Every Night Read online

  “Would it help you to go see the site?” I asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  I helped wake up the kids, and we walked to my car, piling them all in. They were all ecstatic like someone was taking them on their first vacation. They pressed their noses to the glass and watched the world roll by while the man sat in the front seat and smiled. I could tell he hadn’t heard their laughter in a long time, and I could’ve sworn I saw a tear run down his face.

  I turned onto the construction site where the dirt had already been dug up to begin, and I parked my car before I turned toward the man.

  “See that guy over there in the orange hat?” I asked.

  “Yep.”

  “That’s the foreman. He heads up this site. This place is going to be a little community of mobile homes. They’re setting up everything: plumbing, electric, water filtration. All of it. From the ground up. It will be a project that’ll dedicate you to work for a few months, possibly a year, depending on how many the foreman wants to build.”

  “A year’s worth of work?” the man asked.

  “Potentially. Come on. I’ll introduce you to him.”

  Everyone piled out of the car, and the kids stuck close to him. The sights and sounds were all foreign to them, and I could tell they were all nervous. The man was putting up a good front, rolling his shoulders back and trying to present himself well. But I could tell by the way he clutched the kids around him that he was just as nervous as they were.

  “Foreman Duke!” I called, trying to sound professional.

  “Bryan! I was wonderin’ when you’d be by. And who do we have here?”

  “Daniel, sir. Daniel Lockley. And these are my kids, Paley, Desiree, Michael, and DeShawn.”

  “Nice to meet everyone. So, I take it Bryan’s given you the rundown of what’s happening here?” Duke smiled and ruffled Deiree’s hair. She giggled in reply.

  “A bit,” Daniel said.

  “Well, right now we need help cleaning up around the site. Shovelin’ the random dirt piles, smoothing everything down. Eventually, we’ll need help with painting the walls of the mobile homes and installing basic fixtures. We’ll teach you things too, like how foundations are laid, how to properly measure and put down carpet, and how to hook up plumbing. Things like that.”

  “I’m up for anything, sir. I’m just incredibly thankful for the opportunity.”

  “Bryan always makes sure to bring me hard workers. You a hard worker, Daniel?”

  “The hardest. Before my life took a turn, I was a landscaper,” he said.

  “No shit?”

  I silently scolded Duke for his language as the children’s eyes widened at him

  “I mean, that’s good. Maybe those skills will come in handy around here.”

  “Can I ask what’s gonna happen with my kids while I’m workin’?” he asked.

  “See that colorful building across the way there?”

  Daniel turned to look at other children running around the fenced-in building.

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s where they’ll be.”

  “Is it possible for them to take the payment outta my paychecks?” he asked. “I wanna make sure they get paid for their time.”

  Duke shot me a look of approval as a small smile crossed my face. “We have an arrangement with ‘em. Don’t worry about that. You drop them off there in the mornings, come over here to work, and then go get ‘em when you’re done. They’ll be fed and playin’ with other children the whole day.”

  If I wasn’t sure about the tear in the car, I was definitely sure about the tear cascading down his cheek now.

  “Food and friends?” he whispered.

  “Food and friends,” I repeated. “That place stays open until seven, so on the days you go to your sessions, you can clock out around four thirty and go before you pick them up.”

  “Seven ...” Daniel trailed off.

  “I told you they’d be taken care of,” I said.

  “When can ya start?” Duke asked.

  “Now. Or, er, whenever you need me,” Daniel said.

  “Good. Follow me and let’s go get ya set up. Bryan here’ll run the kids across the street.”

  Daniel hesitantly went off with Duke to get set up as I crouched down to the level of the kids. Their eyes were trailing behind Daniel, wondering where he was going and when he was coming back. I could see the fear in their eyes. The way their bodies were starting to tremble.

  So, I took each of their hands in mine and held them until their attention turned to me.

  “You guys hungry?” I asked.

  They slowly nodded as I smiled.

  “You guys want a shower and some clean clothes?”

  That question earned me a vigorous nod from all of them.

  “Well, there’s a place across the street that has all of those things. Clean clothes, toys to play with, and other kids to meet. Food as often as you want and juices for you to drink. Would you like to go see? Daniel’s going to come and get you when he finishes work.”

  The smiles that crossed their faces warmed my heart.

  By the time I got across the street, the kids practically took off running. A woman was at the gate to greet us and wrapped her arms around all the kids. I waved to her, silently thanking her for her donation to the project as she smiled back, and by the time I got back to the site, Daniel was already picking up stray materials on the ground that needed to be moved.

  “You know, Bryan, the last guy you brought to one of these sites stole some very expensive supplies,” Duke said quietly.

  “I know.”

  “Just took off with ‘em. Left us high and dry.”

  “I hear you, Duke.”

  “You think this is still a smart thing to do?” he asked.

  “In all the years I’ve been doing this with the company, how many have turned out like him?” I asked.

  “Two,” he said, sighing.

  “I can’t let two people who took advantage of our kindness ruin something we’ve been doing for years.”

  “Whatever you say, boss,” he said, grinning.

