Chapter 8 edited

Psychedelic Hollow

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

Funeral. Of course! Why didn't Frank and I think of it yesterday? But I'm too late now… he's not at the any of the cemeteries.

Joe drove down the roads of Port City, keeping an eye out for Justin. He empathized with Justin's guilt, recognizing the kindred sentiments within himself. He had drowned in the same aura of desperation about eight years ago. The thread of innocence snapped when his world was reduced to ashes by a mushrooming explosion that blazed for a longer time in his soul, razing his entire being. And it devoured everything around and within him until the concern from his relentless loved ones finally breached the walls of fire he surrounded himself with, cooling his anger and grief with loving tenderness. Vanessa and Frank had been a huge part of his recovery from a depression that manifested itself in the form of anger and recklessness. Sure, his heart was in all the right places when he hunted down criminals heedlessly many years ago. In all the right places, he thought as his lips stretched thin with the remembrance of Iola, All except one.

Vengeance.

He recalled the early days following Iola's death- the endless days and eternal nights. It didn't matter where he was; he just wanted to be as close to her as possible. One night, Frank even found him sleeping by her grave after a harried search. Those were the days when he couldn't even bear to be himself and hated his very own skin. Those were the days when his family's love for him was put to the test and succeeded most triumphantly. Those were the days when he found a courage in him that he never knew he had, a courage that guided him to survive the wreckage of the explosion, the ruins of his marriage and the rubbles that was his life before.

A courage to heal and leave the tragic past behind- stronger and wiser, a victorious survivor.

It was when he was circling Port City for the third time that he realized he had neglected to call Frank. Frank might worry, but he doubted it. Maybe, after seven years of absence, Frank might finally recognize that Joe was all grown up- that he didn't need to baby Joe anymore nor compromise parts of his life to watch over his kid brother.

His lips curled faintly. We are brothers, he thought, United but distinct.

God help me if he's like Conrad, man…

Before he could pull over and make a quick call to report his actions back to his boss cum Nanny, his cell phone rang. Stopping the Land Rover by the curb, he answered the call.

"Hey, I was about to call you…"

"Right…" Frank's wry reply spoke volumes about his faith in him to finally be responsible enough to report his safety, "If I never call, I think it'll be tomorrow before I know if you have found Justin."

 You may as well say 'If you're all right and alive. Now that I know, I can take another breath.'

Joe bit his lower lip, feeling the mild sensation of ire rising up his throat. He didn't begrudge his brother's concern for him but the call was really no big deal- he didn't understand why Frank couldn't just let go of the protective streak. Even their parents had long demolished the shield they surrounded him with.

Looks like he doesn't know I don't really need that much concern yet.

"Look, I have already been to Port City Presbyterian Cemetery but there's no sign of him. I'm still there… here… whatever… now." Joe looked around him and shrugged, "I'll circle a while more. Maybe visit the church again."

"Hmm, you shouldn't be driving for a prolonged time. I'll come over and help you search, all right?"

"Frank…" Joe dragged, "I can already jam brake without discomfort to my wounds. And I'm really, really okay."

"I am not, well, forget it…" Frank sighed and Joe smiled, relieved for he knew Frank caught the message that he had so blatantly put across. Right now, he would just listen to how Frank twist his entire intention into another motive which could justify his earlier request just as well, "I guess I just wanted to come find Justin before he hitches a ride out of Port City or something."

Smooth, bro. Hitches… hmm… what if Justin didn't have the money to return back to Bayport? He would be looking for a ride…

"Frank… let me go check out something first. I'll be back to tell you if I need help soon."

"Aren't we partners, Joe? And you… well… ahm…" Frank's voice grew smaller and much more cautious, "You really shouldn't be driving too much. There! I said it! I don't care, Joe. It's barely a couple of months since the operation… "

"Do we have to go through this again? I won't exert myself, all right? When my healed wounds suddenly split open, become infested with blood spurting out and all the gore and pus…I'll call you."

"Joe…" Frank drawled in annoyance.

"Frank…" Joe echoed Frank's sentiments back perfectly.

"All right. Have it your way. Bye. Call me when the gore and the pus… you know."

"I know." Joe, despite his bravado, shuddered at the gruesome imagery, "Bye!"

He clicked the call away and threw his cell on the passenger seat before making a three-point turn towards the direction of Bayport. About an hour later, he arrived at a rest pit just next to the winding road which would lead out of Port City, through the woods, and into Bayport. Stepping inside the decent, white-washed 24 hours diner, he surveyed the place keenly and spotted a young man whose face was buried in his hands as he slumped over the table, merging with the shadows overlapping the corner booth. The filthy brown hair, now encrusted with more dirt than possible, ascertained the person's identity for Joe. Striding up, he slipped into the seat opposite Justin and roused the sleeping young man.

"Hey, wake up."

"Wha… what are you doing here?" Justin lifted his head up, his bleary eyes instantly alert after recognizing Joe. Sitting up with some struggle, he rubbed away the coagulated sleep and scratched his hair violently, reaching for the cup in front of him only to throw a dirty look when he realized it was emptied, stained with the brown muck of leftover coffee left standing for too long.

