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I didn’t want to get angry with him, but he really pushed my buttons with his complaints. I was tired and hungry too, not just him. It was my money that paid for the trip, I thought the least he could do was be happy about that.
“Look,” I said, “how about we go and get some food, take some stress off of us both, and find a beach to sit near? We could both use some fresh air after such a long trip and hard day. Tomorrow, when everything is done processing, we’ll visit with Trent, and you can get on with your happy little life.”
“You’re the one who wanted me to come with you,” he sassed. “I was perfectly fine with staying home, doing what I always do.”
“Then why didn’t you, Nick?” I snapped. “Huh? That would’ve saved me a thousand dollars.”
I immediately regretted what I said to him. My anger wasn’t about the money, because I had more than enough to spare, I was just annoyed with him complaining all the time about everything.
“I didn’t mean that,” I said softly. “I’m just overwhelmed right now and you're not making it any better with all the complaints. Let's go find some food, alright? Please.”
He didn’t contest to find food. Of course he didn’t. Nick never turned down food or the opportunity for someone else to pay for anything. Although I was angry with him for giving me such a hard time when I only wanted to show him a good time; I took care of my little brother. It was my duty.
We drove around for almost an hour trying to find something good to eat in the small town. It was pretty challenging, but we opted for a small Chinese buffet. No matter where I went, or how small the town was, I always appreciated good Chinese food.
Nick and I grabbed plates and piled them bigger than our stomachs, then found a nice quiet booth to sit down and enjoy our meal. For the longest, he was quiet and had an angry look on his face, but I slowly saw that wither away each time he lifted his fork.
I tried to assure him that we’d be able to go in for a visit with Trent the next day, but he wasn't buying it. Apparently, he knew more about the prison system and how jails worked than I did, because I had my sights set on being approved.
“Those people will tell you whatever you want to hear just to get you away from their window,” he said. “Trent had a high-profile case that involved a cop. Do you really think it’s going to be easy getting in to see him? It doesn't matter how much paperwork you fill out; they’ll do anything to block you from coming in just to make his prison stay even harder.”
“Nick,” I sighed. “Can you please have some faith here? Just a little. If you're always thinking so negatively about everything, that’s all you’ll ever get out of life. Is that really what you want?”
“No, but I will live in the reality of the world,” he said. “I know exactly how this works. I've done a lot of research on things like this. Mom too. Why do you think we couldn’t find out where they moved him for so long?”
I ignored Nick and finished my food. When we were finished, I found a beach nearby and decided to go sit on the sand. Surprisingly, Nick’s mood lightened while we were close to the water. I guess water did have healing properties after all.
“It’s nice out here,” I said. “If I ever decide to move again, it would probably be someplace like this; quiet, and small, so that I don’t have to deal with so many people.”
“If I ever move out of Big Bear, I want to move to another country. Somewhere tropical that has beach weather all year round,” Nick said. “Maybe a small island that needs a ferry to get to and from land.”
“That sounds nice. I never knew you thought about moving out of the country.”
Nick's idea of where to live didn’t sound too bad. I pictured myself living on an island, eating fresh fruit and seafood every day near the beach. Crystal clear waters and fish that swim right up to my doorstep. I made a mental note of that beautiful thought and made a plan to explore it later down the line.
“What type of work would you be doing when you moved?” I asked. “What are your hobbies; your interests?”
“I like all kinds of things,” he said. “Playing basketball, reading and research, but mostly art. I picked up painting a while back and it's actually pretty stress relieving. I thought I wanted to be a writer like you and mom at one point, but nah. That's too much work.”
Most days I forgot that my mom was a talented writer. She wrote beautiful stories and poetry all the time when we were younger, but over the years she forgot about her gift. I often wished she would get back into her creative way of thinking and pick it back up, but the more we fought, the further away I strayed from her and what she was good at.
“It’s not so bad,” I said. “You just have to stay focused and have a great imagination. I've always been good at imagining things. I guess that’s why it comes so easy for me.”
“That’s how I am with painting,” Nick said. “I didn’t even know I could paint before I tried. I want to get into graffiti and tagging soon. Maybe start my own business painting murals for people.”
I enjoyed hearing him talk about his goals and what he wanted to do. I thought maybe Brayden was right, all I had to do was give Nick the space and time to figure out what it was he wanted to do in life, and he would do it at his own pace.
Projection was a hell of a thing when you witnessed someone go down the wrong path and get trapped in cycles that weren’t healthy. I got so wrapped up in trying to protect Nick from following the same footsteps as our mom and brother, I forgot to let him be his own person.
The next afternoon, we drove straight to the prison to check on our paperwork. As expected, there was a long wait and slow moving office officials. I hated the way the prison system worked. It was as if they were quick to throw someone away, and extra slow to let them out.
Nick explained it to me while we waited. I was amazed by how knowledgeable he was about that kind of stuff. He had all kinds of theories and conspiracies about it and although I didn’t grasp the information as quickly as he threw it out there, I listened intently.
When my number finally came up and I was called to the window, I was met by the same woman as the day before. She didn’t look thrilled to see me as I was her, but there I was; eager to find out if our visit had been approved.
“Who are you here to see?”
I felt like my head would spin around in a complete circle when she asked.
