by Cheree Alsop
He studied the pictures, amazed at their detail and clarity. He wondered if Daniel had ever tried his hand at tattooing, then tried to imagine the Clarks’ reaction if he suggested it. He set the crutches back down and prepared for his shower.
It was much easier to make it down the hall with crutches than it had been last night. Martin laughed when Chase sat down at the table, for he and Daniel had just woken up also. They had generous helpings of eggs, bacon, and toast on their plates, and were making valiant efforts to put it all away in case of a sudden famine.
“Well, Mr. Brockson, you look like you’re feeling better today,” Mrs. Clark said cheerily upon his entrance.
“I feel much better,” he replied honestly. “And please, call me Chase. Mr. Brockson makes me sound. . . .”
“Old?” Daniel interjected helpfully.
“Like someone I’m not,” Chase replied, trying to smile despite the sudden tightness in his throat. He cleared it and looked at the feast on the table. All manner of eggs, scrambled, over-easy, over-hard, poached, and hard boiled sat with bowls of hash browns, bacon, French toast, pancakes, ham slices, toast, jelly, peanut butter, syrup, and orange juice. “This is an amazing breakfast, Mrs. Clark.”
She handed him a plate. “Everyone likes something different, and I enjoy the chance to make everyone’s favorites over the holidays.” She winked at him. “We’ll just reheat the leftovers tomorrow. Eat as much as you’d like. Heaven knows you could stand to gain a few pounds.”
“Thug Slayer takes health advice from over-protective mother,” Daniel said in a tone of a zealous news reporter.
Mrs. Clark cast him a half-serious stare. “Well, if you didn’t keep him up half the night playing your video games, he’d probably recuperate quicker.”
“He’s the one that came to us, not the other way around,” Martin protested.
“This is like déjà vu,” Daniel said with a half-smile. He rose from the table and saluted Chase. “Farewell, Thug Slayer. We’ll see you at the cruel harvesting of living plant matter for the sake of a single day’s joviality.”
“He means that we’ll meet you at Brecker’s Farm to pick the Christmas tree,” Martin piped in. He grabbed his coat from the hook by the door and Daniel picked his up from where it lay crumpled on a pile of shoes.
“Where are you going?” Mrs. Clark asked.
“To Jerry’s. We promised Rod we’d meet him over there,” Martin replied. At their mother’s continued stare, he reassured her. “Jerry’s parents are there. We won’t get into any trouble.”
She nodded, her lips pursed. “Drive carefully. The roads have been plowed, but there’ll still be ice on the bridges.” They were already out the front door, but she called after them, “Don’t go over 25! Watch out for pedestrians!”
She shut the door and clucked her tongue. “All I need is for them to run somebody over.” She seemed to remember that Chase was there and smiled at him. “I’ll be off to the market for dinner tonight. Samuel, Ilene, and the kids will be meeting us at Brecker’s, so I want to get something started before we leave. Please make yourself comfortable here.”
She gave him a warm smile. “I’d invite you to come with me, heaven knows I could use another pair of hands, but you’ll probably want to rest that knee before we go to the Farm. There’s always a lot of walking when everyone starts getting opinionated about trees.” She laughed to herself as she put away the bowls and leftovers from breakfast.
Chase rose and began to wash the dishes in the sink.
“Guests don’t do chores in our home,” Mrs. Clark said.
Chase shook his head. “It’s the least I can do to thank you for the wonderful meals.”
“Growing boys need to be fed,” Mrs. Clark replied with a serious glance at him. “And you look like you’ve skipped more than a few meals in the past.” She smiled, her tone lightening. “Besides, one or more of Martin’s friends always show up unexpectedly, so we’re used to additional company.”
Chase laughed, then tried to hide a wince at the pain in his ribs. “You have a good attitude.”
“I’ve been blessed with a good life,” she replied. She frowned. “Your ribs bothering you?”
“A bit,” Chase admitted.
“You were practically one big bruise when Clara brought you home. Those guys meant business.”
He could hear the worry in her voice and changed the subject. “You said that Martin’s friends come over all the time. What about Daniel’s?” He set another clean plate on the towel she had spread along the countertop.
