Garden of Rosa
Ending 2
Imagine if you will, a world where Anon had not grown in his time with Rosa. A world where Anon still held Rosa’s parents in disregard for how they treated him, a world where Anon had been nearly an unwilling participant in his relationship. Scared and sad and withdrawn, Anon increasingly withdrew from his Dino GF, turning to shitposting on his favorite Canadian leaf-raking forum instead.
This, is the ending for that Anon.
***
The day of the wedding was fast approaching. There still were a million things to do, and despite our efforts it didn’t seem like the list got any smaller. The only solace Rosa and I took was in each other, stealing off to my apartment most nights to get away from Rosa’s family. Rosa’s parents had nearly disowned her when they found out about… well, let’s just say that the convictions Rosa once held so dear did not stand up to her own desires for long, especially once I convinced her that we were practically married already. Why not get a jump on it, I thought? I almost apologized, holding a crying Rosa in my arms when her mother was finished screaming at her through their front door, but hadn’t we both know the risk?
Opting to save some cash, all things considered, I decided on renting the arboretum gazebo for the wedding, an idea that Rosa seemed to take to in an instant. She often visited there, with or without me, watching the field of wildflowers flow in the breeze for hours. Rosa had been forced to get a job right out of high school to pay for the wedding, and what little she saved still went to her mother’s treatments. She didn’t want to let them go, no matter how much I argued that we could use the money more.
“It’s MY money, mi amor! I choose what to do with it!” Rosa had screamed at me one night, somehow embedding her flip-flop into my apartment wall. MY money. Those words had hurt; Rosa knew I was looking for a job as much as I could, but pickings for a barely-educated skinny were slim. It seemed a lot of lower-skilled jobs went quick, and I was competing against a lot of folks, a competition a weak human was likely to lose.
Increasingly, I relied on the help of Reed and Naser. I had chosen them to be my best-men at my wedding, unable to decide between them. And while I appreciated the extra help, Rosa was growing increasingly annoyed that I was, in her eyes, ‘shirking my duties’ in preparing the wedding. But Naser and Reed had cars, and what did I have? Nothing but my Xrox and toaster; one which I put to good use looking up wedding stuff, and the other I put to a more important use of helping me stay sane through all of this. Reed and Naser has accepted eagerly, for their credit, willingly heading out on whatever errand I couldn’t manage to do.
***
Finally, at last, the day was finally here: A sad, miserable weeb like me was getting married! I could hear the excited thrill of the guests beginning to arrive, see them walking up to the gazebo where dozens of small plastic chairs had been set up. Reed, Naser and I were waiting in a small grotto that served as the Groom suite, standing around in out best suits and ties, each sporting a familiar red flower in our buttonholes.
Despite everything, though, I felt… off. A part of me knew that this was supposed to be the best time of my life, my special day, but I could only look towards the future with a sense of dread. What would happen if I couldn’t get a job, couldn’t support Rosa or our… Shit, how was I going to support myself? A man could only live off shitposting alone for so long. The worst thing was, I couldn’t even talk to Rosa about this. I don’t know if her emotions were a result of the wedding or the other thing, but she had been on edge for weeks now. She even had to pick up an extra shift at her job, to pay for the flowers she had picked out. Fuck, if only my parents had actually thought to send me some money for all of this…
“Soooo, Anon, getting excited, bro?” Reed was rocking back and forth on his heels, his patent leather shoes squeaking each time he did so. Glancing over, he flashed me that stupid grin he always wore. His suit looked good on him, a far side better than it looked on me, that was for sure. “Getting’ close to the fateful hour!” Squeak. Squeak.
“Yeah, Anon, you should be happy!” Naser clapped me on the back, shooting me a big smile. I tried to return it, only managing a grimace. “Rosa’s a great woman, Anon, and you two are going to be very happy.”
Naser’s words, meant to placate me, instead sounded mocking in my ears. Sure, the two us may be able to be happy, but what if it’s more? I had to force myself unclench my jaw, to keep my hands in my pockets. Fuck, my emotions were just as much on edge as Rosa’s!
“Shame you’re parents couldn’t make it, bro. That’s real harsh…” Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.
“Reed, now’s not the time, okay?” Reed held up his hands in a mocking semblance of innocence at Naser’s admonishment. “Anon’s got a lot of things on his mind, I’m sure, so let’s talk about something else.”
“No problem, bro, no problem.” Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. “So, Anon, you know what you’n’Rosa are doin’ for your honeymoon?” Squeak. Squeak. SQUEAK.
Through gritted teeth, I manage to mumble something, mind racing. Fuck, the honeymoon! We had talked about going to Mexico, to visit Rosa’s family, but that was before she dropped that little surprise on me. Could she even fly, then? Could we even afford it? Figures whirled in my head, a whirlwind of numbers and expenses and costs and…
“Anon, you okay?” Naser’s voice was flush with concern. Sure, daddy’s little rich boy worried about his poor friend. Like Hell I could tell him about it.
“Yeah, bro, you wanna’ sit down or something?” SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SQUEAK.
