Dismantling Evan (19 page)

I turn around to acknowledge her.

She is looking at me, leaning her head against Asher’s arm playfully, but has a sobering expression. “What you did tonight...I know it was hard, but you did it and that means a lot to us. I just want you to know when I say thanks. I’m speaking for all of us.”

So this is what it feels like to have someone else’s back and be a friend. My heart fills and the weight of the ugliness that happened earlier disappears instantly.

Asher adds, “I knew you had a kick ass name for a reason Evan. Kick ass name for a kick ass girl.”

I laugh to myself; I can’t believe Asher just called me kick ass.

“Bye ya’ll,” I say, shyly, as I head up to my front door. It isn’t until I get inside I realize I just said ya’ll.

11:00 p.m.

12:00 a.m.

1:00 a.m.

Ugh! I can’t sleep.
I listen to a branch scrape against my front window as the wind blows it from side to side and I picture it swaying in the warm Texas breeze. I’m wondering when the weather will get cooler here, when Gavin’s stiff voice breaks through the void.

“‘Tis now the very witching time of night,

When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out...”
[4]

“Gavin, shhh,” Brody says in a low hiss. Upon hearing Brody’s voice, my heart leaps and a surge of energy gives me rise without a second thought.

I slip out of bed, put on my dingy white knit “wear around the house” sweater to disguise my lack of a bra at this hour, grab my flip flops, put my camera strap around my neck, and open my door enough to look out with one eye. I listen for Mom and Dad. The house is silent except for the wind howling through minuscule seams in the windows, door frames and the fireplace chimney.

Stealthily, I move downstairs and into the kitchen. Out the window over the sink the porch light is glowing from the Fergusons’ yard and Gavin’s distinct voice calls out again.

“Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood,

And do such bitter business as the day

Would quake to look on.”
[5]

His voice sounds strong, solid, confident. The words are definitely not Frodo Baggins’ from the Lord of the Rings. I open the back door, slip through and close it silently in one swift motion.

Immediately, the cool air whips and swirls my hair. The complete shift in temperature, from balmy and hot to crisp and somewhat chilled, makes me wish I had something warmer on my legs and feet. I slip on my flip flops and walk down the steps of the porch, tucking my hands into the sleeves of my sweater. The only light is the one reflecting from Brody and Gavin’s porch. The moon is hidden behind heavy, dark, cotton ball clouds blanketed overhead. The wind picks up again, sending me in motion toward the fence.

The chain links of the chrome toned fence shine, absorbing the porch light of all it offers. I squat down to be at the perfect angle of light, contrast, and balance to snap the picture of the diamond shaped links glowing among the creeping green vines that have taken up residence on the fence.

“What are you doing?” Brody’s voice catches me off guard as he hovers above me on the other side of the fence. Ungracefully, I topple backward onto my butt;
Nice Evan.

I scramble to my feet feeling the hot embarrassment of falling wash over me. I look at him only for a second, then down at the fence as I point to it like I am blaming it for my clumsiness. “I was taking a picture of the fence.”

Brody’s eyebrows rise. “A picture of the fence? Why?”

His know-it-all tone does nothing to ease my embarrassment. I mumble as I fold my arms over my chest protectively. “Contrast of the chrome on the fence, just... never mind.”

Gavin steps up to the fence next to Brody. “What are you doin’ Evan?” He asks inquisitively with a smile.

Looking between them now, I recognize how they are brothers. The shapes of their faces are almost identical even if their size and form over all vary so greatly. Brody is broad and muscular while Gavin is slim and well, not muscular at all. Suddenly, they both smile and I see even more similarities in their toothy grins.

Brody asks me again, expecting an answer. “Yeah, what are you doing out here?”

I think over why I am standing here. Telling them I am out here because I heard their voices and want to hang out is the last thing I want to say even though after tonight, Brody holding my hand, talking to me, sitting on his lap... all I want to do is hang out with him. I mean, that would sound so desperate if I said it out loud and even if I am desperate, I don’t want to throw it out there. I think it through then clear my throat. “Um, I was just up you know and I heard the wind.”

