29 - Samantha
It’s a soggy afternoon. I’m watching the rain drops chase each other on the glass window of Phillip’s truck, bumping into one another forming new shapes and blobs. They appear to be racing. They seem to be having a better time than we are.
We’re taking a drive, but something is bothering Phillip. He’s abnormally quiet and a little short fused today. I’m not sure if it’s something his father said to him or what. Usually that’s the case. If he isn’t his happy self, it’s due to his father. Coach has several opinions about his son’s future all stemming from football. I was hoping that since the season was over, maybe some of the tension would relax. But as it turns out, no such luck.
I can’t take the silence anymore and as the rain begins to let up, my races are disappearing. “You wanna talk about it?”
“When have I ever wanted to talk about it?” he answers coldly, staring out the windshield. He’s as cold as steel, not even flinching. And he sounds like his sister.
I start to bite my tongue, realizing he needs to work through whatever is bothering him. But then I know that won’t be good for me. Or him. Bottling up problems only hurts you. It becomes toxic and then before you know it, it ruins everything it can touch. I can’t let that happen.
“Where’s my Phillip? Have you seen him?”
“I’m right here.”
“What did you do with him? My Phillip doesn’t have to grit his teeth to talk to me.” I stare at him until he looks over in my direction. He gives me a sideways glance then looks back at the road, a scowl on his face. The muscle in his jaw ticks before his tense exterior visibly relaxes.
“I’m sorry.” The place between his eyebrows creases together in frustration.
“Did I do something?”
He reaches for my hand. “Is that what you think?” He looks over at me again, his expression full of agony. He pulls my hand up to his mouth and kisses the back of it. “It’s not you. Don’t ever think that. You could never make me angry.”
“Then what is it? It hurts me to see you so upset.” I unbuckle my seatbelt and slide to the middle of the seat so I can be closer to him.
He hesitates, but as we arrive closer to town, he starts to talk. “Dad’s driving me up the wall. He’s being ridiculous about my college applications. I thought he was bad about performance during football season, but this is over the top.”
“You mean he’s worse?” I’m shocked. Well, not shocked that his dad’s being a tyrant, but shocked that he could be worse.
“Yes. He had the audacity to accuse me of not being able to choose the right school.”
“What did you say to him?” Phillip’s face is glowing red. Hopefully, he can calm down after venting some.
“I argued that I can, and he argued back instructing me on which school I WOULD be attending, according to the best football programs and lines to the NFL.” He’s gritting his teeth again at this point.
“But that’s not what you want.”
“I know that, and you know that. He won’t hear of it.” Phillip clenches the steering wheel. “Then he threw my brother in my face saying that he would have made him proud. Like I don’t.” Ouch. That hurts. “That one was like taking a bullet.” I try to put my arm around him. His eyes are crazy, furiously scanning the road as we drive. “You know what’s worse? The part that I’m most mad about?” I shake my head but don’t say anything yet. “I resent my brother. How sick is that?”
Tears burn in my eyes because I can now see his pain. The torturing root of Phillip’s pain is that he is so miserable from his father molding his life, he began loathing his older brother for being killed by a drunk driver. But Phillip’s life, as he wants it, was over the moment the coroner declared Chase dead.
We pull over. “What’s wrong with me, Sam?” He hits the steering wheel. I’ve never seen him do this before. “Can Chase forgive me for that? I don’t want to be like this.”
“Why don’t you ask him?” I suggest without thinking.
Phillip snaps his head, his eyes sharp and penetrating. He probably thinks I’ve lost my mind.
“Look, Cyn told me once that you haven’t been to see him. Maybe if you...” He’s already shaking his head defensively.
“I can’t go in there.” Phillip apparently doesn’t want to go to the cemetery, which oddly enough is exactly where we pulled over. I don’t think he realizes it, but just across the street is the cemetery where his brother is buried.
I point in that direction. His eyes follow to see what I’m showing him, and he freezes, still like a statue. All the color drains from his face like sand in an hourglass.
“How about I take you?”
He’s still frozen. “Um, I’m not sure about that.”
“Well, I think it might help.” I pull his chin over so I can gaze into his horrified brown eyes. I take his baseball cap off and set it on the seat next to me and run my fingers through his hair until his eyes close and he begins to loosen up. I watch as the tension gently softens, although never totally disappearing.
We sit like that for a bit longer. Me running my fingers along his cheek and through his hair, trying to calm and ease his pain, while Phillip tries stoically to remain quiet and fight his demons. Finally, I stop and tug his chin toward me so I can look in his eyes.
“I’ll try, but I don’t know if I can. I don’t know how,” his unsteady whisper wavers. I kiss the tip of his nose like he always does me when I’m having a rough day.
“Let’s go. I’ll be with you every step of the way, holding your hand if you want.”
He reluctantly nods in agreement, then opens his door and I follow him out.