“Martin’s friends are sort of Daniel’s now, too. They’ve kind-of adopted him into the circle, I guess you could say.”
Chase glanced at her, taken off guard by the sadness in her voice.
She smoothed plastic over the top of the bowl of scrambled eggs and continued quietly, “Daniel lost his best friend, Ryan, two years ago in October. They’d all gone out to a party Halloween night, only Daniel and Ryan snuck off to a different party even Martin didn’t know about. The older boys at the party thought it would be fun to get the two younger boys drunk. They were fifteen at the time.”
She sighed and sat down at the table, cleaning it with a wet rag while she talked. Chase turned the water off and leaned against the sink to take the weight off his leg.
“I know it probably wasn’t the first time they’d tried alcohol, but someone slipped something into Ryan’s cup. He started to vomit. Daniel tried to get them to call an ambulance, but by the time they believed something was wrong, it was too late. Ryan died in Daniel’s arms on the way to the hospital.”
She traced a pattern on the wooden table top with the wet rag. “It took him a year to start being himself again. He and Martin began to spend more time with each other.” She gave a small smile. “We were so relieved when Daniel finally accepted Martin’s invitation to hang out with Jerry and Rod. He’s done a lot better since.”
Chase shook his head. “What a horrible thing for a young boy to go through.” Memories tried to push their way to the front of his thoughts, but he shook his head again to clear it. His hair fell in front of his eyes and he pushed it back.
“Do you usually have your hair that length?” Mrs. Clark asked in a tone that was carefully neutral.
Chase smiled, aware that she was trying not to offend him. “No,” he admitted, running his hand through it again. “It’s been a while since I’ve had it cut.”
She nodded. “I thought so. Clara’s not a bad hand with a pair of scissors. I’ll mention it to her.” She glanced at her watch, then rose quickly. “Goodness, I could stay here chatting the day away! Of course, then we’d have to order pizza or something.” She gave a martyr’s sigh. “I think Daniel keeps Dominos on speed dial just in case.” She shrugged into her fluffy beige coat, wrapped a purple scarf around her neck, and reminded Chase to make himself at home before she disappeared out the door.
Chapter 4
Chase wandered slowly from room to room. He didn’t touch anything, he simply enjoyed the evidence of a well-lived in, and loved in, home. He stood outside of Clara’s room the longest, drawn to the comfort of the space she had created for herself. She had pictures of her friends and family on the walls, not normal, posed pictures, but pictures of them laughing, building a sandcastle at the beach, chasing each other on roller skates, riding on a roller coaster with everyone’s hands up, a Christmas morning when they were much younger, and of her holding Bailey when he was a puppy.
Dried flowers hung from a decorative shelf between the two windows and on the shelf sat a carved, white stone turtle, a vase with a plastic yellow rose, and a horseshoe tipped to hold good luck. A huge, red rose-colored down comforter had been pulled hastily over still-rumpled sheets, and a worn teddy bear poked out amid the pillows. A pair of pink fuzzy slippers sat where they’d been kicked off on the soft beige carpet. A rocking chair waited in one corner by a window, a white sweater thrown across one arm and a book on the seat. A closer inspection show
ed the book to be Alexander Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo.
Surprised, Chase studied the small bookshelf on the other side of the bed. The top row held well-thumbed paperbacks with creased spines that told of many re-reads. Pride and Prejudice sat on top of the shelf, a bookmark marking worn pages.
The picture frame next to the book held his attention. It was one taken a few years ago of the entire Clark family, Mr. and Mrs. Clark, Clara, Daniel, Martin, Matty, and an older girl Chase hadn’t met but assumed to be Ilene. They were all laughing as if someone had told a joke. By the direction of Mrs. Clark’s rolled eyed, Chase guessed it was Daniel. They all looked so happy, so at peace with each other. Daniel’s hair was blond like his mother’s and he wore a light green shirt. This would have been before he lost his friend, Chase reminded himself.
