13.
Sunday came and went, without Takeru the day was slow and useless. I lived for the call he made to me that night. We spoke for hours. I reminded him to take care of himself at school tomorrow and he promised he would then he hung up. If I'd known what would happen I would've forced him to stay on the phone just a little bit longer. But how could I have known? No matter how good I was to Takeru I could not see everything and so there was nothing to do. I just sat the phone back down on it's holder and went into the living room to practice. The glass still littered the floor, and I did not bother picking it up. My guitar was still in the club so I had to resort to the harmonica.
I should've known that placing my lips on the ruddy thing would bring back memories again, but I hadn't even thought about it. The next morning passed with the speed of a turtle with peanut butter on it's feet, it slowly turned into afternoon. I caught myself eying the clock every few minutes. Was he home yet? I couldn't have known that at the same time I was checking the clock Takeru was sitting up in the nurses office with a bloodied nose, a black eye and quite possibly a few broken ribs. I couldn't see that while I was sweeping up the remains of the Grandfather Clock, he was under an X-Ray. And I certainly couldn't have known why all that was.
Finally I couldn't take it out more I grabbed the phone out of the hallway and pushed in Takeru's number. It was a number I used to call often. Back when I thought that maybe someday Mom would care about me. That maybe if I just tried to show myself to her she would take me in. But that was back when I was young and stupid. Now I knew, that no matter what I did Mother would never love me. And honestly...I was over it, although T.K. wasn't. The phone line rang on the other side, just as the answering machine was about to pickup a out of breath Mom lifted the receiver.
"Hello?" She questioned, I swallowed my annoyance and put on a tone of politeness.
"Hey Mom, is T.K. home yet?" I asked. She sighed louder than she had to into the speaker and then muttered something I couldn't quite understand. I could almost see her placing her hand over the receiver as she yelled, "Takeru! Yamato's on the phone!". I could still remember how he used to come running whenever I came over when we were younger. He'd push right past my mother to get to me, hugging my legs tightly. Even then I suppose Takeru had a way of loving that nobody else did.
"Do you want me to bring you the phone!?" She yelled again, I winced against the sound. I think I could hear his reply almost as well as my Mother could although I seriously doubt I was as happy as she was to hear it.
"No, I don't want to talk to him." Came T.K.'s voice, he was a distance away. In my mind I saw him standing at the top of a staircase yelling down to our Mother.
"He doesn't want to talk to you, goodbye." And with that my Mother for the first time in her life broke my heart. I set the phone down on it's holder and sat down in the hallway. I didn't cry. My brain couldn't even process what had just happened. What had I done?
Sunday came and went, without Takeru the day was slow and useless. I lived for the call he made to me that night. We spoke for hours. I reminded him to take care of himself at school tomorrow and he promised he would then he hung up. If I'd known what would happen I would've forced him to stay on the phone just a little bit longer. But how could I have known? No matter how good I was to Takeru I could not see everything and so there was nothing to do. I just sat the phone back down on it's holder and went into the living room to practice. The glass still littered the floor, and I did not bother picking it up. My guitar was still in the club so I had to resort to the harmonica.
I should've known that placing my lips on the ruddy thing would bring back memories again, but I hadn't even thought about it. The next morning passed with the speed of a turtle with peanut butter on it's feet, it slowly turned into afternoon. I caught myself eying the clock every few minutes. Was he home yet? I couldn't have known that at the same time I was checking the clock Takeru was sitting up in the nurses office with a bloodied nose, a black eye and quite possibly a few broken ribs. I couldn't see that while I was sweeping up the remains of the Grandfather Clock, he was under an X-Ray. And I certainly couldn't have known why all that was.
Finally I couldn't take it out more I grabbed the phone out of the hallway and pushed in Takeru's number. It was a number I used to call often. Back when I thought that maybe someday Mom would care about me. That maybe if I just tried to show myself to her she would take me in. But that was back when I was young and stupid. Now I knew, that no matter what I did Mother would never love me. And honestly...I was over it, although T.K. wasn't. The phone line rang on the other side, just as the answering machine was about to pickup a out of breath Mom lifted the receiver.
"Hello?" She questioned, I swallowed my annoyance and put on a tone of politeness.
"Hey Mom, is T.K. home yet?" I asked. She sighed louder than she had to into the speaker and then muttered something I couldn't quite understand. I could almost see her placing her hand over the receiver as she yelled, "Takeru! Yamato's on the phone!". I could still remember how he used to come running whenever I came over when we were younger. He'd push right past my mother to get to me, hugging my legs tightly. Even then I suppose Takeru had a way of loving that nobody else did.
"Do you want me to bring you the phone!?" She yelled again, I winced against the sound. I think I could hear his reply almost as well as my Mother could although I seriously doubt I was as happy as she was to hear it.
"No, I don't want to talk to him." Came T.K.'s voice, he was a distance away. In my mind I saw him standing at the top of a staircase yelling down to our Mother.
"He doesn't want to talk to you, goodbye." And with that my Mother for the first time in her life broke my heart. I set the phone down on it's holder and sat down in the hallway. I didn't cry. My brain couldn't even process what had just happened. What had I done?