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“You want to know what happened? Chase asked me to go with him to California. I said I’d think about it. The next day, my mom knocked on my door, after being gone for eight years, and completely caught me off guard. I left for California several days later, got a job as a bartender, and started drinking a lot. I told myself I would stop, but I couldn’t. So, I left.” I shrugged. “The end.”
“You want to know what I just heard?”
“No, but you’re going to tell me anyway.”
“You were unsure about going to California with your rock star boyfriend, but your mom came back into your life and threw you for a loop. So, you ran to get away from her. Once you got to California, your feelings caught up with you – and you ran from them, again. You tried numbing your pain with alcohol, but my guess is Chase caught on, and wasn’t happy about it – and what did you do? Ran from that problem, too. All that running. How is that working out for you?”
“Do you think I should have remained in California? I’d probably be a full-blown alcoholic by now. I had to get out of there.”
“Don’t you see what the root of all your problems are? The one thing that connects everything in your life?”
“It’s my mother. I told you – she ruined everything!”
“You’re right. It is your mother. She is the root where all of the issues you’ve created stem from. So, what are you going to do about it?”
I rolled my eyes. “If you’re going to tell me to talk to her, you can just save it. I have no interest in talking to her. Ever.”
T.J. set his sandwich down on his plate. “Your attitude is doing nothing for you. You’re only going to continue to spiral downward if you don’t stop this unhealthy pattern you’ve created. You have to be ready to stand up and say that you’ve had enough. If you’re not ready to change, then there’s nothing I can do for you.”
“You know what?” I rummaged in my purse for my wallet, and tossed a five dollar bill onto the table. “I have had enough. I’ve had enough of your interrogation and your verbal abuse. Enjoy the rest of your sandwich.” I slid out of the booth, and stormed out the door.
I had made it back to my car before T.J. ran out into the parking lot. I was just about to back out of the spot when my passenger door opened.
“Get out of my car, please.”
T.J. swung the door closed, and fastened his seatbelt. “I’m going to show you something. Drive.”
I hesitated. “I’m tired, T.J. I just want to go home.”
“We won’t be out long. I promise.”
“Where are we going?”
“Take Arthur Kill Road, and I’ll tell you when to turn off.”
I exhaled, and reluctantly followed his directions. I drove in silence, growing more curious with every turn I made.
“Pull in here.” T.J. pointed to the parking lot on my left.
“Uh, that’s a prison.”
“Kill the engine. I’m going to tell you something.”
Without the headlights from my car, the former correctional facility looked eerie in the darkness. Now closed down, the abandoned building was surrounded by nothing but barbed wire and trees.
T.J. removed his hat, and pointed to the scar above his left eyebrow. “You see this? This was from my dad. I was twelve.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Was he a fighter, too?”
“No. He was a drunk. He beat the shit out of my mom whenever he had too much to drink. He got me good a few times, too. He drank, and he turned into a different person – not that he was so great when he was sober. I was five when I saw him hit my mom for the first time. Needless to say, I had a lot of fear, and a lot of anger growing up.”
“Why did your mom stay?”
“That was the choice she made. She didn’t feel like she could get away from him. She didn’t think she could make ends meet without him. There’s a laundry list of all the excuses she told herself.”
I chewed my lip before asking my next question. “Why are we here?”
“My dad used to be in there, before they closed down and transported all the prisoners upstate.” He looked out the windshield as he spoke, and his eyes glazed over as if he was somewhere else. “I was trying to get him off of her one night. He was beating on her real bad. I was a scrawny twelve-year old. I punched him in the back a few times, but he elbowed me in the head,” he recalled, rubbing his scar. “I was knocked out for a few minutes. When I came to, he was holding my mom up against the wall by her throat, and there was nothing I could do. Her feet twitched, and then they just… dangled. I watched him choke the life right out of her.”