“Sure, yeah, I’m okay. I’m totally fine. You know what, I may even be great! Isn’t this great, getting married, starting our life together!” Shrugging Naser’s hand off my back, I walked to the edge of the grotto, leaning against a towering oak that sat on the edge of the small space. “In fact, I love it! All the pageantry of the day and shit, all the little things that just build and build and build until it’s all I can think about!” Somewhere, someone was shouting, a very rude thing to do before a wedding.
“Anon, calm down, it’s just -“
“It’s just WHAT, Reed? Hmm? Answer me this, what is THIS?!” Spreading my arms wide, I tried a panicked laugh, the strangled sound coming out more like a sob than anything else. “Is this something you think I can do? Do you think what’s in store for me is going to be easy?”
“It’s…It’s not supposed to be easy, Anon.” Naser stumbled slightly over his words, but his eyes narrowed dangerously at me. “It’s something you have to work at, together, you and Rosa.”
“Great! That’s great!” The other two jumped as I slammed my fist into the trunk of the tree, my frustration spilling over. I could feel my body begin to shake, as if my very soul was attempting to reject the words coming out of my mouth. “Oh yeah, me and Rosa! What a great pair; someone who has their fuckin’ life together, and me! Just some dumb fucking kid, who has no idea what he’s doing!” Again and again I hammered my fist into the study oak, pounding on that rough bark as if the answers I sought lay underneath. I could feel hot tears running down my cheeks, matching the smears of blood on my hands. Before long I was pounding both fists into the unflinching tree, attempting to beat my feelings into submission. In place of words, a primal wail escaped my lips, my own personal dirge sung to the herald the death of my love. Sagging against the bark, I leaned on both hands, head downcast as I watered the earth with my tears. “Why did I think I could do this…”
Neither Reed nor Naser moved to comfort me. I was sure they were afraid, not for what I was doing, but what I was saying. They had seen Rosa and I grow close together, helped us with our relationship when needed. It was doubtful they could understand just what I was saying. Utterly spent, I collapsed to my hands and knees, eyes staring at nothing.
“Bro…” Reed said at last. Half-turning my head, I saw the pink raptor take a step towards me, hand held hesitantly out as one would approach a dog, one they weren’t quite sure was rabid or not. Taking an audible gulp, Reed tried flashing me his best laid-back smile. “You sure this isn’t like, pre-wedding jitters, my man? I’ve got something to calm you down…” My hands dug into the rich earth involuntarily, dispelling his smile in an instant.
“Anon, you’ve got to get a hold of yourself.” Naser’s voice was cold, his voice straining with the effort of keeping his own emotions in check. “This isn’t how the Anon I know would act.” As I rose to a kneeling position, I could see his hands clenched in fists. “This isn’t what Rosa deserves.”
How fucking dare he tell me what she deserves! “And what is it she deserves, Naser?! Does she deserve a good man, someone she can trust? Because that sure as hell isn’t me!” I didn’t even recall moving through the space between us, but my hands found Naser’s lapels, shaking him roughly. “Don’t you fucking get it, you fucked-wing retard! I’m a fucking loser! A-“
My ramblings were cut short by the sound of Naser’s fist meeting my face. Ears ringing, I stumbled backwards, feeling the blood begin to flow from my not-quite broken nose. Naser stood in front of me, chest heaving, his fist still hanging in the air from the punch. The front of his best black suit stained with dirt and blood. Suddenly, I was aware of just how closely Naser resembled his father, in both looks and brawn.
None of the three of us said anything for a long time. I hunched back, like the stricken animal I was, mopping blood from my nose on my sleeve. Reed just stood there, his mouth a thin line of disappointment, eyes fixed on me. It was a long time before Naser straightened himself, turning his back on me without a word and walking back towards the ceremony grounds. I didn’t even bother to stop him, to apologize to one of my closest friends. I just watched him go, blood still streaming down my face.
“Anon…” Reed croaked at last, his voice sounding like he was attempting not to cry. He started to say something, mouth working wordlessly before he gave up, dropping his gaze. Turning slowly, Reed moved to follow Naser, holding his elbow like he always did when he was sad. This time, I didn’t even bother to watch Reed go; I just ran as fast as I could, stumbling over rocks and bushes and anything else in my way. The further I ran, the more my vision blurred, silent tears joining the blood that ran down my face. After a while, I reached the entrance to the arboretum, where the taxis were assembled to take the guests to the reception. Not even bothering to see if it was occupied, I flung open the door of the nearest cab, a dingy beat-up old car that looked slightly familiar, before throwing myself in the back seat.
“Hey, bud, you can’t just- Wait!” It was that damn driver, the one who had ferried me all throughout Volcaldera this past year. His familiar goatee and eyebrows were waxed, and it looked like he had dressed for the occasion, sporting a hideous black and yellow suit. Glancing up from his want ads, the driver glared at me through the rear-view mirror. “Ain’t you the groom? What’s the matta’, kid?”
“Drive. I don’t care where, or how much or when you stop: Just get me aware from here.” And with that, I collapsed across the length of the back seat like a broken toy, giving in to the misery that had been plaguing my soul. As the cab drove away, I didn’t even bother to look back.
