Part Fifty-Nine: Kenyatta Happened

Kenyatta has been hitting Mandy. Mandy is my best friend, I will not stand to see anyone hurt her. I have been walking by the Milkovich house all day, debating on whether or not to go in and confront him. Mickey is at work and Mandy is asleep in my house.

"What's up, Ian?" Ryan asks stepping onto the porch with his coat on. I run up on the porch and pull him into a hug.

"Ryan, it's good to see you. You know, we should hang out more," I tell him.

"Yeah, where's Mick?"

"Oh, he's at work, but you and I can hang out right?" I ask.

"Sure," Ryan says.

"Great. Let's do it."

"Right now?"

"Do you have somewhere to be? Sorry, I'm being rude."

"No, I was just going to stalk the girl who works at the used book store," Ryan says.

"You have a crush on her?" I ask bouncing on the balls of my feet. I can see over the top of Ryan's head. He's as short as Mickey.

"Something like that," Ryan says awkwardly. He pauses for a moment, "You can come if you want."

I take him up on it. I talk about all the things I want to do. I mention that when spring comes I am signing up for sky diving lessons, and how I want to get an actual driver's license. Ryan's a good listener. He doesn't respond much, but he listens.

"There she is," says Ryan holding out his arm to stop me. I peak inside the store and see a young woman with dark haired pulled back in a ponytail. She's a nose ring and she has pink tips in her hair. "I come here every day to see her."

"Do you ever go inside?" I ask.

"Are you crazy? I can't do that," says Ryan.

"Why not?"

"Because like Mickey, I too am a huge pussy," Ryan says.

"Mickey's not a pussy," I tell Ryan, I give him a nudge. "Come on, let's talk to her."

"No. Ian, no."

Too late, I walk through the door. The girl smiles at me for a moment. I can tell it's one of those smiles that cashier's give people because they have to and not because they want to. I look behind me to see Ryan has followed me inside. He stays close to me. I nudge him.

"Talk to her," I whisper.

"Fuck you," Ryan whispers.

"Fine," I say, turning around and walking to the register. I lean on it. "Hey," I say. She smiles at me for a second. Her name tag says her name is Penelope. "Do you have any books on cats?"

"Domestic or wild?"

"Domestic, I'm thinking of getting one," I tell her. She leads me to the section on animals. I nod for Ryan to follow us. While I browse the cat books I see Ryan follow her around. He finally works up the nerve to say hello, then runs out the door. I leave the book where I find it and follow him. "What the hell was that?"

"I might have said something inappropriate," Ryan says, refusing to look at me. I find his line of vision and follow it to get him to look right at me. "I said, 'hey, I like your boob' and then bolted."

My jaw hits the floor. I am surprised she didn't smack him.

"I don't think you should go back in there, ever," I suggest.

"Don't tell Mickey about this, he'll never stop laughing."

"You should spend more time with my brother Lip."

"What do we do now? Stalking Penelope was a bust," says Ryan.

"Whose fault is that?"

"Yours," Ryan says with a smile.

"We could go to the Alibi and see Mickey," I say.

"Lead the way," Ryan says.

Mickey is yelling at his whores when we walk in. Mickey looks less than thrilled to see me. He pushes past her to walk up to us. He looks at and directs his attention to Ryan.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" He asks about me when I'm standing right beside him. Kev and Tommy are at the bar looking at us.

"So what? Here in front of all our friends and neighbors I don't matter to you? I don't mean anything? I'm fucking nothing."

I get silence from Mickey. He won't even look at me. She is smiling like she won. I shove Mickey and turn around and leave. "Fuck you."

I hear someone behind me in the snow; I expect it to be Mickey coming after me, but its Ryan. He stops to catch his breath. He doubles over heaving. I wait.

"Mickey doesn't want people to know, Ian."

"So I'm a fucking secret?"

"Well no, I wouldn't call this a secret; it's pretty obvious that something is going on between you and that you're more than friends."

"But?"

"But, Mickey needs to maintain that he is straight."

I've heard enough. I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to be just Mickey's little secret. I don't want to be his mistress. I don't want it. If we can't be together openly then we shouldn't be together. Maybe he doesn't even think we're together.

We're not a couple. I fabricated the whole relationship again. I always do that. I always make it out to be more than it is. I don't know why I do that. I leave Ryan standing there. I should let Mickey off the hook. He doesn't need me, and he obviously doesn't want me. I'm a burden. I am getting in the way of his "straight" life.

"Where are you going?"

I don't answer. I just walk. I pull my jacket tighter around me and zip it. It's cold today. I'd say it about 12 degrees but it feels like 7. I walk home barely able to feel my lips. I slam the door shut. Debbie tells me they found Fiona. She's in Wisconsin. Lip has gone to get her.

I lie down on my bed and stare at the ceiling. If Mickey doesn't want me I should let him go. What's the point in staying in a relationship with someone who doesn't love me? But lying in my bed doesn't help. I need to move. I need to do something.

I go downstairs and start cleaning. I tidy up after Carl's friends, I grab a rag and begin dusting all the furniture and shelves. By the time I am vacuuming Mickey has returned. He's angry about something.

"I want to talk to you," Mickey says to me. I turn the vacuum back on and use it on the couch. I ignore Mickey. He unplugs it from the wall. "You can't just barge into the Alibi and expect me to treat you like a…like a…"

"Like a what?" I wait.

