The Broken Road

HAPPY NEW YEAR to all of you! :D

Thank you. Thank you very much for your feedback and warm words. It was, and still is, very important and reassuring. Please, keep in touch with me:) Say what you like and what you don't like. I'm really willing to act on your suggestions if you see the need for improvement in my stories :)

JtheChosen1 - I'll keep up the work, definitely ;) And I hope it'll be good enough.

l.fire - your reviews have something... they are meaningful.
as for comparing my writing to Perseverance story (I think you meant this one :)), I'm honored. I've read it and found it really good :)

yes, you're right: there are a lot of high school fictions on AFF. and somehow I'm rarely sucked in by them. so that's probably why I wanted to show how I see those things...
however, we'll soon leave the high school times behind ;)

ps.
well, I think The Jigsaw grows better after the 3rd chapter. or even after the 4th. that's because, I have to be honest, I wanted to get to "nice things" (something I had on my mind at that time) so badly, that I treated the begining a bit half-heartedly.
my bad, I have no excuse. I think I'll work on it someday :)

Baron_gerin - your impressions are exactely the same as mine ;) I also think that The Broken Road starts slowly, innocently and then it imperceptibly grows, ripens and becomes strong. well, this is at least how I want it to be :) I think that authors often neglect those weak, subtle, indefinable feelings, gestures, events... our lives are full of them, after all :)

Niki - I'm glad you get the characters :) I try really hard to make them as "full" and complex as possible. actually I want them to be complicated, but not hysteric and overemotional :D
I think the greatest tension is born as a consequence of small things that sum up, layer by layer, suck you in and give the deep meaning to sensation, violent emotions and physical contact :)

Oco - thank you for your words, especially that you don't review often :)
thank you for hints regarding other sites. I'm not very familiar with them so I'll definitely take a closer look :)
my reason says that the # of reviews doesn't mean much but... well, reviews make my writing much more meaningful. It's somehow very important to me - to feel that I write for someone. I can't help it :/

Polish, Spanish... we have quite similar grammar so your impression is excused ;) Spanish is quite easy for us to learn.

And now, enjoy the chapter! :)

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Family Matters

Ringo sat on his bed with his knees pulled up under his chin. Kayden had said, of course, that he'd gladly come for dinner. And Ringo was afraid of that meeting. If he could he'd cancel it, for in the present situation it meant nothing but stress and an emotional storm for him. God, why did his fucked up life have to consist of nothing but stress and relationship troubles?

It was stupid, really, that after all the meetings and close moments with Kayden he was so freaked out thinking about a simple dinner, but it wasn’t like he could help it. He had so many crazy thoughts galloping through his head, so many strange feelings. Looking Kayden in the eyes was coming to feel like the biggest possible challenge, and the idea of spending the evening together in his room nearly gave Ringo a heart attack. The only way he was able to perceive Kayden now was from the angle of that weird kissing experience, which colored his other memories however much he tried to make light of it. That and all the shy glimpses, smiles, understanding without words, that had seemed so innocent before.

Ringo adhered his lips to his arm and sucked lightly. He had already forgotten how it really felt to be kissed by Kayden, his memory probably distorted by the passing of time and various emotions to the point where it had nothing in common with reality any more. But he remembered that it had happened, and for the last three days he had got lost in a tangle of contradictory feelings and scattered thoughts.

The unanswered question of why Kayden had done that lingered in Ringo's poor head. Had it been really only because of alcohol? Or had there been something more to it? The fact was that since then Kayden hadn't make any suspicious moves. Sure, they had become friends, they shared some intimate moments, there had been some touching words or actions, but was there anything more than pure friendship? Or was it only Kayden's open, gentle nature, and he was like that with everybody he liked? But if so, then what about that alarmed look he'd had? It hadn't been only his imagination, Ringo was sure of it.

He kept asking himself all these questions and analyzing every tiny scene he remembered, trying in vain to find some answers and get firm ground beneath his feet. Every possible explanation was terrifying, each for a different reason.

The sound of the doorbell was like a death knell. He dragged himself from his bed and down the stairs, took a last deep breath to calm himself, and with a resigned "come hell or high water" attitude he opened the door.

"Hi, bro." Kayden's face lit up with a wide grin. He wore decent jeans, which was a nice change, and a white shirt with a stiff collar.

"Hey, man." Kayden's unusual image made quite an impression on Ringo. The fitted cut of his trousers accentuated the boy's long legs, and the white shirt harmonized nicely with his suntanned skin.

Nothing terrible happened, although Ringo, for some inexplicable reason, expected something comparable to an earthquake. Kayden didn't do anything weird, he just stood there smiling casually.

