Listen To Me Page 8
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Morning After
The solid white chamber lay undisturbed for several moments before it’s dimmed by shadows. A loud heave resounds within its cavity and putrescent odors permeate the sterile air. The bowels of the chamber grumble angrily as floods of water rush in, aggressively attacking the vile intruders plummeting like liquid bombs. Swirling water sloshes fiercely against the porcelain walls as it spirals into a dark, dismal abyss. The chamber growls a final time before the water calms and abates.
Max hopes this is the last one. His head still feels like there’s a gaping hole in the back of it, and his stomach feels like it has turned inside out. The familiar jerking of his abdominal muscles tells him he’s not finished yet. Max begins to swear, but can’t finish because of the bile in his throat. It builds to the highest point and rushes violently from his mouth.
He spasms uncontrollably as his abdomen contracts, each thrust causing his head to pulsate in pain. His throat is beginning to feel sore and scratchy. Dizziness washes over him, and he holds onto the sides of the commode to steady himself. He moans in pain, hoping his parents can’t hear him. A knock on the bathroom door indicates that one of them has.
“Max, are you okay, sweetie?” his mother asks with concern.
“I’m fine,” he rasps. “Just something I ate probably. Bad Chinese or something.”
His mother walks in and places her hand on his back. Max flinches, partly because he can’t stand for his mother to touch him, and partly because his body is extremely sensitive. His mother tries to soothe him. “Baby, are you sure-”
“Mom, I’m fine!” Max shrieks. “Leave me alone!” A string of profanities follow and Mrs. Shaw places her hand over her mouth in shock. Her eyes become moist and she sighs heavily. “Max,” she whispers. “What’s happened to you?”
Max closes his eyes. The dizziness has returned, and his mother is irritating him. “Mom, just go away,” he says calmly, so as not to set off the pain in his head.
“Oh, Jesus,” his mother prays in quiet sobs. “Help my son.”
“Jesus can’t help me, mom,” Max spews. “And neither can you. So leave me alone.” Max’s stomach finally stops contracting and he straightens himself slowly.
“Max,” his mother begins to reach for his arm, but Max puts his hand up, blocking her from grabbing him. He brushes past her and walks toward his bedroom. He can hear his mother crying, but he refuses to turn around. He goes back to his bed, hoping to find relief there for his aching head. He’s pretty sure he won’t throw up anymore, but he still has to go to school in the morning. Max lands hard on his pillow. He swears as lightning streaks dance across his eyes and pain shoots through the back of his head. Max closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Moments later, he is asleep.
†††
Martin yawns and stretches. He went to bed far too late the night before, and now he is paying for it. He spent most of the night talking to Jennifer, who always made it her business to inform him of everything that went on with everyone.
Martin smiles. A lot of guys he knows couldn’t handle Jennifer’s gift of gab, but Martin likes it. He isn’t big on conversation, but she talks enough for the both of them. Martin walks to his closet, recalling to his mind their conversation. She talked about her new clothes, church, the youth, and her favorite subject: everything.
She has such a pretty smile, Martin thinks. Whenever they talk on the phone, Martin pictures her in his mind. Her hands always move a certain way when she is excited about what she is talking about, and when she smiles, she doesn’t hold back. Her teeth are never hidden but constantly radiate with an angelic glow. Martin noticed only recently that she has a slight dimple on the left side of her mouth.
He wonders why he never noticed her before. Martin is interested in girls, but between his parents’ strict rules and his rigorous basketball schedule, Martin rarely pursues romantic relationships. His friend Max has a new girlfriend just about every month, but Martin can’t recall ever having one, at least not a real one. His parents would blow a gasket if he ever tried to bring a girl to the house.
Martin scans his closet and finally settles on a pair of blue jeans and a horizontally striped shirt. He walks over to his drawer and pulls out everything he needs. What was it Jennifer had said about Max? She had mentioned that he got into trouble over the weekend. She wasn’t sure why, but whatever happened resulted in his now having a probation officer. Martin didn’t see Max at school the day before, and he wonders what may have happened. He makes up his mind to find out today if Max is at school. He says a quick prayer on behalf of his friend, and finishes getting ready.
†††
Max wakes abruptly to the sound of his alarm clock. He sits up slowly, cussing profusely at the clock’s invasion of his sleep. His mother didn’t make him go to school Monday, but he has to go today. He will have to meet with Officer Kent again this evening; he said it would be a “real” session. He also has more paperwork to fill out for the mandatory court appearing he has to attend on Thursday. He scratches the back of his head and yawns. His breath smells awful, despite the rinsing he’d done the night before. Max slept the entire day Monday and finished off the brandy while his parents slept last night. He still feels a little cloudy, but his head doesn’t hurt. Max gathers himself together enough to make it to the shower.
†††
Max makes a silent vow to be as horrible to his mother as he possibly can. On the way to school, she asks him several times if he is okay, but Max intentionally ignores her. She had almost given in when he asked to stay home, but his father had accused her of babying him.
She always gives in to his father, and Max is going to make her pay for it. He rolls his eyes at her comments and clears his throat loudly whenever she begins speaking to him. As soon as the car stops in front of the school, he gets out, walking away quickly as his mother tries to tell him something. He is greeted by several of his friends; most of them already heard about what happened to him. None of them called.
“Hey Shaw, what’s up?” one of them asks.
“Nothing,” he replies. “Just doing what I do best, I guess.”
“Max!” he hears a familiar voice screech from across the campus.
“Oh, no,” Max groans. He forgot about his girlfriend over the weekend. She was really starting to get on his nerves, and he had planned on breaking up with her Saturday.
