Page 48 of Always Crew

It was a birthday party.

Another house had a couple kids floating in their pool, tanning, and talking.

I could hear their conversation, but it was a low murmur. I could only pick out a word here and there. Another house had a woman, retired age working on the shrubbery by her house. Still another had an older lady relaxing, sitting at a table, and her head pointed upwards to the sun.

I sat, feeling something settling inside of me, and I just watched.

It was a minute later, maybe five, perhaps longer, until I moved to start eating. I’d fallen into some form of a trance, watching them, seeing their lives, their homes. The normalcy. They seemed content, almost every single one of them. I knew they weren’t, though. They couldn’t be. Lives were messy, lives weren’t perfect.

There were always deeper emotions. Feelings, thoughts that were under the surface, sometimes acknowledged and most often ignored. But those feelings, those thoughts were there, and they directed what was on the surface. People crying and not knowing why. People hurting others and not understanding what they’re doing. Words spoken, judgments passed. All of it was guided from what was sitting just under the surface, but observing these people, they were content.

On the surface.

And who knows, maybe that ran deep inside and they truly were in a good place.

But I was betting they weren’t. Who was, really?

But these people. The big houses. Retired. Just starting to live. Just starting adulthood. From the outlook, it looked as if they had everything they wanted, but so many never really felt that way. They always wanted more.

I sighed.

I was here. Why?

I was watching these people. Why?

I thought I’d been getting better. I thought I felt normal for the first time in a long time, even when I couldn’t remember the last time, but I was still here.

I was seeing a mom with children, wishing that were me. I was seeing a retired woman and wondering if she had kids. If she did, how many? Were her kids happy? Were they also content?

I still missed her.

I had to scoff at myself because I thought I was okay with it, not having my own mother. I missed her. I loved her, and I thought I had closure at losing her. Perhaps not? Was that why I was here again? Still looking for her, but knowing I couldn’t, so I sought out a replacement? Is that what this was?

If I couldn’t look for my own mother, then I was looking for other mothers?

Or maybe it was their homes?

I didn’t know. I just knew that I came here with a feeling in the middle of my chest, and it grew, and grew, and grew until I found this clearing, and now the feeling was spreading through me.

I was still not normal.

That was depressing.

I sighed, letting the sound carry from me as I reached for my drink. Lifting the bottle, I saluted the families that I was watching and tipped my head back.

Then I waited.

ZELLMAN

When you get a text from Bren with coordinates, you don’t question it. You show up.

I learned that lesson long ago, maybe in seventh grade. Bren was a chick who didn’t waste words. She didn’t need attention. She didn’t do anything that was extra. She was not a normal chick, and I knew, I’ve always known that I’d never meet someone like her. Ever.

So here I was.

Pulling up by her truck, her coordinates farther up, and I was sloshing my way through these woods.

That’s another thing about Bren. Trees. She liked ’em. Trees were her thing. That and spying on people. She and Cross didn’t think we knew, but we did. We knew about her ‘spot’ back in Roussou. Doesn’t take a fricking genius. It was overlooking her old house, and Bren was haunted by that. Like, literally. Ghost of her mom. Ghost of losing her brother, though, she got the righteous guy back, and then you know, the whole shit and caboodle thing with her dad. That’s a brain exploder if I ever heard of one, so I guess I wasn’t too surprised to find my crew member sitting in a ball, her knees pulled to her chest, her gaze staring out over some rich folks’ houses.

And they were rich.

Pools, shiite.

One day I was hoping to get a house like that. It’d be better than the trailer I grew up in, though I couldn’t gripe too much about it. My grandma and my older sister kept it cleaned. Outside the trailer might look like crap, but inside was nothing but class. Then again, that’s how my women folk rolled, Bren too.

“Yo.” I plopped down, settling in. The grass was lumpy, but I got comfy and glanced over.

Bren was watching me, the side of her head resting on her knees and she had a half-smile.

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