  “I pay the bills around here, and the good we do completely outweighs the couple of bad things that had gone wrong on sites. The company has always had the funds to foot the losses. I manipulated our financials so we would. Nothing’s changing.”

  “You know this kind of shit would give you some wonderful PR. The owner of one of the fastest-growing construction companies hiring a homeless person to work on each project? The public would eat that shit up, Bryan.”

  “This is about helping people, Duke. Not about PR. These guys, they just need help. They need someone to throw them something. They need someone to understand their scenario and give them ways to help themselves. That’s all,” I said.

  “I gotta ask,” Duke said as he straightened his hard hat. “This was something you did from the very beginning. Even when you didn’t have the funds to suction up the losses. Why?”

  My heart stopped beating for just a split second. I closed my eyes and allowed the ocean breeze to whisk me away to a different time. A time when John and I ran around in the front yard and batted each other with foam swords. A time when frolicking in the ocean meant family vacations and fish fries. A time when grilling out was a family affair and thunderstorms scared the shit out of my brother and punishments were taken in stride in order to make memories that still kept me afloat.

  Still kept me breathing despite everything that had been ripped from me.

  “You still here, Bryan?” he asked.

  “I have a better question,” I said as I watched Daniel work. “How do you think he’s gonna feel?”

  “Who?” Duke asked.

  “Daniel. How do you think he’s gonna feel?” I asked.

  “About workin’?”

  “Nope.”

  “About providin’ for those four kids of his?”

  “Nope,” I said, grinning.

  “You mean—oh,” Duke said
, smirking. “I have to say, that’s always my favorite part.”

  “Mine, too,” I said as Daniel threw hunks of rock and metal into a wheelbarrow.

  “You know what I think?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “I think he’s gonna hold his kids and cry when he finds out one of these mobile homes is his.”

  “Bryan” Duke said as he turned to me with a grin, “I think you might just be right. Shit, I know you are.”

  Chapter 1

  The chilly sea air blanketed San Diego as everyone gathered in the bar. Aunts and uncles filtered in. Cousins with their spouses and children waved as they walked in. Laughter filled the room as I stood behind the bar, helping dole out beers in order to preoccupy my mind. Drew was there, sharing in a beer with me, and people we’d befriended throughout the building of our company showed up to pay their respects. The bar was only serving three drinks tonight, an IPA, Guinness stouts, and rum and cokes.

  All three were favorites of John’s, and all three of them would be served in his honor.

  I looked around the bar and saw everyone chatting. I caught bits and pieces of stories as people came and went from the bar. Some were reminiscing about how John was like a brother to them. Others were reminiscing about the trouble we used to get into. Some were talking about how tragic it was that he passed at such a young age, and some were even talking about how they wished he was still alive.

  But the two people who should’ve been here weren’t.

  “Bryan! Come over here with one of those rum and cokes, would ya?”

  My uncle called me over as he bellowed across the crowd. I made him a drink and slipped out from behind the bar, allowing another bartender to swoop in and take my place. I wasn’t supposed to be serving drinks anyway, but it got my mind off the speech I was supposed to make.

  It got my mind off the fact that my parents weren’t here.

  “Do you remember that time John tried to jump from our roof into the pool?” he asked as I handed him his drink.

  “I do. It required a hospital trip, two surgeries, and a whole lot of bellyachin’ from Mom for months,” I said.

  “Busted his leg up and his tailbone,” my uncle said.

  “Wait, what?” Drew asked. “I don’t think I’ve heard this story.”

  “I haven’t told you this? Seriously? It’s my favorite. All right. We were sent to my uncle’s because Dad was sick. Mom didn’t want us catching anything, so she shipped us off,” I said.

  “It was our job to fill ‘em with candy before we shipped ‘em back,” my uncle said, smiling.

  “And that’s exactly what they did. Except sugar made John bounce off the wall,” I said. “I went outside to swim, and John said he was going to join me, but what I didn’t realize was how he would be joining me.”

  “Are you serious?” Drew asked, chuckling.

  “Yep. I looked up from the diving board, and he was on the roof. I couldn’t even shout to stop before he jumped, and I knew the moment his feet left the roof, he wasn’t going to make it.”

  “The scream that peeled from his lips scared the shit outta my wife,” my uncle said. “All I heard was his scream, a splash, and then my wife was hollerin’ for me.”

  “Did he even get to the pool?” Drew asked.

  “Yeah. After bouncing twice on the concrete,” I said, smiling.

  “Oh, what about the time you and John snuck out in the middle of the night to come meet us,” my cousin said as she walked up. “Did your parents ever find out about that?”

  “Fuck no, thank the heavens. They would’ve torn our tails up, and we would’ve never left the house,” I said.

  “Is that the story where the two of you snuck out, went joyriding, and you learned how to change a flat tire at three in the morning?” Drew asked.

  “Nope. This is the story where we snuck out, went to a party, drank alcohol for the first time, and hid our vomit in containers underneath our bed until we could flush it down the toilet.”

  “You did what?” Drew exclaimed.

  “Yep. It doesn’t take much to get a teenage boy drunk, and we were so sick from the liquor we’d mixed that both of us tried to cover up what we’d done by throwing up into trash cans and hiding them underneath our beds.”