She walks towards him, a mixture of concern and disappointment playing on her face. He knows she’ll probably lecture him. Sometimes she reminds him of his mom. That’s part of the reason why he wants to break up with her.
“Max,” Shelly whines. “What happened to you?”
Max rolls his eyes at her. “I was in a car accident, Shelly.”
“I know that,” she looks at him quizzically. “But we were supposed to go out this weekend.”
Is she for real? Max thinks to himself. “Yeah, it kind of slipped my mind, Shelly.” He adds sarcastically, “Maybe it was my concussion. Or it could have been the pain meds they gave me.”
“You could have called me,” Shelly chides him. “I was worried about you, and I had to find out from my best friend whose brother in law has a cousin who works at the hospital that you’d been in a wreck. That’s no way to find out your boyfriend’s been hurt.”
Max looks at her, incredulous. “I-was-in-a-wreck,” he says the words slowly, as if she is a preschooler.
Shelly glowers at him fiercely, placing one hand on her hip and waving another in his face. “I’m not an idiot, Max!” she snaps. “I know you were in a wreck, but I’m your girlfriend and I have a right to a phone call or something.”
Max shakes his head and sighs. “Why didn’t you call me, then?”
Shelly looks at him as if he’s just grown a tail. “What would I look like calling you like some little puppy dog, Max? I am not going to let some guy play me like that.” She rolls her neck as she says it. Max wonders what in the world ever made her
attractive to him.
“You’re an idiot, Shelly,” he says plainly and walks away. Shelly’s jaw drops open and her eyes grow wide in disbelief. Max resists the urge to humiliate her further and heads to class. Much to his chagrin, Martin catches him in the hallway.
“Hey Max, how are you?” Martin asks.
“I’m fine,” Max replies flatly. “What do you want, Martin?”
Martin hesitates. He searches for words; his eyes barely make contact with Max’s. “Jennifer told me you got into some trouble over the weekend. I didn’t see you yesterday, so I wanted to make sure everything is okay.” He looks over the small cuts on Max’s face with concern.
Max puts down his book bag and stares at Martin. “You know what? Everything’s not okay, Martin, but I think things will be a whole lot better when people like you, and my parents, and everyone else stop getting in my face and just leave me alone!” Max takes a step towards Martin and stands nose to nose with him.
“I am sick and tired of everybody trying to tell me what my problems are. I’m especially tired of people like you who call yourself Christians trying to tell me that Jesus is the answer! Jesus can’t help me! I really can’t see how you’ve got the nerve to even come to me after all the things we’ve been through, Martin. If Jesus knew half of what I know about you, I doubt he’d be so forgiving.”
Martin winces at the reminder.
“You seem to have forgotten just how long I’ve known you,” Max continues. “I’ve been there for all of it, Martin. I can’t count how many times I’ve lied to cover for you when it might put me in a bad spot. Did you tell God about all that? Did you go confess your sins to your Mommy and Daddy and swear to be a good little Christian boy from now on? How about Jennifer, your new Christian buddy? Does she know about your dirty work?”
Martin’s palms begin to sweat, and he looks away, embarrassed. “Max, this is not the place to discuss that.”
“Oh, I see.” Max puts his hand on his chin. “But it’s okay to discuss all the stuff that’s wrong with me, is that what you’re saying? How about I discuss it with your new buddy? I mean, since she’s taken my place it’s her right to know everything about you that I know.”
Martin’s temper begins to rise, and he clenches his fists. “Be careful, Max,” he warns.
Max, recognizing Martin’s anger, begins to back down. “That preacher really worked you over, Martin,” he says, shaking his head. “But not even Jesus can stop you from being your old self, can he?”
Martin realizes that he is beginning to lose control and tells himself to calm down. This isn’t about him and his past. If he’s going to help Max, getting angry won’t help. He remembers what Jennifer suggested and tries a calmer approach.
“Max,” Martin says quietly. “I don’t want to talk to you to judge you. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he says sincerely.
“The offer still stands about Wednesday night. We’ve been through a lot together, and I’m sorry for all the things I’ve done that might be keeping you from thinking I’m sincere in my faith. I’m not perfect, Max, but that’s no excuse for the things I’ve done. If I could do it over again I would. But I can’t change the past. All I can do is live the rest of my life in a way that’s pleasing to God. Don’t let my mistakes be the only reason you don’t believe in Jesus, Max. I was never that good a friend.”
“Don’t worry, you’re not the only reason,” Max replies bitterly. His expression shifts and Max softens his tone.
“I wish things could be like they were before,” Max sighs. “You’re my friend, and I’ve always got your back.” Max pauses as the first bell for class rings, then continues. “You know, that night with Johnny? I felt bad for leaving you. I don’t know what happened. I just got scared. I told myself a million times to turn around and either help you or try to talk you out of it, and I know as a friend I let you down. I’m sorry.”
Martin stares at Max, surprised.
“Max, you did the right thing,” Martin assures him. “I was the one who was wrong. You were right to leave. If you had been there with me, I may have actually gone through with it.”
“Well, what happened, man?” Max asks.
Martin shakes his head. “I don’t know, Max. I was thinking crazy thoughts. I thank God he stopped me, and he gave me a second chance.”
Max starts to respond, but stops as he sees Shelly walking towards them. He picks up his book bag quickly and begins walking in the other direction.
“I gotta go, Martin,” he says, pointing his head in Shelly’s direction. Martin looks and nods knowingly. Martin heads to class, his head raised a little higher knowing he’s made some progress.