He nodded at Joe, frowning suspiciously, "You followed me?"

"No. I guessed you'll be here. If I had followed you, I'll have found you a long time ago." Joe called for the waitress. "Been here the whole night?"

The kid nodded, slumping over the table again, his vacant eyes staring into empty space.

"Ate anything?"

"No. You buying me food?" Justin hungry eyes darted to the large, fluorescent menu behind the counter, "I don't mind a burger."

"You sure don't stand on ceremony." Joe groused, "A please will be appreciated, you know."

"Aw, crap with the lecture. I had enough from my bro."

Joe shook his head at the insipid youth. The waitress came and without much thought, he ordered a deluxe burger set and a chicken salad. They sat in silence until the order arrived. Justin eyed his order curiously, "You going to eat that crap?"

"Yes. I am. I have no choice. Finish your food."

"Why no choice?"

Enough twenty questions! I'm already exhausted answering Hallie's. God!

"Because I was injured in a shoot out. My pancreas' half gone and I don't have a spleen anymore. I am going to be diabetic if I don't watch what I eat." Joe rattled off the naggings of Frank and his mother which were already ingrained in each and every cell of his body. Strangely, Fenton, the disciplinarian, had been pretty relaxed on him, trusting him to do the right thing.

"No shit!"

"Yes, shit. Almost saw Christ." Joe mumbled, stabbing listlessly into the salad before deciding that it was really the closest thing to defecation he could find. He gulped down some water before pushing the salad aside as Justin wolfed down his burger rapaciously, occasionally breaking for a long, satisfying sip of coke.

"Want some fries?" Justin stopped eating, looking at Joe with some sympathy, "I got a skinny body. Don't need to eat so much."

"No, you take them."

"Ok. I offered." Justin devoured those crispy, fatty, salty, oily, delicious, absolutely tempting junk cholesterol and calories as Joe watched, trying to be disaffected.

"Oh, I'll have one."

"One will be two will be three. It's like those pills, you know." Justin snatched the basket up from the table, "I changed my mind about the offer. If you become diabetic and fall dead in front of me, I'm going to shoot myself."

"I won't die in front of you. I just want a fry and I can eat it in moderation!" Joe reached across the table for the fries. Seeing his persistency, Justin stuffed everything in his mouth before Joe could even touch the basket.

"Hey! I paid for it!"

"Yah…" Justin raised a hand as he tried to gobble everything down without choking. He swallowed hard one final time before setting down the empty basket onto the table, leaving barely even a crumb. "But you also told me about the pancreas and spleen crap. Connie's going to kill me if anything happen to you. He's always talking about how the Frank Hardy turned him around and stuff like that."

"I'm Joe Hardy." Joe growled, sinking into his seat.

"Right. The one who knocked up some babe after causing the death of another girl."

Joe sat up straighter, "Conrad told you that?"

"Nay, not Connie. Town gossip. You Hardys were famous. Everyone wants some dirt."

"The town said that?" Joe was even more incredulous, "What else did the town say?"

"That you knock up the girl and forced her to go for an abortion. She wouldn't. Then you had a change of heart and asked her to leave her mother to elope with you. Basically, things didn't work out. They said you hit your wife and ruin her life. I know it's not true… some old hags don't know what they're talking about…" Justin gave him a once over, "I think you're cool though. You bought me food."

"I didn't know…" Joe felt a sense of betrayal by his hometown. He knew there were sure to be colored views and people who couldn't see beyond the distance of their pointed fingers. But he didn't know the gossips were so rampant and pestilential- his mother, a member of quite a number of social clubs in Bayport, must have been at the receiving end… .

No, not only mom… but dad, Frank… damn! Everyone who cares about me!

"Did you kill your first girlfriend?" Justin asked out of the blue, his vapid eyes now haunted with guilt and the need for absolution, "How did it feel like?"

Joe snapped his head back to Justin, taken aback by the question that stirred up emotions and memories lying under broken glass for a long time. He had healed from the wounds but the scars remained and sometimes, they throbbed.

"I…" Joe cast his sight onto the table and grabbed the glass of water, drinking from it thirstily.

"You feel like killing yourself because it hurt so bad? I do."

"You know something, Justin? It felt terrible. Heard of survivor's guilt?"

"No. some new mental disease?"

"No…" Joe smiled at the kid benignly, "My first girlfriend died in a bomb explosion meant for me."

"Oh… an accident then…"

"After I ignored her because I was flirting with another girl. She asked me to help her get some pamphlets from my car but I told her to go while I was making moves on someone else." Joe sucked in a deep breath, "She stormed away to my car, opened the door, triggered the bomb and was vaporized."

"Vaporized?"

"Nothing left of her to bury." Joe explained, trying hard to swallow the hard, bitter lump in his throat.

