Page 5 of Solo Stan

Elias

One Day Ago

A dull ache in Elias’s nose woke him up again. The cut in his lip had closed, but it still throbbed, and his nose was still sore from the fight. Not that it was much of a fight. Elias took one hit from a middle schooler, then folded like an AARP card–carrying lawn chair.

He reached under his shirt and scratched his stomach as he shifted his head to the side, producing a loud cracking sound from his neck. He scoffed when the other side made no noise.

Eyes barely open yet, Elias shuffled to the fridge, appreciating the chill for a moment before gathering everything needed for breakfast—blueberry pancakes, eggs, and bacon.

The small kitchen soon filled with the sweet scent of caramelizing blueberries and fluffy pancake batter sizzling in melted butter.

When the last blueberry pancake slid off his spatula onto the stack, he stood back to admire his work. They weren’t pretty, but they were Nia’s favorite, and they were done, which was all that mattered when his mom came home from a night shift.

Leaning over the sink, he half-consciously chewed on a slice of bacon until he dozed off and it fell from his mouth into the mixing bowl he was supposed to be washing.

“This is Later Elias’s problem,” he grumbled, leaving the stack of dirty dishes abandoned in the sink.

He trudged to the bathroom, groaning when he realized the door was locked. Steam rose from beneath it. His mother must have snuck in, then hopped right in the shower. She was usually covered in all sorts of biohazards when she got back from work.

Elias retreated to his room to wait until the bathroom was freed up.

Five minutes was adequate. Annoyance glued him to his bed for an extra fifteen.

He tossed and turned before rolling onto his stomach, away from his brother’s side of the room, Elias’s suitcases quietly observing him from the corner.

He was flying out in only a few short hours to live with his uncle.

A few more minutes passed, and there was a knock, knock, knock at his bedroom door.

He sat up, prepared to face her, but didn’t answer.

It was universal knowledge to everyone but his mother that a closed door meant Go away .

After another set of knocks, there she was in the doorway with a shower cap on her head.

“You still need to go to the bathroom? It’s free now.”

Of course he still needed to go. He hadn’t yet learned how to reabsorb his urine. Elias tightened his jaw and said, “Thanks, Mom.”

“Thank you for making breakfast. It smells good.”

“I didn’t do it for you. I made it for Nia.”

Mom shook her head. “I hope you realize all this is for your own good,” she said. “I just don’t know what to do with you anymore. Maybe getting away from here will help you find your way, figure out what you want to do with your life.”

“You’re going to pretend you care what I want now?” Elias asked defensively.

“Baby, I love you with everything I got, but sometimes you… you scare me, you know? You’re getting into fights and causing trouble every day now, it seems. I just don’t know what else to do.

I can’t protect you if you keep carrying on, and I can’t have this around your sister.

You’re her big brother, and she looks up to you. My big brother can help you—”

“I don’t need help. I can handle myself.”

“Then act like it!” Elias’s mother snapped.

Elias crossed his arms. “What if I don’t want to go?”

“Then you can start looking for your own place to live, because it sure as hell won’t be here.”

“I’ll go, but don’t expect me to be happy about it.”

“You think I’m worried about your happiness? Go fix yourself up.” She clicked her tongue against her teeth and continued her tirade down the hallway.

Elias shook his head and finally went to the bathroom. In the dimness, he was gently touching the tender area around his nose when the door swung open and his dad flicked on the lights without warning. Anger immediately rose within Elias as he squinted against the sudden brightness.

“You all packed up to go?” Dad asked, his usually playful tone uncharacteristically serious. “Your mother needs some rest, but I can take you to the airport.”

Elias blinked slowly. “Are you trying to get rid of me sooner?”

Dad’s body language was neutral. “Eli, no one’s trying to get rid of you. You think I want this? I want you here, taking care of your mother and your sister.”

Elias let out a deep breath. “Why don’t you take care of them?” He flattened himself against the wall to get by his father and added, “I’ll call a cab.”

Nia, braids piled atop her head, came down the hallway, a plate stacked high with syrupy blueberry pancakes in hand. She shoved a forkful into her mouth, chewing contentedly and exposing her dimples, which matched his own.

“Go back to sleep, kid,” Elias said gently.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she quipped. She leaned in to give him a one-armed hug, but Elias put up his hands in a defensive gesture.

“Chill. You don’t know me like that,” he said with a laugh.

The smile dropped from his face when he realized his dad was still standing there, and his mom had also stepped into the narrow hallway. Elias unclenched his jaw, but his fists remained tightly balled. He couldn’t handle it anymore.

“I’m leaving now,” he declared, returning to his room. Perhaps he had in fact learned how to reabsorb his urine.

“Do you have everything, baby? Are you sure you don’t want us to come to the airport with you?” Mom asked.

“God no,” Elias said.

He got dressed as quickly as he could, collected his things, and wheeled his bag down the stairs and out of the apartment building.

Nia came chasing after him. “You’re really going to leave without even saying goodbye properly?”

“It’s best I just go quietly. I’ve already made a mess of everything.”

“You’ll call, right?”

A fleeting smile tugged at the corner of Elias’s mouth. “Be good,” he said, pulling his sister into a side hug and planting a quick kiss on her forehead. He climbed into the waiting cab, not glancing back as it drove away.

Elias gazed out of the window as the cab cut through an agonizingly trendy neighborhood. You could go antiquing and then step next door and get an authentic deli bagel covered in lox. After you were done with that, you could walk across the street and get Indian food and a Swedish massage.

Elias couldn’t wait to leave it all behind.

It wasn’t the city he disliked, but rather the people, the culture, the weather, and the accents. He never understood why a city inhabited by people who used fuck like a comma drew so many tourists.

North Carolina didn’t exactly bring up good memories for him either.

