Peace Love Resistance

by Jettie Woodruff

  The van was fairly hidden, a clearing just off the dirt road, shaded by layers and layers of maple and birch leaves. Perfect shelter from the elements, and a wide open clearing allowed for full sun a few feet from her camp. Two solar panels sat alone in the middle of the small field, the moon illuminating off the blue glass. That explained the lights, and the cables I saw running out the back and the flash of light I’d seen from my room. Dry wood was stacked below the van and the fire smoldered, stamped out by the swift storm.

  I left, knowing I shouldn’t. There was no way anything good could come out of this, and you didn’t need to be a physicist to figure it out. A weary feeling pooled in the pit of my stomach, but I still accommodated Tristan’s wishes. Against my will of course. The engine spit and sputtered for three kicks, and I knew it was a sign. It wasn’t going to start because I wasn’t supposed to leave her. I’m not sure if I’d call it fortunate or unfortunate, but on the forth kick, the motor purred like a kitten, nothing wrong with it at all. With one last look back, I knocked it into first and drove out of the cove, the lingering, uneasy feel following with the remaining sprinkling rain.

  The ride back home wasn’t filled with adrenaline and a pounding heart like it had been before, but it was still one of those moments. As I drove down the narrow hill, illuminated by a dim headlight, it all came rushing back. Step by step I played the night out in my mind. The screaming echoing through the valley, the blood, the baby, the storm, my instincts, my reactions, and that physical thing I’d felt that I was still unsure about. She was different. That’s for sure, but it wasn’t fair for me to say she wasn’t all there. Rather than judging, I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt, revisit the situation after a few hours of sleep. If she was still there that is. I had a hunch she wouldn’t be and it would be because of me. She’d leave due to being afraid of me blowing her cover. Whatever cover that was.

  I delivered a real life baby. Tobias. A baby named, Tobias. After me. That might be something I never grasped. It was too surreal, too dreamlike, and bazar. Once I’d buried my bloody shorts in the bottom of the trashcan, I jumped in the shower, trying to wash away the tension; the craziness of it all. No matter how many times I tried to shift my mind to something else, it didn’t work. For the first night since I had been left behind by my friends, my girlfriend, and the vacation of a life time, I thought about something else. Not how my life was over, not how much I hated Odessa Falls, not how much my parents made me sick. Nope. None of the things that pissed me off before were even there. Tristan, a girl full of mystery and a baby named after me, that’s what I fell asleep to. Tristan and Tobias.

  And the birth. That one played over and over and over and over.

  Chapter Three

  Change is the essence of life;

  Be willing to surrender what you are for what you could become.

  ~Reinhold Niebuhr

  The sound of a rooster echoed in my dream, a comatose state toppling on the edge of consciousness. A creak in the springs when I rolled over, the sun shining bright in my eyes, and the chicken, crowing right outside my window reminded me where I was. Hell… But then my eyes opened wide, my mind moving right to Tristan and baby Tobias.

  My hand brushed over my phone, and I jumped up, rushing to dress, not believing the time. Yes, it was only ten, and extremely early for me, but today I had somewhere to go, someone to see. I slid into a pair of trail shorts and a new Under Armor tee in route to the toilet. With my toothbrush hanging out of my mouth, I washed my face, and combed through my hair with my fingers, rushing out and down the stairs as fast as I had the night before.

  “Hey, you were right. Your dad said Mr. Cornwell down the road heard a scream, too. I wonder what it was.”

  I frowned at my mom, moving to the food on the counter. “I’m going fishing. Can I take this bacon?”

  My dad moved behind my mom, pouring two cups of coffee, greeting her with a kiss first and then me, a smile and a good morning. It made me sick to watch. Literally sick. Like I felt the bile rising in my throat.

  “I’ll go throw a line with you. Remember the Y? It’s still the best stream around to catch trout.”

  “No, I’m just going to take your bike. I’m not sure where I’ll end up. Can I take this bacon, Mom?”

  “It’s your bike.”

