Chapter Thirty-Three
Isaac

I wanted to ask. I really did. But it was like the thing with the knife. Even though it kept bothering me, it kept stubbornly coming to the front of my mind for all the times I tried to shove it on back, it kept coming right back at me. I wanted to ask. I even got slightly closer to doing it than I had with the knife, opening my mouth to say something, but only closing it, or saying something stupid if Taylor happened to notice. Things like, “We had fun today with Parker.”

It almost sounded like a lead-in, but it wasn’t.

“Really?” he said, sounding pleased but far away. “I’m glad.”

That was it.

Actually, Taylor didn’t need me to tell him about our adventures with Parker that day. Parker had pretty much talked about it on and on during dinner. The guy could ramble, I’ll give him that. So could I. But I couldn’t find it in me that night. Neither could anybody else. So he took it upon himself to fill the uncomfortable silence, every once in a while encouraging me and Zac to join in, but Zac was in a similar place as me. Only he didn’t know about the knife.

Eventually, Parker had trailed off and was now in his room, alone. It was easy to see that what we had seen bothered him. I was pretty sure he already knew something was going on and this only confirmed his suspicions. I don’t think he knew what, exactly, it was that was going on and I didn’t know whether to count that as a relief or not. In a lot of ways, I wanted him to know. I wanted him to find out, to figure it out so it could all be over.

It was getting to be more and more infuriating, the fact that nobody was saying a word to him. Not Annie, not Taylor, not even Lawrence. I know my mother had had to convince my father to not just march into the room where Parker and Zac were playing the new game he had bought earlier and just spit it out. She told him it wasn’t right for him to tell him. That was the only thing keeping me from saying anything. It wasn’t right for me to be the one to tell him.

I almost took comfort in the fact that, after seeing Taylor with Annie and Lawrence and Mr. Whitney in the graveyard at what appeared to be a funeral, it was really only a matter of time before something was bound to happen. It was about time.

Taylor had arrived home about an hour after we had. I only caught a glimpse of him before he quietly sneaked upstairs and came down with his everyday clothes on, as opposed to the one he wore to weddings and funerals. He had been trying to walk around like it was a normal day, like he had only gone to the dentist accompanied by our mother, but he wasn’t succeeding very well. It was easy to see something was bothering him.

I wanted to ask. I really did. I just wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

He had gone into the bathroom several times that day for periods longer than usual (a true feat when you think about it). I tried to inconspicuously go in after him afterwards, but I never found another knife.

It was getting increasingly harder to keep to myself, but I wasn’t really sure who I was going to tell if I told anyone. I couldn’t directly face him either.

The more I thought about it, the more connections I made, though. I remembered the doctors back in Rochester telling us that they thought that Taylor’s injuries were due to an attempt at suicide. Nobody had really brought it up with Taylor. Nobody wanted to believe it. I found that with that knife, I was really beginning to. Not only that, I was also beginning to believe that he meant business. That he was going to do it again.

Even so, he hadn’t seemed to show too many outward signs of it. Once he had settled in and everyone had accepted the fact that he was home again--if only temporarily--he had been back to the usual Taylor. Happy. Laughing. Serious. Frowning. He seemed fine. If I hadn’t found the knife, I probably wouldn’t have thought twice about it. That was what scared me the most. If my brother was suicidal, he could have already been gone and I wouldn’t have even suspected.

No, I couldn’t keep something like this to myself.

So that was why I had dragged Zac into the backyard, giving the excuse that I had something to show him. We were there, standing in the dark. The light to the guestroom where Parker was was on. The light to the bathroom was also on.

“What?” he said as soon as I thought we were far enough away. He didn’t sound annoyed, only nervous. I suppose he had never seen me act this way before.

“I--” I trailed off.

“What’s wrong, Ike?” he asked, his eyes obviously trying to convey understanding. He wanted me to tell him. “Look, I know something’s been weird with you lately, so just tell me.”

I nodded. I knew he knew something had been wrong lately. Everyone did. Apparently I wasn’t as good at hiding that sort of thing as Taylor.

“I think...I think something’s seriously wrong with Taylor,” I said finally.

His lips quirked into a half-smile.

“Ike, we’ve always known that,” he said. He was trying to get me to lighten up.

I shook my head. “No,” I said.

A pause.

“Are you talking about what we saw in the graveyard today with Parker?” he asked.

“No...Yes...I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know what we saw in the graveyard today with Parker.”

I wanted to ask.

“So what’s wrong, then?” he asked.

I began to pace.

“Ike, what’s the matter?” he said, his voice beginning to rise slightly in volume and pitch. He was beginning to panic because he thought I was panicking.

I was.

I looked him in the eye, in all seriousness. “I think...I think Taylor’s...going to try and kill himself,” I said. It sounded dumb even to my own ears.

“What?” he said.

“I think Taylor’s going to attempt suicide,” I said. “Again.”

“Again?”

“You know what the doctors said,” I said. “In Rochester, they said they thought he had tried to kill himself. I think he’s going to do it again.”

“What makes you think a thing like that?” he said, sounding worried, but unconvinced. “Jeez, Ike, you know the doctors weren’t sure that was what happened.”

I began to pace again. “A knife...in the bathroom,” I said. “Remember that day Taylor took a really long time in the bathroom? I found a knife from the kitchen in the bathroom after he got out.”

He raised an eyebrow. “A knife from the kitchen?”

“Zac, I’m serious!” I said.

“I can see that,” he said. “Do Mom and Dad know?”

I shook my head.

“Well, what did you do with the knife?” he asked.

“I put it back,” I told him. “I didn’t want one of the little kids finding it or something.”

“And you haven’t asked Taylor about it at all?” he said.

“No,” I said. “I can’t.”

He sighed.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” I said.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” he said, “so much as I don’t think Taylor’s the type to do something like that.”

“For God’s sake Zac, who’s to say who’s the the type and who isn’t? Jeez, just look at everything that’s been happening lately. And that funeral we saw him at today. Who was that for? Maybe that had something to do with it.”

“That’s true,” he said. “But Isaac...Taylor’s afraid of needles for Pete’s sake. I don’t think he’d be able to take a knife to himself, if you know what I mean.”

“Maybe he is, Zac,” I said. “And why else would he bring a knife into the bathroom with him?”

“Defense? Some weird habit he learned from Annie? I don’t know. Can’t be to shave with. We all know how much he doesn’t need that,” he tried to joke.

“I don’t think this is funny,” I said.

“Neither do I,” he replied calmly. “I just seriously don’t think Taylor would do something like that. I think whatever happened to him in Rochester had nothing to do with suicide and this probably doesn’t either.”

I sat down on the ground, defeated. He sat down with me.

“What did happen in Rochester, Zac?” I said.

“I don’t think I want to know,” he said. “The more I think about it, the more bad scenarios run through my mind and I don’t think any of them even come close to whatever it was that actually happened.”

“Why is it that we don’t even know what’s going on with our own brother anymore?” he said. “This, the funeral. Everything.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I think we’ll find out eventually. Taylor can’t keep things from us forever. We’re his brothers.”

“Can’t he?” I said back

Is this getting repetitive? Just curious.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Four