The last time he had been there was about five years ago when his parents were going through their divorce.

His mother had packed him, Nia, and William into the car and driven them down to her big brother’s house, giving their father until they returned to clear out his things and move into his new place.

His mother spent most of the time talking to lawyers and crying on Uncle Moodie’s shoulder.

William mostly kept to himself, talking to all his friends back in New York constantly, because William’s method of dealing with things had always been not to deal with them.

That left Elias to be the one to try to explain everything to Nia, who was only eight at the time.

They’d go to the park, get sick from eating as much junk food as they wanted because no one was there to tell them no, and stay up late.

Elias got used to sleeping with the light on since Nia had been afraid.

Even now, he found it difficult to be in the complete dark.

Elias hoped that, this time, North Carolina would signal a more positive change for him. Stepping off the plane and onto the tarmac, Elias felt like he was sweating inside of his own skin. Rushing into the airport was all he could do not to spontaneously combust.

At baggage claim, Elias waited for his luggage to reach him, but a woman in front of him grabbed it before he did.

“That’s my bag, ma’am,” Elias said.

“Well, you should label your stuff. Everyone has a black bag,” she said.

Elias’s eyes widened. The coffee she was holding was probably her only personality trait. He wondered how long it would take someone to do something if he smacked it right out of her hand.

“Don’t you have someone to go argue with on Facebook?” Elias snapped, snatching his bag from the woman’s grasp.

He couldn’t help but wonder if his mother would have been proud that he’d had the good sense to walk away before he truly got angry.

Her favorite thing to do was call him disrespectful.

She would go on and on about how she hadn’t raised him that way, but obviously, she did, because he ended up exactly that way.

Elias’s mind was blank and his body stiff as he waited in the belowground pickup area. It wasn’t long before his uncle pulled up in his black F-150, the same truck he’d had the last time Elias was in North Carolina.

“Hey, nephew,” Uncle Mudiaga—known to everyone as Uncle Moodie—said as he got out and ran around to Elias’s side of the truck.

“Hi…” Elias replied. The last time he’d been in North Carolina, he could have sworn that Moodie was at least fifty.

But now, looking at his uncle—effortlessly throwing Elias’s bag into the truck with one hand and likely able to do the same to Elias if he didn’t watch himself—Elias supposed that every adult looked old when he was a kid.

Elias got into the truck next to Moodie, securing the belt around him.

“Hey, Mood,” he said as they drove off, wrapping his arms around himself and giving his biceps a reassuring squeeze, “I don’t mean any disrespect, but I thought I was helping out in your store because you were reaching your golden years. How old are you?”

“I’m thirty-eight,” Moodie replied with a laugh. “And I’m not too old to work. I just don’t want to. I’ve spent all these years making money—isn’t it time I go spend some of it? Let you young folk work a little bit while I go to Capri or Paris or something.”

“We both know your ass isn’t going to Europe. If you’re still the same Mood I know, you couldn’t leave that shop alone for more than a minute. You’re better off just buying a baguette and some pasta right here and calling it a day.”

“I see you haven’t changed either. You’ve still got that mouth,” Moodie said with a smile.

“It’s good to see you, too, Mood.”

That Uncle Moodie had started a business in his twenties was quite an accomplishment, but Elias would never say that to him out loud. Moodie would take that compliment to the grave with his chest puffed out and his chin held high.

“How’s your mom?” Moodie asked.

“Good, I guess.”

“How about Will and Nia?”

“They’re good. Everybody good except me. I’m starving.”

“We’ll be home soon,” Moodie replied, taking the hint that Elias didn’t want to talk about his family.

They rode the rest of the way in silence.

“Hey, Eli.” Moodie’s voice woke Elias from a nap he didn’t remember falling into. “We’re here.”

Elias stretched his arms and rolled his neck, earning him a satisfying crack . He then followed Moodie, half-dazed, up the stairs at the back of the bookstore, which led to the private entrance of the studio apartment over his uncle’s store.

The bare walls, spare furniture, and layers upon layers of industrial white paint, which covered everything, including light switches and a few cockroaches, weighed heavily on Elias.

“This place is small as hell,” Elias said. “I’d probably bump into myself by mistake.”

Moodie brought in Elias’s second suitcase and placed it in the center of the room. “It’s either this or you live with me. I just thought you’d want a little independence.”

“I’m not complaining, Mood. It reminds me of home,” Elias replied honestly. He pushed his bags into the corner, where they’d stay, still packed, until he was ready to go back to New York. “Thanks.”

“You’re family,” Moodie said. “Now, I’m about to go home. Do you want to come over for something to eat?”

Elias thought a moment. “Nah, it’s cool. I’ll figure something out.”

Moodie put a hand on Elias’s shoulder. “I know you don’t want to be here, but I’m glad you came, nephew.”

“Thanks. I guess I’ll see you bright and early.”

Elias dropped his belongings onto the floor and lay down on the bed, feeling the dull ache in his face as he shifted positions.

He rubbed his arm as he got up and walked into the small bathroom.

He had to suck in and flatten himself to fit inside because the door hit the toilet, making it impossible to open all the way.

He yanked the cord to the light bulb on the ceiling.

It was more of a large closet than a room, and like most things in his life right now, it was just transitory.

The mirror was distorted in the corners, and one side was a few millimeters lower than the other. He would fix it in the morning.

Elias leaned over the sink, his face centimeters from the mirror.

The warped glass made his face bigger and gave it a cartoonish quality that terrified him.

There were a few blue speckles underneath his eye, the whisper of a bruise, but thankfully, it wasn’t enough to completely devastate his looks. He just appeared a little tired.

He pulled the cord to the light again and stood in darkness for a while, staring at his silhouette in the mirror.

“Tomorrow’s going to suck,” he muttered to himself.