by J D Spero
How could he ever forgive him for what he’d done?
For so long, he denied it. He didn’t believe it. Tyler couldn’t have possibly done such an awful thing. But then, the bracelet, Judge Bowman, Derek, the visit when Tyler sent him away, the trial. The days and weeks of Mom being gone. The waiting at Murphy’s for what seemed like a lifetime. Then, after Mom collected him and brought him home, he learned that they decided Tyler was guilty. He had confessed, which meant he admitted he did that awful thing. Which meant he did do that awful thing. Not Derek or anyone else. He did it. Tyler. His Tyler.
Then he got Tyler’s letter.
Dear Hen,
I don’t blame you for hating me. I kind of hate myself right about now. I’ve been a rotten brother. Sorry for sending you away when you came to visit at Thanksgiving. Sorry for yelling at you and throwing your bracelet across the room at Christmas. Sorry for not helping with your hedgehog trap.
I did a very bad thing. I was sick when it happened, kinda. They decided to send me to a special kind of hospital for a long time and they are fixing me up. I think about what happened all the time. I feel really really really bad about it. I cry about it at night. I know you are sad because of what I did. I cry about that too. I’m so sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry. I will keep saying it until you tell me it’s ok. That you don’t hate me anymore. I hope that time will be soon.
Love, Tyler
Hen could read now, and read it himself. He didn’t need Bernie’s help. Or anyone else’s. He read his brother’s words himself. And read them again. And again. And again. And then he folded it up and put it in his sock drawer because he didn’t want to read it anymore. He didn’t want his brother to say sorry anymore. He didn’t want to hear it. He knew the truth. He could never forgive him.
But Bernie could. And did.
Even though he put the letter away, he’d read it so many times, the words found him. They found him all the time. The last thought of the night as he stared at the ceiling of the bedroom they used to share. The first thing each morning, as his lids clung together with sleepies. He’d rub the crust from his lashes, trying to free the words from his mind. It was no use. It replayed in his little mind like a song on repeat.
How many times would Tyler say sorry? Did it matter? Sorry wouldn’t bring Miss Sally back. Sorry wouldn’t change the fact that he lost Mom to the trial for days and days—so many he lost count. Sorry wouldn’t get Tyler out of prison or rehab, or wherever he was, for years. Hen would be fourteen or fifteen before Tyler got out, maybe. A teenager himself. Eating microwave burritos and listening to music on huge headphones. What would Tyler be like then? All grown up. Would he still be his brother?
Would he be able to forgive him then?
He clicked his flashlight on and off, splashing the distant tree line with a burst of white. Hen’s face was wet, but no new tears fell. His nose was clogged, and his head felt sleepy. His play tent stood a few feet away. He was bone tired suddenly. Just a little rest. The den was probably empty anyway. It didn’t seem to matter anymore.
He slunk into his play tent and lay down. The cold ground beneath the thin canvas of the tent gave him a chill. Waking him alert. That wouldn’t do at all.
With new resolve, he marched out of his tent, did an about face and brandished his flashlight like a sword. The light grew into a big circle as he moved closer to the tree line, panning across like a spotlight against a stage, trying to find the hedgehog den. Little piles of leaves made a berm, like a barrier protecting his house from the darkness of the woods. A warm, safe feeling came over Hen.
His next thought wasn’t about Louis, the hedgehog that may or may not be resting in his new den. It was about Tyler. His brother. At seventeen, at twenty-seven, at thirty-seven…he would always be his brother. His next inhale went deep. He felt it in his fingertips and toes. When he breathed out, he let it all go. A big cloud of fog took his breath into the night air.
In the middle of his backyard, he turned off the flashlight. In the total darkness, he took another deep breath. He felt it go right to his heart. When he breathed out, some of the anger went too. He wiped his eyes dry.
When it’s dark it’s dark for everyone.
It was Tyler who taught him not to be scared of the dark.
He didn’t need his flashlight anymore. His eyes had adjusted, like night vision. He tiptoed in the direction of the den, hoping he’d find it. Of course, he did. Eagerness bubbled up, and all that careful breathing went away. He was too excited to breathe. He could feel it. Something special was about to happen.
A few feet from the den, Hen sank down onto his belly and army crawled the rest of the way. Nighttime ninja, sneaky and silent. Hen smelled the raw earth of autumn—damp soil, dead leaves, and moss. The den was like a little hobbit house, its opening a welcoming upside-down U. He dipped down to look inside. He couldn’t believe it. He grinned super big, remembering Bernie’s unshaven chin.
“Louis?”
Schizophrenia is a serious mental illness. Although there is no cure, with proper medication and treatment, it can be managed. If you or anyone you know exhibits symptoms, please contact the National Alliance on Mental Illness at 1-800-950-NAMI (6264) or go to mentalhelp.net.
When my middle son (Adam Henry) still talked like Elmer Fudd, he was obsessed with nocturnal animals. “Only noctuwnal animals, mommy.” He especially loved hedgehogs. We lived in Texas at the time, in a neighborhood that was neatly organized like a giant’s garden. Good-sized homes blocked in with good-sized fences, stacked against each other like puzzle pieces. One night before bed, my little guy begged to go out in the backyard to find a hedgehog. Seeing all the naive eagerness in his huge hazel eyes, we couldn’t say no.
Flashlight in hand, he headed out the back door in his bare feet and favorite green pajamas. As I watched him from my kitchen, I noticed my neighbors’ windows just beyond our fence. It being so dark outside, their windows were like movie screens. It struck me how clearly I could see inside their homes and how they must be able to see into mine. And there was my Adam with his flashlight, panning our backyard with an innocent hope to find himself a pet.