I nudge my camera with my hand still buried in my sweater sleeve. “I thought I would take some night shots, when I heard Gavin’s voice.”

Looking at Gavin now I ask, “Was that Hamlet?”

Gavin holds the fence with his hands and leans his body back playfully, smiles bashfully and nods.

“Sorry about that,” Brody says, shaking his head. “I tried to quiet him down.”

I don’t want an apology. “No, it’s all right. I wasn’t going to sleep yet.”

“Can’t sleep?” Brody asks.

I shake my head and pull the flowing strands of hair from my face, holding them down against my neck until the breeze slows again.

Brody looks at Gavin, hanging on the fence, then spins around into the yard carefree. “Yeah, neither can we,” Brody says scoffing a little just as he runs his hand through his messy hair. He is still wearing the same jeans and shirt he had on earlier tonight. That one thought has me thinking about what happened earlier; the BBQ, the car ride, sitting on his lap, him taking my hand in his at the DQ, Spencer’s crass words, Celine’s attitude, and everything else that went down. Mostly I think about why Brody held my hand. Was it some kind of protective thing?

“Why did you hold my hand tonight?”
Oh shit! I just said that out loud!

I hold my breath, frozen in his gaze, expecting him to... to... I don’t know what... explode maybe?
Damn, he makes me nervous sometimes.

Brody looks down and kicks the bottom link of the fence, making a funny jangling sound as the chrome meets chrome. “I knew Spencer would start shit. I just didn’t want you to be left... vulnerable.”

“Protecting me like you watch over Gavin?”
Oh Evan, just shut up and let him talk!

His warm, hazel eyes land on me; the weight of them is strong, but at the same time I love the feeling his look gives me. “Kind of like that,” he says softly.

Is he protecting me like Gavin or is it something else? It feels like something else and God I hope it is, but I’m not sure.

“I guess I wanted to let Celine and Spence know I wouldn’t let them hurt you.” Brody leans his head back, the wind rustles his copper brown hair. “That didn’t work out to well though. Spencer was still a dick.”

“Yeah,” I nod my head and clutch my arms around my body.

“Why did you hold my hand tighter?” Brody asks.

My heart skips a beat. “What? I didn’t...”

His grin is slight, but enough to make his eyes light up a little as he slowly nods. “Yes, you did.”

“I just tightened...” I try to explain.

“Ah, Ah! See you did,” his grin widens as he lets out a triumphant laugh.

His smile is contagious; I catch it. I shake my head and look down, coyly. It doesn’t stop me from trying to explain though. “I didn’t want you to make a move on Spencer. The only way I could think of keeping you from a fight, was to hold your hand tighter.”

Brody’s head bobs up and down. “So you were protecting me?”

I answer quickly, giving him a taste of his own medicine with the vague answer, “Yeah, kind of.”

His grin softens and becomes smaller yet still visible.
God, he is super cute when he does that with his lips.

Lips.
Watching his lips makes me think of sitting on his lap in the back of the Jeep.
How close we were, feeling the heat of his body near me, the heat of his breath on me. UGH!

I so don’t need to be thinking about this now! Brody watches me carefully as I shift nervously from one foot to the other and tighten my arms closer to my body. Thank God for the lack of light from the porch, or he would definitely see me all shades of red. I raise my chin toward Gavin spinning into the middle of the yard and say distractingly to Brody. “So, Gavin really likes Shakespeare.”

“Yeah, that and the Lord of the Rings books,” Brody says smiling and looking out into the yard as Gavin stops spinning and begins walking a wide lined circle in the center of their yard.

I am hypnotized by his grin, but the spell is broken when he looks back at me. I look back at Gavin. “Hearing his voice, the confidence he has in what he is saying, the words, he is brilliant.”

