New things
They spent another week in the apartment before Elias told him they were leaving the place and moving to Jersey City
And the boys couldn't be more excited,
Jersey City was at least a 13 hour drive from Chicago and a 3 hour flight, where they knew she had stayed.
Marc wanted to ask what plane they would take, where they would stay, what they would bring
But he held back; he didn't want to seem too excited. Even though it was the first time in many years that they didn't have to worry about the looming threat of his mother breathing down their neck
In the last few weeks, things between Marc and his father had been smoothing out.
But he still didn't trust Elias, nor did he want to call him dad again, neither of them really did
Marc didn't trust him, not at all
Jake hated him and couldn't keep quiet about stabbing him.
And Steven was mostly indifferent to him, but more than anything he felt pity for him.
It was easy to get Steven to feel sorry for someone; it was easy for him to walk in anyone’s shoes. But to feel pity for you? Well, that was especially low. Steven’s pity was reserved for a certain kind of person, and you really didn’t want to be that kind of person.
At some point, Elias had gone from “dad” to “Marc’s dad” or just Elias.
Even Marc was hesitant to call him father.
But there was a time when Jake and Steven wanted to call him dad too.
Before Elias made it clear that he didn’t see them as real people
Elias always thought Marc was faking it, just pretending sometimes that he didn’t speak English or that he was an Egyptian-British teenager with a ridiculously thick accent. Well, more like British, because Elias never bothered to talk to Steven. So he had no way of knowing that Steven was Egyptian-British, or that his favorite color was yellow. Or that Jake’s was green. Or that they both liked the color pink more than what would be considered “appropriate” in a guy. Because, fuck stereotypes.
Elias didn't even know what Marc's favorite color was, let alone the favorite color of his son's “delusions.”
The constant changes in behavior and accents, and the fact that Jake couldn’t speak English for a while (“Yes Jake, it’s important to learn English”). Were what led his father to make one of the worst decisions of his life.
Of all the decisions he could have made… That was the one he chose?
Put him in that horrible place?
Anyway, it’s not like that matters now. His excuse for a father had made several decisions that would probably land him in the cheapest nursing home in the United States. But now… there really wasn’t a “but.” Despite everything, Marc still planned to move out as soon as he turned eighteen and never see Elias again, if they could help it. And they planned to avoid him, very, very seriously.
It seemed like the only good decision Elias made as a father, after…, Randall.
Was to divorce his wife and take Marc away. He wanted to forgive him, he really did. Elias had gone through a one-sided divorce and he had literally had to force her to sign the papers. Not that she had put up much of a fight. All in all, Elias did something good.
But one good deed doesn't erase nine years of bad ones.
Nine years of sitting on his hands, nine years of looking away, no, Elias was far from forgiven, despite his apparent gain in good judgment, he would probably never come close.
Maybe his resentment and anger towards Elias had died down a bit, but with three people throwing fuel on the fire and for years, it was like Elias throwing a bucket of water on a forest fire.
But when Marc got in the car, he felt a little lighter than he had in nine years and maybe freer.
Jake was more excited than he let on, and he tried to hide the fact that he was just as excited as everyone else.
Steven wasn't any better, in fact he was worse, Marc was having trouble not letting him get out in front,
The three of them were vibrating with an excitement they hadn't felt in so long.
He looked at his father in the front seat and thought maybe he didn't hate him, he never really hated him, he was so angry at him, so disappointed, he wanted to yell things at him that he could never take back, cry, scream until his throat bled, and he really wanted to ask him where they were going because that wasn't the direction of the airport.
“Eli- um, dad, where are we going?”
Marc didn't mean for his voice to sound so accusatory
“You didn't have it?”
Who was he kidding, he did have it.
“D-dad. Where are we going? The airport is on the other side.”
Elias didn't seem to have heard, so he had to ask again,
“Dad?”
“Marc…”
Oh no… He knew that tone well.
“Dad?”
“You see, Marc.”
Oh no…
“You know getting a divorce isn’t cheap… with the hotel and…”
Marc didn’t hear the rest, not with the racket Jake and Steven were making in his head.
“Tell me it’s not what I think.”
“You think a lot of things, Jake, but I reckon we’re thinking the same thing.”
