by Laura Gibson
She hated waking up in these moods. There was really no rhyme or reason for them, they just popped up out of nowhere, showed their ugly little faces and squatted on her shoulder for the whole world to see for an indefinite period of time.
Once Rhett asked her if she’d like to see a therapist about it but Jane declined. She didn’t need someone else telling her there was something wrong with her brain, she already knew that. She just needed time to pretend like it was all going to go away fairly soon.
One more run, she would tell herself, one more day and she’d wake up a new person and she’d be able to fully appreciate Rhett for everything he was.
Jane swallowed to get rid of the cottonmouth her anxiety was creating now that she had really dug up all her demons. Now that she had fully committed herself to that line of thought this morning.
Truth was, Rhett was the better half of the couple. He was always the one to make sure they had a place to go, their dishes were clean, and their clothes were neatly folded and put away. He took care of them and Jane was grateful for it, but at the same time she felt almost worthless.
All she was ever good at was sitting in her studio and painting odd pictures that never sold. Or sometimes they did sell and Jane would get a small check back for her hours of hard work put in. In those rare instances, Jane would take Rhett out to dinner and try to spend her measly commission on a nice meal for them but he always seemed to grab the check first and pay with his card before she had a chance to argue.
“Use that money for your art.” Rhett would respond with a laugh and a smile, “You don’t need to waste it on me.”
Rhett didn’t know this, but his wonderful nature was causing Jane even more self doubt. She knew what she came from and she knew what sort of blood ran in her veins, it was just a matter of time before anyone else found out. And now her brother hadn’t written back in several days. That didn’t bode well.
Jane rounded the bend, finding the path to be devoid of any animal life again and her heart sank in her chest a little bit. She hoped that Alphie was alright. Being a wild animal and not actually her pet, Jane hoped that Rhett was right and he had just moved on.
The flash of gray on white snow is what caught Jane’s eye first, then her sight rested on the yellow gold of an eye that chilled her to the bone. Jane swallowed and closed her eyes.
Then she was running. She was running for her life and her soul and every piece of her that was screaming for absolution. Her heart was clenched within an icy grip, understanding holding still in the forefront of her mind.
There was no crashing in the bramble to give validation to her fear but still she ran until she had reached her front porch, her lungs screaming with her mind that she just wasn’t safe.
Keys held in shaking hands, she managed to unlock her front door and slammed it closed swiftly behind her.
She fell into a heap on the floor in her entry way and wasn’t sure if the spinning of her head was due to a lack of oxygen from her flight or if it was from an anxiety attack. She swallowed and felt her pulse pushing against her veins, pounding her chest, shaking her body.
Slowly Jane crept up and looked out the side window to see if the wolf had followed her. If it had found her. The road was empty but Jane could sense it just on the other side of the tree line that hid the jogging path from the rest of the world. She knew it was there.
Jane drug shaking limbs up the stairs and peeled off her sweat drenched clothes. Not bothering to shower, she pulled Rhett’s sweats on and an old t-shirt that was four sizes too big for her.
Finding herself in her studio, her legs having a zombie-esque quality to them as they willed her forward, she grabbed a new canvas, pouring new paint, oranges, reds, yellows, all the colors that she would need to expel her true fear.
Every thought for the past few days had lead to this point. This one singular moment when she knew, Alphie was gone. Either he had sensed the coming predator or he had fallen victim to its hunger, it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was the truth. Alphie was gone.
Jane made the line that would start the snarl, the one where she knew sharp teeth resided that would tear at flesh and rip open all the soft bits of an animal.
“Jane?” Rhett’s voice was a questioned whisper as he pulled her from her intense focus on her painting.
Startled, Jane jumped and looked behind her, “What are you doing home so early?”
Rhett looked concerned, “It’s ten p.m. I’ve been home for a few hours.”
Jane swallowed and looked back at her almost finished painting, “I guess I lost track of the time.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Rhett stepped forward, looking at the painting, still frowning. He was always worried about her when she behaved this way.
Jane shook her head, “No.”
“It was a woodchuck yesterday. Wolf today.” Rhett cleared his throat, unable to come up with the questions he really wanted to ask.
“I think Alphie is dead.” Jane’s voice was flat.
Rhett nodded, “Let's go to bed, honey.”
He held an outstretched hand for her to take, to pull her from the stool and away from the project that had taken up her whole day. Jane took it, if only to stop him from asking any more questions. He was a good man and she didn’t want to upset him anymore than her odd behavior already had.
She wanted to believe that she wasn’t like her brothers or her mother. She wanted to believe that she could fight past the sickness that infected them all, but it was days like this that grounded her firmly in reality. She should have just ceased all contact like her mother told her to. That would have been the easier choice. The better choice.
Her brother hadn’t written to her in several days and now Jane hoped that maybe he would forget about her and move on with his life. He didn’t have to involve her in the lies he spun so carefully around him. They both knew what would happen when he was found out. They both knew how damning those letters could be. And still, they wrote them. Because having a family was better than having nothing at all.
In an afterthought, Jane looked back at the painting as a whole and shivered, she had never liked wolves.
