Riiiiing Riiiiiiiing
The sound of ringing slipped into every nook and cranny of the clustered, dark living room. The blinds are shut tight, preventing any speck of sunlight from flooding into the house. It’s dark and crowded, certainly not big enough for one man, but strangely, it oozed a comfortable aura whenever one walked through the creaky doorway.
Riiiiiing Riiiiing Riiiiing
Whoever calling is persistent, and the ringing did not stop. There’s a sudden rustle of blankets near the small kitchen. The ringing is now blaring throughout the entire house, and a weak whine can barely be heard from the torn couch that was long ago shoved into too small of a corner. Groaning, a mass of dark blankets suddenly rises and socks with two big toes coming out of them suddenly appear from beneath the blankets. Like a dog aimlessly sniffing out a bone, the figure trudges sightlessly towards where the ringing is loudest, strikes a hand out, and the silence returns.
The tall, lanky man walks towards the fridge, shedding the blanket like a snake would shed its skin. No, the mature and sophisticated word “man” fails to describe him. He’s really just a young man, a boy, in his mid-twenties, but his unkempt appearance of disheveled hair, dirty nails, and unwashed face made his once youthful, white skin a dull gray. He yawns, but soon scrunches his face in disgust, the smell of his breath and faint yellowish teeth preventing him from wanting to go into the public eye a few miles south.
A faint blue light soon illuminates the hallways as the refrigerator door squeaks open, and the sound of nails scraping against the floor can faintly be heard. Looking down at the faded carton of milk in his hands, he cautiously brings it towards his nose, and immediately regrets the decision. He tosses the rotten milk back into the fridge and shuts the door. Sighing, the boy walks back to his haven: the old, springy couch. On the side table, there’s a cracked frame with a half-burned picture of a once happy family. Beside the picture lay a handful of letters, some read and some ripped, all by the same loving woman who only worried about her dear son, whom she hasn’t seen in ages.
“Come here buddy, come here” He hoarsely whispers, motioning his hands towards his chest. A shadow emerges from the darkness and slowly walks towards him, its paws trembling with every step and its body swaying slightly with every inch closer.
“Come here Daisy, you can do it. Good girl”. Stroking her coarse fur, Wilson lays back against the comfort of the hard couch. “What should we do today Daisy? Do you want to go for a walk down to the fields?” Connecting his eyes with those of the big, sad dog’s, he saw that she did not wish to walk around. “How about we sit outside girl? We can smell the fresh air and lie down on the grass.” The dog did not budge. Defeated, he gathers his arms around the oversized dog and lifts her frail body. “Come on Daisy, we can watch the stars show up as the sun begins to fall”. Although she still did not budge, her ears perk up at the word “stars” and she rests her head contently on Wilson’s forearm.
Continuously looking down at the floor, he plays a short game of “Let’s-Try-Not-to-Trip-On-Unknown-Things” as he walks to the back door. Wilson lifts his foot and pulls the door handle down, feeling the warmth of the sun embrace the inside of the cold house. He walks carefully until he reaches a small space of green grass and places Daisy down, then he follows her lead.
Lying beneath a tall, thick-rooted tree, he stares up at the sky. As if an artist was in a hurry, he sees glimpses of rushed strokes of pink, purple, orange, and red intertwine with one another until they eventually blend into a soft, navy blue in-between the branches. Beneath him, he can feel the cool grass turn slightly warm, but not too warm that it made him want to move. On the edge of a deep slumber, Wilson closes his eyes, being hypnotized by swirls of red, blue, and pink dance across his eyelids. As his limbs succumb to the softness of the dirt, the once warm air turns chillier as the shadows of the trees inch closer, and goosebumps appear on his skin. The hairs that didn’t stick onto the back of his neck by sweat tickle the sides of it, and nature soon made him uncomfortable enough to lightly kick his legs out and adjust his position. Just as the looming presence of sleep is about to overwhelm him, a buzz from Wilson’s back pocket shakes him back to reality. He jumps up, feeling a creeping beneath his skin, whereas Daisy remains beside him, unfazed. Her eyes drowsily look at Wilson as she strains to hear where the sound is coming from. As if ordered to bring out his phone and answer, he hesitantly reaches into his back pocket and takes out his outdated Blackberry. Mom the phone read, and taking a deep breath, he answers.
“Hey Mom….Listen, I’m really busy right now and I can’t-”
“I’m sorry Mr. Leack, but your mother couldn’t manage to call you. This is the El Paso Hospital. Mrs. Leack is about to enter labour, however, the father hasn’t arrived yet. She needs someone to sign her forms, and she refuses to go into labour alone. You're the first person on her speed dial. We tried calling your listed home number, but it seems that you weren’t able to pick up.”
“She what?! Why isn’t Tom there? Are you certain there’s not an ugly, grouchy man pacing near her room?”
“I’m afraid not sir. But if you would plea-”
“I thought she wasn’t due for another two months! Besides, the family lawyer said that he would have to take fully responsibility of his child, so call him instead.”
“I’m afraid we can’t reach him sir. We’re going to have to have you come in and support your mother.”
“Support her for what? She’s the one who kicked me out supposedly for my own good, and the whole town knows that! Why should I come back and return to being a disgrace of a son to her and stupid Tom?! Forget it, call somebody else because I’m not making a fool of myself again.”
He hovers his thumbs above the end call button until the strained voice of the nurse returns.
