55. The Weight Of The World
December 2015
“So, when are you leaving?” Jason Maxx asked the smaller boy quietly. Baylee didn’t look up. Why’d he have to bring it up? Wasn’t it enough to just hang around and chill? Did they really have to talk about… stuff? He shuddered at the thought and didn’t answer for some time. Meanwhile, he felt Jason staring a hole through the back of his head. Although winter had almost begun, there were still hammocks in Jason’s backyard. He and Baylee loved to just hang around in them and chill.
Jason was a cool guy, Baylee had known him ever since first grade and they’d been friends from then on. And though teachers hated it whenever the two were together, Baylee couldn’t wish for a better friend. In many aspects he was everything Baylee was not and Baylee was everything Jason was not. His former neighbour friend was tall, standing almost at six feet at age thirteen, whereas Baylee, inheriting both his parents genes, hadn’t even reached 5’4’ yet. Jason’s dark skin and black hair opposed to Baylee’s slightly tanned skin and blond locks made the two friends as different as day and night. Jason didn’t care about being a part of a group, he was independent and although he didn’t seem to belong anywhere, people still respected him for his ability to stay calm at all times and his great sense of humour. Baylee was different, he was a sucker for even the littlest bit of attention and had quite easily found his way up the popularity ladder. He suspected his popularity in school had something to do with his father’s job though, seeing his status had dropped drastically ever since Dad got kicked out. The others had bullied him slightly when his father had left the group, but Jason had stuck up for him, like he always did. They’d both soon discovered that seventh grade sucked if you didn’t belong to the top of popularity.
Baylee shifted slightly in his hammock. The only problem with Jason was, although he seemed like a really tough, and silent guy from the outside, he loved to talk about serious stuff. Stuff that was going on in the world, stuff that was going on with him, and unfortunately, stuff that was going on with Baylee as well. Jason knew all about what was going on with Baylee and the younger boy assumed that his friend was the only one that did in the entire school. He hadn’t even told the teachers about… stuff. Maybe the fact that he wasn’t actually in school most of the year played a big role as well, as he had been home-schooled whenever Dad had brought him and Mom with him on tour. Those days were over now though…
“T’morrow,” Baylee muttered almost inaudibly. Jason knew that very well, but it was just another tactic to peel a conversation about… stuff… out of Baylee. The last three weeks he’d been fairly successful in drowning out any thoughts of the future. Actually, he, Nick and Dad had taken every distraction known to man not to acknowledge the fact that this coming Christmas was going to suck big time. Dad had declared it the three weeks of eventfulness, which actually meant they were obliged to do something different, something memorable, every single day. They’d been all over the United States as they’d played a game of Poker of Death with AJ, as the Backstreet Boy liked to call it. Sailed all the way up to the Atlantic Ocean on Nicks new sailboat, as the blond had declared his previous one dead and had spontaneously bought a new one when they’d arrived at the docks in New York. The weeks went too fast, and Baylee had found himself living day by day, desperately trying not to think about what was to come. Of course, the eventfulness, wasn’t all that it had been made out to be. Baylee knew his father had good and bad days, which became pretty clear on the fishing trip with Granddad and Harold. Whenever Harry asked if Dad was okay, he’d just answer that he didn’t do boats very well, but Baylee wasn’t fooled. His father had been fine on the sailing boat with Nick and despite his efforts, Baylee found himself quickly losing interest in the rest of the day as the harshness of reality came smashing back. The three weeks of eventfulness had been nice at first, but had taken on a forced pretence, something that was close to obsession in Nick the last couple of days, that Baylee had tried to nicely, but sternly decline his offer to go bowling with Kevin and Lauren today. Instead, he’d wandered around the street and had eventually called Jason to ask if he could come over.
Now here they were, pretending that it was midsummer in their hammocks and lazily sipping on their cokes like there was not a worry in the world. Maybe it wasn’t something different and by no means something memorable, but Baylee liked it that way, and now Jason had decided it was time to talk.
“When will you be back?” the taller boy asked, his voice muffled through a large bite of burned potatoes.
