Page 32 of Five Goodbyes

The hum of my tires make just enough noise to be heard as the cabin becomes silent while Isaiah types out his message to his parents. I can’t imagine what it would be like as a parent to get a text or call that your kid has been hurt. Thinking about that scenario turns my stomach and I go from being okay with being the cool guy to being a concerned adult.

“Listen bud, you got into a bad situation that could have turned out worse. You have a lot of life to live and I’m sure there will be more instances that get you into the brink of fights, but this kind of stuff can’t happen. Next time you may end up on the working end of a gun. It isn’t out of the realm of possibilities here in Miami for shootouts to happen exactly like it played out tonight. Maybe not in the club, but they could be waiting for you once you walk outside. I’ve been in this area long enough and have seen it happen more times than I’d like to admit.”

Silence fills the cabin of my car and I have to admit I’m starting to feel the burn of frustration in his non-response. For whatever reason, I dig my heels in and refuse to create the next words between us. Before I know it, we’re at my apartment building and make it into my apartment and still haven’t said anything.

“Couch is there. Bathroom is there. See you in about four hours,” I gruff.

Before Isaiah can say anything, if he’s going to, I shut my bedroom door in his face and fall onto my awaiting bed. To my chagrin my phone comes to life before the alarm does, bringing my frustration to a boil.

Without even looking at the phone, I pull it to my ear. “What,” I say forcefully.

“Whoa there killer. What’s your issue?” a sweet voice asks.

“I’m sorry, love. Late night or early morning. How are you?” I ask.

“Yeah, well, Isaiah’s here, and my parents are on their way over. Are you going to join us?”

I pop up from bed, frantically looking around for the time, forgetting the tool in my hand will instantly give it to me. The thin ray of sunlight slipping by my dark curtain tells me something’s off. My brain finally engages, and I look at my phone to find it’s almost noon.

“Dammit! Yeah, I’m on my way. Be there in thirty. Love you, beautiful,” I say as I make a beeline to the shower.

Lucas, Amy, and I pull into Jasmine’s parking lot at the same time, make quick hellos, and are at Jasmine’s door within minutes. I purposely don’t bring up anything with Isaiah. It isn’t my position to do so.

As the door opens, I instinctively have Jasmine’s parents go in first, follow their hugs with a bigger hug and a sweet kiss to my bride-to-be. She gives me a quick rise of her perfectly shaped eyebrows, a little head nod toward the living room, and a shrug of her shoulders. How this is going to go, I don’t know, but at least she isn’t frustrated with me.

“What the hell!” Lucas’s voice roars through the condo.

“Dad, let me explain . . .” Isaiah starts, but is cut off.

“No! You come to visit your sister, and the first chance you have to go out you end up in a fight. What in the hell is the issue with you?”

Jasmine and I walk into the room as Isaiah stands to confront his dad. If it’s to try and show his strength against his father, or just to not feel like he’s being stood over, I don’t know, but it doesn’t look good from my position.

“Nothing’s wrong with me. I didn’t start this!” Isaiah grits out.

“Bullshit. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re still so short sighted. If you didn’t have someone saving you every time you get into trouble you wouldn’t know what to do with your life.”

Isaiah takes a half step toward his dad, a move I know well, and a move that doesn’t ever end well. This is a surprising move by the young man, and before I know it, I’m interjecting. Of all the people here, I’m probably the last of them to do it, but I see exactly what’s happening.

“Whoa. Okay. Alright,” I say, stepping in between them.

“Hunter, please, stay out of this. This is between my son and me,” Lucas barks out, not looking at me.

“I respect you, sir, but this time I’m going to have to disagree with you. This is between the two of you, as well as your wife, your daughter, and me.” The statement takes only a breath of wind from his sails. I keep the momentum going.

“I don’t know you, Mr. Anderson, but you were a young man once and I’m sure had times where you made decisions that were less than desirable and probably quite a bit questionable. If not, I can tell you, without reservation, I did. I know you’ve turned out well and I like to think that I’ve turned out pretty good.”

I let this point sit for a second before starting again as I know the momentum is fractional and can spin on dime in a second.

“Last night may have been immature and obviously you’re upset about it, but Isaiah’s a man now and must walk through all of thisstupidityto know where he belongs in the world. Going through it will allow that backbone to become straight and true. I’m not advocating the bullcrap that went down last night, but the lesson learned through this is huge.”

“Or not,” Jasmine quips. I step off the soap box and raise my hands, showing that my part in the discussion is over.

Lucas takes a step back, envelopes Amy’s hand in his and lets out a long breath. He looks over to his spouse, to Jasmine, and then to his son. The feelings of frustration that were thick in the room a few minutes before are now all but gone. At least from my vantage point. What Isaiah is feeling or doing behind me, I have no idea.

“Hunter, if you don’t mind,” Lucas starts. I take the hint, step aside, allowing enough space for Lucas and Isaiah to face each other without interference from my body.

“Son, I apologize for my outburst. My anger and frustration is misguided, and I hope you know I want nothing but the best for you. Hunter’s correct, you and I are distinctive people and see and do things differently.”

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