Kaliningrad, Russia
Kelly
A long time ago, Kelly had dreamed he and his cousin Ryan would be the best of friends and no amount of money or social standings would keep them apart. He had an idea in his head that blood was stronger than the pull of socialites and he and Ryan would overcome and everything would turn out fine in the end.
Anna, Kelly’s older sister, had seemed to understand this and wormed her way into being a part of their world, but Kelly was never as fortunate. Whether it was by name, or merely because he was a male, more was expected of him before he could really break in.
He attended all required functions, never rocked the boat, never did anything to the contrary and yet, he was still an outsider. Someone allowed to watch the festivities, but never actually enjoy them.
But then again, Kelly wasn’t as smart as Anna. She was clever and cunning, someone who knew what she wanted and went for it. Kelly was softer in the beginning years of their childhood. He didn’t bully with the older children and he didn’t stick up for those being bullied. He was tender and he was ignored for it. So he learned to act out after awhile.
Now Kelly was older and he was looking at all of his past actions as mistakes in a long line of commitments that he didn’t pick out for himself.
Kelly stared at his feet as he marched up the dock and towards Mikhail’s car, he didn’t want to do this. Every part of him was telling his body to stop. To turn around and go back to The Reliant, but he had to keep up appearances. He wasn’t a Prescott, he was a Hill. And that meant he didn’t have the luxury of choice. He was at the whim of his betters and they knew it.
“Hey, hang on there a second!” Bill called from the deck of The Reliant.
The three of them stopped and turned around to see Bill walking towards them at a brisk clip, “You know
what, why doesn’t Kelly just stay on the boat with us?”
Kelly felt his lungs inhale with relief at that sentence. He would love to stay on the boat with Bill where it was safe. Casimir may make him nervous, but he hated Ryan and he knew, given enough time, he would hate Mikhail too.
“I thought you said he wasn’t suited for it?” Ryan sounded offended that people weren’t fighting over him again. Upset that he couldn’t get all the attention even if it was about something he had expressed utter disgust about.
Bill rubbed his jaw and put his hand on his low back, thinking it over one more time, “Kelly’s a smart boy and who knows, maybe he’ll take to it.”
Kelly witnessed Ryan’s eyes narrow in distrust and jealousy as his father’s words registered in his mind but he didn’t say anything to the contrary, anything to let them know he was visibly upset about what had just happened.
“Well, come on then, we don’t have all day.” Bill started back for The Reliant and Kelly followed, happy to have been noticed. Happy to not be with Ryan anymore.
Back on deck, Casimir seemed to regard Kelly with smarter eyes than his brother. “You look like a man who understands the value of work.”
Kelly shrugged, he had watched his father toil for everything they had while others, namely his cousin, got whatever they wanted in life. Sure, he could say he valued it. Or he could say he just knew his lot in life.
“Sometimes, in order to get somewhere in life, you have to do things you don’t want to do.” Casimir was continuing as they began walking towards the service elevator, headed for the cargo deck.
“Makes sense.” Kelly cleared his throat and felt an itch for a cigarette, knowing he couldn’t light one up here. Not in front of Bill. Not in front of Casimir.
“My brother is an idiot.” Casimir said as he pushed the call button for the elevator and the doors swung open.
Kelly looked at Casimir, knowing the Russian wasn’t trying to be mean, he was just being honest, or what he felt to be honesty. They stepped into the elevator but Bill stayed in the hallway, his face telling Kelly that he was unhappy about something.
“I’ll meet you in a little while.” Bill said, trying to force a smile.
Kelly frowned, this was the first time he had seen Bill ‘The Bull’ Prescott unnerved by something. He was usually the steadfast rock of the group, the one who always had a plan, who always knew what to do, but here, he looked scared almost.
Casimir nodded at Bill and pushed a button, signaling the large doors to slide shut, closing Kelly in with him.
Kelly swallowed, “I’m sorry your brother is an idiot.”
Casimir snorted, “I’m not. Every family has one, I’m just glad it’s not me.”
Kelly chuckled, more nervous than anything else, “Well, it takes a village.”
Casimir raised an eyebrow, “Does it though? Does an entire village have to suffer and cater to the whims of one idiot?”
Kelly gave Casimir a sideways glance, he could sense something coming, but he didn’t know what. Kelly wondered who the idiot in his family would be and he decidedly chose that position for his father.
Did one whole village really have to suffer for their idiot? Kelly cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest, hoping that Casimir wouldn’t notice his conflicting feelings that were no doubt flitting across his face.
The elevator stopped and the doors opened once more, revealing the cargo bay, wooden boxes piled on top of one another for what seemed like a mile.
“This, Kelly Hill, is my village.” Casimir stepped out of the elevator and grabbed a crowbar leaning against the wall. Without waiting for Kelly, he started walking down the first row of crates.
Kelly took a few quick strides to catch up to him and then slowed once they were side by side again.
“It is a small empire, enough to make me wealthy, but not enough to sate the idiocy of Mikhail.” Casimir sniffed, coming to a stop in front of some crates.
