyes were glassy with tears. “Je ne peux pas laisser cela se reproduire. Tu êtes un adulte, et tu pouvez prendre ta propres décisions, mais si tu revenez à Philadelphie, tu seriez prendre la mauvaise décision.” (I can't let it happen again. You're an adult, and you can make your own decisions but if you go back to Philadelphia you'd be making the wrong one.)

“Max…”

“Je sais que vous avez vos raisons pour partir, mais vous n'avez pas à avoir peur de lui, Maggie.” (I know you have your reasons for leaving, but you don’t have to be afraid of him, Maggie.)

I stayed silent, tears rolling down my face. Max inhaled unevenly, still trying to hold back as many tears as he could. His voice broke with his next words, though, and I could barely make out the words through Max’s tears.

“Je tu en supplie, Maggie. S'il vous plaît ne pas y aller.” (I’m begging you, Maggie. Please don’t go.)

Not knowing what I could say, I just nodded. Max breathed a shaky sigh of relief and pulled me into a hug, pressing a kiss into my hair and exhaling a thank you.

I’m not sure how long we stood there. Max seemed afraid to let go, almost worried that I’d change my mind once his arms left me. When he finally pulled away, he wiped at his eyes roughly, shoving that side of him back inside. There’s no crying in hockey. I looked down as he composed himself, allowing him a minute to regroup.

He handed my phone back to me. It felt heavy in my hand, Max hadn’t told me what Gavin had said on the phone, but I had a feeling I didn’t need to know. For the first time in my life, I made a split second decision and threw the little black brick as far as I could into the river. Max just stared at me with his mouth slightly agape. As it splashed in the water, I felt a small weight lift off my shoulders. It wasn’t a huge step, but it was a step in the right direction and that was all that mattered.

Max tossed an arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his side, pressing another kiss into my hair. We walked back to the car slowly, not looking back at the water behind us.

“Je suis heureux que tu dis oui. Je voudrais viens de traîné ton cul en arrière, de toute façon.” (I’m glad you said yes. I would have just dragged your ass back anyway.) A chuckle broke through my lips, and a familiar grin spread across Max’s face. I knew it was his way of compensating for breaking down. Crying wasn’t a common occurrence for him, and it made him uncomfortable even if I was the only witness.

“Partons nous choisir de la peinture pour le condo. Avez-tu commencé à penser à des couleurs?” (Let’s go pick out some paint for the condo. Have you started thinking about colors?) Immediately I began talking about color schemes and which room to paint first.

Max smiled as I chattered on about colors and accent pillows, and we climbed into the car and headed toward the paint store, leaving an empty parking lot behind us and a black iphone sinking into the Monongahela River.