  I ignored my dad’s generous statement, keeping my attention on my mom and not him.

  “All of it? Your dad didn’t eat yet. Sit down. I’ll fry you guys some eggs and then you both can go catch us some lunch.”

  I rolled my eyes at my mom, completely closed off. “Forget it. You can have the bacon. I’ll see you later.”

  My mom called to my back, but I didn’t turn around. “Ty? What the hell? Come back. Stop being such an ass for God’s sake.”

  I heard my dad tell her to let me go as I stepped out to the porch, slipping into my sneakers and then jumping the three steps with one leap.

  Right…Like I was supposed to pick up where we left off at seven, fishing for trout by the Y, just me and my dad. That’s really what they expected? Really? Ignore the kid when he’s little, confuse the hell out of him with a new life in a city, and then bring him back. Moreover, let’s all be one big happy family since we failed at it the first time. Give me a break.

  The engine coughed and sputtered, finally coming to life with a pitiful rumble, a maintenance warning I ignored. Nervous energy rose warmly in my chest, the start of a rapid heartbeat, and high vitality adrenalin, gushing through my bloodstream just like the night before. Almost. Maybe not quite that intense. Nonetheless, I followed my intuition, hoping for whatever reason that she hadn’t left, praying to a God I didn’t believe in that she was still there and everything was okay. Bad thoughts flooded my mind, thoughts of a sick baby, or worse yet, a healthy baby and a dead Tristan. How would I explain that?

  My too little for me, yet loyal bike, putted across the dirt road, across the bridge, and up the other side to the awaiting van. Once I reached the top of the grass covered path, I killed the engine, drifting down the slope with Tristan in sight. I studied her, quietly sitting out in the middle of the sunny part of the land. Her legs were crossed and her hands rested on both her knees, the baby buckled to her chest with a pink, checkered cloth, strap looking thing.

  Nothing looked out of the ordinary. The camp didn’t look like a birth had occurred at all. It looked like someone was camping, that’s it. I walked down to her, cautiously coming up beside her, unsure of what was going on. She sat Indian style, frozen with her eyes closed and her fingers forming a circle over both knees, her spine stiff and straight as a boar. Even though I knew she was meditating, I found it odd. I’d seen it on television countless times, but I’d never met anyone who did it. Again, I felt an uncomfortable strangeness about her.

  “Hey, you okay?” I asked in a quiet voice.

  Tristan opened one eye and took in a long breath. The exact same way my mom did when she’d had enough of me. “Yes, I’m fine. Toby’s fine, we’re both fine. Do you mind?”

  “You can’t have my name if you’re going to call him Toby. I hate the name Toby. Why do you think I’m Ty?”

  “Fine, I won’t call him Toby. What do you want?”

  “You don’t have to be a bitch,” I stated, my eyes peering over her shoulder to see the baby. A smile I hadn’t even summoned instantly slid across my lips. He was so little, his fuzzy little head and tiny nose barely visible.

  Tristan took another breath, her body squirming back to a meditative state meant to brush me off. Her eyes closed and she swallowed, her face turning toward the sun. “You seem to think you have some sort of power. I don’t work like that.”

  I frowned, stretching my legs out to sit with her. “Huh?”

  “I’m not being a bitch. You can’t make me mad,” she said, her tone unconvincing like she was trying to convince herself more than me. “I don’t let other people have that control over me. I’m not angry with you, Tobias. I just don’t understan
d why you’re here. What do you want?”

  Even though she didn’t open her eyes and she couldn’t even see me, I shrugged both my shoulders. “I dunno. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “I am, and so is Tobias. We’re good.”

  “Are you going to make him wear pink his whole life?”

  Tristan opened her eyes again, this time directing a condescending frown my way. “You’re the only one judging him.”

  My ego instantly opened its tail feathers. “I’m not judging him. What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Tristan closed her eyes and turned her attention back to the energizing sun. “You’re the only one who cares if he’s in pink.”

