Special

On my first visit in the Way household, I felt some slight intimidation. The house was rather big, but the lights were always dim. The house had two rooms, and a crappy basement. I would compare it to my house, but I’d rather not to avoid sheer embarrassment.

“I have the bigger room,” Mikey had said. “Gerard doesn’t really care where he sleeps.” The thought of him sleeping on the streets entered my mind and I shuddered.

I learned a lot about their family in the course of ten hours. Especially Gerard, he was the most unique. The ugly duckling of the family, to be blunt. Like whenever we would stay in the kitchen, you’d here whiny sounds from the basement, which how Mikey explained as “Gerard’s singing”.

Childish was how I would describe him, childish and vulnerable. I’d have to say dinner was the highlight of the day. I learned that Donna Way enjoyed cooking, and she has well at it. Pasta was on the menu, everybody was seated down on the table. “Grace first, boys.”

I gave Mikey a knowing look before bringing my thumb up to my forehead and making a small cross across my chest before hiding my hands under the table cloth where they should be clasped together. They weren’t, and I knew that Mikey was doing the exact something.

“In the name of the father, to the son, and to the holy spirit. Amen,” someone says. Across the table, you could hear Gerard praying, and beside me Mikey was snickering. Gerard has his hands on top of the table, unlike us, his palms were pressed together and his eyes were closed and a smile on his face.

He looked like an angel.

After ‘saying grace’ – Mikey snorted when he heard this – we ate the delicious pasta dinner. I pigged out, to be frank. Because that’s my name, Frank. Frank is me. Get it?

“Gerard, this is Frank,” Donna Way smiled, trying to get her son’s attention. “He’s the nice man that helped you last night.” Gerard didn’t look up, instead he lifted his index finger, and dragged it across his palm, like he was writing something. I learned from Mikey that yesterday’s happenings was because of broken glass that caught his foot.

“Frank . . .” I heard him say. His voice was quiet and hoarse. My eyes got a bit watchful then. He ate so properly, not a drop of pasta ever left his plate in its way to his mouth.

About two or three times, my glass ran out of water. Whenever Gerard caught sight of an empty glass, he’d walk to the fridge and bring out a pitcher half filled with water and he’d fill the glass. He will fill the glass, even if you didn’t want him to. Gerard did with Mikey; he had to push him away before he even reached Mikey.

“Stupid OCD boy, doesn’t know how to fucking listen to me,” he cursed under his breath. His mother gave him a disapproving look but held her anger in. She wouldn’t want to explode on her child about swearing in front of a guest. Instead, she told him to wash the dishes.

I laughed at him and headed to the backyard. It was cold like every single night in New Jersey, like every single night I went out for a smoke. I lit the white stick, and I heard someone say “Rust . . .”

Gerard was sitting in the ground, flashlight and book in hand. It wasn’t any ordinary book, it was a dictionary. A red, thick and boring dictionary. He was reading it, it was unusual. “Noun . . . Deterioration, as of ability, resulting from inactivity or neglect . . .”

I almost forgot what I was doing there. The cigarette already had ashes falling off and I brought it up to my lips. Inhale. Exhale. “What rhymes with rust? Bust, must . . . tru-“ he started talking again but his hand flew on his face and he started coughing madly.

He picked up his things, the dictionary and flashlight, the tiny bulb still on. And he dashed into the house, not a word escaping his mouth. I could hear his loud steps on the stairs. My eyebrows arched, not knowing what really happened.

Shrugging it off, I thought it was normal. A lot of things in the Way household wasn’t really normal, but it was to them. That thought immediately changed when Mikey ran to me and slapped the cigarette out of my hand. “Fuck, dude. You have any idea how much those things cost?!” was my first reaction.

“Frank, let me make one thing clear, you don’t smoke in my house. Especially in front of Gerard, do you know what he’s doing right now?” his voice was angry, and I could tell he was trying not to shout.

I rolled my eyes, “You guys have anything against smokers? That it?”

He glared, shaking his head. “Gerard is raised wrong. Smoke is bad to him, Frank. Very bad.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You wouldn’t.”