Don’t Let Me Down

By Simon Jimenez

Chapter Two

“Fallout”

*

“This is a dream…” I said, not believing that he was dead. I shook his shoulders, but he did not rouse. I screamed in his face, but he did not flinch. I cried, and he stayed silent, sprawled in a pool of sticky, crimson blood, watching me with the empty eyes of a broken doll. “Wake up, wake up. Please… wake up.”

“He got what he deserved,” was all Bethany said before she gingerly put away her weapons. Wide black wings sprouted from her back and she flew away, calling out, “The Tidal Wave is coming.”

“Shut up!” I yelled, but she didn’t hear me. She was already gone. I turned back to Brody and shook his body. “You’re not dead… please tell me you’re not dead. Oh god, what the hell is happening… wake up, please, wake up…”

But despite my pleading, he moved not an inch, and his skin began to pall. The car headlights behind me dimmed out to black, casting me into the darkness. A wolf howled against the violet blue of moonlight, and my tears began to flow, drip by drip against Brody’s bloodied face.

“Don’t leave me alone…” I begged. “Wake up… wake up…wake up.”

Suddenly, in a moment’s snap, the world disappeared, and I fell into the abyssal trench that separates awake and dream. Wake up, I willed myself, but my heavy body kept plummeting, faster and faster, until my eyes rolled back into my head and a chorus of stars and galaxies soared past my sight.

Then, I hit my desk, face first.

“Mr. Ryan, what’s the matter with you? There’s a test in session.”

Eyes teary and vision slightly blurred, I scanned the many surprised faces staring at me from around the room, suddenly remembering I was in Pre-calc, taking a test that was worth half my grade. Only when the person sitting next to me snickered uncontrollably did I realize my exam paper was glued to my sweaty forehead.

I raised my hand. “I need to pee.”

When the enormous Mr. Vale signaled with a slight gesture of his hand that I was free to go, I stumbled my way out of the room, still not in full reign of my senses. For some reason, the world kept tilting sideways as if on an unstable axis, making it very difficult for me to make it to the bathroom.

I had to steady myself over the sink as I let cold water run down my face, with steam rising up against the mirror on contact with my clammy skin.

When I closed my eyes, enjoying the cooling sensation of the running tap, I saw her face, those eyes dead and black, trying to drag me into the dark abyss. I saw Brody’s mangled corpse on an empty street. I saw blood.

Jolted, I stepped away from the mirror, gazing at my face as streams of water ran down my cheeks. Dark bags had begun to collect underneath my eyes. I hadn’t slept properly in days. It had been a week since the night encounter with the so-called Angel of Death, with no sign of danger since then, but I still couldn’t close my eyes without seeing her face, menacing, coming for me. 

“What’s wrong with me?” I asked aloud, not caring who heard me. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

My mirror-self simply smiled, shook his head, and walked back to class, remembering there was a test waiting, along with the rest of his life. He decided that he wouldn’t let some old woman with a knife determine his happiness. He had the guts to ask Brody on a date, instead of avoiding the damn bastard like a coward, in fear of saying or doing something stupid, thus ruining all chances of holding onto his vague notion of a relationship. 

I envied my mirror-self who stood brave and nonchalant, and decided that maybe I should be more like him. I started with the smiling and shaking my head bit, then walked back to class. It wasn’t until the bell rang and I handed in my test did I realize I left the water running in the sink, and that there was an entire backside to the exam I neglected to notice.

Inside, my mirror-self was covering his face, wishing he could be someone else’s reflection.  

“You didn’t finish half the test? Isn’t that like, bad for your grade?”

I glared at Melvin, the only guy willing to sit at my lunch table, as he wolfed down his mother’s pesto pasta. His body, shaped like a black Michelin man, rippled with ecstasy as food poured into the bottomless chute I recognized as ‘his mouth’. “Yeah, Melvin,” I replied dryly, “it’s bad for my grade.” I lowered my head against the table, wishing Brody would hang out with me during lunch for a change, instead of eating out with his jock buddies. Of course, if I asked him to, I’m sure he would without hesitation.

The question was… why didn’t I ask?

“You worry too much.” Melvin had finished his food by now, and was wiping his mouth on an embroidered napkin. “In the scheme of things, one poor test doesn’t measure much at all.”

“The test was half my grade.”

