Windscreen

“Wake up!” Luke yelled. My step-dad was angry. It glinted in his eyes and his hands were fisted at his sides.

I glanced at the clock, it was well after midnight. My mom was at work.

“What?” I asked rubbing at my eyes.

“There’s someone in the driveway. That boyfriend of yours.”

“Will?”

“No, the other one.”

I crawled out of bed, slid on sandals, pulled on track pants over my boxers, and peered through the window. Jonah’s blazer sat in the driveway. The windscreen was a mass of fractured glass.

I dashed down the stairs and out the front door. Luke went back to his Lazy-boy.

Jonah was slumped over the steering wheel shaking. The windows were down and he looked up when he heard my feet crunching on the gravel. Dry rivers etched his smooth cheeks. Splintered spider webs of glass replaced the windshield and fist size dents pepper the body of the car.

“Brig, I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“It’s okay. What happened?” I asked.

Jonah began bawling. His body rocked with each sob. I opened the driver’s door and put my arms around him. In time, he returned the embrace.

“I saw her… she was fucking someone else… I walked in on them… they didn’t even notice me…” he said between gasps of breath.

“Come, let’s sit on the porch,” I said.

Jonah stumbled out of the car and clung to me as we walked. My parents owned a large Victorian house with an expansive front porch. Jonah laid across the swing with his head in my lap. It was the summer of 1993 and the night was warm.

“Melanie’s parents were out of town,” Jonah said. “So I thought I would surprise her. I walked in on them. I should have known. I’m so fucking stupid.”

“Hey! Cut that shit out.” I said cuffing his shoulder.

“I’ve seen him before. They’ve been hanging out a lot lately. I don’t even know his name.”

“Would knowing his name make it any better?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I walked out of the house and just sat there on the lawn. What the fuck was I thinking? Anyway, they came outside later and saw me sitting there like a dumb ass. He started yelling me. I didn’t know what to say. He started shoving me, telling me to leave, but I just stood there staring at her. How could she do this to me?”

We sat in silence. His breath became less ragged and he sat up. His sapphire eyes were now grey.

“Jonah, what happened to your windscreen?” I asked.

He laughed. “Windscreen, you’re funny.”

“Why’s that?”

“No more Depeche Mode for you.”

“Fine, I’m cut off. But what happened?”

“He did it. That asshole took a baseball bat to my fucking car. He threatened to kill me.”

“Did you call the police?”

“No. Why would they care about me? I’m just some kid who got fucked over by a girlfriend.”

“Jonah, you should’ve called.”

“Brigid the Avenger.”

“Write a comic book about me some day. What are you going to do now?”

“Get over it… Pray that I never see him again.”

We fell asleep on the swing. Nestled in his arms, safety overwhelmed me. The light summer’s breeze rocked us like a maternal hand rocking a cradle. We woke before dawn and watched the sunrise: a slice of orange cutting through the dark shroud, warming the day and stinging the eyes.

Photo: WhatNoobsAreWe