“Your mother’s a bitch. She didn’t deserve you. I hope you realize that.”
His words were harsh, but they comforted me.
“Okay…I opened up about my mother. Now tell me about yours—your birth mother. You said you moved to Cali to find her.”
His lighter clicked before he blew into the phone again. “I never met her. It was too late. By the time I located her whereabouts, my research led me straight to a graveyard. So, I never did actually get to know her. A lot of my questions have unfortunately been left unresolved.”
I felt absolutely devastated for him.
“I’m sorry.” I swallowed, afraid to ask, “What happened to her?”
“My birth mother was a drug addict. She didn’t think she could take care of me. It was how I ended up with my other parents.”
“Do you feel like moving out there was all in vain?”
“No, I still feel like it was meant to be. I was very lost when I first came to California. Life had a lot of lessons for me to learn, and I guess they were meant to happen here.” I could hear him inhale the smoke and exhale. “Okay, this is getting too deep. Quick. Tell me something funny.”
Think.
Think.
Oh!
“You know the song I Miss You by Blink 182?”
“Yeah…”
“Well, for the longest time I used to think it was actually called The Voice Inside My Ass because of that part of the chorus where he talks about the voice inside his head. He was saying ‘head’ not ‘ass.’ But it sounded like ‘ass’ to me. Always thought that was a weird title until I figured out the truth.”
Landon began to laugh hysterically. “What in the ever-living fuck? The stuff that comes out of your mouth sometimes…” When he finally calmed down, he sighed. “You say the weirdest shit and you’re a mystery…but you’re good for my soul, Rana.”
That night, I went to bed with a huge smile on my face, even though I couldn’t sleep. With each conversation we’d had, I felt more and more connected to him.
Since insomnia was winning out, I got up from bed and ventured into my closet to read another one of Landon’s old notes. This one was kind of ironic.
Rana Banana,
Sometimes when I think of you, I laugh for no reason and I can’t help it.
Landon
P.S. But today it happened at my grandfather’s funeral, and my dad got really mad.
CRAZY EYES
Lilith passed the basketball to me. “How’s your boyfriend?”
I threw it back with more force. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
She caught it then dribbled the ball before shooting it into the hoop. “You seem happy.”
“I guess, I am happier lately.”
Lilith stood there with the ball tucked under her arm as she just observed me and smiled. Her glasses slid down her nose, and she used her index finger to prop them back up. I swore that kid could see right through me.
Taking out my phone, I said, “Come here. Check this out.” I pulled up Landon’s lunch truck app. “This is his lunch truck. This lets you see where he is at any given time. Isn’t that so cool?”
She didn’t seem as interested in the app as I was. “So, it’s like an app for stalkers?”
“No…well, I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Is he handsome?”
“Yes…really handsome.” I sort of felt like a preteen gushing to her.
“So, why don’t you want him to be your boyfriend?”
Unsure of how to explain my messed-up head to a ten-year-old, I chose to keep my response simple.
“I don’t want a boyfriend.”
“Why not?”
“Boyfriends make life complicated.”
“Well, I want one.”
“You’re way too young, so don’t even think about it.”
“I hope I can be pretty like you when I get old enough to have a boyfriend.”
Hearing her say that sliced at my heart. “You are pretty. Don’t ever let anyone lead you to believe otherwise.”
“I don’t look like the other girls at school.”
She really reminded me so much of myself when I was a kid, and it was killing me. I never had anyone tell me that there was nothing wrong with my looks. I spent so much of my adolescence hating myself. If I had one job, it was to make sure that Lilith felt good about herself.
“It’s okay to look different, Lilith. Beauty is only a matter of opinion. If you believe you are beautiful, then that’s all that matters. These are really tough years you’re approaching now. Your decisions now and as a teenager can change your entire life. Just make sure you talk to me or someone if you’re ever feeling like life is too much to handle. And never let anyone convince you that you’re not worthy, only to take advantage of you.”
She nodded then abruptly changed the subject in typical Lilith fashion. “Will you braid my hair?”
“Of course.”
When I returned to my apartment that afternoon, I jumped at the sight of my father sitting down and drinking coffee at my kitchen table. Every time he would sneak into my place, I would forget for a moment that he had a key. He’d given me the down payment for this apartment with the condition that he would get his own key to check in on me whenever he wanted.
“You scared me.”
In his thick, foreign accent, he said, “Why you no-have heat, Ranoona?”
My father’s nickname for me was Ranoona. Not sure exactly where that came from.
“I do have heat. I just keep it really low.” Pouring myself a mug of the coffee he’d made, I asked, “How long have you been here?”
“One hour.”
I looked to my right and noticed a rather large, blue and white Holy Mary statue on the counter. It looked like something you’d see in someone’s garden or in front of an old woman’s house. She had rosary beads wrapped around her neck.
“Where did that come from?”
“Garage sale. Someone throw her out. You believe?” He lowered his voice as he looked toward Lenny’s room. “You need Blessed Mother to protect you from this crazy guy. I no-like him. He have-a crazy eyes.”
“Shh.”
My father always said you could determine the level of crazy in people by their eyes. I did believe there was some truth to that. People with crazy eyes had a way of looking through you and not at you. There was a disconnect of some sort.
“I can’t kick him out,” I said.
“I kick him out,” my father insisted.
“No, Papa. Please, don’t make trouble.”
He sliced me a piece of apple and handed it to me. “You no-eat healthy.”
“Coffee and popcorn is plenty healthy,” I said, taking a bite of the Granny Smith.
He cut me another piece and placed it on the table in front of me.
My father may not have always known how to handle me, but I was happy that we were at a point where we could sit down and just enjoy each other’s company. Although he was always opinionated, he’d given up on believing that he could change me.
“You dance for the Greeks tonight?”
I laughed a little. “Yes.”
He took a sip of his coffee. “I no-like this job.”
“Really? You’ve only mentioned that a thousand times. It’s only temporary. I’ve told you that.”
“You quit, I give you money.”
“No. I need to support myself. You can barely pay your own rent.”
“I move in with you.”
“In that case, I will never stop dancing.”
They told me they would up my hourly rate if I tried it.
Even though I was terrified, I agreed. Now, I had to wonder if I seriously needed my head examined.
If only Papa could see me now. No, I would not be telling him about this one.
It was heavy and slimy. With a gigantic snake wrapped around my neck, I clicked my finger cymbals and swayed my hips, praying that the time went by quickly. My boss assured me it wasn’t venomous. I sure as hell hoped he was right.
For some reason, all I could think about was what Landon’s reaction to this would have been. Would he think I was nuts, or would he think it was really cool? As I shook my ass to the drumbeat, I thought of Landon standing on the beach with the sunset as the backdrop. Once again, I was dancing for him—my slithering friend and I were.