He giggled that childish giggle of his and stood up with his stuff. “Harbor, tomorrow, the grade won’t even cross your mind.”

What makes him say that? “What makes you say that?”

Melvin didn’t hear me. He was already halfway across the cafeteria, unloading his trash into the dark recycling bin, ignoring the catcalls from a neighboring table as some guy tore down his high fastening pants, revealing Melvin’s tight checkered underwear. Many people looked, laughed and pointed. Melvin may have smiled through it all, but I could see it in his eyes that each laugh hit its target.

He couldn’t help it. He was a sponge.

I remembered the first time I saw a bully pick on him; I was so disturbed I broke the asshole’s nose (and my hand). Melvin stuck to me like a love-struck pet afterward. Since then, I’d slowly become accustomed to the jeers and insults hurled at him on regular occurrence. I was tired of sticking up for him, a losing battle that wasn’t going to be won as long as Melvin was Melvin, and since he wasn’t going to change, and I had no intention of changing him, it was a moot point.

“It’s my little brother’s birthday today,” he mentioned, taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes as he sat back down. “I got him a book on Greek mythology. He loves that stuff. Do you want to come to the party? My momma’s baking triple fudge cake.”

“How old is he?” I asked, fingering my tater-tots.

“He’s turning eight.”

I said no, told him I had other plans, but somehow made it to Melvin’s house just in time for the party, much to his amusement. His little brother’s name was Ellis, and I could swear that they were twins the way they both seemed to smile sunshine. He was a nice kid. I bought him a mini figurine of Zeus holding a lightning bolt like a trophy from a kiosk at the Station mall. He gave gratuitous thanks for the gesture, and I shrugged, figuring it was no big deal. People should get presents on their birthday.  

The night went on, and I slowly realized I was the only non-family member in attendance, watching from the outside in as Ellis’ family congregated around him in the darkened living room, the only light source being the eight warm orange candles flickering before the boy’s face. The darkness made me uneasy, so I stepped closer to the light. Everyone cheered when he blew out most of his candles and it all went dark. I tried to remember the last time my mother threw me a party, the last time she cheered me on, but just couldn’t get a grasp on the memory. I felt lost, and the darkness was surrounding me. I could hear Bethany’s voice in my ear, whispering nonsense, my mirror-self laughing mockingly. I wanted to go home.

“Harbor,” Ellis called out. Everyone looked at me. “Do you want to blow out the last candle?”

I was surprised, mostly because I had just met this kid and now he was asking me to blow out the last candle on his birthday cake as if we were old war friends. Not understanding his agenda at all, I walked over cautiously and leaned toward the single flickering flame dancing over the smooth chocolate cake. I didn’t want the light to go away, but everyone was waiting for me, so, in one quick breath, the flame was gone, and everyone cheered. When someone turned the lights back on, I looked over at Ellis, he smiled at me, and that was that.

Melvin and his mom drove me home once the party was over. They thanked me for coming and drove off, leaving me at my carport; oblivious to the fact that Brody was sitting on my porch.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said simply.

The unexpectedness of it all freaked me out so much that I pissed my pants. Literally. I was standing there, wet jeans and all, with Brody wearing a look that said ‘I’ve seen all I need to see here’. And just when I thought the situation couldn’t get more uncomfortable, the asshole burst out laughing. He didn’t stop laughing as he opened the front door for me, and followed me to the upstairs bathroom. His howling continued as I changed out of my clothes and washed myself.

Then, the laughter stopped. I looked over to see what was up, only to discover he had opened the bathroom door, watching me as I doused water over my body, stark naked.

That was when I looked over at the mirror, only to see my mirror-self was gone. All I had was me, and it was now or never that I did what I was so afraid of doing.

“Date. I want. Go. I mean, take me date. I want… damn’t. Take me, dude. On a date. Please.”

Brody remained silent, and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He kept walking toward me until we were just barely mouth to mouth, until I could feel the heat of his body on mine, and said, “I can’t believe you pissed your pants.”

I frowned. “I can. Standing in the dark, suddenly hearing a voice over your shoulder, a voice belonging to a guy I’ve been, as you said, avoiding for an entire week can really startle a guy.”

He sat down on the bathtub rim. “Yeah, what’s up with the whole avoidance thing? I feel like I’m playing whack-a-mole. And I suck at whack-a-mole.”