Well, I must have been overreacting after all. Ringo smiled too, both at his soothing thoughts and at the boy on the other side of the threshold. "Come in, Mr. VIP." He relaxed finally and clowned around as he let Kayden through the door.

"Mom, Kayden's here," Ringo shouted. He took his friend to the kitchen, where Marion raged around doing her best to get the feast ready.

"Good afternoon." Kayden smiled nicely, like only he could, and kissed the floured fingers Mrs Alva held out to him. Ringo blushed with embarrassment. His mother had these lordly manners, he didn't even know from where; and acting on them now, in this kingdom of scraps and dirty dishes, was sort of funny, especially since the piteous princess was attired in an apron with yellow ducks. Fortunately Kayden took it gracefully, in his natural unpretentious style. Ringo gave him an apologetic look, which Kayden dismissed with a reassuring, honest smile.

Yeah, this guy was really something.

Five minutes was long enough for Ringo to laugh off his stupid, blown-up problems that had pestered him for the last few days.

During the meal Kayden reached the ultimate in diplomacy as he deftly meandered through the conversation, avoiding the reefs of dangerous subjects and brilliantly dissolving the tension during rare moments of awkward silence. Ringo was very grateful to his friend for this unusual kindness and tact. He could see his mother blooming like a flower. She had simply fallen in love with the handsome, charismatic boy, laughing at his jokes and accepting his complements with a blush, like a teenager. Ringo thought she suddenly looked ten years younger and had to blink quickly a few times to overcome a surge of emotion, as his eyes glazed over precariously.

To tell the truth, he hadn't expected Kayden—who was a delinquent, after all—to be able to manoeuvre so skillfully in such a delicate situation. He turned out to be an injection of life for Marion. Well, people always hide riddles, no matter how well we think we know them.

At some point Ringo started to feel a bit like a fifth wheel, Kayden and Marion hit it off that well. He even envied Kayden his easygoing attitude, the ability to say something meaningless to keep a nice chat going. Ringo wasn't like that at all. As much as he cared for his mother, he always had a hard time trying to cheer her up and being an interesting partner for her in conversations about everything and nothing. He had learned to say only things that he considered worth saying and meaningful, thinking it was the right approach to take. Now, looking at these blabbing people, he wasn't so sure of that.

That night Ringo went to sleep with a pleasant memory of the event that he could almost call a family dinner. The last one like that had taken place...oh, never mind. A long time ago.
He smiled at himself in the darkness of his room. He was happy he hadn't canceled the meeting due to his hysterical obsessions. Kayden was so okay! With a warm feeling in the area of his fluttering heart, a head full of Kayden's smiles and pretty gray eyes, his fingers subconsciously pressed to his dry lips and the pillow cuddled somewhat more tenderly than usually, Ringo fell asleep, excited about their anticipated meeting at school the next day.

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It was Saturday again. Nice, but chilly. Ringo put on his light army-style jacket and worn army boots and waved goodbye to his mother. As soon as he turned his back to her, his face lost its cheerful expression. He was tired. Not that he was complaining, as things were going in a good direction, but he was tired nonetheless.

Marion had been trying hard for the past several weeks, attending her therapy and finally succeeding, more or less, in creating what could be considered family life. It had been two months since she'd stopped drinking and taking pills. It hadn't been easy for her, Ringo was fully aware, and he had been doing his best to take over as much of her burden as he could. That was what he'd been doing for most of his adolescent life, after all.

But life is not an easy task to carry on. Usually before people can succeed at something, they must learn, and there is no other way than learning from mistakes. Their own, mostly. So building a new "family life" was a pain in the ass sometimes. Marion, due to her drying-out treatment, was oversensitive and hyperactive. Her life was a sequence of extreme turns: one second she could be the happiest person in the world and the next she fell into depression and obsessive fears Ringo couldn't break with his rational arguments. It was crucial to keep her mind and hands busy, because whenever they were left idle she had to fight her predilection for the bottle, and that got her exceptionally worked up.

Other normal reactions were there as well: she wanted to have everything done now. Immediately. Even the slightest failure or delay was demotivating, and she easily became impatient and angry. She would give up whatever she couldn't complete, only to go back to it a few minutes later and then drop it again.

And Ringo had to somehow deal with that merry-go-round of moods and behaviors. If not for his father, who had offered him a supporting shoulder, and Kayden, who always patiently listened to his outbursts of frustration, Ringo would have probably taken it all out on his mother. Sometimes he cursed her so terribly, said such things about her, that he couldn't even believe he had so much evil stored up in him. But as time flew by, he learned not to feel so very guilty for his spontaneous hatred, contempt, and grief. Finally he gave himself the right to be overwhelmed and weak, to be mean-minded and egocentric. He was only human, and he had come to accept that fact.