  Knowing there was no losing or winning that one, I changed the subject. “Do you need anything? I can run to town on my bike if you want.”

  “No, I’m good.”

  Awkward silence nestled between us, for me anyway. Tristan seemed to be fine with the stillness. Maybe a little annoyed at me, but once again, I felt a little entitled. I did just deliver her kid. Then again, it could have been the fascination with not only her, but the baby, too. She seemed like she’d done this before. All of it. There was zero apprehension going on here. Tristan was more than comfortable with being a mom. Way more relaxed about it than I would have been.

  “So, did he eat?”

  Tristan audibly let out another breath. This one exasperated. At me. “Yes, he’s eating just fine, and I wasn’t trying to meditate here or anything. Tobias, what do you want?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want anything. I’m just trying to be here for you; be your friend. I mean I did just deliver your baby and all. You could at least give me that.”

  “And I said thank you. What else do you want? I have some stickers that look like grapes in the van. They have funny faces. Do you want a sticker?”

  Again, silence fell between us, our eyes locking in an awkward trance. “You’re not being a bitch, right?”

  That got a smile. The tension on her face eased, releasing the two wrinkles across her forehead. “What do you want from me?”

  “Can’t we just hang out? We could walk down to the stream.”

  She was being a bitch whether she wanted to admit it or not. It was evident, written on her face, and heard in her words. “I don’t want to walk to the stream, Ty.”

  “Why? Because you’d rather sit here and be a bitch?”

  “No. Because I pushed a baby through my vagina last night. It hurts, I’m still very sore, and I’m not walking any further than I have to.”

  I felt like an ass, but I didn’t know. What did she expect? Guys didn’t think about stuff like that. “Oh, yeah. That makes sense.”

  “I really am fine, Tobias.”

  I pulled my legs to my chest, resting my arms over my knees. “You could at least have a reason for hating me. You don’t even know me.”

  “I don’t hate you, Ty. I’m glad you came to my rescue. I’m glad it was you and not someone else. I’m grateful for your help, I truly am. We’re just too far apart.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “It means I’ve been awake for a very long time, and you’re a sleep, hypnotized by a system built to keep you there.”

  I couldn’t help it. Sometimes she said things that made absolutely no sense at all. None. My one word response came out hoarse, a gravely tone that I had to beat from my chest. “What?”

  She leaned forward, another deep breath, but this one sounded more like boredom or regret, followed by what I thought was a grunt from pain. “It doesn’t matter,” she moaned, her hand going to her lower abdomen as she tried to stand.

  I came to my feet, alarmed, offering my hand to help.

  Tristan’s fingers touched mine and she jerked away, but not in a mean way. It was more like a shock or a sting. Like there was something transferable in our touch. Our eyes held an intense gaze, both our eyes wide until she broke it. She unbuckled the strap like she’d done it a thousand times, handing me the tiny, tiny baby. “I’ve got it. Just take him for a second.”

  Little Tobias, squirmed as I cradled him in my arms, a squeaky noise escaping when he stretched, his eyes remaining closed. I looked down in total awe. I’d never held a baby in my life, however I was sort of in love. He was so tiny, so perfect, and helpless. So dependent. My smile dissipated when I watched Tristan struggle, trying to stand through the pain. Without asking, I pulled my finger from Tobias’s grasp and once again, offered my hand and a smile. A real genuine smile that confused the hell out of me. It wasn’t like I even knew what I was smiling about.

  That right there proved my feelings. Her soft hand landed in mine, transmitting energy that was felt. Literally felt and there was no denying it. Not the first time and not this time. Tristan felt it to, I knew she did. She stood, her hand still in mine and her eyes communicating something cosmic to mine. Another something that I didn’t quite understand. Without a doubt one, there was something going on. Something I was pretty sure had been there from the moment we exchanged glances in the street. What? I don’t know, but it was there.

  “I—I’ll take him now,” she stuttered, her eyes breaking the shared moment.

