A Crooked Mile (Rust Book 1)

by Samantha Arthurs

  “So. Heathcliff.”

  That got her attention and she turned sideways in her seat, visibly balking at the bruise blossomed over the apple of his cheek and the slight swelling beneath his left eye. “Jesus! What happened to you?” She asked, leaning over in her desk a bit for a better look. She normally wouldn’t have dared to get so close to him, but the shiner was really impressive and commanded further inspection.

  Alec blushed a little, giving her a half-shrug and clearing his throat. “I was dicking around with my brother and bashed my head off the corner of my nightstand,” he told her, though she swore she could hear the slight waver of a lie in his voice. If he didn’t want to tell her truth that was his business; it wasn’t like they were friends or anything. “Anyway, we aren’t here to talk about me. We’re here to talk about Heathcliff. I personally think he’s way better than Edgar Linton ever dreamed about being, but maybe that’s just me.”

  “It’s not,” Ramona assured him, cracking a little smile. “So you’ve read this book before? Interesting to know since most people wouldn’t bother reading a book that wasn’t required in English class. Most people our age especially don’t read it and enjoy it enough to have a fully formed opinion on Heathcliff either. I like him too though, so you’re not alone.”

  “Good, because if you liked Linton then we’d just have to pick another book, as I couldn’t possibly work with someone with such an absolutely wrong opinion,” Alec told her, actually cracking a smile. Even with the bruise she couldn’t deny that he was handsome when he smiled, a thought she felt rather silly for thinking. Everyone, or at least the majority of girls at Rust High, thought that Alec was absolutely gorgeous. She was not going to be part of the status quo just because he threw her a smile. He was still scum just like his friends were as far as she was concerned.

  Ramona looked at her notebook again, pretending to be busy so she wouldn't think about it anymore, flipping the pages open and grabbing her pen with a little more gusto than was necessary. “We still have to figure out what sort of project we want to put together,” she told him, writing the date at the top of the page to give herself something else to do besides gawk at him some more. “Any ideas on that at all? I was thinking maybe we could do a really comprehensive report, breaking down the book, analyzing it. It would give us a lot to work with.”

  If the look on Alec's face was any indication about his feelings towards her idea, then it was definitely a bust. Ramona had figured a nice, thick report was the easiest way to go, and would allow them both work a bit more independently of one another. Clearly he didn't share the same sentiment, and she put her pen down with a huff.

  “What then?” She asked, irritated just enough now that she didn't have any recurring thoughts about his face. “If you don't like my idea, then throw me something else.”

  “Well, what about a cable news report? Or maybe a series of reports? It would be cool and different, and we could get across a lot of the same information just in a more pleasing format. Written reports are boring; we do that all the time. We have a chance here to do something more interesting and fun,” Alec pointed out, sounding genuinely pleased with his idea. “Think about it! We could report about Wuthering Heights and the weather on the moors, and we can talk about Catherine's relationships and about Heathcliff running away. There would be birth announcements, death announcements, and marriages. I mean this book has everything, including ghost sightings. We can write the segments so they reflect what we think different things mean, breaking it down to make the viewer understand better. It could be a lot of fun.”

  Ramona hated to admit, but it really did sound fun. It was also evident that Alec liked the book and knew quite a bit about it, which she appreciated it. She didn't meet too many other kids her age that enjoyed classic literature, and she wasn't sure she'd ever met a boy who did. That alone was enough to make her agree, but the idea itself was a pretty good one. They could still do all the things she'd want to put in a written report, but with a new spin on it. The class would probably enjoy it too, since they wouldn't have to sit through them reading and breaking down a paper. She found herself agreeing as she started to scribble things down on her paper, pen flying across the page.

  “Great, it's a good start at least. We can figure out what we want to write the segments on and we can split them up. We can even film in different places to make it look more authentic. Montana doesn't exactly have any moors, but we can find somewhere convincing enough,” Ramona decided as she finally looked up, finding Alec staring at her with an amused look on his face. “What?”

  “Nothing,” he shrugged, giving her a goofy little grin. “It's just nice to see you excited about something. I mean every time I see you at school you usually look like you're on death row or something. It's a nice change, that's all. You should try this happier expression thing a lot more often.”

  Ramona made a face at him and turned back to her notebook, making a few more small notes. She would have to pull out her copy of the book off the shelf that night, because a reread was going to be necessary. She could make more notes from that, and mark some pages that would provide interesting fodder for their project. He was right about one thing; there really was a lot to work with once you dug into the meat of the story.

  “We're going to have to work after school a few times a week if we're going to pull this off. “ She was trying, not so subtly, to shift the conversation into a new direction. “We'll have to spend a week or two writing the segments, and then we have to film them all. Then we'll have to find a way to edit them.”

  “My brother can help,” Alec interrupted, leaning over to look at her notes as she wrote. It made Ramona nervous, but she didn't show it. “He's a computer guy, I'm sure he has some editing software or he can get some. Bryson won't mind, I'll ask him about it after school. I have a video camera too and it's pretty new, so we can use that to film. Maybe we can get together this Friday after school if you want to. We could go to my place after class, there's plenty of room to work there and nobody will bother us.”