"Hey, Pop," he tossed out happily, seeing the well-known coat. This time, quite unusually, Mr. Alva hadn't brought his hat. "What happened to your hat? I hardly recognized you!"

Somehow Ringo managed to leave his grudge behind and opened up for a relationship with his father. Maybe it was since he'd heard some more or less "entertaining" stories about Kayden's dad that he suddenly found in himself the need to appreciate his own father and let him back into his life. Or maybe the Saturday meetings were of great help in his strained existence.

"Huh, it's a sad story, really. Jin sat on it." Jeremiah sighed, infinite sorrow written all over his face.

"My god, Dad, you look as if a member of your family died!" Ringo snorted.

His father cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed, and put on a bit lighter expression. "I see you're in a good mood, young man. Any special reason?"

"Well, not really." The boy shrugged. "It's just that...lately things have been going pretty well for me, so...."

"I'm happy to hear that. You can tell me everything as soon as we decide where to go. So?" Mr. Alva spread his hands, giving Ringo the choice.

"Um, maybe we could go to see a movie. Would you like to?"

"Well, I was thinking more of a place we could talk, actually. So what about a deal: I take you for lunch, and you take me to the cinema?"

"Deal." They shook each other's hand and Ringo followed his father. "So, Chinese, of course?" he jibed.

"Don't push your luck, boy!" Jeremiah knitted his brows in a pretended threat.

They found a small, cozy place, downtown but still out of the way. To the amusement of both men, the waitress was indeed of Chinese origin, although the restaurant served a variety of American and European food.

"So, what's up, son?" Mr. Alva asked with a smile when they both were seated comfortably, waiting for their food.

"After tomorrow we're going on a school trip. For a week. Kind of a study trip."

"Study trip," Jeremiah repeated, nodding thoughtfully. "So what’re you gonna do there?"

"You know—learn, play, hike." Ringo shrugged. "A week of fun, I guess."

"Sounds nice. Where?"

"Somewhere by the sea. I don't remember the name."

"Ah, the sea. A nice place to go."

"Yeah."

"Excuse me for being boring, but how're things at school, while we're on the subject?"

"Not bad. This guy I sit with, remember? He's pretty cool. I think we're friends. He helps me a lot. And I help him with his studies, as he's a dramatic lazybones. Mom's madly in love with him!" Ringo chuckled.

"That's rare," Jeremiah smiled. "How does he take it?"

"Pretty well. He says she's sweet. Well, probably 'cause he doesn't have to live with her and she's always an angel for him, but still...."

"And how's your mom? How's her therapy going?" Jeremiah nervously entwined his fingers, squeezing them tightly. As much as he felt obligated to ask and be up to date on Marion's situation, he felt uneasy talking about it.

"It helps. She tries, you know? She’s stopped drinking and she doesn't spend all days in bed watching TV. She even cooks! And she went to the hairdresser. You should see her, she looks really pretty now!" The boy's eyes glittered with merriment when he talked about his mother.

Jeremiah felt a sharp pain in his chest. He remembered that Marion was pretty. It was one of the very few good memories he’d kept from their life together. But he didn't want to see her again. Not yet. And probably it was best for her not to see him any time soon, either.

"She's awfully annoying sometimes," Ringo continued. He wanted to share his and his mother's small victories with his father. "She pesters me with stupid things. I have to tell her five times an hour that she looks young, and that I love her cooking, and that I appreciate everything she does. The doctor said that’s normal. She has to regain her self-confidence and it'll take some time. I just hope I'll make it." He sighed, resting his chin on his hands.

"Oh, I'm sure you will, Ringo. You're a brave man, and if there’s anything I can do to help you, I'll be more than happy to do it."

"Thanks, Dad. The most helpful thing for me would be to have my father at home." He said it very simply, without any intention of being malicious. It just slipped out.

"I—I know, Ringo," Jeremiah whispered, swallowing hard. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I—"

"Hey, leave it. That's okay. I understand." Ringo patted his father's hand. The truth was that he couldn't really understand all the things they’d made him go through, but what else could he say? "I said what I thought. But I’ve moved on, Dad. I know you can't go back now."

"Maybe...why don't you visit us sometime? Jin likes you, you know?" Mr. Alva wore that sad, apologetic expression of his. Ringo thought that was the face he remembered best. He didn't like it, though.

"I'm not so sure about that. He doesn't even know me." He twisted his lips doubtfully.

"I—well, I talk about you a lot." Jeremiah blushed. "And he wants an older brother."

