Under the Orange Moon (20 page)

“No, he knows what this is about,” Ben growled. “It’s not about my mother, you asshole.”

Michael snapped. “What’s it about then, Ben?” He waved his hands around the group. “Tell your friends what it’s about.”

Ben shrugged off Jonah and Charlie’s hold. He pointed his finger and almost fell into a stool. “You touch her again, and I’ll kill you.”

“Her?” Hugh asked, confused. “Her who?”

“I’m right here,” Michael urged with open arms. “Dylan’s got you all figured out, anyway. She’ll come to me on her own. It’s only a matter of time.”

Ben’s rage moved forward and he lunged again. This time,
Brandon was ready and caught him on his way to Michael. With quite a scuffle, he pushed him out the door and into the night outside.

Dylan glared at Michael. This was not the way she wanted her brothers to find out. Michael was the sober one, the responsible one. No matter how badly Ben behaved, he shouldn’t have antagonized, which was exactly what he did.

Michael sighed regrettably. “Dylan, I’m sorry,” he said. “He just pushes, you know?”

“I quit,” she said simply, and walked out the door.

Charlie, Hugh, and Jonah followed, drunk and dumfounded at what had just taken place before them. It was clear in their expressions that they were assessing and replaying everything back in their minds.

Dylan stepped outside and followed
Brandon as he dragged Ben down the sidewalk. When she caught up to them, Ben was finally released and slammed up against a brick wall.

“You want to explain this?”
Brandon asked, angrily. “Are you really this stupid, Dylan? How could you even think getting involved with him was a good idea?”

“Just go get them,” Dylan answered, pointing behind her.

“I’m not done with you,” Brandon warned, and stormed away.

Dylan felt as if she was in trouble, which only irritated her more.
Brandon, out of them all, felt that he was her father sometimes, which she felt was stupid seeing how he was only six years older than her.

“You’re screwing Oilie now?” Ben asked in a belligerent snarl. “I knew it.”

“You should go,” Dylan said, pulling at his hand. “Let me get you a cab.”

“No, wait,” he said, and pulled her to him. He made no attempt at discretion and held her like they had been in a normal relationship for years. “I miss you,” he whispered drunkenly.

Dylan nodded with tears in her eyes. She was hurt and sad; though, mostly confused by his behavior. “Why don’t we talk about it tomorrow?”

“You can come to my house.” He laughed carelessly. “We know for a fact no one’s there, don’t we?”

“Ben, you’re falling apart,” Dylan whispered compassionately. “You have to try and get a grip on this.”

“You can’t fix me,” he whispered. “You should give up.”

The Mathews brothers caught up to them. They all stood quietly, knowing the secret that Ben and Dylan had been hiding for weeks. They stared with confusion in their eyes, waiting for an explanation to come and knowing they wouldn’t be getting it on that particular night.

“C’mon, man,” Jonah said, pulling at Ben’s arm. “Let’s get out of here.”

Ben yanked his arm from Jonah. He leaned in closer to Dylan’s face, and said, “You should run back in there. Your boyfriend’s waiting.” He turned and walked away, stumbling into the wall as he headed down the sidewalk, and finally disappeared.

Jonah turned and looked at Dylan with a torn expression. He looked towards Ben’s direction and then at his sister, whom he probably felt needed him the most just then. It was an awful place for him to be in.

“Jonah, he’ll only talk to you,” Brandon shouted, and pointed down the sidewalk. “We’ll take care of her. You and Hugh go get Ben.”

They ignored Dylan when she shouted, “I don’t need to be taken care of!”

Jonah and Hugh raced to catch up to Ben. Dylan wanted them all to go, or she would have much preferred not to be bombarded with questions by Brandon and Charlie, especially Brandon.

“Weed?” Charlie asked, breathless and confused. “You and Ben?”

Dylan spun around, dislodging thick tears and sending them down her cheeks from the swift movement. “My name is
not
Weed!” she screamed, and stormed off into the night.

They say that everyone dies alone. When Carl Mathews left, he took a piece of the world with him. The house, the land, all that he touched in his life, seemed less after he was gone.

On his death bed at home, exactly where he wanted to be, he asked his family members to come to him, one by one. They took their turns, Brandon first, then down along the line by age. Each child left the room in tears, but smiling. He sent them each with something from his heart, something they would keep with them forever.

It was clear that he had passed the torch onto
Brandon, declaring him the man of the house and protector of his baby sister, a job Brandon would commit to with all that he had in him. He would always watch over her, something he had always done, but now, more than ever, he felt he needed to do so in his father’s honor.

Each one of the boys were given a job and told something fatherly and philosophical perhaps, something that Carl had wanted to teach them someday but couldn’t due to his premature death sentence. He sat with them all and joked at the end of his speech, making them laugh through their tears as they left the room and sent the next person in.

At last, when Dylan’s turn arrived, she walked into his room and wasted nothing getting into the bed and nestling into his safe, fragile arms. She knew time was wearing thin on moments like that particular one, so she couldn’t be bothered with the slow, dramatic walk to his side.

“You have a button nose,” Carl whispered as he gently poked the tip. “You make buttons beautiful.”

Dylan stared at her dying father, unaware that she was crying. Not even the pouring tears that ran from her eyes to her cheeks were an indication. In all of her thirteen years of life, this was the moment that made her feel more alive than ever. Call it growing up, an epiphany perhaps. She liked to think of it as the day her father transitioned into the angel he is today. She almost felt pride in the fact that she was able to witness it. Despite the pain his absence caused, she knew he would never really be that far because she watched him leave.

