re.
“Okay,” I say sadly.
“Good-bye, Bear.”
“Bye, Anna.”
Then she’s gone too.
I WALK into the house feeling heavy. Don’t get me wrong; I know I’ve done nothing but bring this on myself. Normally I’m not one to wallow in self-pity, but it’s something I haven’t been able to do for the last three years. It feels alien, foreign. Dark thoughts pitter-patter around my head, and I do little to push them away. Maybe I’m supposed to be like this. Maybe it’s what I deserve.
Blah, blah, blah.
Ty is sitting on the counter while Otter is telling him a story. The Kid doesn’t see me enter, but Otter does, and he glances at me quickly and winks. I smile vaguely and wait for him to finish.
“And so then,” Otter says, “that guy just came down and stands next to me in line at the bank. Now remember, I hadn’t been in California long at that point and didn’t know how people acted there. So, being the nice guy that I am, I say hi. But remember, I think he can’t hear me because he had headphones on and was rocking out to whatever he was listening to, right?”
“Right,” Ty says, rapt.
“So the line’s not moving, but I can feel the guy bopping his head behind me because he keeps getting closer and closer until he’s bumping into me. I try to ignore him, but he starts bumping into me harder and harder. So finally, I turn around to glare at him, and he stops rocking out and glares at me right back! And you know what I saw?”
“What!” Ty says excitedly.
“The headphones he was wearing,” Otter says, pausing dramatically, “weren’t attached to anything. No iPod, no Walkman, no nothing. He was just wearing the headphones! He notices me noticing this, and I try to keep a straight face, but he leans over to me and do you know what he said?”
Ty has his hands to his mouth, and I can hear him whisper, “What’d he say, Otter?”
Otter’s face suddenly morphs. He sticks his bottom jaw out and arches both eyebrows together and puffs out his cheeks. The change is startling, and I almost burst out laughing, ruining the story. Otter’s voice drops, and it comes out deep and gravely: “‘I don’t need no fancy music box, boy. I gots all the music I needs in my head. That’s where I got alllll the hits.’” I can’t keep it in anymore: my laughter brays out of me and echoes across the kitchen. Ty jerks and cranes his head and sees it’s me and rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to Otter. This cuts off my laughter immediately, as I’ve just been rebuked again by the Kid.
“People are weird in California, Otter,” he says seriously. “I’m glad you came back before you got weird too.”
Otter nods his head solemnly. “I’m glad too. Crazy Otters would never know how to make a vegetarian lasagna.” He ruffles the Kid’s hair, and Ty turns around to look at me.
“Otter said you were talking on the phone and that’s why you took forever.” Otter shrugs apologetically behind the Kid’s back. Ty stares at me quizzically. “Who were you talking to, Bear?”
I move toward the Kid and hoist myself up onto the countertop where he’s sitting. I put one arm around his shoulders and bring him into me, kissing the top of his head. “I was talking to Anna,” I say quietly.
He nods and looks at Otter. “Anna and Bear broke up again,” he says sadly. “It wasn’t like the other times, though. I think it was for real this time.”
Otter stands in front of the Kid and bends over, putting his hands on his knees. “No, I don’t think it was like the other times, either. But you know what Anna told me?” Ty looks up at him. “She told me that she loves you, and she isn’t going to go anywhere. Isn’t that right, Papa Bear?”
I glance at him gratefully before turning back to the Kid. “That’s right, Kid. Just because she and I aren’t dating anymore doesn’t mean you won’t see her again. She told me last night that she’s going to make sure she sees you as much as she can.”
“I’m not just sad about that,” the Kid says.
“Well, what else are you sad about?” Otter asks.
The Kid thinks for a moment, then says, “I’m sad for Bear. I don’t want him to be alone forever.” Once again, for what seems like the billionth time in the last few days, hot tears sting my eyes. Otter comes to my rescue.
“How can he be alone?” he exclaims. “He’s got you and me! I think that’s going to be just enough, don’t you?”
“I guess,” the Kid tells Otter. “But what happens when you go away again, Otter? Creed’s going back to school, and you’ll go back to California, and Anna… Anna will just be gone. Papa Bear will just have me, and I don’t know if I could do it on my own.”
I don’t respond, but this time on purpose. Yes, I’m choked up once again like a little fucking girl. I can’t honestly believe a person has as much liquid in their body as has forced its way out of me over the last two days. But the real reason I don’t say anything is because I, like the Kid, am waiting to hear what Otter is going to say. However selfish that is, I need to hear what he’s going to say.
Otter stands up straight, and I can feel him looking down at the two of us huddled in front of him, two lost children. I brace myself for whatever answer he’s going to give, hoping he’ll at least lie for Ty’s sake (and maybe for my own). He should never have this burden, but I’m tired of carrying it on my own.
“Ty,” Otter says finally, “I’m not going to go anywhere for a very long time. And if I do, well, then, maybe… maybe you and Bear can go with me.”