"I'm married. I need to maintain that."

"Then what the fuck am I to you, Mickey?"

"Don't start this right now, Jesus fucking Christ."

"Get the fuck out of my house," I tell him.

"Whoa, hold on. Look, I can see I upset you. But you're going to have to meet me half way on this. I need you on my side."

"You need me?"

"If that's what you took from that, sure."

I think it over. Meeting Mickey half-way is what I've always done in our relationship. I'm getting really fucking sick of it. I hate not being able to be with him in front of people we know outside my family. I hate having to pretend we're just friends.

No. I can't meet him half-way anymore. I need more. I need to be openly with Mickey or nothing. It's all or nothing. I'm tired of living a lie. I'm tired of taking a backseat to his wife's spoiled demands and smugness.

"Do you want me or not?" I ask.

"Why are you doing this today? I'm not in the mood. Kev pointed a gun at me. "

"What?" I ask momentarily distracted.

"Yeah, so now I'm going to have to kill him."

"Yeah right. What you're going to go over to his house and kill him?"

"No, I'm going to my house, I'm going to get my brothers and some guns then I'm going to kill him."

"Kev is a friend."

"When someone points a gun at me they're not my friend. I'm kind of funny like that."

"Oh, Mickey, come the fuck on," I say walking into the kitchen.

"Okay, Tough guy," says Mickey. He walks out the door. I follow him to beg him not to hurt Kev. Kev means a lot to me. Mickey is determined.

I follow him all the way to his house. We stop in the living room when we see Mandy cooking spaghetti for Kenyatta. I block everything else out. It's as if I can't get the image of Kenyatta hitting her out of my head. I just see it on a reel playing over and over.

He's sitting at their kitchen table looking smug and satisfied when Mandy lies through her teeth; she claims he didn't hit her that she just fell.

"Okay, clumsy feet, enjoy your fucking spaghetti," Mickey says walking past her to his bedroom. I stay in the living room.

I walk past Kenyatta into the kitchen and touch Mandy's arm. I try to get her to leave with me. I want to take her somewhere safe, but she just won't come with me. She slaps me. I fight with her. Kenyatta intervenes.

My blood boils. I want him dead. I want to fucking kill him. He deserves to die for killing Mandy. But I don't remember grabbing the knife I'm holding to his neck. I could do it; I could jam it in his neck. My hand won't move. I feel myself shaking from head to toe and out of the corner of my eye I spot Mickey.

"Ian," says Mickey, "it's alright. We're cool."

He takes the knife from my hand. Kenyatta pushes me away. I run out the door. Mickey follows me. I grab hold of the fence outside their house and cling to it as I try to catch my breath. It's so cold out here and I feel choked.

"Are you smoking meth or something? One minute you're like fucking Superman running around taking pictures of the sunset and making pancakes then you're holding a knife to someone's throat. Are you okay?"

I'm scared. I am not on drugs. My phone vibrates. I have a text from Carl. Frank is getting married and he's dying. What? How does that work? Carl wants me to come. I look at Mickey finally.

"Frank," I tell him.

"Fuck Frank," Mickey says.

"He's dying and getting married. I'm going to the hospital," I tell him.

"I'll go with you," Mickey says automatically.

"You don't have to," I tell him.

"Ian, he's your father, and I'm your—I'm going."

Mickey and I take a bus to the hospital Frank is at. They let me right in because I'm family, even though I'm actually not Frank's son. Debbie and Carl are standing beside Frank's bed. My new pseudo-sister Sammi is here too. Mickey is leaning against the door.

"Can Frank get married? I thought he was still married to Monica," I whisper to Debbie.

"I don't know," Debbie says, "Sh."

The nurse asks us to say some last words to Frank, not that I care or anything, but I guess if he's dying hearing something nice would be a good to enter the afterlife. I make up something to say that's not really all that personal. I mean, if Lip were here he'd say, "Save me a room in Hell," or something witty, but I can't bring myself to do that. I mean, he was shitty parent, but I can't be intentionally mean to him.

Sheila comes in wearing the ugliest dress I've ever seen. I think of what it would it be like to have my own wedding some day. It's not legal for me and Mickey to marry in Illinois, but hopefully it will be someday soon.

After the "I do's" a bunch of doctors and nurses take Frank away into surgery. He's been moved up on the transplant list. I join Mickey who is now standing amongst a crowd of onlookers.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Why do you care?" I ask.

"Fuck," Mickey whispers, he takes my arm and pulls me along behind him. We stop in an empty hallway. Mickey looks into my eyes. "I'm sorry for treating that way this morning in the Alibi, alright. Alright?"

"No," I say, "It hurt."

"Come here, Ian," Mickey says, opening his arms to me. He embraces me and holds me and runs his fingers through my hair. I cling to him as if he'll be taken away if I let go. Mickey kisses me on the cheek.

"Why can't we have this all the time?"

"We can," Mickey says.

"Just not in public?"

Before he can answer my question a shuffling of feet makes him release me. He puts several feet between us and starts swearing. Several doctors walk by but none of them pay attention to us. I leave when Mickey isn't looking.

Mickey chases after me. It seems like one of us is always chasing the other. Mickey stops me several times to ask me about what happened at his house with Kenyatta, but I have no answer. I don't know what happened. I don't know how the knife got in my hand.