A single Middlemist Red Camilla lay in the street, crumpled and abandoned.
***
After I left Rosa standing at the altar, single-handedly running what was supposed to be the best day of her life, my own life lost all meaning. Unable to stand living in my old Skin Row apartment anymore, I quickly moved out, abandoning most of my furniture. The whole thing was tainted by the promises I had made, by the love I pretended to feel. As I stood there in the doorway, looking back at the sad, pathetic room one last time I could’ve sworn I could smell her scent, one last time
Sad and pathetic, just like me.
Afterwards, I drifted from dead-end job to dead-end job, spending time in whatever unskilled position I could bother to apply to. Motels became my home, now, or the backseat of the Junker I managed to buy off of Cragslist. For three long years, I was a emotional nomad, not allowing myself to feel anything. Perhaps I did it out of penance for what I had done, for the ultimate sin I had committed, but I knew the truth: That it was because that was what I was, a nobody, an empty shell that for a few glorious months had been filled with Rosa. At least, before my cracks had begun to leak.
It was on one of these dead-end assignments that I found myself back in Volcaldera. The city had changed since I was away: More trash in the street, more homeless lining the sidewalks. I took it all in with the same apathetic gaze I looked at everything now, not caring about the things I saw, the thing I had become. I could barely remember what the job I had applied for was, except that I was supposed to be here. A three-week stint back where I was happiest, back in my own personal Hell.
The sky above was like a television screen, tuned to a dead channel. Wanting to conserve my gas, I pulled into a random park; or as I often called them, my new home. I would have to move each morning, never parking too long at any one spot, least the cops took me in. I learned that lesson the hard way, a year or so back. Numbly, I stared out of my windscreen, having long since grown oblivious to the spiderweb cracks that spread across the glass. Thinking of the cops reminded me of Ripley, Fang’s dad. Is he still the police commissioner here in Volcaldera?
No, best not to think about those times. Too many wounds inflicted on those people, too much agony spread by careless hand. Settling the seat back, I resigned myself to a few hours’ wait until my shift started, content to let the world pass me by, unmoving and uncaring as a stone. Seems I pulled into some park: Figures moved outside of my car, families and happy couples out for a stroll, no doubt averting their eyes from the shambling mound that was my mobile home.
“¡Ay, mi bebé! Come back here!”
I felt something, the first tiny spark of emotion that I’ve felt in a long time. Whether it was fear or hope, I didn’t know, but I could feel it consume me as I stared out through the spiderwebs. In an instant, that numb facade I had erected vanished, defeated by a familiar voice.
There was no doubt in my mind it was Rosa out there, chasing after her son. MY son. The little boy resembled his mother, but the more I stared, the more I could tell he was different: His eyes more human than dino, his horns mere little nubs jutting out from his bald head. He was running fast, making Rosa half-jog to catch up to him, giggling all the while at the trouble he was causing. The clothes he wore looked like hand-me-downs, the kind you’d fine at a thrift store, and I could tell he was already outgrowing the pair of little shoes he was wearing. How many outfits had he gone through already?
The years had not been kind to Rosa, either: She looked worn-out, no doubt from three years of being a single mother, her eyes sallow, her cheeks gaunt, her once luxurious hair reduced to a poorly-maintained rat’s nest tied behind her. Even her clothes were in poor repair, punctuated with holes and worn along the edges. Clearly every extra dime Rosa had was going towards the little one she was currently chasing. As she finally caught up to him, I could see why: Anger dispelled, Rosa scooped him up in her arms, giggling right alongside with him as she tickled his stomach until he screamed with laughter. It was like all of her troubles were suspended for that brief magical moment, the purest moment of love I’ve ever seen.
As Rosa cradled the toddler she and I made together, he eyes flicker across the row of parked cars in front of her. Reflexively, I flinch below the dash, making sure she doesn’t see me. Would she want to see me, now? After all I did, after what I must’ve put her through. Would she want me in her life, in her son’s life? A deadbeat skinny dad, barely able to hold a job for more than a few weeks, barely living paycheck to paycheck. I can just picture it now: Rosa and my son standing there as I sweep out of my car dramatically, a look of joy on their face as I stride over to them. ‘Why yes, I am your long-lost father who ran out on your pregnant mother and left her at the altar, how could you tell?’ And Rosa would forgive me, because of course she would, Rosa would forgive anyone, would love anyone…
Just like she loved me.
As the scenario plays in my mind, I realized exactly the emotion I had been feeling. It was so clear, now, The sight of the family I abandoned, the thought of t admitting I had made the worst mistake of my life. It wasn’t hope or excitement I was feeling, it was dread. Lung-paralyzing, soul-crushing dread. The first emotion I had dared to feel in years, and it was possibly the worst one I could ever imagine.
Watching my one-time wife and forever-son playing in the park, I managed to start the car, the engine turning over at last. Peeling out of my spot, I turn to do what I’m best at: Running away.
Goodbye, Rosa. It wasn’t nice seeing you, after all.
…
I hope you didn’t name him after me.