“Please, Mr. Leack, you must come. There is nobody else in town that can act as her guardian. Your mother needs you now, and she cannot give birth alone! Please come quickly, the baby will soon be your half-brother, and he is still a part of your family.”
“That’s bullshit you know. I don’t have a family anymore, so don’t try and pull that cr-” A sudden high pitched scream is heard on the other line, and chills tingled down Wilson’s spine. “Hold on Mrs. Leack, the doctor is on his way!”, he hears. Wilson crouches into a fetal position and shuts his eyes, trying to find some sort of stability as he slowly begins to rock himself back and forth, an old habit that never quite died. Everything's fine....Mom will be just fine without me and she doesn't need me by her side. She never did and she never wil-Black spots were dancing across his eyes, toying with his vision. His head feels as if it's spinning around, like the merry-go rounds his mom used to bring him to when he was young. Mom….The person who shut his ears whenever the shouting got too loud. Mom….The person who would tuck him to bed and whisper that everything will be alright. Mom….The person who wiped his tears dry and kissed his forehead whenever the school kids would taunt him about the psycho of a man he was forced to call Dad.
“Hello? Mr. Leack, are you there? Hello? Mr. Leack, Mr. Lea-” Unknowingly, he brought his fingers to cheeks, finding them completely drenched with hot tears.
“I’m in Ciudad Juárez, it’ll take me 40 minutes to get there. But tell her I’m coming, tell her I’m on my way!”
“Sir, we aren’t sure when she’ll be due or what time the birthing will happen. But we advise you to come as quickly as you can.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming. Just tell my moth-” Another ear-piercing scream resonates from the other side of the phone. “Why isn’t the doctor here?! Call the doctor Nurse Amy, call him quic-”
“HOLD ON MOM!” Wilson shouts, his veins bursting out of his neck and his face beat red. Daisy now lifts her head, wondering why Wilson is suddenly getting up. “Tell her I’m on my way and to hold on! Oh, and fyi, while you’re doing your job, what type of doctor gets the birth date wrong by two months?! How are you people running your hospital if you can’t even get the date of the birth of a real person right?! And why isn’t a friggin’ doctor with her?! OH FU-” He barely manages to keep his mouth shut as his legs tangle with the thick tree root. He tries stand up straight again, feelings his legs get wobbly. All he wants to do is lay down and think that this is all a dream. Wilson feels something cold trickle down his chin, but he ignores it. “Is she alright? Tell me she’s fine! Has it started?? WHY ISN’T A DOCTOR WITH HER?!!” There’s a muffled crackling sound on the other side of the line, and Wilson calms himself enough to shove his large hand in his torn jean pocket, finding a used tissue and brings it up to his nose, the white colour soon turning blood red. Balancing his phone between his left shoulder and ear, he frantically grabs his jacket and keys from inside the shack.
“Mr. Leack, please calm down and start your car. We’ll try to get a hold of Mr. Gregson as soon as we can.”
“You better get a hold of him! BY THE TIME I GET THERE, THAT PIN-HEAD BETTER BE THERE OR ELSE I’LL GO FIND HIM MYSELF!!” Wilson shouts, and slams his phone shut.The blood still trickles down his face, as if the bad memories were beginning to slowly trickle into his brain. Running his fingers furiously through his greasy hair, he slips into the only pair of good slippers he has and quickly puts Daisy back inside the house.
“I’ll be back girl. You stay here and rest on your bed okay? There’s yesterday’s meat in your bowl if you’re hungry”. He shifts his gaze towards Daisy’s water bowl, there’s dust and hair floating in the murky water. His insides churn and his heart becomes heavy. I’ll get what water I can when I get back Daisy….Just stay here and be safe. With a final loving pet on her head, he runs out the door, swearing as worn clothes and pizza boxes prove to be obstacles along his way.
He rushes into the driver’s seat and slams the car door. Daisy, who’s lying on the couch where he once laid, can only twitch her ears at the sound of Wilson leaving, whining and snuggling deeper into her spot, closing her eyes, trying to keep herself warm.
In his Volkswagen, Wilson swerves between every car, ignoring every honk and insult that people throw at him. His eyes shift, looking from left to right, unfocused. How could that bugger frame my dad of having an affair and have Mom kick him out...He should be next to her right now, but I bet he’s at the county club as he always is...He can feel the old Volkswagen creak and shake, the mirrors rattling and the seats trembling. Mom, hold on. I’ll be there soon, I’ll be there. Please, just hold on. He steps on the acceleration with all of his weight, and drives as fast as he can with the rusty car that his old paps gifted him for his sixteenth birthday.
The image of his car gradually fades in the distance, leaving behind a trail of dust and smoke. But little did he know, that when he returns after his mother gives birth to his half baby brother, that his home that provided comfort whenever he cried for his long-gone mother and fellow siblings, that his home that shielded him from the whispers across town and the meaningless apologies from employers, would be empty. Daisy would be there, but she would fail to open her eyes or tiredly wag her tail. Daisy, his best friend who had trailed behind him on the street. Daisy, who never once resented him or barked at him, though he couldn’t give her enough food to eat, enough water to drink, or toys to play with. Wilson would never be able to hear her whine or have her wrap herself around him when the tears sometimes won against him. Instead, he would have to look into the starry night sky and sit beside the tall, thick tree where they used to always lay to feel her next to him. There her soul would lie, in the brightest star of the night, and while he lays there, he will forever ingrain the image of a trail of paws and blood that he found near the back door on the day he came back.
