by Liz Durano
Sawyer turns to face me the moment I step into the living room. “I have an idea,” he announces. “It’s crazy but hear me out.”
“What is it?”
“You and Tyler should stay in the earthship Todd and I just finished. You don’t even need to buy anything for it. It’s furnished and ready to go.”
I look at him incredulously. “You mean, move to New Mexico? I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
I make my way to the couch and sit down. “What about Drew’s parents? Tyler’s their only connection to Drew and they’d be devastated if I left. I’m also not sure if it’s safe to raise a child out there.”
“Why wouldn’t it be safe to raise Tyler out there? It’s like any community, Al. It’s just off the grid.” He follows me to the couch and sits down. “Earthships are like regular homes, just off the grid and sustainable and you can raise a family there no problem. I’ve seen families move out there because they want to live sustainably. Some stay for awhile and some discover it’s not for them but at least they gave it a try. Todd and I live close by and I can introduce you to my friends, Dax and Harlow and their twins. A boy and a girl, Dax Jr. and Anita Pearl. I think they’re a year and a half. They’d make good playmates for Tyler.”
I study his face. “You really are serious.”
“I am,” he replies. “Look, Al, you don’t have a job and soon, you won’t have a place to stay. The only family here is Drew’s and while it’s true that Tyler’s their only link to him, I just got the impression from Kevin that you guys don’t get along.”
“We don’t.”
“What about friends?”
“Most of my friends were Marine wives, back when Drew and I lived in Camp Pendleton. It’s been almost two years, but we still keep in touch via email or social media. Other than that, I’m the only Marine wife I know around here,” I reply. “But I have friends here, parents I know from the library and the park where I take Ty, but that’s it.”
“Look at it as a fresh start… a new beginning. New surroundings, new experiences, new friends.” Sawyer pauses as a whirring sound from the car repair shop next door pierces the air. He waits until it dies down. “Definitely none of that.”
I laugh, knowing he’s got a point. “You make it sound so easy, Sawyer.”
“Because in many ways, it is.”
I blow air between my lips. “So, hypothetically, if I say yes, how soon would I have to rent this earthship you just finished?”
Sawyer shrugs. “Hypothetically, how soon do you need to be moved out of here?”
“Yesterday,” I reply, laughing as a blast of pressurized air from the repair shop punctuates my point. “How long is the drive to get there? I can’t fly with my stuff. It will be too expensive.”
“Normally, thirteen or fourteen hours, give or take. Spend the night somewhere in between, like Flagstaff,” he says. “But I wouldn’t let you travel alone. We can drive together. We can rent a trailer for your things. Your SUV has a hitch, right?”
“Yes, it does.” Drew had outfitted the hitch on my SUV when we first bought it three years ago, before his last deployment. We used to go camping a lot though we never camped again after he returned because everything angered him, from fellow campers talking too loud or the park being too crowded.
“I can help get everything sorted with the trailer and the hitch and I’ll help you pack your things,” Sawyer says. “But don’t rush with your decision, Alma. Think it over. Weigh everything before you call me.”
“How long do I have before you’ll need to rent it to someone else?”
“A week?” Sawyer says. “Although I have to admit you don’t have much time. You need to find a place sooner than that.”
I chew on my lower lip, the idea of embarking on a new adventure slowly becoming real with every passing minute, but at the same time, it’s just so sudden. For one thing, I can’t just spring the decision on Drew’s parents with hardly any notice. Or can I? At the same time, I don’t have the luxury of procrastinating any longer.
“I’d hate to have you fly back here just to drive with me, Sawyer,” I say. “I can think about it tonight and let you know in the morning. But I also hate the idea of you missing your flight.”
“No rush, Alma. Flights can be cancelled. I’m in no hurry anyway.” He pulls out his phone. “If you want, I can send you the pictures so you can check it out for yourself. If you have any questions, just call me. If I’m still in town when you decide, I’ll stay and help you pack and we can drive together. How does that sound?”
“I’d love to say yes right now but I have one more place to look at this afternoon.”
He taps on his phone display, my phone buzzing seconds later as each photo arrives in my inbox. “Then check it out and let me know then. You know where to find me, Al.”
Two hours after Sawyer leaves, Doreen and Frank Thomas arrive in their Mercedes SUV as I’m about to put Tyler in his car seat so we can check out the last apartment. It’s a back house that’s five blocks away which the landlord claims is a quieter part of town. She said it came with a yard I’d have to share with the tenants in the front house but that it would be ideal for a couple or in my case, a single mother.
As Doreen gets out of the car, I can see the annoyance on her face immediately. She’s tall and slender, looking every ounce the society maven that she is with her perfectly-coiffed blonde hair and expertly applied makeup. “Kevin said Sawyer kicked him out. Is that true?”
I nod. “Kevin was rude to him and to me. And so I asked him to leave, but he refused.”
“He didn’t have to manhandle Kevin. For chrissakes, he was only visiting his nephew,” Frank says, his lips pressed in a thin line. At 60, Frank Thomas owns a company that has been contracting with the defense companies in El Segundo.