  “How did your mother not smell that?” my uncle asked.

  “She raised two boys. Nothing phased her,” I said.

  I noticed the roar of the crowd was slowly dying down. The laughter and reminiscing came to a dull pause, and that’s when I looked at my watch. It was approaching nine thirty-six in the evening, the exact time my parents and I had gotten the phone call that John had overdosed.

  I slowly made my way up to the podium, trying my best not to make a sound as everyone held their breath while the minute passed by.

  It felt like an eternity, like I was swimming in a pool full of gelatin. The eerie silence descended all across the bar. Even the children knew there was something going on. The crickets were chirping outside, and the wind was lightly howling by the windows. Besides a sniffle or two rising from the crowd, there wasn’t a human sound to be heard.

  The bar was silent until nine forty. Then, I pulled the microphone from the stand and held it up to my lips.

  “John’s life might have ended in tragedy, but there was a great deal of joy to be remembered in his life,” I began. “I want to thank you all for coming. For four years we’ve gathered in this bar on this night and remembered the life of my brother. We’ve reminisced, enjoyed the adult beverages he favored during his short lifetime, and enjoyed the finger foods he loved as a teenager. We come together to reminisce about the good instead of choosing to focus on the last couple of hours of his life.”

  I looked down at the Guinness I was holding in my hand as a memory wafted through my mind. A memory of the first time John had ever forced me to drink one of these things. It looked like he was drinking sludge, and I wanted nothing to do with it, but he told me he’d order me a full one to down if I didn’t take at least one sip.

  I ended up finishing his, and he had to order another one that night.

  “My favorite memory of John is a simple one,” I said as I raised my head. “It’s the first time I ever had one of these with him.”

  I raised my Guinness to the crowd, and they all chuckled. I told this story every year when we all gathered. But the crowd seemed to humor me in listening to it just one more time.

  One more time, just for me, so I could take a little more time to process my brother being dead.

  “He dragged me out to this bar to boast about this girl he was dating. ‘She’s the one,’ he told me. ‘She’s beautiful,’ he told me. ‘Ebony skin like this beautiful drink,’ he said to me. He threw it back while I sipped on my water, designating myself as the sober driver for the night. But he insisted I take a sip to toast the new love of his life. I can still remember the smile on his face. The way his eyes twinkled as he talked about her. Even now, I can’t remember a single thing he said about her, other than complimenting the beauty of her skin tone. But I do remember him threatening to make me down a whole one if I didn’t at least try the beer.”

  I took a long pull of the Guinness in my hand as a small chuckle ricocheted through the crowd.

  “To this day, it’s the best beer I could order,” I said. “But it’s gotta be cold.”

  “Ice cold,” the crowd said.

  I smiled out at them as my shoulders shook with my laughter. I’d told this story way too many times, and I loved them all the more for allowing me to tell it just one more time.

  For John.

  I held my Guinness high in the air and everyone else followed suit. I scanned the crowd, taking in all the wet eyes and shaking chests as they all tried to keep their emotions at bay. Yes, this was a celebration of life, but it was a celebration for a man who was missed wholly and completely by a crowd of people that would’ve given anything to the devil himself to have one more day with him.

  But as m
y eyes passed over the bar, I saw someone I didn’t recognize.

  A woman, her hair short and dyed purple, holding up an IPA with a small smile on her face. It almost seemed like she was toasting with us, though her elbow was resting on the bar. It didn’t shock me that someone was there I didn’t recognize. It wasn’t like I’d rented out the bar for the night or anything. It just struck me as incredibly respectful that a person who didn’t know John would collide with a grieving crowd of people to toast to a person she didn’t even know.

  I gave her a small smile before I continued on with my toast.

  “To a man who left more influence behind in his pinky than we’ll ever reach in our lives. May John continue to rest in peace, free from the demons that grabbed hold just a bit too tight. We love you, brother, and you’re sorely missed.”

  “Here, here,” the crowd said.

  I threw back the last of my beer before I holstered the microphone. I backed up into the darkness of the stage, scanning the crowd to try and find my parents. I hoped with all my soul they would show up, put aside their hatred and disgust for the situation and just show up for the memorial of their son.

  But I didn’t see either of them, and it sent my vision spiraling into a fit of red.

  I stepped off the stage and made my way toward the bar. I wanted to thank the strange woman for toasting to my brother and maybe talk with her a bit about the man she had toasted. But when I got to the bar she was gone, save for the empty IPA bottle sitting where her elbow had been.

  “Want another one?” the bartender asked.

  “Actually, give me a rum and coke real quick,” I said.

  One rum and coke turned into three, and pretty soon, I was ordered an Uber to come pick me up. I had no business driving anywhere right now, and there were two people I needed to have a very stern conversation with.

  It was time all this bullshit ended.

  The Uber pulled up to my parents’ place, and I waved the guy off. I wobbled up to the front door and took a deep breath, and then I began knocking furiously until someone answered. My father whipped the door open and looked at me, his nose slightly crinkled as if some dirty, stray dog had just run up onto his pristine porch. His eyes took on the tattoos I hadn’t covered for the memorial gathering, and I pushed by him when he didn’t step over to let me in.