When things seem to work out
He's pale and too thin. Since his father had left, his state had become worse. He doesn't talk to me anymore at our Sudoku matches. He's barely talking anyway.
"Hey Ry, I don't know whether you've noticed but it's Friday, so I just wanted to ask whether you have some plans for today." My son asks his friend, my boy – our boy, our felt son.
"Uh…yes. Marissa and I wanted to go out after school. Her flight to Paris goes tonight."
"Oh, oh. Six weeks without Marissa. How did you plan to survive this?" My son jokes on. Ryan's expression tells me: for him it's not funny at all.
"Shut up, Seth." He replies. I can't stand his moods anymore. But what can I do? If I start to talk about it, he apologizes and disappears in the pool house – not been seen for the rest of the day.
"Okay man, everybody is grumpy sometimes, but would you mind to vent your spleen on the person who is the reason for it and not on us." My son replies. Usually he was the only one who could talk like that to Ryan, but not anymore.
"Sorry." Ryan answers and goes off. I sigh.
"What's wrong with him?" My son asks me. He worries. We all do.
"I don't know."
"I have no idea how you think about this, but in my opinion the use of happy pills doesn't seem as such bad idea." He tells me and goes to school too. Honestly: I have thought about that myself.
In the evening both my boys are home. Ryan even seems to be more depressed.
"Everything okay between you and Marissa?" I ask him. He nods. He's not looking at me, neither at Sandy.
"Don't worry. These six weeks will pass by in no matter of time. And I'm sure you don't have to worry about Marissa. Maybe these six weeks bring you even closer together." I want to cheer him up a little. Without Marissa there's no person he can open up to when he doesn't feel too well.
"Can…can she come by, this evening?" He asks me. He still doesn't consider his place as home. He still asks before doing anything. Seth didn't even ask me, whether Summer can stay over night. He takes his home as granted – not does Ryan.
"She can, but I want you to sit down first and talk to me." I take the chance this situation offers me. He sits down at the dinner table and I sit down across from him.
"I know that you're sad about your father's decision. But you can't punish us for that. Believe me if it was in my power to change the situation I'd do so. But I can't – we can't." I try to get some sense back into the boy.
"Sorry." He answers and I have to brace myself not to scream into his face that I don't want to hear this word from his mouth again. He shell stop blaming himself for everything and start to live.
"Ryan I…don't want to hear your apology. I want you to start to live again. I haven't forgotten the boy who came here first and turned our life upside down. I miss this boy and you can't ask me to watch this any longer. If you don't start to…pull yourself together we have to take measures and I can't promise you'll like them." I never would talk to my son that way. But sometimes I have to treat Ryan like he was a young child. I think it's because he never had been one – he never had been treated that way.
"And how?" He asks me.
"Just start to have fun again."
"Oh…can you start this ultimatum when these six weeks are over?" He asks with a lopsided smile.
"Oh no, you can also have fun with Seth and his Ninja games. Despite as far as I know Summer is going to France too, so six weeks only you and him. You should enjoy this free time."
"Oh yes, videogames until late night, no love story – but a Bruce Willis movie, rough parties and flirting with other girls. Yummy." I slap his arm, but his grin tells me: he's only joking and I'm glad he hasn't lost his sense for jokes. Maybe he only needs someone who tells him to live once in a while, because when he leaves for the pool house, he's still smiling.
The evening is vivid. Both girls came for dinner and now all four are in the pool house and do…probably what we have done in this age. So I don't want too disturb them. I only hear some laughter once in a while and sometimes it seemed as if even Ryan laughs a little.
My husband and I enjoy the time we can spend alone together in front of the TV. We both had a rough day and are only looking forward the weekend. Thanks God it's Friday. We watch the news. I don't like to. Since Monday they report on several attacks in Iraq which forced several US-soldiers death. I always prey it's not his father's picture coming up on the screen. I can understand that he didn't take it well, when his father told him he was going to war.
"A new attack shocked Bagdad today. While a routine mission, two manned cars of the US-Army fall victim to a bomb attack that forced two more death in the history of the Iraq-crisis." I lookat my husband. He shakes his head, telling me not to worry. Maybe I'm really paranoid.
"The state grieves for Robert Mason and Frank T. Atwood." I close my eyes. I hear glass shatter. Immediately I turn around. There couldn't have been a worse point of time for him to come in. He's frozen in his tracks. No motion. I can see his chest is moving up and down, he's breathing heavily. He doesn't look at one of us.
"Ryan…"I say. But my mind is blank. I'm in shock and when I look at my husband I see, he's either.
"Ryan, don't run away." My husband says. There's no reaction in the boy. He only stands there.
"Ryan, did you listen to me?" My husband asks him. In a sudden Ryan turns around and runs. Where? I have no idea. I … can't think of anything despite: how is he supposed to come over this? This definitely is too much for a boy in his age. I watch my husband running after Ryan, calling out his name. My son and the two girls step in.