“Oh my God, you blow at that game,” I recalled, smiling at late night carnival memories. The smile faded, as Bethany creeped back into my mind. She always came back. “I’ve been distracted lately.”

“With what? School? Melvin told me you didn’t finish half of your math exam. That’s not at all like you.”

“Okay,” I held up my hands in defense, “first of all, I’m going to gut that bastard. Second, you’ll find it’s incredibly hard to finish an exam when for the past week you’ve been literally assaulted by dreams of impending doom.”

“Um, you lost me.”

“Bethany,” I explained, and he held on to his poker face. “I can’t stop thinking about her. What happened that night… it fucking freaked me out in a profound way. I can’t sleep without a bright light on, and even then it’s only for two hours at a time before I wake up screaming. I can’t close my eyes without seeing that knife pressed against my throat…” I took a breath, “…but most of all, I can’t even look at you straight, without remembering that I hardly know you. Brody, you frighten me.”

My friend let out an incredulous laugh, barely holding back a smile. “I frighten you? Harbor, we’ve only known each other for our entire lives. Hell, didn’t I save your life?”

“But that’s just it,” I exclaimed. “How did you know where I was? How did you save my life? Where did you get a gun? Why did a bunch of hobos come to my rescue? How do you know Bethany? Does your mother know about your double life? Do you see a trend here? I don’t know anything. How am I not supposed to be frightened?”

Brody just kept staring at me, giving that poker face he gives so well, staying silent for an unnervingly long time. He turned around, and headed for the door. I thought he was going to leave, but he didn’t. He instead turned the lock and took off his shirt. The fact that I was still naked was not lost on me. Then he took off his pants. Was I allowed to stare, or should I be watching the sky? Then his boxers.

He then walked over to me. I resisted the urge to step away. I could feel his breath on my mouth. “Look at me,” he whispered. “I’m not a monster. I’m just … I’m human, Harbor. You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

“I don’t want to be.” I tried to restrain a frown. “Why does it feel like something terrible is about to happen?”

Brody leaned forward and planted his lips on mine. I relished the soft connection for as long as it lasted, which was for a brief few seconds before he pulled away and smiled. “Tomorrow night, seven pm. Meet me at my house. I’ll give you a date.” He giggled softly. “Harbor, your boner is stabbing my thigh.” 

“Okay, if you don’t see how I can be so incredibly turned on right now, you really aren’t human.”

He nodded knowingly. “I can see.”

“Then sex me up, Scotty.” I gave him the best puppy dog eyes I could manage and a long, stretched out, “Please.” But he didn’t ‘sex me up’. Instead, he slipped back into his clothes, and left after just one more kiss which I tried to make last as long of possible. I walked him to the door and watched as he drove away, my heart still caught in my throat. I could hardly breathe.

That’s it, I told myself. You are whipped.

“Harbor!” I jumped literally seven feet when I realized my mother was standing in the kitchen doorway with a hand over her eyes. “This is not a bathhouse. Put on something, anything, for the love of God.”

I ignored her, prancing up the stairs not caring who saw my package. There was definitely something wrong with me. I couldn’t stop smiling.

*

It’s surprising how far a little bit of good news will go in terms of mood. Well, first off, it scared the hell out of me how giddy I was just to think that tonight, I was going to be on my first date, with my first real crush. Second, Bethany didn’t even enter the equation as I stared into the mirror, dressing myself up, attempting in vain to make myself look good, but not too good. I guess I was going for semi-casual slash sexy.

Maybe I shouldn’t have used that entire tube of hair gel.

My sister, Gwyn, was rolling by on her wheelchair when she saw me in the bathroom, and couldn’t help but laugh when catching me in the act of trying to make sexy faces with my reflection.

“Hot date?” She asked, only half-interested.

I did an air guitar move. Oh yeah, I was hot. “Most definitely hot date, lady.”

She rolled away, muttering, “you’re such a loser” or something like that.

“Hey, Gwyn,” I called out, following her to the hallway, “um, when you first went out with Jack, how nervous were you?”

She pulled out a velvet scrunchy, tying those long blonde locks in a tail. “Not as much as you, thank the lord.” She turned back to her room. “Two things to remember, Harbor. One, don’t embarrass yourself. Two, don’t expect fireworks on a first date.” She wheeled herself into her room, but before closing the door, gave me a measured look and said, “But, Brody’s a hell of a guy, so who knows what to expect.” She winked, and shut herself in.

