The Gus Diaries

Part 93

The Smoker II
 

I was having an amazing dream. Jeff had called, saying that college orientation was boring, and he wanted me to come spend the night with him because he was all alone. I started knocking on the door and heard him yelling, “I’ll be right there.” That’s when I started to feel kind of nauseous.

It turned out I wasn’t the one knocking. It was the door to Matt’s house, and he was the one telling the demanding intruder he’d be right there.

My head was pounding with each knock, and I looked at my phone to check the time and realized it was 5:00 AM... and there were four voicemails. “Shit!”

All four voicemails were from Pop’s phone. The first one began in Pop’s soft, calm, even voice. “Gus, your dad and I are getting a little worried. We just looked at the clock and it’s midnight. Give us a quick call back just to let us know if you’ll be staying at Matt’s house overnight.”

The next three voicemails got progressively more desperate. By the last one Pop’s voice had a hard, angry edge to it. It’s a sound I hardly ever hear.

I knew I fucked up big time when the voice at the door became clearer. It was Dad.

I heard Matt grumbling as he ushered Dad into the house. “Huh, what time is it?”

“Although it’s dark out, I believe the appropriate greeting for this time of day is good morning.”

“Sorry, Mr. Kinney. I guess Gus and I lost track of the time.”

“Losing track of time happened about three hours back. Since then Gus has been AWOL.”

I forced myself off the sofa and met up with Dad in the front hallway. There was no chance I was going to bullshit my way out of this one. “Hi, Dad.”

“At least you know how to greet a person, although it’s quite clear that you forgot how to use the telephone.” Dad’s tone was dripping with sarcasm, but I had no intention of pointing it out.

“I guess I fell asleep.” I lowered my head and brushed my hand through my hair. “I’m really sorry, it’ll never happen again.”

Dad walked farther into the house. “So, what did you boys do last night?”

Matt glared at me, his eyes opening wide, and I could see the whites of his eyes were totally reddened.

I tried to nod subtly to indicate I understood his unspoken message. “We watched some old movie about college kids and ate pizza.”

Dad continued through the front foyer. There was an acrid, lingering aroma of pizza and pot. He followed the scent to Matt’s den with the two of us close behind.

“Smells lovely down here, boys. Gives a new meaning to air fresheners.” Dad moved around the room, picking up beer bottles and immediately putting them down as if they burned his fingers. He then approached the ashtray. Picking it up, he brought it close to his nose. Before it ever passed his chin, he raised an eyebrow and stared at me.

“Now I understand how you got so absorbed in the movie so as not to remember to call Justin or me and let us know you were still alive.”

“Uhm, Dad...” I felt like I had lost all ability to communicate.

“Look, Mr. Kinney, I can explain.” Matt started to bite one of his fingernails.

“I’m sure you can, but I hardly think that’s necessary.” Dad placed the ashtray back on the coffee table and, without looking at me once, stated evenly, “Gus, it’s time to go.”

“Bye, Matt, and uh, thank you.”

“Well, Sonny Boy, at least you still have a modicum of courtesy left for someone.” Dad walked to the front door, and I followed behind sheepishly. I had wanted to stay and help Matt clean up, but I thought better of it and was pretty sure he’d understand why I left him with the mess.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 

The car ride home was filled with an uncomfortable silence. Dad didn’t say a word and never even glanced my way. I felt like crap. My head hurt, my stomach ached, and I had a lousy taste in my mouth.

As we entered the street where Britin stood, I had to break the looming silence. “Listen, Dad, I’m really sorry. I know I should have--”

“Don’t say a word.” Dad continued to drive never looking at me.

“But, Dad...”

“Don’t... just don’t.”

I could tell he was deadly serious. I don’t remember him ever being this angry at me, and I was trying like hell to figure out why. I’m sure he’s spent many nights drunk, high, or both.

After parking the car in the garage, we walked through the entrance leading directly into the kitchen. Pop was sitting at the table, nursing a cup of coffee. His hair was a mess. Normally, I would chalk it up to the bed-head he gets when he and Dad have had a wild night, but I had a pretty good idea that sex had nothing to do with his disheveled look.

“Hi, Pop.” I offered a half-hearted wave and he rose from the table. He grabbed me and gave me a hug that would leave Grandma Deb envious of its vigor.

He then took a step back, the warm greeting all but forgotten. “Why the fuck didn’t you call us -- or answer any of my calls? I did make one every hour starting at midnight.” Pop began pacing in front of me. My nausea returning, I had the dreadful feeling this wasn’t going to be a quick apology session.

“I’m so sorry.” I started letting my mouth get ahead of me, forgetting what Dad had found when he picked me up. “Matt and I were watching this hilarious old movie, and we were eating a shit load of pizza and fell asleep. I didn’t even hear the phone. I guess I was really exhausted.”

Pop looked me in the eyes, and then he turned his attention to Dad who was still wearing his light jacket. “Brian?”

At first I couldn’t figure out why he was questioning Dad, and then I remembered Matt’s telltale red eyes and realized mine must appear the same. Fuck! Even I know when you smoke pot your eyes look more bloodshot than they should.

Dad nodded as he removed the jacket and tossed it onto a chair. “Yes, Sunshine, our typically responsible son has opened up a whole new world for himself. He learned the fine art of drinking underage and smoking illegal substances until he passed out.”

Pop combed his fingers through his mop of hair and started to pace. As he approached the kitchen work island, he banged his fist on the marble top. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

Dad wrapped his arms around Pop from behind and leaned down as if whispering in his ear, but he spoke clearly enough for me to hear. “That would assume he was thinking at all.” Dad kissed him on the cheek and moved away before Pop could swat him.

