Page 80 of Ordinary Secrets

“Wonderful. In that case, please proceed with showing me what’s in this mysterious box.”

I suck in a deep breath before sticking a little metal key into the lock. With a twist, it opens, and I flip the lid. The first thing I pull out is a small framed picture.

Arella takes the scorched item as I hand it to her. “Are these your parents?”

“Yep, and that’s me when I was four.” I point at the little blonde boy with the shit-eating grin on his face. “This was the only picture I was able to recover from the fire. It was saved by this heavy-duty frame.”

“You were adorable! I mean, you still are, just with darker hair. And you look exactly like your father.”

“Everyone said that.” The next thing I pull out is a small chain with a circle pendant hanging from it. On the pendant are three birthstones. “This was my mom’s necklace.”

“Do these colors represent you and your parents?”

“Yep.” Next, I pick up a worn baseball. “I found this in the backyard the morning after they died. My dad and I went to baseball games pretty often. Whenever we played catch in the yard, he’d tell me that I’d play for the Dodgers someday.”

“Do you think about them a lot?”

“Occasionally.”An understatement.I think about my parents all the time.

Whenever I see people at the grocery store with their kids, I think about how my parents used to let me pick out what we got for dinner. The three of us would cook it all up, even if it didn’t go together.

I usually think of my mom whenever I see flowers. She used to always have a vase of freshly cut ones sitting on the dining table.

Yesterday, I saw a kid with his dad in a big blue truck, jamming out to music while they played the air drums. My dad and I did that plenty. He’s part of the reason why I love music so much.

My heart aches the more I think about my parents. This is usually when I distract myself with sex or music. Before Lizencouraged me to be sober, this was also when I’d get high. Thanks to her, now, I just live through the pain.

From the box, Arella grabs a small wad of cash paperclipped together. “What’s up with this?”

I take it from her and slide the paperclip off. A ten, two fives, and four ones. “Twenty-four dollars. Back then, this used to be a lot to me.”

“I thought you said your parents left you everything they had.”

“They did, but my uncle didn’t share that information with me until I turned eighteen. At first, I was ecstatic that my parents left me with money. Then, after reading through the paperwork, I learned that I could have been using it the whole time. My uncle purposely hid it from me.”

Arella’s face crumples. “Why?”

“Because he’s a dick. When I first moved in with him, all I had were the things in this box and the clothes on my back. He provided me with two shirts, two pairs of pants, some underwear, and that was it.

“I went to school rotating through those same three outfits. Eventually, the other kids noticed, and that’s when the fights started. I begged my uncle over and over to buy me more clothes, but he never did.

“Ultimately, I did what I could to make my own money. When I wasn’t in school, I was with him at work. He ran a big business with lots of employees. I did small jobs for them around the office, like making coffee or cleaning their shoes. I’d earn a few quarters here and there. Depending on the job, sometimes they’d pay me a whole dollar. Eventually, I saved up enough cash to make a trip to a store.

“I was so excited to buy myself a new shirt, pants, and socks. I still remember how the cashier looked at me funny, and I don’t blame her. I was an eight-year-old boy shopping by himself. Itold her that my uncle was just down the road at a different store. Eventually, he noticed that I was wearing new clothes. When I told him I bought them myself, he didn’t believe me. I was beaten that night for lying.”

Arella’s eyes water, and she uses the sleeve of her hoodie to wipe the tear away. I debate on ending the story there but feel the need to finish it.

“I didn’t tell my uncle that his employees had been paying me to do stuff for them. I knew he wouldn’t like it and would make me stop. Somehow, he found out and threatened to fire anyone who continued to pay me. Not only that, but he took what cash I had at the time and forced me to burn it.”

The memory of that night flashes across my mind. Victor slapped my face and yelled at me until I did what he demanded. A fireball appeared in my palm, and I threw it at all my hard-earned cash. I cried as I watched it burn until every last flame had flickered out. I think it was only fifty-some dollars, but at the time, that could have been new shoes.

Arella places a hand over her chest as another tear rolls down her face. Usually, crying makes me uncomfortable. With Arella, all I want is to comfort her, so I take her hand in mine and kiss her knuckles.

She wipes at her damp face with her other hand, then squeezes mine in a way that offers me comfort back. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“Don’t sweat it, babe. It turned out okay. In the end, I actually made more money. It’d been going on for so long that his employees were kinda dependent on me to do things for them. They got sneakier about paying me. Some of them even tipped me more because they heard about what my uncle did and felt bad.”

“Weren’t they afraid of getting fired?”

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