by Lucy Snow
No one was coming. Glancing at my phone I saw that we were getting close to departure time. “Doesn’t look like anyone else is joining us,” I said, loud enough for the driver to hear.
“Sure doesn’t,” he replied. As if on cue, the attendant from inside the bus station came running out, clasping his thin windbreaker around his shoulders with one hand, blowing steam from his mouth onto the other as he clambered up the bus steps.
“Weather report says the storm’s picking up, you should get out of here if you’re gonna leave.” The attendant looked back toward the path. “No one else’s coming, get a move on!”
The driver nodded and smiled at me through the mirror. “You ready for this? Could get a little bumpy.”
This wasn’t a bus route that made stops, we were gonna start here and go direct to Meridian. Since I was the only passenger, it was almost as if the bus driver was asking my permission — did I really want to venture out with this storm looming overhead, turning the sky in front of us a dark shade of grey well before the hour called for it?
Just an hour ago I was sure I would stay in school for the winter break, but now I desperately wanted to get out of here, if only to sit my parents down and tell them once and for all that I was almost done with college, and that I was going to finish it before I figured out what else I wanted to do with my life.
And that I wasn’t going to get married right away, like they clearly wanted - I wasn’t even close to ready. Grad school maybe, or getting a job. Whatever it was, it certainly didn’t involve settling down and having children in my early 20s.
Hell, I didn’t even have a boyfriend.
My parents might not want to hear it, but it was time to have this conversation once and for all. They had ideas about how they wanted my life to go, and it was time to tell them, make them understand that I had goals too, and that while I wanted to do right by them, I wasn’t going to sacrifice what I wanted just to do that.
“Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
And we were off.
CHAPTER 02 - EAMES
Earlier that day…
There was a storm coming. I could tell that much when I opened my eyes. The cabin felt different. My breath pushed clouds of steam upward toward the dark wooden slats of the ceiling, and I wiggled my fingers and toes under the thin blanket to wake them up.
Storms weren’t anything new around here, but this one felt different already. They say people who’ve suffered injuries can tell when bad weather is coming from how their joints ache. This was something like that, only I didn’t have any injuries to speak of.
I guessed I could call it instinct honed after many storms in many far away places.
I sat up in bed, trying not to shiver as the cold air of the cabin washed over my suddenly uncovered skin. I looked over at the fireplace and tossed around lighting the fire first thing, but decided in the end not to burn the extra wood, since I’d be heading outside soon.
On the other side of the small single roomed cabin was a makeshift desk and chair. My computer sat on the desk, the small generator I used to charge its battery just underneath. After the time I’d put into charging it last night, I’d be good for another few days.
I winced as my feet hit the frozen floor, and I slowly stepped toward the desk, careful not to slip. Getting hurt out here would probably result in dying alone in the frosted wilderness of New Hampshire, and that wasn’t something I was looking forward to just yet.
After checking that there was no pressing business matters that needed my attention, I closed the computer and pushed it to the side of the desk, satisfied that I had earned myself another day to explore after a hard 3 minutes of serious work.
I glanced out the window and shivered in advance, not looking forward to what I was about to do, but knowing that my own carefully prescribed routine meant I didn’t really have any other choice. I pulled on some shorts and my shoes, grabbed my towel, and opened the cabin door.
The wind hit my bare body like a cannon, and all I could think about as I started jogging down the path away from the solitary cabin standing among the forest of trees launching themselves high into the sky and covering the ground with a thick canopy was that my bed, meager as it was, sounded really appealing right now.
I banished those thoughts as best as I could while running the curving path down toward the lake that my cabin overlooked. I hoped for a moment that it would be completely frozen over, but I knew there was a patch that was more resistant to cold due to how the ground and the water met.
Sure enough, as the patch came into view, I could see water all the way down. No respite for me today. I stopped at the water’s edge only long enough to get rid of my shoes and drop my towel before diving in.
Nothing woke me up like cold water, and this water was just on the right side of freezing. I forced my eyes open underwater, seeing a little of the murkiness in front of me before my air gave out and I surfaced to breath as heavily as I could.