“It’s obvious he wasn’t thinking.” The pacing started again, and I was beginning to feel seasick watching Pop. “Is this what we have to expect whenever you’re not with Jeff? Not only did you abuse your body, you didn’t give your father or me any indication that you were still alive, despite your promise to call if you weren’t coming home!”

“Pop, can you stop moving?” I whispered. “It’s hard to keep following you.”

“Tough shit!” That opened my eyes, and I could see a smirk cross Dad’s lips, but I felt it would be wise to keep any wise-ass remarks about language to myself.

“I know I fucked up, but I was really missing Jeff, and it was our first time apart for more than a day or so, and I got to thinking about all the hot guys he’d be meeting at college and I... fucked up.”

“You said that twice, Sonny Boy.”

“Well, I know I fucked up big-time, Dad.”

Pop wasn’t calming at all. “Did you pull shit like this when I went to New York?”

Dad’s eyes widened. “I don’t think it’s quite the same thing, Justin. For starters, I was thirty-four.”

“Almost thirty-five.” Pop grinned and I hoped they were calming down.

“Fuck you.”

No such luck. Pop stared at me in such a way, it felt like he was burning a hole through me. “It does have similarities.”

I was glad to see Dad’s attention entirely focused on Pop. “To be honest, Sunshine, I felt sorry for myself, I smoked a shitload of cigarettes, drank some Beam, and let Michael convince me to return to the living by rebuilding Babylon. In a direct answer, I did not get smashed to the hilt -- that would serve no purpose.”

“And didn’t we see each other regularly as I’d predicted?”

“I’m assuming that’s a rhetorical question.”

“You bet your ass it is.”

“I believe it’s your ass that would know best.” Dad hid a smirk behind a cup of coffee he’d just filled for himself.

Pop redirected his attention to me. “Gus, has Jeff ever given you any reason to doubt him?”

I shook my head and was sorry I did -- the room started moving.

“No, he fucking hasn’t. If he had, he wouldn’t be as welcome here as he is... all the fucking time.”

“But, Pop--”

“No, but Pops!” Dad sat at the table and Pop stood behind him, resting his hands firmly on Dad’s shoulders. “If your father and I can go three fucking years living in different states without trashing our lives and bodies in the process--” His voice faded, but I began to understand the parallel.

“I know, I shouldn’t have smoked that shit or been drinking.”

Dad looked up at Pop.

“Gus, your dad and I know that you’ll try things in your life, but you can’t forget about the people who care about you, love you. If you do, you’ll hurt yourself and them.”

“Shit, Sonny Boy, if you’re not careful, you could get in a car without thinking and kill yourself or someone else.”

I began to understand why they were angry. It wasn’t so much the drinking or smoking -- it was the not knowing where the hell I was all night.

“Dad, Pop, I would never get behind the wheel of a car or in a car with someone who was drunk or stoned.”

Dad stood up, “When you’re all drunk or stoned, sometimes you don’t realize what you’re doing.”

Pop mumbled from behind, “Not everyone has a Michael.”

“Huh?” I didn’t know what he was talking about.

Dad scrubbed his hand over his face. “No matter where I was, what I did, or what condition I was in, I knew Michael would always come and get me.”

Matt and I didn’t make any provisions in case we decided not to head out for the night. No one knew where we were once we stopped answering the phone.

Pop nudged Dad. “Tell him about the birthday celebration.”

I had no idea what Pop was referring to, but obviously Dad did. He looked me directly in the eyes. “There was only one time Michael couldn’t get in touch with me -- on my thirtieth birthday. Because I’d always been smart enough to contact him, he knew it meant trouble.” Pop put his arm around Dad’s waist and leaned into him. “Let’s just say Michael proved, once again, why he is such a special friend.”

Dad turned and held Pop in his arms and they kissed -- really kissed for the first time since I’d come home.

“Sonny Boy, there’s not a lot I can tell you other than be mature and responsible. I won’t give you any bullshit about not doing things or trying things because you wouldn’t listen and I’d be a goddamn hypocrite. But I will say, if you ever pull any shit where Justin and I can’t get in touch with you, you’ll be lucky if you’re only grounded until you finish high school.”

Pop kissed Dad chastely. “Why don’t you head up to bed -- I’ll be there in a minute.”

Dad nodded and disappeared up the back stairway.

Pop faced me and I remained silent. I was finally regaining my better judgment.

“Gus, neither your father nor I are saints. But there’s one thing we’re both guilty of -- we love you more than anything in this fucking world.” He took a deep breath. “We thought you were in a car accident coming back here because you’ve always called us when you’d be late.” He pointed toward the stairs. “I don’t ever want to watch the man I LOVE panic as he did last night over you. Got it? You easily took ten years off his life, and I want him around for a shitload of more decades. Do you understand?”

I could feel tears dripping down my cheeks as I imagined the terror I’d put them through. I had a feeling Pop’s concerns matched Dad’s.

I nodded. “Never again, I promise -- never again.”

“Good.” Pop turned to head up the stairs. “Now, let’s all get some sleep, the sun’s already up.”

Picking up the cups he and Dad left on the kitchen table, I rinsed them and placed them in the dishwasher.

Walking up the stairs, I tried to wrack my brain to think of a way to make it up to them... and a way to tell Jeff how badly I screwed up.

Laying on my bed, my eyes wouldn’t quit dripping salty liquid, so I shut them tightly and fell asleep thinking how much I loved my fathers. I’d never want to feel the way they must have felt all night.

 

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