Page 29 of Born Into Trouble (Occupy Yourself)
Fourteen
6 weeks later
Benny sat on a log near a roaring bonfire, listening to the music lifting into the air all around him. Some from boom boxes and speakers, but most came from a variety of instruments including dulcimers, flattops, mouth harps, and the beauty that was an a cappella song.What a perfect day, he thought, making a mental note to thank DeeDee again for all her hard work. Andy and Ruby were on their way to the Georgia coast for their honeymoon, leaving all their worries in the cloud of dust that lifted in a rooster tail behind Andy’s bike. Now it was dark, and the Rebel Wayfarers celebratory party had swung into high gear once the sun went down. Even with that, the mood was mellow and sweet for the most part. Benny grinned into the darkness as a loud shout and splash sounded near the lake. Some groups might be a tad rowdier than others.
“Fuck.” The muttered curse came from behind him, the voice one he recognized. Benny twisted in place to watch a young man making his way across the grounds. Benny frowned when he saw Chase, Mason’s son, carrying a partial six-pack of mixed beers in his hand. Andy had brought Benny up to speed on the relationship between the boy who desperately wanted to fit in anywhere, and the man who threatened Benny’s life in a local restaurant. Not that Andy knew a single word of what went down with Mason, but it would be an encounter Benny would never forget.Another reason to stick to the straight and narrow, he thought, shivering as he remembered the weight of Mason’s displeasure.An extremely compelling one.
“Heey.” Only the slightest of slurs marred Chase’s voice as he stumbled over absolutely nothing, staggering the last couple of feet to the log. “Benny.” Chase leaned over to set down the lop-sided cardboard container of bottles; his body elaborately angled to keep his balance, and Benny felt a sadness sinking inside him. He was this kid at fourteen, drunk but holding tight to the illusion that no one noticed.
Benny had been able to fake things for a long while because the people who surrounded him either didn’t give a shit or wanted him wasted. He liked Chase, liked how the kid worked hard at learning how to play guitar. Worked hard at things his dad never knew about, like blending so as not to embarrass. Benny knew he could give Mason’s boy more than he’d gotten as a kid. Could give him better, let him know people gave a shit.Call it like I see it. Like Andy would.
“You’re drunk.” His words dropped into the stillness like a rock into a pool. “Not stupid drunk yet, not blackout drunk, but well on your way. And it shows if you look close enough. I’m looking, Chase.” Chase straightened and stared through the darkness at him, shadows hiding his expression. “I get it, the wanting to grow up and be what you see around you.” Chase’s head shook the slightest amount, and Benny wondered if he’d gotten it wrong, deciding to try a slightly different tactic.
“I get wanting to block shit out, and booze? Oh, man, booze is great at that.” Chase didn’t react to this gambit, and he knew he was probably hitting closer to home now. “Shit happens in our lives, and it’s easier to numb the shit out of it than think about it. Numb becomes a go-to response. Shit happens? We drink it out, pill it down, snort it away. Numb ourselves until we can be convinced that shit doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. But it does.” He leaned forwards, trying to emphasize his next words. “It matters even more at that point. This,”—he gestured to the beer—“it ain’t the right way, Chase.”
Benny paused, trying to compose his thoughts.Make it real. Tell him what he’s got. “You got a dad who gives a shit about you, Chase. Cares what happens to you, what’s happening in your life. He’s here, and he’s giving you room to be the man you need to be, but he gives a shit. More than gives a shit, he’s all over trying to be what you need. And he cares.” Mason did. Benny had seen the truth with his own eyes more than once. “If you’re struggling with something, you should talk to him.” Finally out of words, Benny sat quietly, waiting.
Tipping his head backwards, Chase stared up at the sky for a moment, staggering a step before he caught his balance and looked down at Benny again. Chase’s voice was tight when he muttered, “Mason. All I hear is Mason. I’ve only known him a couple years, did you know that? I saw him forty times total before my old lady dumped me on him. A man who never wanted kids, stuck with me, and I’m always just…”—he staggered again, dropping his ass to the log, finally—“in the way. Just in the fucking way. I’m a loser dragging him down. Not smart enough for real school because my ma kept me out almost all the time.” He leaned over, pulling a bottle from the container positioned precariously next to his foot. “I ain’t got nothing to offer him.