I felt the cold rattling my bones as I swam around and around in small loops of the still-unfrozen patch, feeling the inner warmth that was the only hold out against this level of frigidness.
It was invigorating.
On the way back to the cabin, wrapped in my towel, my teeth chattering a staccato beat, I looked up, straining to see past the tree cover, and still feeling the same sense of an impending storm. The clouds had darkened way too much for this early morning, and the entire forest gave off a gloomy sense of foreboding, like it was drawing in a breath right now to save it for later.
Definitely a storm coming; it was inescapable now. I looked at the rough cabin as I got closer, trying to see if there were any weak points I needed to reinforce with the old hammer and nails before the winds and the snow came, but couldn’t find anything glaring.
It would be a rough ride, but the tough little house would probably keep me safe. I might feel a little bit like Dorothy in during the tornado, though, I mused as I closed the door behind me and rubbed my hands together.
After lighting the fireplace and starting to heat a kettle of water, I dried myself off and got dressed, deciding to check my computer one more time before getting back outside and finishing my storm preparations - I needed a bit more food before I could feel ready to spend a couple days cooped up inside the small shack.
Nothing again on the computer — even though the satellite internet was spotty, I could see that my suppliers had no issues with customs, my shippers had received the products on time, and customer service reported that everyone was happy with a minimum of returns.
After opening up my bank website and checking to make sure my investments and accounts were in order, I set down the computer once again, resolving not to bring it out till my regular evening status check.
The kettle had gotten close to boiling, and I used the water to make coffee and heat up a couple hard boiled eggs, enjoying my breakfast while looking out the window at the oncoming clouds.
Just as I was about to head out the door and check the traps I’d set yesterday, thoughts of fresh meat running through my head, I heard an unfamiliar sound piercing through the quiet of the small room.
I stopped dead in my tracks. It had been weeks since I’d heard that sound, and for a moment I didn’t know what to do.
It was my phone. Ringing. I’d almost forgotten that phones could ring. I’d almost forgotten that I’d kept charging the thing even though no one called me, and I liked it that way.
I turned back to the desk and stared at the phone sitting next to the computer, out of sight and forgotten till just now.
It kept ringing.
I wanted it to stop, but it stubbornly refused, and I thought for a second it was getting louder and louder in its obstinacy.
I finally picked it up and accepted the call without looking at the screen — if someone was this persistent, they’d get at least a minute of my time. Time was one thing I had a lot of around here.
“Eames,” the voice on the other en
d said.
Of course. “I’m here. What’s this about?” I stayed standing. I wasn’t going to let this take long.
There was a low chuckle from the other end. “It’s good to hear your voice too. Where are you?” He sounded older than he had before, but maybe that was just because it had been so long. I buried the pit rising in my stomach. He certainly knew how to push my buttons exactly the wrong way.
“Nowhere you need to know. Is there something you need? I’m a little occupied around here.”
“Tell whoever she is to get out of there, you’re busy for now.”
“That’s funny; but it’s not like that. I’m alone. And, as I said, occupied. Was there anything else? Or was this just a social call?”
Another chuckle, this time quickly paved over by a wave of coughing that made me reflexively push the phone away from my ear until it passed. “You don’t sound good.”
“That’s why I’m calling.”
“Oh? What’s wrong?”
“I’ll tell you more about it when you get here.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Listen, Eames, I get it.” For the first time in my life, the way he said that actually suggested that this time, he really did get it. “I know you’ve been off on this journey of yours, and I totally understand it.” He coughed again. “Hell, I even respect it.”
That last part was new. “Can you repeat that? You’re breaking up.”
“Wise-ass. You heard me the first time.” He coughed again. “Get your ass down here. We need to talk.”
“We don’t have anything to talk about, I thought I made myself clear last time.” Last time was 3 years ago, and even mentioning it still brought up fresh memories of the shouting and the silence and the reproachful looks.
“You made yourself clear, but now things have changed. And it’s time for you to get a real job, Eames. Stop gallivanting around the world and settle down, make something of yourself. You can’t keep living off-“
“Don’t talk about money with me.” I glanced over at the computer still on the desk. “I’ve got plenty of that. You never-“
He cut me off, and I could hear the exasperation in his voice. “You have responsibilities here, Eames, and it’s time you started paying attention to them. The world didn’t stop just because you want to find yourself. Meridian didn’t stop. The business didn’t stop. There are things you need to take care of, and you can’t do that from wherever the fuck you are right now.”