Slowly, we walk across the street and enter the cemetery through the large rod iron gate that’s wide open. Welcoming. His steps become slower, but I know where to go because I’ve come with Cynthia on several occasions. She comes to visit her big brother often. I usually stay a few rows away allowing her privacy for as long as she needs. Sometimes she’ll stay only a few minutes while other times she stays a long time. I’ve even seen her lie on her stomach alongside Chase’s plot because she simply isn’t ready to leave, and I have never rushed her.
We reach Chase’s gravestone which reads:
CHASE MICHAEL WARD
Beloved son, brother, and friend
Always to be loved, never to be forgotten
At first, Phillip’s tension is unrelenting. I try to pull him a little closer, but his feet are rooted as if cemented to that spot in the ground. I remain supportive, holding his hand. I can tell he’s trying to avoid getting upset because he’s holding his breath, but I decide to break our uncomfortable silence.
“Hi, Chase. It’s Samantha, from across the street, I’ve come with your sister before.” I squeeze Phillip’s hand. “Be easy, your little brother’s kind of nervous today. He’s afraid you might be upset with him. I know it’s been a while, but I assured him this would be ok.” I hesitate to evaluate how Phillip’s doing. I expected him to bolt at any given second, and I think he considered it because his feet shifted. But then, the clouds part and allow just enough sunlight to stream down where we’re standing. A few birds begin chirping and that’s when he breaks down.
“Flip’s here.” He inhales sharply and quickly forces it out. He’s still attempting to fight tears. Phillip looks down to me for absolution or comfort or permission to leave, I don’t know. “I can’t ...” he shrugs.
“Just talk, you’re doing fine,” I encourage him, rubbing his arm while firmly holding his hand. I can see it’s not enough, so keeping one hand touching him, I step behind Phillip and slip both my arms under his and touch his chest with both palms of my hands, hugging him from behind. I lay my cheek along his back and exhale, slow and soothing, helping his breathing to match mine. Phillip audibly swallows hard, fighting a lump in his throat.
“I’m sorry it’s been so long.” I can feel his muscles tense, but I just nuzzle him, silently letting him know I’m with him. “Mom and Cyn are doing ok.” Then he hesitates.
“Would you like me to step over there, give you some privacy?”
“No!” He grabs my hands in a panic. I squeeze him back reassuring him that I won’t move.
He looks back at Chase’s stone and tries again. “Dad’s pushy as ever. That never seemed to bother you though.” He falls silent again and I can feel Phillip holding his breath.
“Tell him how you are. It’s ok,” I suggest. Phillip clings to his silence, so I begin in his place.
“Phillip misses you. He’s trying to make your dad proud, and he hopes you’re alright.” I try to say the things I think could be on his mind. That opens the flood gates. Phillip begins bawling and he drops to his knees.
“She’s right. I do miss you, bubba. I miss hanging out with you and I miss you calling me Flip. I miss you playing ball. I miss dad trying to do everything with you,” he pauses for a moment and grits his teeth together again, “I miss not being angry with you and I feel bad for admitting it. I’m such a monster for it.” Tears are flowing out of him faster than I’ve ever seen on any man. Did I do the right thing by bringing him in here? “I got mad at you for leaving me here and putting everything on my shoulders.” His hands are balled into fists. He takes a slow deep breath in and then lets it out. “I don’t wanna be bitter anymore. I need to know if you can forgive me, bubba.”
I rub his shoulders, trying to sooth and console him. He turns to hide his face in my shirt as he clings to me. I hold on, giving him all the time he needs. He took big steps today and I’m extremely proud of him. I can only hope I did the right thing by dragging him in here. When his breathing returns to normal, he pulls back. “I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry,” he whispers, standing back up and wiping the last tear from his cheek.
“No, you’re not. You’re just fine.” I smile warmly and touch the palm of my hand to his cheek. He wraps his hand around my wrist and closes his eyes, holding my hand in place to nuzzle it.
A few minutes later, Phillip says his goodbye and we begin to walk back to his truck. His body is no longer tense. He seems to have released a lot of bottled-up anger. I didn’t know I’d be helping diffuse a bomb today. He had so many frustrations pent up that he was ready to detonate at any moment. Before Phillip opens the truck door for me as he always does, he turns me around to face him.
“Samantha?”
“Yes? Are you alright?”
He leans closer. My back is against the door now. He places his hands on either side of me. “I am thanks to you. I haven’t been able to go in there until today and I want to thank you for that. You gave me the strength I needed.” The corner of his mouth curls up in an effort to smile. His eyes are still glassy, but he appears to be relieved.
I don’t know what to say, so I smile and reach up to wrap my arms around his neck. Pulling him down a little more to my level, I touch the tip of my nose to his and look him in his eyes. “I love you, Phillip.” Then I kiss the corner of his mouth and climb in the truck to go home.