I was speechless, having never told her about Brody, or that I was into guys for that matter. That was when I realized the bathroom was right next to her room, and the walls in this house were anything but soundproof. I wondered if my mother knew, but decided that even if she did, she wouldn’t make a big stink about it. She hardly talked to me. I could come home with a heroine needle stuck in my arm and she wouldn’t give a second glance from her work papers. Whatever. That made it easier to sneak out at dinnertime, since she didn’t give a damn, making seven o’clock the perfect time to start a date.

I got to Brody’s house a few minutes early, overestimating the time it would take the bus to make it to the inner city. His loft was on the third floor of a drab tenant building. It almost seemed like he lived alone, since his mother was in the hospital so frequently. I asked once if he was lonely living up there. He told me that he didn’t have time to be.

“Right on time,” he said opening the door for me, “and really dressed up.” I stepped into the familiar place, warm even in its simplified industrial architecture. He was putting on his school sweatshirt. “Sorry,” he said, gesturing to his outfit, “just got out of the shower.”

“It’s cool,” I replied, now feeling kind of silly that I was wearing a tie. “Did you want to go out, or--?”

“I was thinking we could stay in. I’m kind of tired. I can cook if you want.”

“You cook?” This surprised me considering I’d never seen him go near a stovetop.

“Hot pockets,” he smirked. “Or we can order pizza. Your choice.”

Anything was fine with me. Truth be told, food wasn’t what was on my mind, a fact made oh so evident each time Brody leaned over to pick something up, letting the back of his shirt lift just enough to see some skin. Just being around him was driving me crazy, and the desire to see him sans clothes again was stronger than ever.

We ended up ordering pizza with the works piled on top. It was kind of cute the way Brody picked out each individual ingredient and popped them in his mouth. When he caught me staring at him, he threw the bit of sausage he was holding right in my face. After eating through half of the pie, I took of my tie and socks and loosened my pants, suddenly realizing how hot it was in there. Soon enough, an empty pizza box sat between us, as we were on opposite ends of the couch. I batted around a piece of olive left on the cardboard and said nothing, not knowing what to say. I listened to the clock as it ticked away the seconds, then minutes. Brody sat back against the couch, eyes closed.

“Hey, Brody, what do you think about…” but I trailed off as soon as I realized he was asleep. He must’ve had a long day since it only took a matter of minutes for him to zonk out. His thin lips were parted as he breathed small wisps of air, his black licorice hair a worried mess. He was beautiful no matter what state he was in. Normally I’d feel jealous of someone like that, but not this time.

This time, all I could think was, How did I get someone like him?

I picked up the box and lowered it onto the floor, then crawled over to the other side of the couch, careful not to wake him up. I brought my face close to his, watching his face with an unusual intensity reserved for only the most nerve-wracking of moments. My hand lifted, and I put my index finger in my mouth, wetting it with saliva.

Then I stuck it in his ear, screaming, “WET WILLY!” 

To say Brody was startled would be an understatement. He yelped louder than I’d ever heard him yelp before, skyrocketing out of his seat like a cat with a stepped on tail.

“What’s the deal?!” He yelled, rubbing hard against his ear, staring daggers at me. 

“Payback’s a bitch.”

“Payback? What are you talking about?” He was still scrubbing, and looked really mad. “Damn’t Harbor, why’d you have to be such an ass? Didn’t you see I was sleeping?”

“Relax dude, it was just a joke.” I honestly didn’t see why he was so upset. I thought it was funny. “You used to do that to me all the time.”

“That was then. This is now, and I just got home after what could most accurately be described as the longest day of my life. You think I want to deal with your disgusting spit in my ear?”

I stepped forward. “It’s spit, not the blood of Christ. Get over it.”

He met my challenge and stepped forward as well. “Well why don’t you take that spit and get the hell out of here, because I don’t feel like dealing with a stupid baby right now.”

“Oh right, I keep forgetting you’re the adult here, mister superhero saving the world from old ladies with knives.”

Brody stepped forward, this time with slightly more menace. He was breathing fire down against my face. “At least I’m doing something with my life. Or should I be like you, cowering in my bedroom, pissing my pants, hiding from the old ladies like a pathetic, sniveling cave troll.”