“The same thing? Guys, shut up, I want to hear.”
Marc noticed that Elias had stopped talking and was now staring at the street he was driving on.
“Eli-Dad, I didn’t hear you, could you repeat that last thing.”
“Marc… We’re driving to Jersey.”
OH NO
Marc couldn’t stop Jake from taking control and opening his big mouth-
“WHAT?!”
“Marc, listen, it’s not that bad.”
“What do you mean it’s not that bad, it’s 13 fucking hours, I looked it up!”
“Marc, I'm your father, watch your language.”
At this point, Jake was more than a little bit on edge. Considering they were moving away from their mother, it wasn’t that bad, but the prospect of 13 hours or more locked in a metal box with Elias was nothing short of horrifying.
So, logically, Jake wanted to do what every teenager wants to do with authority: challenge it and poke it, just to see if it would snap.
“You’re not MY father…”
“Marc?!”
“His, maybe yes.”
Jake sounded more disdainful than angry. He hadn’t meant to say that; it could endanger the others, and that was something Jake didn’t want. But that was what he had said, and now Elias looked at him through the rearview mirror, with that damn worried look, the one he had been receiving so often…, last time that look had caused so much, and not exactly good things.
“Son…”
Jake could have stayed quiet, still, pretended to be someone he was not, and that was the intention, but, it seemed that recent events had freed Jake from some of his most important inhibitions, so he just did the first thing his brain told him.
He kicked, two, three, four… times at Elias’s seat.
HARD
“Marc! The hell is wrong with you-?”
“THAT’S NOT MY NAME!”
Well that wasn’t what Jake had intended, at all, the color drained from his face faster than he could have realized what he had just said, and when he finally did, he could barely keep the food inside.
Damn. Jake squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for what was about to happen.
“El-dad…”
Well shit, now Jake wanted to cry, his voice sounded so shaky, he didn’t want to show any kind of weakness to Elias, and now he had, AND NOW ELIAS LOOKED EVEN MORE WORRIED and a little angry to be honest….
Now Jake had really screwed up.
“Listen, son… I was doing some research, and there are actually some good hospitals in the area we're moving to, maybe we could get some treatment back-”
Elias was still talking but Jake wasn't listening anymore.
Just as quickly as he had arrived, Jake left and left Marc in front.
Marc hadn't really heard much, but he could roughly deduce from the atmosphere what had happened.
“Steven… what happened?”
“Jake got angry and said a few things, Dad mentioned the hospital...”
“Well shit.”
“Yeah... Jake’s quite distressed now”
“Don't worry Steven, I can fix it.”
“It’s alright”
Marc wanted to hit Elias, how dare he… after all… but Marc wasn’t Jake, he liked to think he had more control over his emotions, and he had to clean up the mess
“Marc, it’s not your job to do damage control, it’s alright, I can handle it.”
Steven’s voice came through muffled and sad, and if there was one thing Marc didn’t like and would seek to remedy under any circumstances, it was a sad Steven
“No Steven, it’s okay, I’ll do it”
“Alright..."
He worked up the courage to talk to his father, and with a sigh he finally did.
“Dad?”
His father let out a deep, tired sigh and Marc couldn’t help but feel a little bad, just a little.
“Yes MARC”
Marc cringed at Elias’ tone, even though Elias had never been particularly violent, he was still afraid of him.
“I’m sorry…”
Elias sighed again, and this time he sounded more worried than angry.
“It’s okay son, I know this might be a lot for you, just…”
Marc didn’t listen to the rest anymore, instead he stared out the moving window of the car, he realized he was dissociating, but he didn’t do anything about it.
“Marc it’s okay… I’ll take care of it.”
Steven’s voice sounded warm and pleasant, and Marc let himself go.
Once in front Steven watched Elias from the backseat of the car, analyzing him, Elias had deep dark circles under his eyes, and his wrinkles seemed to get deeper, and Steven couldn't help but feel a strange satisfaction at this fact, his father was getting older, divorced at 46, with a "sick" son who held a grudge against him, his vision of a perfect family falling apart from the moment Randall died, and it only went downhill from there, and it was his cowardice that let it advance so much.
But despite all that, Steven didn't want to let his father sink further into that deep sadness that seemed to wrap him like a very heavy blanket.