  That was a relief to Ramona, who did not want Alec Davis coming to her house. She wasn't ashamed per say, but she knew that they lived practically on two different planets. Not to mention that after school hours at her house were hectic, and there was nowhere to go to escape her siblings. She had planned to suggest the library or the park, but his house was just as good as anywhere else. Though there was one small worry that she couldn't shake off though, bringing it up to him just before the bell rang.

  “What about your friends?” She asked, closing her notebook and stacking her things neatly again. “They'll probably make fun of you if you invite me to your house.”

  Alec had thought about it that, but he didn't tell her as much. Instead he just shrugged again, tenderly touching his cheek and wincing a bit. “It’ll be fine,” he insisted with another little smile. “It's for school, and anyway it's not really their business. They'll just have to get over it.”

  “It’s high school, Alec. Nobody ever gets over anything,” Ramona pointed out, a cloudy look crossing her face. She was thinking about her stutter, and how it had been corrected so many years ago. That had never seemed to matter though and she would be forever labeled Stuttering Sanders. Would they still call her that at their ten year high school reunion? Knowing the kind of jerks that populated the halls of Rust High School, it was entirely possible. The thought of it made her shudder, and she resolved to just skip any and all high school reunions. It wasn’t like she had anyone worth reuniting with anyway. “If you’re sure though, I’ll meet you at your place after school on Friday.”

  For a brief, flickering moment Alec thought about offering her a ride with Cameron and himself, but he thought the better of it. He could just picture the look on Cam’s face, and the things he was apt to say, and it really wasn’t worth it. Meeting her there was the best and most humane option, for both of them. He readily agreed and then they set to work plotting out more ideas for their projec
t, using the battered copy of the kept on the classroom bookshelf as a loose guide for their ideas. They made a few sound decisions about potential segments and who would narrate them, and then English class was over. They went their separate ways for the rest of the day, two people existing in the same time and space without actually acknowledging one another.

  Chapter Six: Shrinking Heads

  Alec was pulled out of class early on the second Wednesday of every month so his mother could drive him to Fort Benton to see his doctor. It was true that he could have driven himself, a little plastic card from the Montana DMV said as much, but it was a long drive to make alone and his mother worried that he might try and skip out on his appointment. Which was a distinct possibility, because he didn’t necessarily know that these little visits helped at all, but he was willing to keep going for the peace of mind of those around him. There had also been a recent compromise wherein he was down to one appointment a month instead of two, which satisfied him enough that he didn’t put up a fuss about going.

  In all reality, Alec didn’t honestly mind his appointments every month despite feeling like he wasn’t gleaning much from them. It was a place to vent, and he knew it gave his mother a peace of mind. Even now, after all he had been through, Alec was still fretted about making his mother and Bryson worry about him and he still wanted to please people. The bruise on his face couldn’t deter that need, and he wasn’t sure that there was anything that could. It was why he played sports, why he tried so hard to make good grades, and why he was constantly pushing himself. He pushed to keep his father from pushing back, to try and keep balance in the house and as much peace as he could between them even if it wasn’t much. He wasn’t supposed to push so hard, Doctor Linn said as much, but old habits die hard. Even the habits which are very, very bad for your mental health.

  Doctor Linn’s office was located in a dismal looking medical building just a couple of blocks away from the Missouri River Medical Center. It was a one story gray brick mess that curved into an L-shape around a courtyard with a bench and too many oversize ferns. The inside wasn’t much better, the walls painted dingy white with bright, cheery paintings placed here and there to try and make it feel more welcoming. It just made Alec feel a bit awkward, since he knew that most of the building was comprised of mental health professionals and that there was no painting in the world that was going to make most of the patients feel more cheery. He didn’t complain though, at least not out loud, because he liked Doctor Linn. He had started seeing her four years ago when he’d returned back to Rust from Colorado, and he felt comfortable with her. She was the one person with whom he could really open up, and that felt good.

  Nobody can keep everything bottled up all of the time. Sure, there were a lot of things that he hated to talk about. Things that made him feel like life had a dismal outlook, and things that made his palms sweat and his heart race with anxiety. She made it okay to talk about them anyway though, and she never had a look of judgment in her eyes. That was the thing he appreciated most because nobody wants to be judged, least of all when they’re at their lowest point and not able to find their footing again.

  His mother dropped him off at the medical building, watching as he made his way inside. She usually did some shopping while he had his hour long session, and then she would swing by and pick him up again. They almost always had dinner together at his favorite pizza place, Expeditions, before heading back home, which was a predictable routine that he liked. Routines were nice, they were normal, and anytime he could have a slice of normalcy in life he would take it.

  Alec settled into the waiting room, paging through a worn out and marked up old copy of Highlights for Children. It took about twenty minutes before his name was called and he abandoned the hijinks of Goofus and Gallant to head back to Doctor Linn’s office. Unlike the waiting room area, the office itself was homey and comforting. The walls were a soft beige color, and there weren’t garish paintings but instead a series of black and white Ansel Adams prints. A brown leather sofa sat against the wall beneath a large print of Yosemite’s Half Dome, and a large oak desk sat in the corner. She never sat at the desk but instead in an arm chair across from the sofa, where she could be more comfortable. It made Alec feel more comfortable too, like he wasn’t being studied but instead spoken to as a friend.

