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Grey Matter
I hate you, I love you
You're amusing
I love you
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As the days passed, I read more fan mail than I ever wanted to. I listened to more girls crying over Zac than I ever needed to. I was inundated and overwhelmed by the level of emotion these girls felt for Isaac, Taylor and Zac. Still, the messages kept coming.... I couldn’t listen to the messages fast enough. I knew the boys appreciated their fans. But, I don’t know if the boys truly understood how much they meant to their fans, because in all honesty, they are such great, humble guys. But, I don’t think they understand they truly can change the lives of these girls. Most of the letters and messages were forgettable. But some were astounding. I sorted the letters by whichever brother it was written to, letters for the whole group, or letters that they needed to see.
Most of the letters were sweet with lots of “I love you’s” and “you inspire me’s.” Many of the letters, I just quickly skimmed over and put in the appropriate box, after carefully making sure the address of the sender was written somewhere on the page. But, every once in a while there was a letter that would totally capture my attention. I would read it from top to bottom, often finding tears welling up in my eyes. The phone messages were another thing altogether. I deleted all messages involving screaming or squealing. But, I listened to the calmer ones and then distributed them to wherever they need to be. 1 for Isaac, 2 for Taylor, 3 for Zac, 4 for all three. Almost every message had one thing in common, the voice always said “I can’t believe I got through.”
My mother and I kept a respectful distance. She left before I got up, I came home from work and left almost immediately with Jarrod or Seth or Megan. Or sometimes, I would drive to Bixby and let myself into the Hansons house to sleep in Taylors bed. I had even spent a few evenings up on top of the shed watching the constellations move across the sky. My cell phone bill was enormous, but I paid it gladly. Taylor and I talked almost 5 times a day, usually to lift each others spirits. But one thing was always the same about everyday, I came home after I knew she was asleep.
I walked the short distance between the MOE house and my house for lunch one hot afternoon. As I pushed the door open, I immediately knew I wasn’t alone. “Hello?”
“Cleo?” My mother called from the den.
“Yeah...” I said as I pulled the fridge open.
“What are you doing home?” She said as she walked into the kitchen.
“Well, they do let me eat...” I said not shifting my gaze to her.
“Why are you acting like this?” My mother said lowering the papers she was holding and looking at me.
“Acting like what?” I said turning towards her and glaring back at her. “What now you’re an expert on how I act? Please...”
“I think I know you, I gave birth to you.”
“That’s about all you gave me.” I said. The hurt on her face should have been enough to stop me from continuing along this particular line of thought and yet, my mouth took over where my brain me to stop. “But then again, that wasn’t really your choice was it. I was pretty much a package deal with Thad. But, aren’t there times you wish you could have returned me? Or maybe I could have just died at birth. Save you all this trouble...”
“Cleo, that isn’t fair.” My mother said, her lips were white she was pinching them together so tightly, but her cheeks had patches of bright red on them. Still, her eyes were dry.
“You know what isn’t fair? That you have never given me the chance.” I said. “I wasn’t Thad, so I wasn’t good enough... Even if you don’t wish I’d died, right now, I wish I had never left the hospital, cause I can’t live like this anymore.”
“I’m not getting into this with you right now. Perhaps, once you calm down and want to discuss whatever it is that is bothering you rationally, like an adult, we can go as many rounds as you’d like.” My mother spit out before turning on her heel and leaving me standing in the kitchen.
My appetite gone, I walked out to the sunporch and sat on the couch. In this room, I couldn’t escape Thad or Isaac or Taylor or Zac or even Jarrod. Truth be told, my room was just as bad, as was Thad’s room and my parents room and even the den. This house was lousy with them, crawling with images or momentos. Those five boys defined me. I was the person slumped on the couch because of them. And all of this hate and anger I was venting, literally spewing onto my mother was surprising. But as I thought about it, it really wasn’t. I moved out of this house and into the dorms just a few short weeks after Thad died. When I graduated, I was immediately hired by Diana. I left for Los Angeles a few short hours after the ceremony where I received my Master’s cowl. So, the last 2 and a half weeks were pretty much the longest I’d stayed here, stayed in the house I grew up in, stayed in this shrine to Thad. And the longer I stayed, the more of who I had become was blurred into who I had been.