He continued down the hall searching for a distraction to take his mind away from the path it wanted to travel. As if reading his thoughts and providing him with exactly the opposite of what he wished, he entered the living room to find photo albums spread out on the coffee table in disarray. The first one was opened to pictures of the Clarks dressed up for Halloween. Chase sighed and sat down on the couch, but it was a long time before he turned the page.
When Clara walked into the room, Chase had one of the albums open to some of the early pictures of when Clara was about nine and Daniel and Martin were six and five. Clara had a small brown rabbit in her lap and the boys were petting it. She was smiling and her dimples showed. Both boys looked overjoyed with the rabbit; Martin’s grin revealed a missing front tooth.
The next picture was a close-up of Clara looking into the camera with a half-smile on her lips. The glow in her green eyes said that she had the world at her feet and was confident about every step she would take.
“Mom loves her photo albums.”
Chase turned, startled. “I’m sorry, I-“ He rose. “Would she be angry that I was looking at them?”
“On the contrary,” Clara replied with a light-hearted laugh. “She’d be overjoyed, and then proceed to tell you the story behind each picture, and in full detail.” She looked at the open page and her expression turned thoughtful.
“I really didn’t mean to pry,” Chase apologized.
“You didn’t pry,” Clara replied. She picked up his crutches and handed them to him, smiling slightly at Daniel’s artwork. “C’mon. Eric’s waiting for us in the truck.”
“Who’s Eric?” Chase asked casually.
“My boyfriend,” Clara replied. She picked up another of Daniel’s crumpled coats and handed it to Chase.
He put it on quietly and pretended not to notice her watching him.
A stocky, blond-haired man of medium build met them halfway up the walkway to the house. He held out his hand to Chase, his expression one of genuine gratitude. “It’s good to finally meet you. I owe you my thanks for saving Clara. That took a lot of guts.”
Chase shook his hand. “You’re welcome,” he said. “But I still think she could have handled those guys herself.” He threw Clara a glance and she smiled back.
“Regardless,” Eric replied, “I will forever be in your debt for bringing back my girl safely.”
Chase didn’t know what to say. He eyed the big blue F-150 behind Eric dubiously. “Is that your truck?”
“Yep!” Eric replied proudly. He walked to it and patted the door like a cowboy petting a trusty steed. “Good ‘ole Blue.” He laughed and winked at Clara. “Or should I say New Blue? I haven’t had it that long.”
“Eric is an architect,” Clara explained. “One of the construction workers accidentally dropped a steel beam on his last truck and pretty much totaled it. It took a long time to convince the insurance it was an accident.”
“Yeah,” Eric put in. He opened the passenger door for Clara and gave her a hand to get in. “As if I’d do that to my truck on purpose. It was old, but still ran. My dad’s a mechanic, and I’ve picked up a lot from him, so I’ve been able to keep it running fairly well.” He shrugged and pointed toward the engine. “The new guys, however, are a whole different beast. I’ll have to take it to the shop if it ever breaks down.” He shook his head. “I can’t imagine paying for repairs on a truck.”
Chase levered himself up with his good leg and swung the injured one in, saving them both the embarrassment of Eric offering to help him up. As if relieved, Eric gave him a nod of approval and tossed the crutches in the back.
“Sorry,” Clara said when the door was shut. “I didn’t think about how hard it would be to get in a truck with your knee like that.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Chase replied. “I’ve survived worse.”
She was about to say something when Eric opened his door and climbed in. “To the Farm?”
“To the Farm,” Clara replied.
During the trip out of the city, Chase found himself liking Eric’s easy-going conversation and laid-back manner. They talked about the NFL until Clara made them turn the radio on, then they made fun of the sappy love songs until she turned it off again.
“Boys,” she said. She shook her head and fought off a smile at their heartfelt rendition of Unchained Melody.
They had just started Bohemian Rhapsody, complete with background vocals, when Eric pulled up next to a sign that proudly proclaimed, “Brecker’s Farm- we have the perfect tree for your Christmas!” Rows of cars were parked on the make-shift parking lot which served as a corn field when the snow cleared. The snow was starting to fall again and Chase bet that half the cars would have to be pulled out. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw a man sitting in a tractor ready to assist when needed.