“See, the problem, Kelly,” Casimir was now opening a crate, putting his full weight on the crowbar, “isn’t so much that Mikhail is stupid. I mean, he is, truly, moronic. But the real problem is that he’s greedy too.”
The crate opened and Casimir tossed the crowbar off to the side, ignoring the loud clattering it made against the metal flooring. He stepped closer the crate and pushed the lid out of his way. “If you’re smart, you can afford to be greedy.”
Kelly stepped to look into the crate as well and saw that it was only three fourths of the way full, its contents covered by a large black cloth.
Casimir sighed, “But if you’re stupid, sooner or later, your greed is going to catch up to you.”
“I’ve never understood greed.” Kelly was honest with Casimir. He didn’t want everything in the world, he just wanted enough. His family had been dealt a shit hand and he wanted to make up for that.
“Me neither.” Casimir rubbed his face, thoughts running across it that he couldn’t or wouldn’t verbalize. “To tell you the truth, that’s why I told Bill you’d be a good fit here.”
“Here?” Kelly asked, hoping Casimir would clarify.
Casimir pulled the lid back to its regular spot but neglected to pick up the crowbar as he walked back towards the elevators. “Are you hungry, Kelly? I’m starving.”
“Don’t you want to check the other crates?” Kelly asked, grabbing the crowbar and jogging back to Casimir.
Casimir smiled, his pale face darkened by malice, “I already know all I need.”
Kelly put the crowbar back where Casimir had gotten it and stepped into the elevator with him. “I am kind of hungry.”
“Great.” Casimir pushed a button and the doors slid shut. “We have a lot to talk about.”
August 29th, 2007
Charleston, West Virginia
Logan
The muggy August air was oppressive and it made Logan feel even worse about what he was doing. Like he was suffocating in Kelly’s bad choices and misery along with him.
Logan impatiently kicked a rock and waited for Kelly to show up. Kelly ran on his own time, always had, always would, and Logan was the one that always seemed to be left holding the pieces together after Kelly acted on impulse. And it seemed like impulse was the only setting Kelly had these days.
This was their regular meeting spot. It was out in the open and Kelly assured him it was safe, as safe as they could get now. It was the same parking lot where Logan M. Logen had first met Kelly, even if it was abandoned now. It used to be the hangout for all the little hoodlums of the neighborhood.
Logan had been seven years old and very scrawny for his age. His arms and legs looked like identical noodles that barely supported his weight and he had yet to make actual friends. But what could he do when he read whole letter grades ahead of the rest of his playmates? No one was paying enough attention to him to notice he was reading ‘girl books’ and so no one set him straight before the bigger, meaner kids found him.
Logan will never forget the day, it was one of the only reasons he became the person he was. Some son of bitch twelve year old was sitting on top of him, busting the shit out of his lip and all Logan could do was cry, wondering what it was that he had done to so offend the brute. Later Kelly would be the one to tell him to get his act together and stop reading Nancy Drew. But that was only after Logan had a fat lip and black eye to prove children's cruelty.
In those days Logan still went by Merriam, his grandfather’s name and his middle name, but apparently playground bullies thought it was an easy target, what with it sounding like a girl’s name. Couple that with his love for Nancy Drew novels and Logan was almost surprised he survived his childhood. Almost.
Logan didn’t like to think of the memory because it made him remember just what warm piss felt like his jeans, but whenever he drove into town to meet Kelly, he couldn’t help himself. It was like a stray cat that just kept coming back. Willing to take your food, but always leaving you with a scratch for your trouble.
Kelly also had a run in with the twelve year old earlier on in the summer and had figured out a way to make sure he never bothered him again.
So, covered in tears, blood, and snot, Logan witnessed the most heroic thing of his entire seven year old life.
A thin kid who hadn’t been washed in days, his light blue t-shirt tinged a dirty brown, baggy pants that were meant to fit someone else much larger, came running at them with a lead pipe in his tiny hands.
It was the battle cry Kelly elicited that startled the twelve year old and made him turn around, but it was the sound of metal hitting a body that made him get off Logan.
“I told you never to come back here!” Kelly shouted, one hand balled into a dirty fist, the other still gripping the pipe. “Or you want me to hit you again!?”
Before the twelve year old could respond Kelly was raising the pipe once more and was rushing him, fully ready to use his melee weapon.
Logan skittered away from the mad boy with the pipe and stood a little ways off, watching the entire altercation.
After the bully had been sufficiently scared away from the old lot, Kelly turned back to Logan. “I’m Kelly.”
Logan scrunched his face together and thought about his next words carefully before he said them, he wanted to make sure he got them just right, “Logan Merriam Logen.”
Kelly’s crooked smile filled his face, “You got a girl’s name.”
“So do you.” Logan frowned.
Kelly shrugged, “Yeah. But I got a pipe.”
Logan looked over at his Nancy Drew book on the ground, some pages torn from the beginning of the fight. “Dad says fighting is for bullies.”
Kelly rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders, “I’d rather be a bully than a loser.”
“I’m not a loser!” Logan shouted, angry that anyone would call him that.
Kelly shrugged again and started walking away.