Read Online I Regret Everything by Seth Greenland - Free Book Online
Authors: Seth Greenland
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of the hall opposite the adultsâ room. Beyond Marshallâs bedroom the hallway made a right turn. At the end of that passage was my room. It was above the kitchen door and faced the freestanding garage.
My phone vibrated. A text! It was . . . Harlee.
Good luck!
Succinct. Hard to blame her for that when I had bounced without warning. Beneath my window a car door slammed. I began to unpack.
âSo theyâre making you stay in the maidâs room?
Marshall stood in the doorway and watched me put my clothes away.
âYeah, it looks that way.
It had been nearly a year since Iâd seen him and heâd grown a couple of inches but was still shorter than me. He had spaniel eyes set in a pale, sensitive face and long brown hair that fell over his forehead.
âOur maid doesnât live here, he said.
âThatâs a good thing since apparently Iâm in her room.
âIâll trade rooms if you want, he said. I donât want to be so close to my parents.
âThatâs two of us.
In the backyard I could see Cody playing some kind of war game with a friend. He was wearing a Knicks jersey that hung to his knees. The boys were running around with toy rifles shooting each other. Cody was the more physical of the two siblings, the one who jumped around a lot and broke things. Marshall was ethereal, the kind of kid whose delicate quiet held a promise of something interesting occurring later.
âWhat happened last Christmas? You were supposed to come stay with us.
He got right to it, didnât he? Still at the age where he wasnât thinking ahead in the conversation, or wondering if a question was okay to even ask.
âYeah, well, itâs like this, Marshall. There were a few problems that had to get taken care of, so I went someplace and took care of them.
âWhat kind of problems?
âThey thought I was crazy.
âAre you?
âDepends what you mean by crazy.
He looked thoughtful, like he was formulating a definition in his head of what it meant to be insane. The jagged pieces appeared to be coming together. The evidence in front of him had to be puzzling. How did he view me, this troubled interloper, this trespasser in his private space?
âAnd now youâre good?
âSometimes I bark at the moon.
He thought about probing further but decided against it. Instead he wandered into the room and flopped on the bed.
âDo you have any weed? he said.
âIâll pretend I didnât hear that.
âIâve never actually smoked it.
âMe neither.
âYouâre lying.
âYou caught me, dude. Youâre better off knowing that people lie and life sucks and figuring out how to deal with that reality.
He nodded his head like he was actually considering what heâd just been told. That was an appealing quality. He wanted to
know
. Marshall looked at me like I had answers. I didnât want to disappoint although that was where my main talent seemed to lie.
âMy parents let me plant a garden. Want to see?
Beyond the slate patio with its perfect furniture and gleaming grill was an immaculately tended lawn ringed by white birch trees. Marshall led me across the grass and behind the garage. In this place that couldnât be seen from the house, he had turned over the nearly black earth and planted flowers. Already two months into the growing season, the plot was a rowdy palette of floral mayhem. There didnât seem to be any discernible pattern but it was pure beauty. Flowers were easier for me to embrace than trees.
âThatâs marsh marigold, he said, pointing. Thatâs blue phlox and that oneâs New England aster.
âMarshall, I gushed, this is freaking amazing.
He walked to the side of the garage that bordered the neighborâs property and beckoned me to follow. A slatted wood fence separated the two yards and there was about three feet separating the garage and the fence. He was standing next
My phone vibrated. A text! It was . . . Harlee.
Good luck!
Succinct. Hard to blame her for that when I had bounced without warning. Beneath my window a car door slammed. I began to unpack.
âSo theyâre making you stay in the maidâs room?
Marshall stood in the doorway and watched me put my clothes away.
âYeah, it looks that way.
It had been nearly a year since Iâd seen him and heâd grown a couple of inches but was still shorter than me. He had spaniel eyes set in a pale, sensitive face and long brown hair that fell over his forehead.
âOur maid doesnât live here, he said.
âThatâs a good thing since apparently Iâm in her room.
âIâll trade rooms if you want, he said. I donât want to be so close to my parents.
âThatâs two of us.
In the backyard I could see Cody playing some kind of war game with a friend. He was wearing a Knicks jersey that hung to his knees. The boys were running around with toy rifles shooting each other. Cody was the more physical of the two siblings, the one who jumped around a lot and broke things. Marshall was ethereal, the kind of kid whose delicate quiet held a promise of something interesting occurring later.
âWhat happened last Christmas? You were supposed to come stay with us.
He got right to it, didnât he? Still at the age where he wasnât thinking ahead in the conversation, or wondering if a question was okay to even ask.
âYeah, well, itâs like this, Marshall. There were a few problems that had to get taken care of, so I went someplace and took care of them.
âWhat kind of problems?
âThey thought I was crazy.
âAre you?
âDepends what you mean by crazy.
He looked thoughtful, like he was formulating a definition in his head of what it meant to be insane. The jagged pieces appeared to be coming together. The evidence in front of him had to be puzzling. How did he view me, this troubled interloper, this trespasser in his private space?
âAnd now youâre good?
âSometimes I bark at the moon.
He thought about probing further but decided against it. Instead he wandered into the room and flopped on the bed.
âDo you have any weed? he said.
âIâll pretend I didnât hear that.
âIâve never actually smoked it.
âMe neither.
âYouâre lying.
âYou caught me, dude. Youâre better off knowing that people lie and life sucks and figuring out how to deal with that reality.
He nodded his head like he was actually considering what heâd just been told. That was an appealing quality. He wanted to
know
. Marshall looked at me like I had answers. I didnât want to disappoint although that was where my main talent seemed to lie.
âMy parents let me plant a garden. Want to see?
Beyond the slate patio with its perfect furniture and gleaming grill was an immaculately tended lawn ringed by white birch trees. Marshall led me across the grass and behind the garage. In this place that couldnât be seen from the house, he had turned over the nearly black earth and planted flowers. Already two months into the growing season, the plot was a rowdy palette of floral mayhem. There didnât seem to be any discernible pattern but it was pure beauty. Flowers were easier for me to embrace than trees.
âThatâs marsh marigold, he said, pointing. Thatâs blue phlox and that oneâs New England aster.
âMarshall, I gushed, this is freaking amazing.
He walked to the side of the garage that bordered the neighborâs property and beckoned me to follow. A slatted wood fence separated the two yards and there was about three feet separating the garage and the fence. He was standing next
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