In this house, I would never be allowed to age beyond 16. I understood that my mother didn’t resent my being alive. But she resented my continuing on, while Thad would forever be a newly 16 year old boy. He would always be handsome and shaggy and golden. Thad also had the distinct advantage in that all of his major mess ups were behind him. In death, he had become perfect, but I had continued to be imperfect.
I slid off the couch and onto the floor, unable to gather the energy to stand, I crawled over and laid on the floor in front of my mothers eternal tribute to Thad. There were hundreds, maybe even thousands of pictures of Thad and I shellacked onto the wall. So many pictures I could hardly take it in. As I lay there, the phone began to ring. The phone was just a few short feet from where I lay and yet, I just didn’t want to move, to pick it up, to make the effort. On the sixth ring, the ancient answering machine picked up. “You have reached the Burton residence, no one is available to take your call.” The answering machine said with my voice. “Please leave your name, number and a detailed message and someone will get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you!” The machine emitted a harsh beep. I leaned my forehead against the wall of pictures. My fingers running along the uneven surface, I had a pretty good idea who it would be. I had already talked to him 3 times that morning.
“Cleo, it’s Tay...” He said, as if it could be anyone else. “I know you’re there... I just talked to Margot about 5 minutes ago and she said you went home... Please, pick up...” I could hear his soft breathing on the other end of the line. “Okay, I guess you don’t want to talk to me right now... Well, Zac has actually improved to the point that the doctor says he’ll release him tomorrow. We’ve chartered a plane for him to fly home. My mom and dad were wondering if you would drive over to our house, pick up Ike’s Explorer and pick them up at the airport. My dad thinks it’d be easier and less public for you to come and get them, rather than hiring a car. Ike and I are going to drive the van home, so, we should be home the day after tomorrow. Well, just in case you haven’t heard, we’ve canceled the rest of the tour. Of course, working in the office, you’d have heard. Man, I’m really tired. I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed. But, the doctor said we should be able to go into the studio as early as late October. You’re coming with us to New York, right? I mean, I really want you there.” Again, he fell silent. I could hear his soft breathing and a soft almost silent rustling. In my mind, I could see him running his fingers through his messy blonde hair. I closed my eyes and imagined the warm smell of his skin. I missed him so badly. “Cleo, please, pick up... I hope you come with us... Cleo, I love you so much and so does everyone else...” I could hear Zoë calling him in the background. “Cleo, I’ve got to go... Remember, I love you.”
I dove for the phone. “Tay? Tay? Please...” All I could hear was a dial tone. “I love you too....” I gently set the phone back in it’s cradle and went back to my position on the floor in front of my mother’s personal shrine to my childhood. My eyes slowly swept across the wall, stopping on each picture for a split second. Each picture a memory washing over me like a wave. The memory literally stealing my breath. Soon, I was lying on the floor my eyes glued to a photo of Taylor chasing me across the lawn. It was blurry, but beautiful. We probably were in the middle of a game of full-body tackle tag, because I was just steps in front of him, his hand reaching for me. Yet another example of Taylor reaching for me and me running away. I was so focused on the picture in front of me that I didn’t hear my mother as she came down into the sunporch.
“Cleo, who was on the phone?” She asked cautiously. My mother truly is a regal woman, all airs and grace. Her long dark hair shot through with gray piled on top of her head in a severe bun, with almost whimsical curls escaping all around her face. Her eyes a light sea green peered over the top of her half glasses with a constant air of disapproval. In my whole life, I’ve rarely seen my mother in anything that wasn’t pressed. She never just wore a t-shirt; She wore shirts made of jersey material that had creases in the sleeves. She didn’t wear Levis; she wore denim pants with a tight crease down the front. Her sneakers were always immaculate. Her socks were the same color as her t-shirts. And when she smiled, she smiled with her lips only, her smile never reached her eyes. I often thanked God Thad and I looked like our father.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I said rolling over onto my back and looking up at her.
“Oh Lord Cleo, I am not in the mood for your dramatics.” My mother said as she stood directly over me. “And, would you please get off the floor. Sit in a chair, act civilized. I know you have better manners than you are currently exhibiting.”
“What?” I asked looking up at my mother. If I can only say one thing about my mother, it would be that straight up her nose is not her best angle.
“Cleo...” My mother said exasperation in her voice. She walked over and sat on the he couch facing me, her head falling forward onto her knees. “Please, I just can’t do this right now. I just can’t...”
