How We Deal With Gravity(81)
“Hang on,” he says, and I hear the sink for a few seconds before the door finally pops open. Ben’s eyes are wild, and he keeps rubbing his arm along his nose; I know the second I see him he’s f*cked up. He’s been like this before. It’s been a while, and he’s never completely fallen into full-on addict, but he’s dabbled—usually when some stripper hooks him up, or he shacks up with the wrong girl. I’m sure that’s the case tonight.
“Fuuuuuck, dude? What did you do!” I say going into the bathroom to search for what I know is there. There’s a small bit of powder left on the sink counter, so I grab a handful of toilet paper, wet it and wipe everything clean.
“I’m fine man, really. Just a little hit,” he says, his arms twitchy and his whole f*cking body keeps jumping around. He sits on one of the benches in the living room area and looks at me, his whole foot bouncing up and down. “I might have overdone it, maybe a little.”
“You think so?” I yell, leaning back against the other bench seat, pulling my hands to my temples and rubbing. “You think you can play through this?”
“Yeah, I’ll be good,” he says, edgy as shit. I shake my head, and pull the blind back to look out the window; just making sure we’re really alone. The last thing I need is someone walking in on this. My phone buzzes once, and I know it’s Matt or Josh wondering where the hell we are.
“Look, I’ll just tell them you’re not ready yet for tune. We can do that without you. But f*cking get it together,” I say, watching him stand and look around the bus, like he’s searching for something.
“I just need my wallet. Shit, I think that bitch took my wallet,” he says, heading to the back of the bus to check the bed area. My phone buzzes again, so I pull it out to let Matt and Josh know what’s up. When I see an unknown number, I shove it back into my pocket, but the second I do, it buzzes again.
I swipe the string of messages open, half expecting to see spam or crazy fan messages from some chick who probably found my number.
It’s Claire. Mason, you need to call me. Now!
Mason, R U there?
Mason, 911 – it’s an emergency!!!
Claire—the only reason Claire would have my number is Avery, and now I’m just as twitchy as Ben. My fingers can hardly dial, but I manage to hit the return call button. I’m pacing as I wait through the rings, and Ben is storming around me, tossing cushions over and opening and shutting drawers. I shove my finger in my ear so I can listen to the other end of the line.
“Mason, oh thank god!” she says, and I feel my heart sink to my feet, knowing that whatever she’s going to say, it’s going to be the worst news of my life.
“What’s wrong, Claire. Is it Avery? Is she all right?” I say, forgetting where I am, and stepping off the bus. The screaming starts the second I come outside, but I can’t handle Ben’s jumpiness in the bus, so I walk around to the other side to muffle the sound as best as I can.
“It’s not Avery. It’s Ray. He…Ray passed away, Mason,” she says, and just like that, everything around me turns bright white and my body loses all feeling. I sit down on the pavement, and push my head between my knees, my hand cupping the back of my head, and I’m rocking—like I’m trying to rock away everything she just said.
“Mason, are you there?” her voice sounds like she’s talking through a tin can, so far away.
“I…” I can’t catch my breath, and I start to sob hard, my chest convulsing and my mouth gasping, just trying to take in air. Claire senses my break down, and she talks softly.
“Mason, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I had to call you and tell you, and that it had to be me, and it had to be now. I know you’re probably in the middle of stuff. But it’s Max,” she says, and I don’t know that I can handle it—handle more. My eyes are wide and staring at the pattern of parking lines that stretch hundreds of feet in front of me, drifting in and out of focus until the white and black bleed together into a giant block of gray.
“Max is missing. He overheard Avery talking to one of her aunts, and she hadn’t had a chance to explain things to him yet. When she went up to his room, he was gone. She’s looking everywhere, Mason. Your mom is looking, too. We shut Dusty’s down for the day. Your mom said I should call you,” she says, and then I listen for several seconds to the silence that follows. Somehow, I get back to my feet, push down the vomit that is threatening to come, and start pacing again.
“Where have you looked?” I ask, closing my eyes and flashing through a million visions—Ray’s face, the first time he put me on stage, the way he looked when he gave me the guitar, Max, Avery. In the last two months I’ve built this file of memories, and it’s all wrapped up in the Abbot family—they’re my family.
“We’ve looked everywhere, Mason. We went to his booth at Dusty’s, tore apart the kitchen, searched every nook of the damned house,” she says, and something triggers me.
“School. You have to go to his school, Claire!” I yell, walking back into the bus now. Ben seems to have found his wallet, and he’s sitting on the edge of a sofa watching some show play loudly on the TV. I walk up to it and flip the switch to turn it off. He starts to protest, and I shove him back into his seat.