Because despite everything, all the hurt and resentment that Steven and the boys held for him, he still loved him, and despite how much it hurt, Steven continued to love him, because that was Steven, after all, it was partly what he was made for.
So unlike Elias, Steven didn't just stare at his shoes, Steven took action and spoke up.
With his best imitation of Marc's accent (and his melancholy emo energy), he was determined to make the trip as bearable as possible.
“Dad… I'm sorry… again… and I, mhm”
Steven would have been much more communicative and eloquent, but he was imitating Marc, and honestly, a brick wall would have more emotional intelligence than Marc Spector.
“Dad… I just, I wanted to… you know, thank you, for all this”
His father's grip on the steering wheel that was starting to turn white loosened, he let out a sigh, and suddenly he looked 10 years older.
“It's okay son… you have nothing to thank me for.”
Jake would say something like -you're right, we have nothing to thank you for- But both Jake and Marc were asleep and Steven had to take care of everything by himself.
And what Steven wanted was to keep the peace as long as possible.
“Still…thanks”
Elias smiled and Steven was happy with that.
“Marc… it’s a long trip, why don’t you get some sleep, I’ll wake you up when we get to a gas station”
Steven leaned back in his seat and looked out the window. They were far from safe, so he didn’t sleep, he watched everything, absorbed it in great detail and then told everything to his boys.
When the car stopped at a gas station he pretended to be asleep so Elias wouldn’t worry too much.
“Marc, we’re here”
“Uhm… okay dad”
Steven made sure to ask Elias for a bottle of water and to stretch their legs before returning to the car.
Unfortunately his phone had been lost during the trial, the boys didn't see it, but his mother had thrown it against a wall while lashing out and screaming vile things.
Steven let them believe it had fallen from a third floor.
And now he was totally bored, he had only been on the road for 4 hours…
After all Steven is human, so he couldn't stay awake for much longer.
He had gone from consciousness to unconsciousness randomly, and at some point the boys woke up and stood guard in turns.
Between gas station and gas station
Finally, FINALLY, they arrived in Jersey City
They looked in amazement at a city they had never been to, despite having spent at least 13 hours with little interruption in a bloody metal box with Elias, tired and fed up, they marveled at the promises of a new beginning, at the promise of a life without her.
…
“We’re almost to our new place Marc”
Marc looked at his father, who seemed more nervous than usual, understandable considering they were about to arrive at their new home.
The car stopped and Marc with the boys in tow on his mind, excitedly stepped out of the car
to see a rundown apartment complex.
“Dad”
Marc’s jaw was clenched as were his hands, his voice tense and his gaze implacable.
“Yes Marc?”
Elias, seemingly oblivious to his son’s anger, just stared at him blankly.
“I thought you said we had a house.”
“Marc. You didn’t think we had enough money to buy a house, did you? Do you know how much one of those costs?”
Marc was about to pick a fight and Jake was ready to come out and defend his point.
Until Steven’s voice interrupted them.
“Oi, guys... Keep the peace, remember?”
Marc's face was flushed with embarrassment and he was determined to keep a little of his dignity.
“NO! Of course not… I was just saying.”
Of course, that made a LOT more sense than his father just buying a fucking house without going into debt in the process. Sure…
And just like that, they went up to their new apartment, Marc left the luggage in his new room, then they would take the time to marvel and explore the new place. But for the moment everyone was exhausted, they could unpack tomorrow and they would also take care of his father, tomorrow…
Before falling asleep, Steven got out of bed and walked to their backpacks.
“Steven what the hell are you doing… I want to get some fucking sleep”
“Calm down, Jake, just one little thing before bed."
He pulled out the battered Tomb Buster poster, and with some tape, stuck it down.
They stood there, staring at the poster as if it housed the answers of the universe in its thin, old layer of paper. paper.
There would be time to deal with feelings later, but in the meantime, Steven brushed his teeth, changed his clothes (something the others hadn't bothered to do), and crawled into the mattress with only a sheet to cover him, they would also have to buy a pillow…
But for the moment, between the hope of a new future and the overwhelming fear of something new.
Finally, they could rest. Without worrying about their father, or their mother, or anything, for the moment it was just them against the world. Nothing more.