Chapter 12 Mason #2
I'd lived with Tira and Zem for five years after escaping from Ricky. Tira had been like the grandmother I’d never known and Zem had become my little sister.
I’d loved them both, but I knew that if I wanted to do anything with the chance, the life, she’d given me, I needed to get an education.
While I’d earned my GED online, I'd refused to let Tira pay for college and Washington State University had provided me with the best financial aid package.
I’d been anxious, exhausted and more than a little lost when I’d shown up on the grounds of Washington State on Orientation day.
I’d thought that I'd planned for all possible problems and allotted ample travel time, plus a bit of cushion, to be able to arrive in Seattle and try to find someplace to live before school started, but the bus ride from Wisconsin to Seattle had taken almost twice as long as I’d anticipated.
It had eaten up all of the extra time I’d allotted, and then some.
I’d had a full-on panic attack during registration when one too many people had brushed up against me. Lizzie found me sobbing in the disability access stall in the women’s bathroom where I’d fled in my terror.
I’d been huddled on the floor in the corner of the stall.
I still remembered the curious look on her face when she had swung the door open and rolled into the stall.
We’d sat there for a few minutes as my sobs slowed and my mind had slowly calmed from the adrenaline coursing through my system, her soft brown eyes looking at me, but without pity or judgment.
“So,” she’d said finally, her voice calm and mildly curious. “Which are you, today?”
My tears had finally stopped, but it had taken a few minutes for my mind to wrap itself around her words.
“…What?” I’d managed to choke out.
“Which are you?” She repeated, rolling her wheelchair towards me. “Sometimes in life you’re the windshield. Sometimes you’re the bug.”
She punctuated her question with a skinny finger poking into my chest.
“Which. Are. You. Today?”
“Um, today?” I managed to rasp out. “I think I’m the bug,” I said. “I think I’m always the bug.”
She flashed me an insouciant grin.
“Nice to meet you, Bug. I’m Lizzie. Now wait outside. I have to pee.”
Lizzie had helped me register for classes, including setting up an account online so I could avoid the horrible crowds going forward.
She’d taken me under her wing, and from that point on, we’d been almost inseparable.
She was a sophomore going to school for business while I'd applied to the school’s fine arts program.
It had been Lizzie’s constant encouragement that had convinced me to pursue my dreams and get my graphic novel published.
She’d helped me through the process of legally changing my name, and guided me as I created the persona and brand of Mason Cameron.
Her business acumen, intuitive understanding of human nature and her ability to sweet talk just about anyone into just about anything had resulted in a partnership that made both of us happy.
I shook my head. She knew me well enough to tell when I was lying, so why bother?
“I’m fucked, LizBiz,” I said.
“Tell me,” she demanded calmly. So, I did. The awful first day in the airport. My panic attack at the hotel. The high of the signing, dinner, D&D… and then, “The Fall”…
“Well, fuck,” she muttered, as I told her about Lee’s exit. “And there for a minute I thought he might be a keeper.”
Me, too. I thought, sighing, but refusing to say it out loud.
“Oh, no you don’t,” she said, her voice sharpening. “I know that sigh, Mason Cameron Malone. It is way too soon for you to be giving up on this guy.”
“I’m not giving up,” I countered defensively. “Not exactly. I’m being realistic.”
“Really?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just like you were ‘realistic’ about your chances of getting published?”
I harrumphed. This wasn’t the same thing, and I told her so.
“You’re right,” she agreed, far too easily. I knew something was up.
“It isn’t the same thing. It was much less likely that you’d get published than that you would meet a guy who thought you were as amazing as I do.”
I sighed again.
“I shouldn’t have done it,” I said. “He was so amazing… Liz, you’d love him,” I smiled. “He’s beautiful, strong, sexy. And a huge nerd,” I laughed. She laughed with me but let me continue.
“I just… Liz. I didn’t ask, I just acted.
W-what if… What if I end up like him,” I got out, finally naming my worst fear, but unable to bring myself to say Ricky’s name.
I dropped my hands into my still damp hair, grabbing it tightly.
Over the years I'd shared my whole story with Lizzie, so she knew damn well who I meant when I said “him”.
“Oh Bug,” she said, her voice low with sympathy. “I wish I could get you to see yourself the way I see you. You are not now, nor ever could be, anything like your uncle.”
I sighed. I wanted her to be right. Hoped she was, even. But I kept remembering the look on Lee’s face when he’d told me I’d been out of line…
“Speaking of family,” I said, deciding a change of topic was in order, “How’s your mom doing?”
“Smooth, Mason. Real smooth. I’ll allow you to get away with such a clumsy transition just this once, because she’s much better,” Lizzie answered. “We finally got her blood sugar levels under control. They’re talking about installing an insulin pump to help before she goes home.”
Lizzie’s Mom had been a type II diabetic for most of her life. Lizzie had planned to come with me to Akron, but two days before we were supposed to leave, Lizzie found her mom unconscious in her apartment with sky high blood sugar levels. If Lizzie hadn’t been there, she would have died.
“I’m glad she’s doing better, LizzieB,” I said. Lizzie’s mom was a sweetheart. She’d raised Lizzie as a single mother and the two were very close. We’d spent many college weekends at their townhouse in Seattle.
I’d shared an apartment with Lizzie for most of our college years, but she had finally gotten her own place once she graduated. I’m sure that me walking in on Lizzie and her boyfriend, Everett, having sex in the living room one morning had nothing to do with that decision… Right…
We chatted for a few more minutes, but I knew she had to be at work soon, though it was only 11 a.m. my time. Time zones were a bitch.
Lizzie worked for Crowe International Talent Management in Seattle. She represented a number of artists, writers and performers, though she always insisted I was her favorite…
We finally said goodbye and I decided I needed to get some work done. The next few hours were spent working on my upcoming graphic novel. Dark Angel II introduced a lot of new characters and I was a little behind on completing character profiles and sketches.
I took my things out to the kitchen, powered up my laptop, and went to work.
Every now and again I was distracted by some random animal wandering across the backyard.
So far, I’d seen squirrels, both black and brown, birds of all colors, and some little mini squirrel-like creatures running over the deck.
This whole place was so different from anything I’d ever experienced before – I really had thought that nature shows and whatnot were bullshit, but after watching all the critters today and listening to the tiny squirrels chitter and yell at the birds, it made me smile.
A long time later, I came out of the fog that usually descended on me when I worked. My stomach was growling, and a glance at the clock told me it was almost 5 p.m. I smiled down at the pictures I’d drawn and the outline I’d completed. I’d gotten a lot of work accomplished today.
Lee’s note said he’d be home at 6 p.m. Maybe I could make dinner by way of apology?
I took a look at the contents of his refrigerator and the cupboards.
I spied some ground beef, pasta, and tomato sauce.
Spaghetti, maybe? It was one of the few meals I really knew how to cook.
I got the ground beef out of the refrigerator and started it cooking.
I found bread in the pantry and was delighted to discover a whole lazy Susan full of spices.
Not that I knew what to do with anything except cinnamon or garlic, but still…
Within a few minutes, the house started to smell amazing. The pasta was boiling on the stove and I'd just got done brushing the garlic butter I’d made on the bread and putting it into the oven to toast when I heard the door to the front of the house open.
I’d successfully managed to avoid thinking about what I was going to say to Lee all day. Guess my reprieve was over.