The Clarks met them just inside the gate, bundled almost past recognition in coats, gloves, hats, and scarves. Mrs. Clark excitedly introduced Chase to Ilene, Samuel, and their three children, Isabelle and Kavin, ages seven and six, and the baby, Paige.
“It’s good to put a face to the name,” Samuel said, shaking his hand. “Mom told us what you did.”
“Good to meet you,” Chase replied, smiling at Samuel’s hearty handshake.
Ilene surprised Chase by giving him a tight hug. “Thank you for rescuing Clara and Matty. You’re a guardian angel!” She stepped back and looked him up and down critically, then clucked her tongue like her mother. “And cute!” She turned to Clara accusingly. “You didn’t tell me he was cute!” Chase looked down at the ground and smiled past the faint blush that colored his cheeks.
“Ilene,” Mrs. Clark scolded. She ushered them down the first row of trees.
Ilene slipped her free arm through Samuel’s with Paige on her other hip. “Don’t worry Mom, I’m happily married.”
Chase knew he wasn’t the only one who noticed Ilene’s untactful inflection on the word ‘I’m’, but he concentrated on placing his crutches carefully in the snow and pretended not to notice.
“It’s about time you pop the question,” Ilene pressed Eric.
“Clara would make a perfect mommy!”
“Ilene!” Clara said. She sounded exasperated but not surprised. Apparently they’d had this conversation before.
Paige stated to fuss and Mrs. Clark took her with the enthusiasm of a loving grandmother who has missed her grandchildren. Ilene kissed Samuel and then grabbed Clara’s free hand. With a laugh, Clara kissed Eric’s cheek and then ran off with her sister through the trees, both of them laughing like little girls.
Samuel and Eric just shook their heads. “Girls,” Samuel said with a shrug.
“Up here, up here!” The shout came from Martin. He and Daniel had moved on ahead to scope out the good trees before they were taken.
The group moved good naturedly toward them. Mr. and Mrs. Clark talked baby talk to Paige, who was delightedly tickling Mrs. Clark’s nose with her purple scarf. Samuel and Eric turned from their one word bonding about the sisters to a discussion of the most recent slasher movie in theaters. Chase followed behind as well as he was able to with crutches in the unshoveled snow. All three of the chi
ldren attached themselves to him after Matty’s spirited retelling of their rescue in the alley. Grandma and Grandpa Clark brought up the rear hand in hand, walking in comfortable silence along the tracks of the others.
The first tree was deemed too shabby by Mr. Clark, and they moved on to find another one. The next had too many branches, though Chase couldn’t see much difference between it and the first. The third was too short by Matty’s standards, and Martin and Daniel were already arguing over a dead branch on the fourth pick before they even got there.
By the tenth tree, the children dragged Samuel and Eric off to play ninjas, Paige had drifted off to sleep in Mrs. Clark’s arms, and Chase had fallen back with Grandma and Grandpa Clark. The crisp air, laden with the scent of pine, swept him back to memories of Christmases when he was very young. Chase tried to keep them in the background. “You must be proud to have such wonderful posterity all around you,” he noted.
Grandpa nodded. “Very. When you get our age, your children are all that matter. Right, dear?” He squeezed his wife’s hand.
She smiled at Chase, white curls escaping the shawl on her head. “It’s the love,” she said in a voice that wavered slightly. “Surround yourself with love and you will always be happy. That’s what life’s really about.”
Grandpa Clark glanced at Chase. “But to love others, you must first love yourself. You can’t have one without the other.” His wise eyes caught Chase’s and Chase turned his gaze to the trees ahead of them.
They walked on in silence for a while. Chase listened to the crunch of the snow under their feet. Soft, white flakes drifted slowly down to coat hair, hats, shawls, and scarves in a blanket of white. Clara and Ilene returned, followed by Samuel, Eric, and the kids. Eventually, Martin and Daniel dropped back with the group.
They wandered through the trees in amiable silence, a group separated from those around them by the comfort and camaraderie of companionship. Chase realized that going to Brecker’s Farm wasn’t a trip so much for the tree, but more for reaffirming family bonds, rebuilding relationships, and remembering each other outside of the chaos of normal day to day living.