  Doctor Linn was waiting for him when he entered, already perched in the armchair with his file balanced on her knee. She gave him a warm smile and gestured for him to take his usual seat, pen already poised to begin. When she saw his face though she visibly faltered, her warmth replaced with unmistakable concern. It made him feel self-conscious as he arranged himself on the sofa; sitting slouched down with his hands on his thighs.

  “Do you want to talk about what happened?” Doctor Linn asked gently, sitting up a bit straighter in her chair. She lowered the hand holding the pen, her concern outweighing the need to take notes.

  For a brief moment Alec considered the truth, ugly as it was, and what might happen as a result of it. Would his father get into trouble? Did he want his father to get into trouble? He didn’t honestly know how those things worked, but he knew it likely wouldn’t turn out good at all. Finally he forced a smile, rubbing his now sweaty palms over his jeans carefully.

  “Just wrestling with Bryson, no big deal or anything; it was pretty stupid. I’m usually not so clumsy,” Alec told her, curling his fingers into his palms. He held his breath then, watching her as she watched him in return. Her concern turned to sadness, her eyes softening as they took him in.

  “This is a safe place, Alec,” Doctor Linn told him gently, “you can always tell me the truth. I can tell by your body language that it wasn’t really just you being clumsy. Did someone do this to you? You can tell me about it, I won’t judge you at all. Did it happen at school? At home?”

  Alec felt suddenly ashamed, his heart beating so hard he felt it in his throat, like he couldn’t swallow from it. He knew that Doctor Linn was being honest with him and that she really wouldn’t judge him, but that didn’t make his shame any less. It was so funny to him, the things that he felt shameful about. When the Bad Thing had happened he hadn’t felt ashamed about it. No, that had made him feel guiltier than anything, because he had disrupted the lives of his family with his selfishness. Getting hit by his father, however, made him feel like a child who had been chastised for doing something wrong or bad. It wasn’t as though he thought he had brought it on himself, oh no, this was all on daddy dearest. It was just the act of admitting it that made him feel queasy, like saying it out loud was somehow worse than the thing itself.

  So he lied.

  “No, nobody hit me. I fell,” he insisted, shifting positions and unclenching his fists. “We were goofing off, and I hit my face on the nightstand by my bed. Mom thought we’d killed each other, she was pretty upset at us, but it wasn’t so bad. A little ice kept most of the swelling down, I just feel like a total idiot.” That much was the truth, at least. He really did feel like an idiot for testing the limits of his father, for daring to push too hard. He had done it to stand up for his little brother though, and that he would not to back. Not for anything in the world, because he loved Bryson and he would not see him fall victim to their father the way that he had.

  Doctor Linn accepted her defeat, picking the pen up again. She knew better than to keep prying, to push too hard. That was what made kids clam up, and then their session would be entirely wasted. She made a simple note to bring it up again in the future, when the event was in the past and perhaps not nearly such a tender subject, and she moved on.

  “Last time you were here we talked about home and how it makes you feel. You told me that Rust makes you feel isolated, that it’s a lonely place. Do you still feel that way? How do you feel when you’re lonely?”

  Alec sighed a little and rubbed his face, thinking about Rust. It was an isolated place, so far from anything and smack in the middle of nowhere. You could walk for miles and miles in either direction and rea
ch nothing but a distant lake and maybe some ponds here and there. Everything else was just wheat in the summer, dirt in the fall, and deep snow in the winter. You could keep going and going and never get anywhere and that feeling made him feel hollow inside. It was like Rust was a trap that had been set for him, and he couldn’t cut himself free from the snares.

  “I feel sad when I’m lonely. I mean I feel pretty down a lot of the time, even with the medicine, but when the loneliness seeps in its even more so. I feel like I can’t breathe, if that makes any sense. There’s all this wide open space, this big huge sky, but it’s suffocating me. You’d think a space that big and open would make you feel free, but it doesn’t. It makes me feel like I’m in a cage,” he admitted to her, speaking fast and breathing a little harder. It was like the mere idea of it got his pulse up, his heart not able to steady itself. “It isn’t just the place though; it’s the people in it. Everyone talks about getting out, but nobody ever does it. It’s like this impossible thing, something that none of us will ever achieve. I feel like if I can’t get out that I’ll go crazy, that it’ll take whatever pieces of me are left. There aren’t a lot of pieces to give up, doc. You know that, and I know that. What if it takes what there is and I’m not anything anymore?”

  “There are more pieces of you left than you believe, Alec. Something bad happened in the past, yes, but that doesn’t mean it took all of you. Or that it even took any of you. The pieces are there, we’re just working hard to put them all back into place. You make yourself believe that you have no future, that there isn’t anything to look forward to. You need to believe that there is though, you need to let yourself see that the future is a brighter place than you imagine. So maybe nobody else has gotten out, but that doesn’t mean that you won’t. You’ve overcome so much already, and I have faith in you. You’re strong. Try to hold on to that thought.”