I Understand Now

I drove Gordon to my house even though I felt like I was losing my mind. I lived in a two-story house with a sprinkler spritzing our neatly grown garden in the front. Our tiled pathway to the front door was neatly swept and cleaned. The lights were on inside. It almost looked like we were a normal family. Almost.

"Gordon, you don't have to do this," I said.

"I know. But I want to. I like you." And he left it at that.

I took him inside and dropped my backpack in my room like I always did. My dad was pacing in the living room like he always did when he was anxious. I approached him with Gordon at my side and he didn't notice us. I had to clear my throat to get his attention.

"Oh, hello," he said.

"Dad, this is Gordon, Gordon, this is my dad," I gave the brief introduction and they shook hands. "We're going to chill in the basement for a while and play some video games."

"All right." The look he gave me said that it wasn't all right and that there was going to be hell to pay afterward, but he let us go without another word. He was too preoccupied with what was going to happen tonight.

I didn't even know why I was doing this.

I took Gordon upstairs to my parents' room, where my mom would probably be wasted on the bed with an empty beer in her hand. Gordon suddenly slipped his hand into mine and interlaced our fingers. I would've at any other point in my life shaken him off and cussed at him, but for some reason, I didn't.

I knocked on the door. "Mom?"

"I know they're out there." I flinched. She sounded like she was right in front of the door. I could hear her breath, ragged, against the doorframe. "You brought them here."

"No, I brought my friend Gordon," I said. "Do you mind if we come in?"

She didn't answer, but I couldn't hear her breath against the door anymore.

I opened the door slowly. My mom was staring out the window, her hair greasy and tangled, and her clothes were soiled. There were two beetles crawling on the glass outside.

When we stepped in, she snapped her head around. Her sunken eyes fixed onto Gordon.

"You're one of them," she stated.

Gordon's hand gripped mine.

I realized I shouldn't have brought him here. My mom would probably only go through a fit and scare him. But Gordon said something I didn't expect. "No, I'm not one of them," he said. "I can understand why you would think so. I know what happened to you."

"Of course you do. Of course," she said.

That was when I wanted to leave. I felt my chest tighten and I had a really bad feeling sink into the pit of my stomach. All of the sudden I knew that something was going on here that I didn't know about. All of the sudden I had the strangling sensation of not understanding.

"There is good and there is bad," Gordon said. His voice shook. "I am not bad. I am good. My family is good. And they are good."

My mother followed his gaze to the beetles outside the window.

"No," she said.

"They want to help you if you let them," Gordon said.

"No," she said.

"Then stay the way you are. You are only a woman of unfortunate circumstances. You will not get better if you don't let someone help you."

"No one can help me," she said.

"Yes they can." Gordon's voice dropped to a whisper. "Yes they can."

"NO!" my mother screamed, and she ripped the lamp out of the wall and hurled it at us. There was a flash and a crack of electricity and I grabbed Gordon and pushed us out of the way. I felt the glass shatter onto my back. Gordon swore and all I knew was that we were running.

My dad bolted past us. "Get him out!" he yelled. "Get him out!"

That was all I could do. I got Gordon out.

---

"What was that!?" I demanded. "Tell me what just went on!"

Gordon didn't say anything and fumbled in his pocket for a cigarette. We were outside. The air was chilled and I thought some of that glass had cut me. Gordon pulled out his orange lighter.

"You wouldn't understand," he said.

"But I want to understand!" I nearly screamed. "Tell me, Gordon! Tell me now! What is wrong with my mother?"

Gordon drew out a cigarette, but didn't light it. He just put it back into the package and then into his pocket.

"I will ask you one last time," he said. "Do you believe in magic?"

I wanted to strangle him. But for that brief moment, I told myself to calm down and think. He'd asked me that before. Did Gordon mean something about that that I didn't know about? Was there something more to this that I didn't yet understand?

The boy took a step forward and reached out to touch the port-wine stain on my neck. His gentle fingers made my heart flutter. I wanted to push him off, but for some reason I let him caress that spot.

"I don't believe in magic, but I will try to understand it. Tell me what this magic is," I barely managed.

Gordon smiled and that dimple appeared in his cheek again. His hand ran its way up the nape of my neck and into my hair.

"Take me back home and I'll show you," he said. "I think you'll believe it there." And then he leaned up and pressed his hot, sensual lips against mine.