“Visiting?” I shut the passenger door and pull open the driver side door. “By walking into my apartment unannounced—with his own key that I never gave him? No, I told him many times before that he couldn’t do that and yet he ignores me.”
“Where are you going?” Doreen asks. “You mean we can’t even say hello to our grandson now, too?”
“Of course, you can. But I have an appointment in ten minutes so I can’t stay,” I say. “I’m scheduled to bring him over to your house tomorrow so can you wait until then?”
“We just keep an eye on him while you go to this appointment,” Doreen says, her tone hopeful.
“I’ll bring him over tomorrow just as we agreed,” I say as they exchange a look between them. Like Kevin, they used to come over any time they wanted until I set a schedule where I would drop Tyler off for a few hours. It allowed me to run errands and get some time for myself. But after they took Tyler to a play place without my permission and then kept him longer than we had planned, I’ve had to stay with them the whole time. There was also that time when I saw an active search window on Doreen’s laptop screen just before she closed it. Why would she be searching for information on California custody laws?
“Kevin tells us you haven’t found a place yet,” Frank says.
“I haven’t made a final decision yet.” It’s a lie but it’s better than nothing.
“Why don’t you and Tyler just move in with us?” Doreen asks. “You could stay in Drew’s old room and we can convert the guest room next door as Tyler’s nursery.”
“It’s what Drew would have wanted,” Frank adds.
“That way, you’re not alone and we can actually keep an eye on Tyler while you return to work,” Doreen adds. “Your teaching credentials are still current, right?”
I sigh. Of course, my teaching credentials are still current and they already know that. Ever since Drew died, they’ve constantly questioned every decision I’ve made, whether it was my choice not to return to work right away so I could spend more time with Tyler or my decision to breastfeed until he was a year old.
“I have to go, Doreen,” I say, as my phone beeps a notification that
I have ten minutes before my appointment. “I’ll stop by with Tyler tomorrow at noon.”
They don’t argue with me and I drive off, watching them from my rearview mirror until I turn the busy intersection. Ten minutes later, I park in the driveway of a single-story house with peeling paint, its garden littered with beer cans and the grass brown in large patches.
I grip the steering wheel and stare at the garage door, one of its windows patched with duct tape. In the back seat, Tyler is amusing himself with one of the toy animals hanging from his car seat handle and I’m grateful that he doesn’t know what the heck is going on. I look around me, noticing the broken fence and the cracked glass pane next door, the metal security doors on most houses across the street.
What the hell am I doing here?
I pull out my phone and scroll through my text messages, starting with the first picture Sawyer sent me, of a futuristic dome standing in the center of the frame next to a wind mill. It’s surrounded by a field of sagebrush and behind it, the Taos mountains, snow covering one of the peaks. The next picture is a view from a doorway, of a wide living room with a colorful mosaic of floor tiles and to the left, an indoor garden lush with plants. I recognize kale, Brussel sprouts, and artichoke.
I look up at the house in front of me and the general neighborhood I’ve struggled to call my home for the last year since Drew’s death. Of course, I struggled. All I wanted to do was disappear in the crowd somewhere. I was tired of everyone looking at me with pity in their eyes and for some, blame over Drew’s suicide. I take a deep breath and look at my phone again, at the pictures of adobe walls and the Mexican tiles, of the lush indoor garden against a window overlooking the sagebrush.
I take a deep breath, knowing that getting out of the car to check out the last apartment would be useless, not when what I really want to do is see Sawyer’s earthship with my own eyes, smell the air and feel the ground beneath my feet. I want so many things right now, like all the moments I’ve lost to fear, grief and regret—moments I can’t get back anymore. And I don’t.
For what I want is a new beginning. I want to start over.
5
Sawyer
It’s been two days since Alma surprised me with her decision to move to Taos. But at the same time, I’m glad she decided to take me up on my offer to rent her the earthship. She’s going to give it a try for three months and that’s good enough for me. At this point, anything’s better than living next to the damn car repair shop and having Kevin come and go as he pleased.
I return my rental car and take a cab to Alma’s apartment. After spending the last two days helping her pack while Tyler spent time with his grandparents, I’m excited to finally head back home. With my next security assignment not for another few weeks, I have all the time in the world to do whatever I want. It’s one of the perks of working part-time for Trident Elite Security, a rare advantage only because Todd and I met the owner when we were kids vacationing in Lake Winnipesaukee. Sure, the pay isn’t as great compared to working full-time, but I’m also a simple man. I don’t need much to be happy. And out there, living off the grid, I have almost everything I need.
Well, almost.
I arrive at Alma’s apartment at eight and find her loading the last of her bags and a cooler into the SUV while Tyler sits in his car seat, clapping his hands when he sees me. I give him a kiss on his forehead before I help Alma arrange the bags in the cargo area along with my duffel bag.
“You excited yet?” I ask as she sets Tyler’s diaper bag on the floor space behind the driver’s seat.
“Are you kidding? I’m so excited I’m actually shaking!” Wearing a blue t-shirt, dark yoga pants with her hair secured in a loose bun, Alma’s hazel eyes sparkle with excitement when she speaks. Even without makeup, she’s beautiful.