I glared at him, fists clenching and unclenching. “Well… at least I’m not a… you know… yeah.” I looked at him as if I had delivered the best insult in town. “So there.”

He scoffed. “Nice one, butt-breath.”

“Go to hell, garbage face.”

“You first, scrotum head.”

“It’s ladies first, valley girl.”

That was when he grabbed my collar and whispered, “God you make me so hot,” and tore off my shirt, letting buttons fly across the room.

I pinned him to the floor in one dramatic thud. “That shirt cost me fifty bucks,” I said right to his face.

Brody sneered. “It was a rip-off.”

I shook my head, and muttered, “You are so dead,” then pulled him up to me and kissed him hard and deep. Our lips and tongues mashed together like a car wreck. Brody’s hands felt me up over my back, then my chest, massaging my skin. He stood up and lifted off his sweatshirt, revealing his smooth body. I jumped up onto him and he carried me by the thighs and kissed me again, stumbling backwards into a lamp, letting it shatter on the ground, to which we both looked over until he muttered, “screw it”, then resumed biting my neck.

Eventually he lowered me down and walked into the bedroom with a glint in his eye that told me all that I needed to know. “Wait for me,” I yelped, trying to lose my pants and walk over to the room at the same time, almost falling to the floor a couple times. Finally, I made it, and threw my pants away.

Brody shut the door with a lock, and we started on the bed. The entire time, my eyes were on his, except for a brief second when I looked out the window only to find a crow perched on the ledge, looking back at me. I stared at the black bird as Brody kissed down my chest and waistline, and gasped when it flew away.  

By morning, my virginity was gone.

*

Melvin was waiting for me at my locker as usual, smiling as I floated down the hall.

“Someone had a good day,” he said as I put away my backpack.

I shrugged, pulling out my math textbook. “Good night.”

As usual, Melvin walked me to class. He kept asking me why I was in such a good mood, and I kept telling him to mind his own goddamn business.

We were half-way to class when a group of guys came up from behind and shoved Melvin to the ground. I heard a shatter. His glasses were smashed. This made them laugh even harder.

I felt different that day, which was made apparent when I threw my book at the guy who pushed my friend. He caught the textbook with both hands. With nothing to stop me, I punched him in the face and heard a crack. His friend yelled ‘Holy shit!’ and the guy was sent to the hospital minutes later with a towel pressed against his nose, while I was sent home on a week’s suspension. My mother drove me home without a word. Gwyn just laughed during dinner when I told the story and said, “You sir, have balls of brass”.

I went to sleep that night and dreamed of a gleaming ivory tower standing in a stark, barren landscape of red canyons. The air smelt of salty ash, and the dark clouds above scorched the sky with silent thunder and rain. The land began to collapse and break, splitting down the sides in a violent quake. I could feel the incredible earthbound vibrations in my chest, throttling my heart and lungs.

Right before the quake hit the tower, I screamed “Stop”, and everything froze. The clouds were at a standstill, and the ruptured land was paused in mid-break. Even the air had halted. I tried to walk toward the tower, but a hand from the sky reached down and pulled me away from the world, and the dream ended.

It was midnight when I woke up, sweating. In the moonlit darkness, I went downstairs for a drink, and was surprised to see my mother sitting alone in the kitchen underneath a single lamp light. She was eating from a bag of chips.

She slowly stopped eating when I crossed kitchen and opened the fridge for the milk. I poured myself a glass, unnerved by the feeling of her eyes on me in deep study. I drank, and she spoke abruptly, causing me to cough milk all over the counter.

“I would’ve punched him too,” was all she said before walking away with her chips. 

“Mom, wait,” I found myself blurting out. She stopped at the kitchen doorway and looked at me with those unreadable eyes.

“What?” She asked.

I had no idea. Talking to her wasn’t exactly something I’d had practice with. “I, uh, thanks.”

She ate another chip. “Clean up the milk before you go to bed.” Then she went upstairs without another word.

That was when the phone rang. Hesitantly, I picked it up, wondering who could be calling at such a late hour.

“The Seven are coming with the end of the world,” said the hoarse whisper. “One month. Prepare yourself.”

“Who is this?” I asked.

The line went dead. Confused, but very tired, I hung up the phone and went to bed, wondering if the sky would be falling anytime soon.

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