I shook my head before realizing that he wouldn’t be able to see me. “I haven’t heard any good reason why I should come see you yet. Got anything better?”
Another wave of coughing. “You’ll come, Eames. I know you that well. You want to know why?”
“Tell me. I can’t wait.” I realized then that I was holding my breath. How did he have such a hold over me after this all this time, over all this distance?
“Because you’re a Beckett, and being a Beckett comes with responsibilities. I’m not going to be around here forever, and we need to talk. So this one time in your life, you’re going to show up when your father calls.”
My mouth stayed clamped together, my face flushed with anger.
“I’ll expect you here in 3 days,” he continued. “That should be enough time for you to wander out of whatever brothel you’re holed up in and clean yourself up so your mother can at least pretend you’re living your life respectably.”
And then the call ended.
I looked around the empty cabin as I set the phone down, fuming. I don’t know how he was still able to do that to me. Even from far away, all he had to do was reach out and call and he could upend my entire day.
I clenched my fists together till the knuckles were white, and contemplated jumping in the lake again just to try and wash away this feeling I had, but I managed to get things back under control.
All his talk of responsibilities and making a real life for myself was broken record stuff — my father had never understood my need to travel and see the world, to experience life before I got back to family obligations. If I ever did.
I still wasn’t ready — if there was anything I knew in this world, it was that.
Still, as my eyes fell over my computer and I thought again about the work I’d done around the world, the business I’d built, the money I had coming in, and how little that seemed to satisfy my father, I couldn’t help but feel the bile rise in my throat.
I should have stayed put. I should have gone out and checked the traps as I’d planned, and eaten a good hardy fresh meal before battening down the hatches and getting ready for the oncoming storm.
But, almost mechanically, almost without direct control, that wasn’t what I did. I gathered my stuff, packing the cabin up with a speed I wouldn’t have assumed possible given that I had lived there for weeks now.
After glancing around one last time to make sure I had everything, I hefted my backpack and closed the door behind me, locking it and trudging down the path.
I headed back toward the lake, a sense of worry that I wouldn’t come back this way growing in the back of my mind as I got further and further from the cabin. I stopped at the water’s edge again, looking up at the angry sky as it warned me of more to come soon.
“You really think this is going to get your head screwed on straight?”
“I don’t know that. I just know that what I’m looking for isn’t here,” I shrugged. “I’ll try and find it somewhere else. Plus, it’ll be a good way to-
“What the fuck does that even mean? I swear, you kids these days, with your feelings and your journeys and your self discovery.”
I didn’t say anything. What could I add to that? I knew what was coming next.
“In my day, self discovery meant getting a job and putting in a full day’s work, not traipsing around the world tapping on a computer.” He picked up my laptop bag. “You’re gonna make money with this?”
“Yeah, Dad, it’s not unheard of. I can work from any-“
He held up a hand. “Save it. I don’t want to hear it. You have a job here, at the company. You can start Monday. No travel required. In fact, we have a place you can live too. I won’t even charge you that much rent.”
He thought he was being very clever. “That’s not the point, Dad-"
“What is the point, Eames? You don’t think what I’ve built is good enough for you?”
“That’s not it-“
“Then what the fuck is wrong with you?” He whirled around like a tornado. “How could you do this to your mother?”
I knew he was baiting me, and I hated myself for taking it, but he was my father. I couldn’t just disappear without talking to him about it. I owed him that much. “I’ll come back and visi-“
“Sure you will.”
I walked around the table and got my bag. It felt heavier than when I packed it, like my father had stuffed it with the weight of his disappointment in me.
“All the things I’ve built here, son, all of them were because of you. For you and your mother. I sacrificed so much, and this is how you repay that sacrifice?”
My shoulders fell. I didn’t have the strength to argue with him on this one after all. None of this was mine, and I couldn’t live with that. It was too much responsibility, too much for me to carry right now.
And it was much too difficult to put that into words he would understand.