Suddenly her smile fades, her brow furrowing. “Ty and I visited Drew yesterday and we stayed awhile. I told him what we were doing, and that we wouldn’t be able to visit him for awhile.” She sighs. “I know he’s been gone a year but I got used to visiting him every week.”
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“I know. But I also know I can’t keep blaming myself for what happened and stagnating, not moving on.” She rubs her hands on her thighs. “Anyway, I need to do a final check of the apartment and leave the key.”
When Alma goes back to the apartment, I turn my attention to the trailer hitch lock and make sure it’s secure. Though I’d already checked it last night after I loaded Tyler’s disassembled crib, it doesn’t hurt to check it again. It keeps me from thinking about Alma. As I pocket the keys, she makes her way back to the SUV.
“Guess that’s it. I left a message with the landlady that the keys are inside the apartment. Oh, and there are sandwiches in the cooler. I made them with whatever was left in the refrigerator. That way I don’t waste anything. Egg sandwiches, ham and cheese, roast beef. There’s also salad, couscous and baby food. And water,” she adds.
“That’s a great idea. Thanks, Al.”
She laughs. “That’s what happens when you’ve got a refrigerator to empty out.” She pauses, covering her mouth with her hands before bringing them down. “Gosh, Sawyer, I still can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“If you’re having second thoughts–”
“And waste all those sandwiches and the hours of packing we did? Heck no! It’s just surreal, that’s all. But it’s a new adventure and I can’t wait.” She checks Tyler’s seatbelt and hands him a plastic giraffe. “What’s our itinerary?”
I take the map from my backpack and unfold it on the hood of the SUV. As she stands next to me, I can smell roses in her hair and I remind myself to focus on the map in front of me. “We’re heading up the I-15 East to Barstow, and from there, we take 40 East all the way to Albuquerque. And then we head north to Santa Fe and then Taos.”
“Where are we stopping for the night?”
I fold the map and hand it to her. “Flagstaff. I made reservations at a hotel for the night.” When she looks at me in surprise, I add, “Separate rooms.”
“Oh, okay,” she says, tucking the map between the center console and the passenger seat. “I can drive part of the way, if you want.”
“You don’t have to. I actually like driving,” I say. “If we didn’t have the trailer, we could even make a detour down to Sedona but we can’t.”
“Have you been there before?”
I nod. “A few times.”
She thinks for a moment. “Oh, that’s right. I remember Drew saying that you were seeing someone there for awhile. Weren’t you?”
“That was years ago,” I mutter, hoping she doesn’t ask any more questions. The last thing I want to talk about is Sage, the woman who helped me get rid of the demons that followed me all the way from Afghanistan... even Iraq where I was deployed first. She did a type of bodywork that had me feeling like I was going through a meat grinder while I was on her massage table and then later, dreaming up weird shit. It worked that she did some type of Reichian therapy to help me deal with the stuff that came up from my previous deployments and the blast that almost took my leg, the same blast that killed Smith and Jonas.
But no matter how painful the sessions were—all ten of them—she got me and my injured leg straightened out somehow. To this day, along with everything she told me to do like Tai-chi and even yoga, I barely walk with a limp although it takes effort. Before I realized it, I’d also stopped taking almost all the medications the VA prescribed for me. It was alternative medicine to the extreme but in my case, it worked. Too bad Drew refused to give it a try, calling it wu-wu medicine and nothing but a way to part him with his money.
It’s been awhile since I’ve heard from Sage but after my sessions ended and I started channeling all my energy toward building earthships, we started sleeping together. Turns out she had her own demons, too, and for some weird reason, she said helping others with their stuff allowed her to take care of hers. I haven’t talked to her in two yea
rs and last I heard, she was in LA working on rock stars and billionaires although I’ve never looked her up.
A silver Toyota sedan stops behind the trailer just as Alma slides into the passenger seat. She bites her lower lip. “Oh, great. It’s Drew’s parents,” she mutters, getting back out. “Can you keep an eye on Ty for me?”
“Sure.” I’ve met Drew’s parents twice. Once during a barbecue at Drew and Alma’s house and the second time, during his funeral. They’re a formal couple, both of them highly successful in their fields: Frank Thomas owns a small firm that contracts with military defense companies and Doreen owns a successful flower shop on Palos Verdes Estates.
As they get out of the car, Alma slips past me to meet them.
“This is not right, Alma,” Doreen says as she walks toward the SUV in her tailored beige pants suit. “You can’t just take our grandson away from us like this. I would have thought we talked sense into you last night.”
“I’m only doing what’s best for Tyler and me.”
“Best? By moving to the middle of nowhere with our only grandson?” Doreen exclaims before turning to me. “And you? How dare you put it into her head to move out there? That’s no place to raise a child!”
“That’s not true, Doreen, and you can’t blame Sawyer for this,” Alma says. “And please lower your voice; I don’t want to upset Tyler.”
“Upset Tyler?” Doreen scoffs. “He doesn’t even have a say about this. You’re uprooting him from the only family he knows.”
“I’m family, in case you’ve forgotten. I’m his mother,” Alma says calmly. “If you want to say goodbye to him, he’s in the car.”