Carl was weak, but his heart was bigger than ever, open and ready. He looked peaceful with the luminous sunshine from the window beaming on his pale face. The dust particles dancing through the stream of gold added more of a spiritual touch to the feel of the room. Dylan was young, but even then she was so blessed with an eye for creativity that she even seemed to make her father’s deathbed beautiful.

It was obvious what was approaching. His eyes were red, his hair was gone. He weighed less than Dylan, she was sure. He looked ninety years old, far older than the forty-five year old superhero he had been only five months before.

“Does it hurt?” she asked innocently.

Carl shook his head and pointed to Dylan’s heart. “This hurts worse. I hear it breaking.”

“Will you ever come back?”

“I’ll never leave,” he said with a choking laughter. “You just won’t see me anymore. I can’t leave you, you know?”

“Can I talk to you?”

Carl leaned forward weakly and kissed his daughter’s forehead. “Always,” he answered.

“Where will you be?”

Carl sighed as he kept his lips to his baby’s hair. “Everywhere you are.” He pulled away and smiled, before adding, “Where I can watch you with health in my heart.”

Dylan imagined him floating above her. In all the things she’d learn from her parents and church, she never truly understood the idea of being watched by people she herself could not see. She found at that point she was willing to believe anything if it meant her father could still exist beyond his untimely and completely unjust death.

“Now, I want you to remember something for me,” he demanded sweetly.

Dylan smiled through her tears. “Anything.”

“Someday you’re going to fall in love. Someday you’re going to fail. Someday you’re going to be broken. You have to keep the fight inside you—the fight that I love about you—the fight that makes you Dylan.”

She nodded, sending more tears down her gleaming, wet cheeks and onto her soaked shirt.

“Promise me you’ll remember how wonderful you are. Promise me you’ll allow yourself to be beautiful, inside and out.”

“I promise.”

“That’s my girl.” Carl ran his hands through her hair and pulled her against his chest. “And when you fall in love, you’ll know that he’s the one because you’ll feel it in your soul. You’ll know when to surrender to it, and you’ll know when to let it go.”

Even then, Dylan pictured Ben.

“And if he breaks your heart, I’ve instructed your brothers to kill him,” he teased. There was some truth to that, though, and Dylan wasn’t surprised.

Nothing else was said between the two of them. Nothing else needed to be done. They quietly watched the sun as it disappeared into the sky and was replaced by an orange moon.

The entire Mathews family stayed in the room with Carl that night. Linda and Dylan slept in the bed with him and the boys spread out in chairs and on the floor.

Ben stayed away, only to leave Carl a note that he could read earlier that day. No one else ever saw it because Carl did exactly what Ben requested at the end, he shredded it to pieces and threw it away.

Carl Mathews died the next morning. It was quiet, expected, and the most difficult thing that any of them would ever do. He left them with laughter in their hearts. He left them with peace in their souls. He left them knowing that they would survive without him as long as they stuck together.

“I don’t know what to say,” Linda said in a sigh. She looked out the window and sipped from her coffee. “Should we have expected this?”

In the Mathews family, when predicaments were exposed, they would band together as Carl had instructed them years before. They filled Linda in on whatever it was, obviously hoping for direction. They would discuss it as a family if there weren’t any answers to be found. In this particular problem, no one was even sure of the question to ask.

“It all makes sense, though, you know?” Hugh said. “He’s been no where to be found, and she hasn’t even been coming home at night. Oh, God, I can’t even wrap my head around it.”

“Why her, though?” Brandon asked angrily. “Out of all the girls Ben could have, why her?”

“Are you saying she’s not good enough for him?” Charlie asked with an eyebrow raised. “She’s the best he’d ever get.”

“I didn’t say
he
was too good for her, dumbass. I’m asking why he would choose to make our little sister one of his castaways.” Brandon seemed to get more agitated as he spoke. “You really think he didn’t use her?”

“Oh, man, that sucks,” Hugh groaned. He placed his forehead onto the table. “I can’t even think of it.”

“I don’t think he used her,” Charlie said. “I think there really was something there and he lost it when his mother did what she did. I think it makes sense for them to be together.”

“Don’t defend him!”
Brandon shouted.

“Do we have to kick his ass now? I mean, is that even okay to do?” Hugh held his turning stomach. “This is Ben. I can’t fight Ben.”

“No one’s fighting Ben!” Charlie’s voice was slowly rising. He stood to his feet and looked at Brandon. “Let’s just see how it plays out. Give it a chance before you go all crazy big brother on him.”

Brandon
stood, too. “We’re seeing how it plays out right now. He’s leaving my little sister brokenhearted. Where the hell are your loyalties anyway?”

“With
our
little sister, of course, but—God—this is
Ben
we’re talking about. He might as well have our last name!” Charlie looked at Linda. “Mom?”

“Beating up Ben won’t make anyone feel better. I think we should just leave it alone,” Linda answered. She was torn and it showed all over her sad expression. “He’ll never come back here anyway. I’ve heard he may be getting ready to put Ruth’s house on the market.”

“See?” Brandon said. “He’s gone. He’s leaving her.”

Jonah sat, arms crossed, chewing on his lower lip. For the entire morning he had said nothing, leaving little input to his own feelings on the matter. One thing was certain to them all: he was ridiculously lost over the whole thing.

He stood in the middle of the conversation, and slowly walked to the other side of the room as if he hadn’t listened to a bit of their bickering.  His hands were shoved deep into his pockets as he hid in the corner.

No one in that room felt the way he did. Ben was his best friend and Dylan was his twin. He thought,
Let them be together if they want
. But, he knew better than anyone, Ben was going to break Dylan’s heart. Selfishly, the only thing he questioned was where that left him, stuck between his best friend and his twin sister?