And the story idea hit…
Originally titled Henry Trout Saves a Hedgehog, then Paradox Lake, and finally Boy on Hold.
A bit about the setting. I grew up in Lake George, which is about 45 minutes from Paradox Lake. Oddly, I’d never visited Paradox until after the book was contracted. My writer friend, Linda Marshall, hosted me at her lake house there for a lovely lunch and an insightful tour. Recently, I learned my old neighbor, Brian Turner, grew up in Severance and attended Schroon Lake Central School. Having lived there in the nineties, he was happy to answer any random question I had while in the throes of revisions.
Paradox Lake is so named because it both is fed from and feeds into Schroon Lake, depending on water levels of the lakes and Schroon River. Paradox is just one of the many lakes in the Adirondack Region. The Adirondack park’s over six million acres hosts thousands of lakes and is the only national park that has over 100 towns, villages, and communities in addition to its protected nature reserves. In 1963 it was designated as a National Historic Landmark. I urge anyone who hasn’t visited the Adirondacks to do so.
I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my father, James R. Davies, Esq—or in some circles, “Jimbo.” An attorney who spent his career practicing law in upstate New York, his insight into the legal process was key. I did take some small liberties to help my story. Tyler’s arraignment occurs in a fictitious home office of the Town Justice (Bowman). This would usually occur in Town Court, however it is not uncommon in small towns for arraignments to occur in a judge’s home office. Also, Tyler would’ve been held prior to his trial in Essex County Jail, which is 40 minutes from Severance. To avoid introducing another set of police officers/guards to the story (no less driving time for Marcella), I put the county jail in Schroon Lake.
Mike Spero, my father-in-law and former narcotics officer, described how
young people typically get hooked on heavy drugs, which informed Tyler’s “euphoria.” My cousin in-law Doreen Burns made a comment at a family wedding about the pervasive link between mental illness and drug abuse—thus the character of Tyler was revised from a baseless criminal to a teen suffering from undiagnosed, terrifying psychosis. The bulk of my research for Tyler, though, was first-hand accounts of people suffering with schizophrenia and similar psychoses, as in Recovered, not cured, a journey through schizophrenia by Richard McLean.
I wrote a huge chunk of this book during the 2014 Sandy Feet Writer’s Retreat alongside my dear friends Aly Aiello, Michelle Curran, Betsy Devany, and Anika Denise.
I’d like to thank the following writers/editors who gave me feedback: Cassandra Dunn, Christy Morgan, Aly Aiello, William Belcher, and the team at Immortal Works—specifically Beth Buck, Melissa Meibos, Ashley Literski, Staci Olsen, Holli Anderson, and Jason King. It was a thrill when Beth liked my pitch on #pitmad…The rest, as they say, is history.
Thanks to my mom, Janet Davies, and brother, Dr. Jim Davies of Carleton University, for reading early drafts. Thanks to my mother-in-law Judith Basile for being such a supporter. Thanks to my boys—AJ, Adam, and Chaz—who can’t wait to read this book. Always, thank you to Anthony, who makes everything possible. Upon reading the first draft of this book, he told me, “This book will change your life.” It already has.
Playlist
Duran Duran, “Shadows on Your Side,” Seven and the Ragged Tiger, EMI, 1983
Eurythmics, Sweet Dreams (are Made of This), RCA Records, 1983
Guns & Roses, “Sweet Child o’ Mine”, Appetite for Destruction, Geffen Records, 1987
Loggins and Messina, “Danny’s Song”, Sittin’ In, Columbia, 1971
Nirvana, Nevermind, DGC Records, 1991
Pearl Jam, “Jeremy”, Ten, Epic Records, 1991
Public Enemy, It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back, Def Jam, Columbia, 1988
*warning: contains spoilers*
1.The story is told through multiple points of view and not in chronological order. How do these author choices affect how readers receive the story?
2.It’s been said that parents can’t be blamed for their children’s bad deeds. At the same time, they can’t take credit for their children’s good deeds. Do you agree or disagree? Does Marcella deserve any credit or blame?
3.It’s clear that Marcella loves her sons. At one point, she claims that she learned long ago that her love wasn’t enough. What did she mean? Do you agree or disagree?
4.Who holds more power in town—Sally Hubbard or Leon Hogg?
5.How does Marcella deal with the sexual harassment and abuse she’s suffered?
6.Is Derek a villain?
7.What are Officer Clapp’s redeeming qualities? How about Leon?
8.Bernie is kind and unassuming. What faults does he have, if any?
9.Tyler silently suffers every day with an undiagnosed, terrifying psychosis. Why doesn’t he seek help?
10.Does Marcella do the right thing by inviting Tripp back into her home?
11.How are Tripp and Tyler different?
12.Hen searches for the meaning of truth and eventually believes he’s found it. Do you agree with his definition?
13.Hen believes he can save Tyler by making a duplicate bracelet. Does he?
14.The original title of this book was Henry Trout Saves a Hedgehog. Who is the hedgehog?
15.If you were Bernie or Hen, would you be able to forgive Tyler?
Johannah Davies (JD) Spero’s writing career took off when her first release, Catcher’s Keeper, was a finalist in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award in 2013. Since then, she’s found similar success with her young adult fantasy Forte series, winning recognition from National Indie Excellence Award (2014, 2016), Adirondack Literary Award (2015), and Book Excellence Award (2016). Having lived in various cities from St. Petersburg (Russia) to Boston, she’s now settled with her husband and three sons in the Adirondack Mountains, where she was born and raised.