"Mum…what happened?" My son asks looking at the shattered glass on the floor. I shook my head.
"His…father died in the war…today. It…was in the news." I say. I have to pull myself together again. I can't lose hope now. The boy needs me.
"Oh my God!" Marissa calls out. Her face only shock. "Where is he?" She asks me. I can see she had tears in her eyes.
"I don't know. I hope Sandy catches him, before he does something stupid."
"Mum…do you…do you think, we can get Ryan through this?" My son asks me. I can't tell him. It was hard enough to get him through the last months. I doubt Ryan will get through this unharmed. It's just too much.
"We have to." I only answer. My head switches into an automatism. We have to react to help him through this. We need to prevent any further damage. We have to hold him tight now otherwise he falls apart.
"Seth, go and make up the third bedroom upstairs. Summer can give you a hand with it until she has to leave."
"Mum…why?"
"I want Ryan in the house twenty four hours. I don't want him run again and inflict more damage to what is already done to him." I answer. I'm acting like a machine now. This was the last thing we could need, but now it was there and we had to come over this crisis.
"Mrs. Cohen…is…there anything I can do?" Marissa asks me.
"Let's wait and hope Sandy finds Ryan and then we'll see." I answer. I go to the stove, take the kettle and spoil the water for some tea. We all will need one. I hear the front door shut. Ryan enters the kitchen, guided by my husband's hands.
"Oh God." I say and take the boy into my arms. I'm glad he didn't manage to run this time. I'm sure this time it would have ended in more trouble than usually. He fights me embrace and I let off of him.
"Coop, we should go. We have to be at the airport at…"Summer and my son join us.
"Ryan, I don't have to go. If you want me to, I stay." Marissa says.
"No…you…should go. You were looking forward this trip for so long." He answers. He never would even admit, when he wanted her to stay. He's too afraid of making others unhappy with his wishes and desires that he's forgetting himself.
"But…" She wants to convince him that he needs her. But I see in his eyes he only wants to be alone.
"Can you do me this favour? I…don't want anyone around and this…can last a few days."
"Okay, I think of you everyday." She embraces him and he responds her embrace. I'm envious. Why didn't he embrace me?
"Sent me a postcard." He says and kisses her onto the top of her head.
"I'll write you an e-mail, everyday."
"I'd rather liked postcards. I never got one." He states sadly. As if this matters right now. For him it matters. He never had received one and now there was someone who would send him one.
"Okay, everyday one." They kiss goodbye.
When the girls are gone, Ryan heads for the pool house.
"Oh no. You stay in the house." I say to him. My husband looks at me. He understands.
"What? Why?" He doesn't sound too happy about this change.
"I want you as close as possible, thus we can be sure that you don't run and do something stupid." I answer him. His face darkens.
"I'm not running." It hurts to realize he doesn't want to live with us – or better doesn't want to be close to us.
"That's what you tell us now." My husband steps in.
"Hell, I just want to…get some rest okay?! It's not like this massage passes me…without anything. I mean…my Dad died. I'll never see him again, what means after ten years the last weeks had been the last in which I've been able to see him and talk to him!" He screams. No, I didn't expect that. Usually it takes him a little longer until he walks postal. But these are exceptional circumstances.
"Ryan, we know that this is really hard for you. We only want to be there for you, to…help you in this. But you need to trust us." I try to convince him. He says nothing but slumps down on one of the stools, hiding his face in his hands.
"How long?" He asks defeated.
"As long as necessary." I say. My husband and I go to him, both rubbing his back comfortingly. Now he needs to know we're there for him. He not only needs to know, but he also needs to feel it. He needs to feel that he's not alone.
"Kid, we get you through this. But you need to let us help you this time. This is too huge for you to deal with it on your own." My husband says.
"Can I get some stuff out of the pool house, so that I don't have to walk through the whole house, when I need something?" He asks. He's defeated. Maybe our chance to bond with him. Our chance to make him trust us. Damn, how selfish am I? I'll make use of the situation only to get a closer relationship to him? But I'm sad too. Now there's nobody left for the boy. If we weren't there…he…he… I'm afraid to lose him through this. He's already struggling too hard with other things and we all know that Ryan draws back, instead of asking for help – getting closer to those who are there for him.
"Of course you can. Ryan, we don't do this to hurt you…but…because we love you." I say to him. I don't know whether I ever told him that or if it was the right point of time to tell him.
"Thanks." He whispers and then he goes to get some things out of the pool house.
"Hey, you move in now, hu? Need any help?" My son asks him.
"No, thanks." Ryan answers, his arms full of things he needs.
"And…how do you feel?" Ryan only shrugs his shoulders. "I know this sounds really lame, but…I'm really sorry for…you know. And if you want to talk about it or anything, you can always come to me. I'm not only a good talker."
"Thanks. Besides, if you ever wake me in the middle of the night, I swear I'll clobber you with a pillow."
"Nah, I don't think so. Mum bought these super soft pillows."