Chase struggled with the lid on the bottle, voice dropping to a near whisper. “First time I fucked up? He kicked me to the fuckin’ curb.” Chase’s head came up, and he abandoned his efforts to open the bottle, inclining his body towards Benny, yelling, “Right to the mother. Fuckin’. Curb. Muthafuckin’ curb.” Clapping his hands together, he lost his hold on the beer, and it fell to the dirt, the condensation on the sides turning it to mud, a thick layer covering the bottle. “Fuck.” Chase looked down at the bottle as if it were unfamiliar. “One strike and I’m out? That’s jacked, man. I wanted back in so bad, do anything. Tried hard. Got beat down every time. Jacked. Muthafuckin’ curb.” He gestured wildly with one arm. “Well, fuck that. And fuck him.”
“Chase.” Benny leaned over, picking up the bottle and wiping it casually with his fingers before slotting it back into the six-pack holder. “I think you’ve got it entirely wrong.” Chase shook his head, but Benny continued. “Lemme break it down for you. You might not remember it all tomorrow,” he grabbed a bottle of water from the stash Lucia had brought him earlier and pressed it into Chase’s hand, “but if you remember even a little of it, you’ll be better off than you are now.” He nabbed the beers and put them on the other side of the log, away from the fire and light.Out of sight, out of mind. Yeah, right.
“Mason thinks a lot of you. So much, I’d have never known you weren’t raised by him. He’s so easy and comfortable with you. Loves you, man. Clear as day. I don’t know what kind of relationship he had with your mom, but I know what he has with you.” Cradling his guitar, he strummed the strings softly. “I don’t think he sees you as a fuck-up. Certainly not a loser. He loves you. Your mom doesn’t sound like the sharpest stick, man. You sure she got the details right?” He fell into a well-memorized rhythm; an old Occupy Yourself song he’d written about himself.
Humming, he picked up the melody’s thread, nodding when Chase started mouthing the words. “Queen of what you hated.” All his life, his mother had been the queen of hearts in the hand dealt him by life. “Life gone wrong, no room for space.” She’d never had room for him. Not since he was a kid. Not since his daddy died. “Heels tottering in the nighttime.” Benny bowed his head, having seen his mother this weekend, even keeping his distance, he knew the words no longer fit her, but things were what they were when he was a kid, and that was what this song was.The legacy of my childhood. “Smears and fears of living, written on your face.”
Moving with jerky motions, he set the guitar aside, surprise on Chase’s face at his abandonment of the song. “That song’s for my mom, Chase. How she made me feel for a long time. I held onto the pain for…ever. Things happened, and she’s ashamed of them, and I’m ashamed of what I did, too. But my behavior isn’t her responsibility. It’s mine. And your mother doesn’t have one thing to do with you being drunk tonight.” Anger twisted Chase’s mouth to the side, and Benny knew he was losing whatever tenuous hold he had on the kid. “But for me, writing it out helped. Putting it to music helped. Singing it a million times? That helped, too. Until now.” He picked the guitar back up, threading the melody with his fingertips again. “Not anymore. Those words don’t hold any power over me.” Changing the melody, he gave it an upbeat rockabilly sound, the lyrics bounding out of his mouth.
“Because I was born into trouble. Oh yeah, I was born to be trouble.” Arm effortlessly strumming, he moved through the song. “My brother’s burden.” A voice lifted from the darkness, joining him and he grinned when he recognized Bear. “A burden no more. What’s the matter with trouble, brother?” Bear and another man walked into the clearing, carrying six-strings, playing the song, following the alters effortlessly. “My brother’s a beast, never gonna make his life a waste. Because I wasn’t born to be trouble. No, oh, no I wasn’t.” He grinned when Luce followed her dad into the clearing. Benny felt his chest get tight when she had eyes only for him. They’d gotten so close over the past weeks, and now she was as important to his life as breathing. Maybe more. “Lines were drawn, oh yes, they were. Plans were laid. My plans, they changed, because I’m a burden no more.”
She smiled broadly at him, then looked at Chase and made a face. Benny segued into another song he knew was a favorite for Bear and then let him lead their playing from there on. Lucia walked past him, fingertips trailing familiarly across the nape of his neck and he tipped his chin up, waiting until she leaned in and brushed her lips across his, glad that he had stopped trying to push her away.Need you, he thought, savoring her touch. Lifting an inch, she stared into his eyes for a moment and then, apparently satisfied at what she saw, moved to sit next to Chase where the boy immediately leaned into her, head on her shoulder. When she wasn’t watching, Chase’s eyes stayed fixed intently on her face, and Benny frowned, wondering what that was about.