Brody folds his hands across his body and watches Gavin again. His smile falters a little and a seriousness falls over his once playful lips. “Yeah, brilliantly unstable.”

His words are sad and I want to ask why he would say that, but I remember who I’m talking to and try and be tactful. “Brilliantly unstable?”

He looks back at me just long enough to catch my eye, then focuses back on Gavin. “He is a genius when it comes to math, English, all the subjects really, but the things he does and says... the way he reacts to things like touch, sound... anything can set him off. He is unpredictable and if I’m not there...” Brody doesn’t finish his comment as he closes his eyes, visibly marred by this concern, worrying about his brother’s instability and what could result if he is left alone, unprotected. “It’s just... Gavin can be erratic sometimes.”

Erratic sounds harsh and looking at Gavin now, I don’t see the harshness at all. Brody and I watch Gavin for a few moments as he walks circles and mumbles something to himself; maybe another Shakespearean excerpt.

“Want to come over?”

Brody’s question eases the anxiety that has been building inside of me. I wasn’t sure how my coming out here would be received by him or Gavin, but his relaxed stance and his hands pushed deep into his pockets as he rocks back on the heels of his black work boots, I’m not so intimidated. I smile and nod. “Yes.”

The wind continues to whip the trees surrounding their backyard, turning the leaves inside out then releasing them from the push and pull; it is rhythmic and soothing. Maybe that’s why Gavin is walking so calmly around in wide circles among in the middle of them; they are soothing.

“Why does he walk in circles?”
The questions just keep popping out.

I expect Brody to clam up and I keep my eyes trained on Gavin to avoid the burning glare that most definitely should be aimed at me now.

“I think it calms him; the repetition of it.” Brody’s answer is a relief, knowing I haven’t crossed the protective boundary around Gavin.

“Oh,” I say as I look at him and smile lightly. I think I see the corner of Brody’s mouth curl up, but it could be a shadow cast by the porch light. Having his attention on me now, I want to ask him about Gavin. I hear the words in my head and feel them on my tongue.

Don’t ask him anything else Evan. You are just going to make him clam up again!

I focus on the yard and at Gavin walking circles, even though I’m not really watching; I’m thinking about why Gavin acts like he does. He looks normal, I mean he doesn’t appear to have any physical traits of someone mentally challenged: Okay, that sounds completely stereotypical and I am terrible for thinking it. I mean, who am I to talk. I have a mental illness, so says Dr. Larson, and I don’t have any visible defects to highlight my apparent depressive state. Yet it is the first thing I think of when I consider someone as mentally challenged as Gavin. Looking at him you really wouldn’t know it, other than the strange way he carries himself when he walks.

Gavin’s walking slows significantly, but his skinny, lanky form is still holding the rigidity that I have coined as Gavin’s walk. Even if his face was covered and he was donning baggy clothes, I could still pick Gavin out of a crowd simply by his rigid, unique walk. He isn’t swaying as he walks like he has done at school or earlier tonight though.

“There have been many diagnosis over the years. When he was an infant, he had seizures... some were really bad, sending him to the hospital. I remember going over to Asher’s house and staying the night a few times during his episodes.”

I am both frozen and breathless from Brody’s sudden disclosure, but I don’t dare say anything since it might make him stop and I want to know more.

“Asher, Lia, Nikki, we all knew Gav was different as we grew up. We just didn’t say anything about it. When we started school, it wasn’t too bad. He had a lot of help. A teacher assistant was assigned to him because of the seizures which seemed to be slowing now he was taking medication for them.”

I listen with bated breath.

“Each year, first, second, third, he didn’t seem to be advancing... socially. My parents continued to seek help to find out what was going on with Gav. Attention deficit, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, depression, possible bipolar, even though they don’t diagnose kids as young as fourth grade with it. By fifth grade, he was on so many different medications, Mom and Dad kept them locked in one of the kitchen cabinets away from us.”