AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Neither of us spoke. Not even when his arms wrapped around my waist and he hugged me from behind. Both of us drew in jagged breaths, exhaling the words we weren’t saying.
In the end, it was Jude who pulled away. His hands slipped from my waist, and then his heavy footsteps moved slowly to the door, pausing for a moment before he opened it and walked out.
I stayed in my room for a few more minutes, not letting one single tear slip past. If I started, I wouldn’t stop, and now wasn’t the time.
Once I caught my breath, I braved leaving my room. Downstairs, a full spread of food was laid out, and various cousins and aunts and uncles were huddled around picture albums, laughing and cooing over adorable pictures of baby Ben.
Aviva found me slathering cream cheese on an everything bagel I had no intention of eating.
“When you have your food, come into the living room. I have a treat to show you.”
I gave her one of the smiles I stored up in my reserves solely for this occasion. “Really? I’m intrigued.”
With a glass of wine—I wasn’t ashamed to say I needed alcohol to get through this day—and my plate of food, I followed her into the living room where Jude was sitting with Ben’s dad, Ronnie. I sat on the loveseat opposite them, abandoning my plate on the coffee table, but clutching my glass like a lifeline.
Aviva turned on the TV and DVD player. “You haven’t seen this, Tali, but I’ve watched it a thousand times. I wanted to send you a copy, but technology and I are not friends, so I never figured out how.”
On the screen, a pixelated picture appeared, and a chiming sound I’d never forget came from the speakers.
After a moment, the picture cleared, and there I was—or at least, the me I was four years ago—sitting on the floor, my Gamelan instrument in front of me. I had played something like a xylophone, while Ben had been on the gongs. And he was on the screen, smiling as he said something to me the microphone hadn’t picked up.
“He was calling me teacher’s pet. He always said I was our teacher’s favorite, which I kind of think was true,” I said.
Aviva laughed, wiping her eyes with a tissue. “Thank you for telling me. I’d always wondered what he was saying.”
I saw my shaky smile, then full-on laugh when he made a face at me. “He knew how nervous I was, so he was trying to distract me.”
The camera panned the audience, stopping on Tino and Nina, who waved wildly and said, “We love you, Tali and Ben!” Then, it swept to Jude, who leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, watching me so intently, he didn’t even notice the camera until Aviva told him to say a message for me and Ben. Jude smiled and looked directly at the camera. His face was so crisp and clear on the screen, I had this image of me jumping through it so I could be back there, with the man I fell in love with. But that Jude was gone. Ben was gone too. None of us were the same as we were that day.
“Ben, you rock, my man. And, Tali Stripes, I love you forever, teacher’s pet or not.”
That was his message four years ago. It was hard hearing it now, knowing it was a lie. But like life, the video played on, and we got to sit through thirty minutes of us novices attempting to play our instruments.
Seeing Ben like that, so full of life, with a huge smile on his face, was surreal. Knowing a year after this video was taken, he’d be dead, was nearly impossible to believe. It broke my heart all over again.
Ben and I had been really good friends. This was before his addiction had taken hold. Looking back, I saw it so clearly, the line of demarcation. The Ben on the video was the one who got high on the weekends, who maybe drank a little too much, but didn’t we all back then? He was fun, lively, liked to dance and work with kids. The Ben he slid into had withdrawn, burrowing into Tino’s house, only really talking to the two of us. He still went to class, still did his student teaching, but when he was home, he was slower, quieter. His smiles took longer to appear. He’d get pissed over silly things, then apologize profusely, like the world was ending, the next day.
Watching us play on the screen, Ben biting his lip as he concentrated on getting the timing of his gongs just right, I thought of a thousand things I could have done differently. How I could have saved him. It wasn’t that I hadn’t known he was on something. But I guess I’d been so young, so naive, I hadn’t even stopped to think he might have been an addict. To me, an addict was someone with track marks up and down their arms you couldn’t trust around your purse. They weren’t the sweet guy who worked with kids and always paid his rent on time.
Like I said, I’d been naive. Ben had been an addict just as sure as the guy squatting in the abandoned house, cooking heroin.
Losing him had changed me indelibly. It had changed every single person in this room, none for the better, at least one for the worse.
“He was terrible at this, wasn’t he?” Ronnie asked.
I laughed, wiping away a stray tear. “He was. But we had so much fun. When I first signed up for that class, I dreaded it, but it became my favorite part of the week.”
Aviva nodded. “Ben’s too. He always had a Tali story when we talked on Sundays.”
I smiled at that. “I talk to my parents every Sunday too.” But Bentalkedto his parents on Sundays. Past tense. This was all they had of him now. All any of us had.
My solo started on the video. The camera was directed at me, but now, my attention was on Ben. He never took his eyes off me, and in his eyes, I saw his deep affection for me, but also a hint of longing.
I’d never seen it. Sure, we’d flirted in the beginning, but my longing had been reserved solely for Jude. I hadn’t had eyes for anyone else. I wouldn’t have chosen differently had Ben confessed his feelings earlier, but maybe I wouldn’t have disregarded them like they were an inconvenience. It was impossible to know now. I’d never have answers, only more questions.
When it all ended and relatives began to trickle out, I snuck a bottle of wine and went outside to sit by the pool. I needed to breathe without sucking in jagged memories. Dunking my feet in the cool water and swallowing the cold wine worked toward softening some of my sharp edges.
“Saw a firefly. Must be summer.”
