A Split in Time
Page 29
Tanner’s face went from white to red—more monster than wizard. “You’re right.” He got to his feet. “We don’t belong here.” He swung one end of the rope around the tree and made a knot. “Get out of here Warren. Leave me alone.”
Warren stood up and gazed at the ladder.
Look away, then—
“Tanner.” Warren’s voice trembled. Tanner tied a second knot and pulled on the rope. “Tanner, look at me.” Warren put the urn in his pocket. He grabbed Tanner by the shoulders and spun him around. Tanner’s shirt read LOS CABOS: ALL THE THERAPY I NEED. Warren searched Tanner’s eyes for any sign of a glint and gritted his teeth when he didn't see one. “If I asked you to leave me alone, what would you do?”
“I would leave you alon—”
Warren shoved him into the tree, pulled out the urn, and held it up to his face. “I spent my whole life staring at this thing and wondering why? Why Cameron and not me? Why?” Warren’s eyes fixed on the urn. “I thought, if Cameron can’t have birthdays, then why should I? If Cameron can’t be alive, then why am I? No matter what it was, if Cameron couldn’t have it, then I didn’t deserve it. I tried to be invisible at school. I hid under my blanket at home. I deserved nothing because Cameron couldn't have anything. I watched you…” Warren pointed at Tanner, his knuckles white and shaking. “I watched you run around doing whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted to do it. Sitting in your hot tub like an Egyptian pharaoh, getting away with everything.” He lowered his hand and stepped back. “I watched you and your brother yell at each other, and joke with each other, and…the only time I—”
“Stop it Warren. Stop it.”
Warren backed away and put his head down. “The only time I ever had a reason to live was when I was with you and your brother.”
Tanner sobbed. He dropped the rope. “Nathan’s dead.”
“I know.” Warren met Tanner’s gaze. “And so is Cameron. So what?”
Tanner’s eyes glistened and his body tensed. He put his hand over his forehead and caressed his scar. “So what?”
“Yeah. So what? My mom is in a coma, my dad is getting drunk, and you’re trying to kill yourself.” Warren shook, and the fort shook with him. “Your parents have one missing son and one dead son. Brenda has lost both her brothers, and so what. I’m tired of looking away and running away from everything. It doesn’t work. Bad things happen, and bad things will always happen. So what. If you think killing yourself will change anything you're wrong because it won’t.” Warren stopped shaking. “Since it doesn't matter, you might as well not kill yourself.”
A tiny glint, almost too small to see, appeared in Tanner's eyes.
Warren said, “You might as well come back with me just to see what happens next. It might be the experience of a lifetime.” Warren stepped back and turned his palms up. “You only live once, right?”
Tanner stopped caressing his scar and dropped his shoulders. “What did Brenda do after we left?”
“The last time I saw her, she was standing on the deck, crying. She needs you.”
“And your mom?”
“She needs me.”
Tanner faced the forest.
Warren said, “Tanner. I need you. Are you going to leave me alone? You said you’d never leave me alone.”
Tanner held his arms out to his sides and raised his chin. A breeze pushed his hair off his face, and he closed his eyes. A mountain bluebird warbled and perched in a tree above the fort. The sun glinted off Tanner’s tears, and his cheeks began to dry. He spoke under his breath. “I take you, Life, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for…”
When Tanner opened his eyes, the crazy glint had returned—more wizard than monster. “I have an idea, man.”
“What’s that?”
“After I see my sister, and your mom is okay, let’s make a bong out of that thing and get high in the hot tub. Deal?”
Warren nodded. He sat down and motioned for Tanner to sit next to him. Warren took Tanner’s hand and shook the urn. The lid fell off, and—
POP
The floor of the fort tilted. The trees spun. Tanner fell into Warren. Warren fell into Tanner.
POP
“Whoa, man. It looks like lightning. What’s that smell?”
POP
Blue electricity swirled over the urn, and Warren wasn’t worried.
POP
A hand with long, white fingers reached without reaching. The fingers wrapped around the urn without wrapping and pulled the urn away…without pulling.
POP—POP, BANG
THE END
Thank you.
I am honored and grateful that you read A Split in Time. Thank you.
Throughout my life, I have spent countless hours asking myself, “What if things had been different?”
My mind has taken me down hundreds of impossible paths, all based on events that never happened. These paths always leave me standing back at the beginning—facing the realities of everyday life. I used to mourn the time lost to running over these paths, but I don’t do that anymore. Without spending that time, I would never have gotten to meet Warren and his friend, Tanner. Or you.
A life unexamined is not worth living. Neither is a life lived in solitude. If not for the thought I could share fictionalized fragments of my life with others, I would never have written this book. Again, thank you.
Our paths have crossed in A Split in Time, and I hope you have enjoyed the experience. If you believe others would enjoy this book, you can help them by leaving a review on one of the many websites for readers.
If you would like to receive my occasional newsletter with announcements such as the arrival of my next book, The Adelcrantz Nightmare, you can subscribe at:
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About the Author
Half way between humor and horror lies the reality of everyday life, and Vin Carver never stops halfway. Vin is an examiner of the extremes. From waking with a subtle smile on his face, to carrying the lifeless bodies of his loved ones to their final resting place, Vin has spent his life studying the pains of perception and pushing them into fantastical impossibilities. His writing reflects his extremes.
Vin Carver lives in the shadows north of Seattle, Washington, USA. When he’s not converting his memories into fiction, you can find him pushing his body to the extreme. He travels great distances, running beneath the ponderosa pines, cycling over the seaside hills, and swimming against the current.
Living with his beloved wife, resilient son, and brilliant daughter, Vin is grateful for the love they share in their suburban home each day…and tormented by the fear of losing them in his nightmares each night.
“It’s only in the extremes that we can be scared, that we can rise above, that we can feel fear, and experience love.”
vin@vincarver.com