“Can’t do what?” I asked rolling over so I was staring at the wall. I reached out and ran my fingers across a picture of Thad and I. I stopped my finger covering my face, leaving just a smiling Thad hugging a headless body. I just couldn’t bear to look at my mother and her grief.
“I can’t go down this road with you again.” She said sniffling.
“What?” I demanded.
“I can’t hold your hand while you lose Thad all over again.” She said. I rolled over and looked at her. She and Diana were practically the exact same age and yet, my mother looked so old.
“Mom,” I said pulling myself back upright and dragging myself to my feet, “when did you go this road with me the first time?”
“What?”
“If I remember correctly, when Thad died, you were concerned with your grief... You were so busy with you dead child, you neglected me.” I said feeling an irrational anger boiling up out of nowhere. “On the day of Thad’s funeral, you told me to get myself ready. You couldn’t even be bothered to help me.”
“I had a lot to deal with,” My mother began. I could tell that she didn’t want to fight and yet, she seemed to want finish this, to clear the air. “I didn’t have time to deal with your hair traumas. I didn’t know you were going to... Well, to cut off all your hair.”
“Mom, it so wasn’t about my hair...” I began.
“Cleo, please. It was 6 years ago, do we have to relive that day?” She asked tears welling up in her eyes. “You don’t even try to understand do you? I had just lost my sunshine...”
“Oh yeah, I forgot.” I said my voice meaner than I meant it to be. “You are the only one who lost anything, all you were left with was me. You’re too smart, broken down daughter. Well, fuck you!! Do you have any comprehension what I lost?” I was now yelling as I backed away from her and her tears. “I lost the best part of me...”
I took the stairs two at a time and skidded to a stop in front of Thad’s room. I turned and looked in at the bed ready to be slept in, at the desk, paper and pen out and ready to be used, at the bulletin board with an airline ticket that will never be used. I walked into his room and was transported back 6 years. It was truly possible to imagine him as still alive standing in this shrine. I quietly closed the door behind me and began what I should have done long ago. I began to release Thad from his room.
I walked to the wall next to his bed and began to pull the faded pictures off the wall, exposing the unfaded blue plaid wallpaper. Soon, I had the pictures stripped off the wall. I could hear my mothers footsteps coming up the stairs. I knew she would be upset by what I was doing so my actions sped up... I pulled open the drawer to his nightstand and dumped the contents out onto his bed. I stopped momentarily and looked at the random things my brother had collected. His glasses winked up at me, along with his prized Swiss Army Knife, a chapstick and one of my silver rings that I hadn’t seen in well over six years were scattered along with change and scraps of paper. I was mesmerized by the simplicity of it all. These were his things and he should be here with them. He should be and yet, he wasn’t... Suddenly, it hit me. He isn’t coming back, ever... I needed to get rid of these things, his things... I needed to free myself and my mother.
I began to move frantically around the room, sweeping things off his dresser, pulling things out of his bookshelf, pulling everything out of his drawers. Outside the closed door, I heard my mother come out of her room and move past his room. I heard the door to my room open. “Cleo?”
I ripped open the closet and pulled the clothing off the hangers, I threw shoes out of the bottom of the closet, I reached up and pulled the boxes filled with his treasure onto the floor, I grabbed at his magazines, carelessly ripping off the covers. I stepped back to his bed and grabbed his bedspread, literally flinging it across the room... I pulled on the sheets stripping the bed in one hard tug. I grabbed the mattress and flipped it off the box springs, exposing his precious Playboy collection. I stepped across his bed and yanked the curtains down, literally yanking the curtain rod out of the wall. I turned to the last shelf. A shelf covered with his most prized possessions. His trophies and his beloved shot glass collection. I took them one by one and hurled them against the opposite wall. The final item was an enormous glass snowglobe, I launched it at the wall and it shattered with a satisfying thud.
I stopped and put my hands over my eyes. Almost afraid to survey the damage I had done to his room. I had trashed the shrine. I looked over to where my mother was standing in the bathroom between mine and Thad’s rooms, her eyes wide and her hand over her mouth. As our eyes remained locked over the carnage, huge, fat tears began to slip down her cheeks. “Cleo?”
“Mom, I am still alive.” I said. “I am still alive...” I repeated quietly collapsing against the wall and slowly sliding down until I was sitting on the floor surrounded by Legos and shards of glass. “I am still alive.” I said dropping my head onto my knees. “I am still alive..."
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