“Dad, come see my battlefield!” I tugged on his sleeve. It was late, our cavernous house felt especially cold and lonely that night. He and Mother had been arguing, I’d been playing with my soldiers.
“Not now, Robin,” he practically ignored me. His face was sullen, agitated.
“But I spent hours! The artillery and cavalry are all lined up perfectly-”
“I said not now damnit!” Father’s face was red. I cringed in fear, stepped away from him. He was home so rarely, I just wanted him to pay attention to me. I’d spent all day on it, trying to impress him, knowing he’d be home tonight. I saw the regret in his eyes for yelling, but he didn’t say anything. Just grumbled and got out of his chair, walked down the hall, ice clinking in his glass. He always walked away from me, always left me.
I just didn’t want to be alone.
“Hey, look at the fag!”
I tried to ignore them, I’d already had a tough day at school. These assholes were always picking on me, didn't think I was funny. Their leader was like a posterboy for sadistic, self-loathing twerps that enjoyed giving orders and scaring younger kids.
“Tweet tweet Robin, the bird boy!”
They laughed. Bunch of hyenas. I just ignored them, kept walking, maybe my pace picked up a little. They cut me off, there were five of them- too many to try to fight.
“Where you goin’ little birdy boy? Huh?” he poked me right in the sternum. It hurt, nudged me back a half step. I didn't want to make eye contact.
“Looks like all your feathers got plucked, didn’t they faggot?” another one jeered. They cackled again.
I laughed with them. “Haha yep! At least I don’t suck Mr. Leary’s dick for grades like you Tom, ha!”
Tom’s freckled face flushed in rage and embarrassment. I tried to push through when they were distracted for a moment, but I got grabbed from behind. Tom pummeled my stomach. They kicked my ass, and for the rest of the year I took a different way home from school.
I remember John’s face that night. Bobby and Cate were over there in the corner, hitting another speedball. John was so happy, elated even. He was on a wild ride at that time, Dan was working on what would become Ghostbusters. He didn’t want to be in another damn Lampoon movie, what was it? Joy of Sex? It’s a damn shame he felt pressured by that bastard Eisner.
I should’ve noticed what was happening, nobody can hit coke and horse all night like that without getting in trouble. Hey, John’s party stamina was legendary, but he wasn’t invincible. And there I stood, just watching him go to the bathroom over and over. I should’ve said something, anything.
And now he’s dead. Another beautiful light extinguished from the world. People thought maybe it was on purpose, but no way. Johnny would never do that. He loved life too much. While I partied to forget life, he lived to party. Still, it wasn’t all fun and games. He died, and I could’ve said something. Could’ve stopped him.
She was so tiny. Her little fist wrapped around my finger as she cried. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. She was my princess, and she deserved a princess’ name. Zelda. Heroic and elegant, just like my daughter. I kissed her forehead, sat beside Marsha, we were both completely exhausted and excited. She was positively glowing. I wish Zach was here, so I could have all of my beautiful angels in one room. I laughed and cried, we held. It was one of the best moments of my life.
That night, third time’s the charm. Ben and Matt’s faces were beaming, their hugs were so loving, joyous. I hardly remember what I was doing or saying, I felt like my bones could jump out of my skin. I finally got up there, couldn’t even hardly think. I wasn’t prepared, I didn’t think I had any chance. I still don’t think it was me at my best, but Ben and Matt were hot that year. Lucky boys.
I remember standing there, speechless, dumbfounded, not knowing what to say or where to put my hands. Can of corn! What a stupid thing to say. After what felt like seconds or hours of ecstatic rambling and heart pounding, the music started playing and I marched right back into their little post-Oscar alley. I’d never regretted not preparing more in my life.
“I want a divorce.” Marsha’s dead glare settled on me. I’ll never forget that look. Complete lack of love. How could she love me? After all of the times that I’d hurt her? Screwed around? Gotten high and wrecked our lives? I couldn’t blame her, but damn if it didn’t hurt. That look, that apathy. That was the opposite of love, not hate, not disdain, just coldness. I felt it hit me deep in my bones, and I never got over it. I still think about it every night, still think about it now, here, while alone in my room.
Parkinsons. My ears were ringing. I tugged on my beard. The doctor kept talking, Susan squeezed my hand, a damp tissue crammed in our fists. “Good thing my signature already looks like shit, eh Doc?” I smiled, tears streaming down the crinkles in my skin. I had gotten old. Past my prime. Susan loved me, she was amazing, but now this. Parkinsons.
All these god damn pills. What for? So that my symptoms wouldn’t show? Who gives a shit. Susan’s just pitying me. Cody won’t even come by the house, Zelda hasn’t returned any of my calls. Why did everyone I love leave me? And now this- this wasting rotting disease that’ll turn my brain and body to mush. But did that even matter? Even without it, I couldn’t make anyone laugh any more. My last special was a disaster. My show was canceled. Hell, even my own damn wife didn’t laugh at me any more. Who wanted to laugh at an old, decrepit clown like me? My whole life was a joke, it is a joke. Ha ha ha, just the funny man trying to make people love me. Why did I have to try so damn hard? Why couldn’t I just be myself?
They’ll be better off without me. Better to end it quickly than to make them take care of me. Better hold on to what little good memories I have left, than to rot away until I can’t even eat soup any more. Susan’s still young, she’ll find somebody else. How selfish can I be? This way’s better. Yes, better.
Goodbye