Ringo felt an unpleasant prick of jealousy. He wanted a father, but that didn’t count, right? Now this brat wanted a brother, and he should be all happy to grant his wish?

"I don't know, Dad. I—he's okay, but—um—" He broke off. Suddenly it crossed his mind that having a place to go, "just in case"—although he didn't specify what case that might be—wasn't a bad idea. He shouldn't be so attached to just his home, with just his mother, without any escape. Maybe he could learn how a family worked this way. "I can come, I think. After the trip, 'key?"

"Of course!" Jeremiah's face lit up with a grin. "Call me when you're free."

"Sure."

"So you say things are getting better. I'm glad. I'm glad. So, you still have time to hang out with your friends after school?" Jeremiah changed the subject, not wanting Ringo to take only depressing impressions away from their meeting.

"Yeah, we have fun," Ringo answered, thinking mainly about Kayden and the crazy ideas they had come up with together. "Sometimes we ride a motorcycle. Have you ever tried it?"

"No. But you don't have a license, do you?"

"No, but Kayden has. And he's pretty good with motorbikes. He carries me on the back seat. I love it, Dad! I'll get a license as soon as I can. I’m even learning a bit, you know? Kayden’s teaching me. I think I'm not bad, either."

"This Kayden boy...I’ve never heard about him before." Mr. Alva raised his brows.

"Oh, I told you, Dad, he's new in our class. He’s repeating this year."

"Repeating a year..." Jeremiah said thoughtfully. "And you're sure he's the right kind of company for you?"

"C'mon, Dad." Ringo rolled his eyes. "He had his reasons. Besides, he studies now. I help him. And he's a good guy. Really. I told you, Mom loves him."

"Huh—I just asked, Ringo. I don't want you to get in trouble." Jeremiah made that face again, the one Ringo didn't like.

"I won't, Dad. I'm a big boy and Kayden is really okay. It's—sometimes things just click between people, you know? Oh, we have our birthdays on the same day! Cool, isn't it? So it's kinda like destiny. No, no, no—" he waved his hand at seeing his father's eyes grow round— "not like magic shit or anything! I’m just saying that, you know, sometimes you find people you understand well and they get you, too. I can't afford to lose that just because he has earrings and is repeating a year. Right?"

"Earrings? Huh. What else does he have or do that you might want to warn me about so I won’t react with shock if I see him someday?"

God, why did adults always have to cling to the least important details? Being a good friend—never mind. But an earring? Weeeell, that was a serious issue! "Nothing. He looks normal. Well, he has a tattoo on his arm."

"Earrings and tattoos. And a motorbike. And he smokes, from my experience." Jeremiah knitted his brows.

"So what if he does?" Ringo bristled. "He's an adult. Besides, many people smoke and you don't write them off because of it."

"Do you smoke?"

"What? No! I don't." Those few cigarettes smoked with Kayden didn’t make a smoker of him, did they?

"So why is this boy repeating a year? Would you mind telling me?"

"It's not your business, Dad. I can't share his private matters with everyone, right?"

"I'm not everyone. And I want to know who my son is hanging around with."

"Oh, suddenly you’re this caring father?" Ringo snapped angrily.

"Put on the brakes, Ringo!" Mr. Alva said firmly. "Yes, I'm trying to be a caring father."

"Ages too late!" Ringo shouted. He wanted to add something, but the waitress arrived just then with their lunch. So he gritted his teeth and fell quiet, concentrating on eating.

"Ringo," Jeremiah sighed, concerned. "I...you’re right. I'm just worried, okay? Don't be angry at me for being worried. I can't help it. I just don't want you to have problems."

"I have problems. I’ve had problems ever since I can remember. And I don't suppose Kayden can give me and Mom more problems than you did." However determined they were to heal their relationship, the wound was still there and it hurt.

"I get it. I give up," Jeremiah sighed and lowered his head.

They finished lunch in silence. The cinema, of course, was not an option any more.

"Call me when you get back from the trip, Ringo. And take care." Jeremiah shook his son's hand and followed him with his eyes to the street corner, his face thoughtful. To tell the truth, he had been a bit surprised at Ringo's reaction. Not about their family problems, but that suspicious boy, Kayden. Jeremiah Alva couldn't remember Ringo ever making such a fuss of anyone—and a delinquent with earrings and tattoos, no less. He hadn't said anything bad, after all, and Ringo had flared up as if defending U.S. independence. Actually, when Jeremiah thought about it, he came to the conclusion that he’d never heard about Ringo’s friends.

Something clicked, eh?

That was puzzling.

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Small things, small things... step by step...

So, what do you think?
What do you feel when you read it?
What do you expect?