“Dunno, we’ll stay there for at least a month,” Baylee answered reluctantly. Mom and Dad had decided a long time ago that if it ever came this far, they’d return to Kentucky for Baylee and Mom to stay with Grandma and Granddad. But now, instead of Mom, Nick was coming with them. Mom had called the day after Baylee had found the two singers in the attic and had said that it was probably better if she stayed away for a while. He’d been mad as hell at first, because really, how could she? But whenever he saw the burning anger in his father’s eyes when someone spoke about Mom, Baylee kind of understood why it was probably better. He had no idea what had happened in the attic and had the feeling that he didn’t want to know either. When he’d asked Nick about it one day, the Backstreet Boy had looked at him sternly and had growled something pretty close to, “Not of your concern,” and that was that. Baylee wasn’t an idiot, he’d seen the enormous mess of broken glass on the third floor and the numerous cuts on his father’s face, hands, and feet. Add to that fact that Nick’s arm was almost entirely blue, if not purple, and Baylee could assume that at least something disastrous must have happened while he was away. Can’t leave them on their own for a few hours before the world crashes down.
“That sucks man,” Jason commented sadly, “wanna talk about it?”
Haha, yeah right! “Nah, dude it’s okay,” Baylee cut him of quickly, “You know, you should really consider having a talkshow one day,” he joked lightly.
“You are avoiding the subject,” Jason was still looking at him. Was he serious?
“Well observed, my dear Watson,” Baylee replied, breaking eye-contact.
“You know I won’t tell anyone else if you decide you wanna talk,” the older boy promised.
“What are you, like, a girl or something? I don’t wanna talk about that shit, why can’t you just understand? You don’t even know what it feels like! So why do you want to talk about it?” he lashed out and Jason shrunk back. Baylee immediately regretted his outburst when his friend got the old familiar distant look in his eyes. He’d made a mistake, a big one, and it became perfectly clear as he saw Jason nodding slowly, then climbing out of his haddock.
It wasn’t fair, really. Jason had always been there to help him, and now Baylee was only pushing him away. Oh well, too bad. The older boy had had his fair share of crappy stuff, even if he was only thirteen, but Baylee tried often not to think about that. They didn’t talk about it either, so why should he?
April 2016
“So, how would you describe the relationship with your father?” the man asked, only a little monotonously.
Baylee snorted and watched the clock on the wall behind the psychologist. Talking about stuff was never his strongest suit, not before, and certainly not after. He kept staring at the doctor and the doctor kept staring back with that annoying, calm expression Baylee had learnt to hate thoroughly.
“We can sit here for an hour, like we usually do, just looking at one another, or we can have a good talk, what do you say?” the young man asked hopefully. He knew it was no use. The kid was stubborn, refusing to talk about anything but the weather. He couldn’t blame the young boy though, with all that he’d been through.
“I’ll say no,” Baylee growled in a tone that left no room for discussion. The man sitting on the other side was younger than he’d imagined. Couldn’t be older than 25 and although he wouldn’t admit, he liked the shrink’s different ways of trying to get him to open up a little. None of them had worked up until this point though, and Baylee found huge satisfaction in continuing to lead the guy on.
“Fine, then we’ll sit here, wait until the session is over, you’ll go back to your house, and we’ll repeat this same mantra every week until we’re old and grey, is that what you want?”
“See for yourself,” was the vague, useless answer. Sam Burgenson sighed and raked a hand through his brown hair. “You know, I don’t mind it, your Mom will keep paying me either way,” he teased.
“Pfff, not if I tell her that it’s useless,” Baylee warned angrily. Sam smiled, it was one of the first emotional reactions he’d been able to get out of the child. He sat up a little straighter, a sudden idea racing through his mind.
“You know, we don’t have to talk, really,” he began and saw Baylee looking up sceptically, because, wasn’t that what he was here for?
“Huh?”
“No. But we don’t have to sit here and stare at each other either,” Sam continued. “What do you say we play a game?”
Baylee scoffed dejectedly and put his feet on the coffee table. “I’m too old to play games.”