  I let her take the baby from my arms, watching her lips meet his little head, sidestepping the undeniable event with trivial small talk. “How long you staying for?”

  Tristan walked away, back toward her homemade camper-van below the thick trees. “I’m not sure. They only allow fourteen days disperse camping here. A week or two.”

  “And then what?”

  She shrugged, her head tilting to the side, painfully limping away from me. “I’m not sure yet. Heading to Virginia for a weekend and then back here. Maybe Maine after that. I love their beaches and I have a favorite boon-docking spot there, too.”

  “Boon-docking? You’re in the boondocks. What do you mean?”

  She flipped a certain look and a smile over her shoulder, her eyes sending a new message. Only I couldn’t figure out what it was. It was almost like we were friends. Like she liked me. Sort of. “Exactly. Free camping in the boonies.”

  “Oh, dispersed camping. Why didn’t you say so?” I shrugged, my head tilting to the side. I did know what that was. Mason, Thomas, and I camped at Slab City in California once. It was only one night and came from a lost bet, but still sort of the same thing. All you had to do was take out the crazies that lived there. “I mean, if you don’t like civilization, I guess it’s okay.”

  “I don’t. Open your eyes. How could it get any better than this? Look at this place. I have a continuous stream of clean, healthy spring water just down the path there,” she pointed, her fingers flicking with her wrist, “A view you can’t help but appreciate, a river with cascading falls, permeating the most ambient music as it glides over magnificent rocks. No noise. No distractions. Fall asleep to that once,” she added, direct to the point like it was magic or something.

  I knew the sound she spoke of. There was a loft in the old barn where I used to sit as a little boy, listening to that exact sound for hours. My eyes shifted to the red building clear across the field, remembering the time I’d spent in that square hoe, lazily listening to the sounds of nature. “Well, what are you going to do all day? I mean. Don’t you get bored?” I questioned, my feet coming to an abrupt stop. My phone suddenly dinged, not once but about ten times, one right after another. The amazing revolution stopped every other unimportant thing around, and I shushed her with the realization, “Oh my, God. Three G’s. I’ve got service. Look. I’m serious. Face Book messages. Jesus. That was the longest two days of my life.” I exclaimed, a ridiculous grin and excitement I couldn’t contain. Finally. The world.

  Tristan dropped her eyes toward my phone and back to me, but this look I could read. She was disappointed in me, and just like everything else, it confused me. It made me wonder what I’d done wrong. She walked to her van, stopping to look back at me with disappointing eyes, answering the question I’d forgotten I had asked
. “I don’t get bored. This is what I mean, Tobias. We’re too different. We don’t need to do this. I come here to enjoy the serenity. You know? I’m not really looking for friends, especially friends that I have nothing in common with. You catch my drift?”

  I caught her drift, I caught it loud and clear, but I still asked just to be clear. “You want me to leave you alone?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Not even knowing why or why it even mattered, I played the only trump card that came to mind. “But you named your baby after me.”

  Again, Tristan smiled, her eyes softening with her words. “My dad’s name was Tobias. He was always going to be Tobias if he was boy.”

  “Oh,” I said, my face falling, matching the sadness in my tone. As silly as it was, it sort of crushed me to hear that. It stung like hell.

  “I’ll see ya. Thanks again for the help.”

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll see ya around.”

  I straddled my bike, kicking it started on the first crank, my heart in the pit of my stomach. Like I was empty, like I was riding away from a beautiful tragedy, like I was leaving a part of me behind, only I didn’t know why. Whatever. Fuck her, I decided. At least I knew where I could go to reach the real world and I would, too. Making a mental note to claim that very spot once she left, I sped off with nowhere to go. Back down the mountain, to my side of the river, thinking about her camp. I could toss a tent there, maybe a hammock, make it mine. My place to relax while reaching the real world.

  That should have been it. I should have learned my lesson, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Something magical happened the night that baby was born and there was no denying it. Something was there. Something powerful that I wanted to understand and explore. Something that only happened once in a lifetime.