"Oh." Justin's eyes hooded over again, "It's still an accident. A freakish one but… not your fault. I thought you set the bomb on her or something."

"And what about you?"

"Me?" Justin sipped his coke distractedly, "I don't know. I just wish I haven't brought Kimberly to the rave. She was curious about it too… and I thought if I'm there, no harm done. My bro's right. Drugs ain't worth it. If I hadn't been high, I might have spotted something was wrong with Kim and maybe get her to vomit out whatever she took or something… maybe…" He mussed up his hair again as his breathing turned ragged then suddenly, stilled. "Maybe she'll be here… you know. I really love her, man. But I don't even the guts to go to her grave and I don't have the money to take a bus back. She must be laughing at how pathetic I am."

"She loves you. She won't be laughing. She will be holding you when you cry for her." Joe dropped his tone, recalling Justin's admission of suicidal tendencies, "And she'll be heartbroken if you choose to end your life."

"How do you know?"

"Those who love us will only want the best for us, not destruction or evil. Conrad will be extremely sad too and who knows when the cycle will end? It's hard, I know. I can understand how you must be feeling because I felt the same way too. But when times are tough, like these, we must be even braver and more hopeful… and persevere. You get what I mean? You'll be smiling again. If you end it, then not only will you die most unjustly, those who love you will also be stricken with the weight of your death. Give yourself a break and some chance, will you?"

Justin eyed him guardedly before his face fell, "I wish my bro talk like this to me. I tell him I going to kill myself, he'll dunk my head in water before beating the crap out of me. Then we'll both cry but it's a bit too late for apologies."

"I know he wish it too. But he has issues of his own as well. Just know this, okay? He loves you very much and practically offered my brother his entire savings to look into this case for you. And he hates to beg. He begged not only my brother but me, for your sake. He just didn't know what to do. He has to be your mother, your father and your brother. It's a responsibility that can kill anyone but he's bearing it the best he could, the way he knows how, misguided as it is. Maybe you can have a talk with him, tell him to stop hitting you. Conrad is not unreasonable. He hates himself for treating you the way he did. The both of you can work this out, definitely, and forgive each other's failures. And I sure know he blames himself for your state now." Joe pushed Justin's chin up so Justin was facing him eye to eye, "You ain't a bad chap, maybe just misled. And we're doing all we can to help you but you must help us too."

Justin blinked, clearing his eyes of tears. He rubbed his eyes hard before inhaling deeply. "The rave party was by word of mouth thingy. I don't know who set it up only that it's at warehouse No. 13 every Friday night at Bayport Industrial Park. Sometimes the warehouse changes but it's almost always there. Anyone who knows can go. There's always two sides- a tamer side for causal goers and a closed door party for insiders. I'm not an insider but Colin is. He gets me the drugs and stuff."

"You didn't tell the police because you're afraid that Colin will be implicated?"

"Colin's my best buddy. He doesn't always have the right solution to everything but at least I feel like I can be myself in front of him. Even Kimberly can't give me that freedom to be myself because I'm scared I'll lose her if she knew I'm such a loser. For all his bad points, Colin doesn't judge people." Justin looked at Joe intently, "Colin's cool."

"Did Colin give you the ecstasy pills?"

"Yes."

"Then he's not that cool. Friends don't give drugs to friends."

"He buys the fashion drugs, I buy the usual hardcore stuff. We split money and share these things though since he's richer, he buys more… It's not totally his fault too. I'm not like the unknowing, gullible friend. We are in this together."

Joe watched Justin carefully- he was taking responsibility for all that he had done, not laying the blame on Colin or even Conrad. He could have easily ranted at Conrad's past crimes and vices as heavily influencing his choices but he did not. For that, he gave Justin props. Everyone make their choices. There would be influences but God gave everyone freewill to choose, a heart to feel, a mind to think and a conscience to guide.

And of course, courage and strength to admit one's mistakes and make amends.

"And now?" He asked quietly, "What do you think of all these now?"

Justin averted his gaze and rubbed the sides of the disposable cup, "I just want her back. I wish I have never touched the shit. Those darn drugs. But I'm hooked… you know."

"Honor her death then, by going clean and starting afresh. Bayport's Helping Hands is a good rehab."

"You think I can?" Justin looked up, searching Joe's eyes for a vote of confidence, "Start afresh? You think she'll forgive me?"

Joe smiled at the kid, nodding supportively. "Yes. As long as you believe in yourself and give yourself the chance, you can."

The younger man's eyes glazed over as he pressed the back of his hands, propped up against the table by the elbows, against his forehead.

"And Justin?"

"Yah?" His voice was breaking and the single consonant sounded squeezed from his heart.

Joe leaned forward and, bearing the image of Iola's pixie and eternally youthful mien in his soul. He needed to say what he was going to say next, not only for Justin but for himself.

"She has already forgiven all there is to be forgiven, because of love."

Justin uncovered his face, his lips twitching as if to say something. Instead, his right palm flew to cover his eyes as he turned away, his thin shoulders shook with the violence of tears.