“You’re never too old to play a game, Baylee. Besides, you’re just thirteen. You might think you’re a lot older, but you’re not.”
Baylee’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Sam knew that if the kid could smite him, he would have. “Fine.” The boy relented curtly.
Sam smiled victoriously. “Okay, so I’ll say a word, and you have to think of something that comes up to you as fast as possible. Sounds like fun, doesn’t it?”
“No.”
“Just try.”
“Fine.”
“Okay, here we go. Er, ‘school’” Sam started.
“School,” Baylee replied sweetly.
“Doesn’t work like that,” the psychologist explained patiently.
“Alright, alright, so let’s see, school… boring.”
“There you go.”
“Wait, you’re not getting mad?” the kid seemed a little taken aback.
“No, why would I?”
“Because I just said school’s boring,” Baylee explained hesitatingly.
“That’s not the point, Baylee, besides, I’m not one of your parents, I don’t really care what you think your school’s worth,” Sam stated and smiled a little at the incredulous and suspicious expression on his client’s face.
Baylee nodded slowly, so I can say anything I want, that’s what he’s saying. It could be fun, he though with a smirk.
“Okay, go on.”
“Hah, err, ‘pets’”
“Momo, err, I mean, Lucy,” Baylee corrected himself quickly. Momo was dead, Katie was his now. But still…
“No, you’ll have to go with Momo,” Sam urged.
“I don’t want to, Momo’s gone, Lucy is my dog now.”
“So does that mean Momo’s not a part of your life anymore?” Sam asked.
Baylee’s eyes widened. That bastard! He’d trapped him! This wasn’t just a game, it was psychology!
“I, err, next question,” he demanded.
“Fine. ‘Girl’”
“Katie.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Maybe…” Baylee smiled. He had no idea where he and Katie were standing exactly in the relationship chain, but he’d been seeing her a little more than he’d like to admit, and felt himself attracted to her. Call him arrogant, but he had the feeling that it was kind of mutual.
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“Friend?”
“Jason,” he stated solemnly. Jason and he may not have been on speaking terms for a while, but he was working on that. Or planning to anyway.
“Family.”
“Granddad.” It could have been grandma too, either of them.
“Help.”
“I’m sorry?”
“That’s the next word. ‘Help’”
“Coastguard?”
“Nice one.” Sam commented and Baylee only then noticed him writing something down.
“What are you doing?” he asked, suddenly suspicious again.
“I’m writing down your answers. See how many points you get.”
Baylee didn’t really believe him, but decided to play along, “How much was ‘coastguard?’”
“Twelve,” Sam answered and continued to write. Baylee raised one eyebrow and grinned, shaking his head.
“Jeez, thanks.”
“Morning.”
“Sunrise.”
“Lucy.”
“Dog.”
“Food.”
“Mac and cheese.”
“Nick.”
“Help,” Baylee frowned. He hadn’t meant to say that. He had no idea where it came from. Was that the true purpose of the game? He hadn’t any time to think about it though, cause Sam had apparently found his calling, firing random words at him like there was no tomorrow. Baylee decided not to think about it any longer, to just go with the flow and answered each word with one of his own, finally finding some enjoyment in the game and he relaxed a little on the couch.
“Home.”
“Atlanta.”
“Stage.”
“Performing.”
“Mom.”
“Bitch.”
He didn’t care to admit it, Sam should know what he thought about Mom. Would he ever forgive her? Not in a long run.
“Okay, that just got you 15 points. “love.’“
“Heart.”
“Job.”
“Singer.”
“Money.”
“iPhone,” Baylee nodded contently. It had been one of the first things he’d bought all by himself, and he was proud of it.
“Christmas.”
“Hospital.”
“Fear.”
“Chemo.”
“Father.”
“Dead.”
His whole body grew cold with the last two words. He silenced abruptly, and barely noticed Sam shutting up as well. This could be marked as the point he’d gone too far.
“Twenty points.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
arggh, finally. And although this is just a filler (or maybe not so much) please enjoy and review
