Searching Lucas

48

If only Jess knew how grateful I am.

Nate also walked the extra mile for me. The three of us worked on making pancakes—or rather, attempting not to burn down the kitchen. Pancake batter got on our faces, white flour caked our shirts, and hot droplets of melted butter rested on the sides of the burner.

"The first pancake is usually the ugly one," Nate reassured me after I flipped the half-burnt pancake. "The next one will be better."

"What a mess!" Jess said between laughs. "You two are cleaning up, you hear?"

After my fourth attempt, three edible pancakes lay stacked on a porcelain plate: crispy on the edges and flat on the surface. We enjoyed this sugary, buttery goodness, basking in the glory of an evening breakfast that unified us, finally having a place to call home.

***

I woke up at three in the morning to the sound of sudden laughter. A pile of ruffled-up blankets took Jess and Nate's side of the bed.

Now restless, I walked near the RV window, where Nate and Jess sat on the sand with a campfire between them. They were speaking loudly, slurred words in between. When I saw the few empty cans of beer that scattered them, a slight anxiety took over me. It was a bad memory, from the teen who peer pressured me to drink, who called me a slur, to how a few beer cans changed Michael's docile nature to a more dangerously outspoken one.

Anyone with common knowledge knows alcohol as an addictive social lubricant. It also changes people—turns a compulsive liar into an open book.

But Jess and Nate had smiles plastered on their half-asleep faces. Jess, who had been bedridden these past few days. Sick and waiting to perish. Now she was there, full of life—as if her sickness disappeared into the arid desert breeze with the sand.

Nate spoke between snickers. "Jesus Christ, Jessica! You are shameless. You know that? Shameless!"

"So what if I called my former boss a nasty pig in front of everyone?" Jess said, dragging a few vocals. "Calling Richard Wilde a pig was the best thing I've ever done. No. Shooting him was the best thing I've done. And you know what? I'd do it again."

"God, you're so..." Nate lingered, their eyes met. Nate had an infatuation, as though he was falling in love with her for the first time. "Badass."

"You think I'm badass?"

"Hell yeah, you are! I don't know any other girl who would do the things you did. I admire you, Jess. I admire you so, so much." Jess's face shifted, now looking slightly uneasy. "You are the bravest. Kindest—the most kindest person I have ever met."

"Nate,"

"In fact—screw Michael! He doesn't deserve you! You have a family right here. I'm not just a scapegoat anymore. I know you feel it too, Jess."

Jess thought about it as the fire brightened her face. Her eyes squinted with inquiry, making her hard to decipher.

"Nate, no—"

"Aren't you glad that he died?" Nate blurted out. "If Michael had never left you, Lucas wouldn't have been born."

Jess looked back at Nate. "You know what, Nate." She hunched, stood up wobbly, and stared down at Nate defensively. It was as though she'd grown taller, reducing Nate to a pint. "I wish I had my father growing up."

Nate must have had remorse, as his voice sounded more desperate the more he called out her name, trying to talk some sense into her. But honesty was the very last thing that Jess needed at this moment. Lie to her or tell her the truth—it mattered little to Jess.

"Jess, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I know how you feel—"

"You don't know how I feel, Nate!" Jess opened her arms wide, her fist clutching the beer can with grasp. "You don't know how it feels like to have your Mom dead, forcing you to live with the man that is supposed to be your father and that slut of a wife he has."

"Jess,"

"What do you know about me? You've only seen the highlights. That is all you've ever seen. You've never seen me with Lucas. Scared—crying myself to sleep because of loneliness. I was alone, Nate. Alone! Without my Mom. Lucas lost Terrance. Do you really want to know what hurts the most? It's not death—I welcome it with open arms. Dying doesn't scare me anymore. It's Lucas. He isn't ready for this world so vicious. This world is cruel and unforgiving. So how dare you sit there and call me brave? All I did was take Lucas out of that horrible place when the truth is that I am a coward for leaving him alone in the first place. I'm just like Dad."

Nate rested on his elbows, listening to Jess while I felt the weight on my stomach sink in deeper.

"You know how I felt the first time I entered Lucas's room. Sad. It smelled like Aunt Shelly's room: cooped up with his scent, the embodiment of somebody who never had to face challenges. Someone without responsibilities. Someone unprepared for the cruelties of the world and people in general. I cried whenever I was in my apartment. Alone. Without Lucas. Someone to ask questions. Someone to love."

Jess is right. I saw it on her face when she entered my bedroom for the first time. I wanted Jess to see my room for what it was: a haven for all my toys from the old house, including a few race cars from when I was four.

Being an orphan in your twenties was already hard enough. As a kid, you learn to adapt quickly. But nothing compares to being hung up on the childhood you've never had.

And when adulthood comes, you get called out many names. Spineless. Infantile.

I have learned to stay quiet when adversaries come to crash my thunder.

I have also learned that not everyone has good intentions.

Jess took a long swig before her fingers released the can with a soft thud. "I miss my Mom. And I miss my Dad. I don't want to die like this." Jess laid back on the ground with unfocused eyes. Nate moved over and wrapped his arms around her as she laid her head on his shoulder, where she finally broke down.

A sudden guilt poured over my brain with each heartbeat. At first, our conformist ways seemed like an easy excuse to blame the death of our parents. In the end, it was just that: an excuse. It was unfair for Jess to take on a significant responsibility at such a young age. And it would be selfish of me to leave Jess all that burden—a burden Jess didn't have to carry. She could have lived the rest of her days spending the last of her money on short-term pleasantries. Instead, she decided to spend her last moments by my side, finding me a new place to call home. That is what you do for someone you love.

And it was time for a change—time for me to grow and become the man Jess and our parents wanted.