Wesley

by Leanne Davis

  I could see how a kid could thrive in such a setting. No flinching when a bully, bigger than you, got angry or annoyed. I was used to flinching, having been cuffed in the head once too often. I’ve been slapped by annoyed women and pissed-off older teens. I never felt safe, and I couldn’t relax since no one seemed to act the same way from one day to the next. That’s partly why I love feeling free and wandering the world by myself. I can relax. As a child, I lived in a constant state of anxiety and loneliness, while all of my wants and needs went unmet. It was a source of unbearable sadness for me. Once I started traveling, however, the anxiety eventually disappeared. I no longer suffered the stabbing disappointments of having others fail me. Sure, I still might have to bear the loneliness, but I no longer have all those other negatives festering and swirling in my gut.

  Most moments, when I was with others, I prayed I wouldn’t be insulted, or get hit, or be neglected, and that stress made me anxious. I never knew what the day’s abuse might entail. It left me in a constant state of worry and a burning need to escape.

  I have to admit I don’t feel quite that burning need to escape the Kincaids. Not as I did with just about every other person or group I’ve ever encountered.

  I eye Ryder’s uniform. By now, I’ve gotten used to his police presence, and I don’t get freaked out by it anymore. There is something that makes him scarier and more official when he has the big black gun strapped to his side. Ryder just kind of wears it without really seeing it as a weapon. He doesn’t use it to gain control over those around him. It’s just a part of him, although he takes no glory in it either. It’s like a badge on his coat, just another symbol representing his identity.

  That’s how he seems to me at least. And yeah, some of my original caution about him has gone away.

  “What exactly makes you all about the fish and wildlife while you still carry a gun like every other branch of law enforcement?”

  His eyebrows pop up at my question. I’ve been wondering about it for weeks and never asked. I rarely ask questions. However, I have a small level of faith in Ryder that lets me feel free to ask him. “The law says I can.” He grins with a simple non-answer.

  I roll my eyes. “Seriously. Don’t you just—I mean, I don’t know—check people’s fishing and hunting licenses?”

  Tara lets out a weird sound from the couch. It’s a cross between a stifled laugh and a snort. She holds her hand to her mouth, trying to muffle a smirk. Ryder’s face squishes up and he taps a finger on the counter. Oops. Not the right thing to say.

  “You shouldn’t have asked,” Wyatt mutters at me as he pushes past me before dumping his cereal bowl and cup into the sink. Is he giving me a good-natured warning?

  “No. I mean, yes, we check licenses, but we also do much more. Did you know my authority in this state is greater than any other law enforcement branch? So, snicker on that, Tara Kincaid.” He’s looking me in the eye, but his remark makes Tara completely lose it. She bursts out laughing and covers her face with a pillow.

  Ryder scowls at her but continues talking to me as if she weren’t convulsing in the living room with unbridled mirth. Obviously, I seriously underestimated Ryder’s job and jurisdiction, something which he takes very seriously. “Officially, we respond to public safety issues with dangerous wildlife encounters, natural disasters, and general law enforcement. I’m often called to assist with local city, county and other state law enforcement agencies, tribal authorities and federal agencies.”

  “Again, what does that mean? It’s just words, Ryder. I don’t get what you do.”

  “Well, let’s see… for example… last week, there was a bear that wandered into a neighborhood down in the Camas area. One of my colleagues called me to come out and assist her. We tranquilized the animal, moved it into a cage and took it way up onto a remote state land refuge to free it once the tranquilizer wore off.”

  “Wait. You tranquilized a bear?” He has my attention now. I had no idea.

  “Yeah. That was last week.”

  “What else?”

  “Depends on the area of the state. Poaching is a huge problem. Anything from deer to geoducks.”

  “What?”

  “You know, geoducks.”

  “Are you making that up?”

  Wyatt slaps his dad on the back with an affectionate thump as he passes him and heads for the table where his cell phone sits. “Oh, if only he were. Enjoy your lecture,” he says to me as he grins with a mock-salute to his dad. Ryder scowls, and Tara laughs harder. But I can understand the affection Wyatt has for his dad’s obvious passion regarding his job. I’m thinking Wyatt’s heard a lot of it before. I also never saw Wyatt kid around with me, or include me in his interactions with his parents, unless it was to accuse me of being a thief. It feels okay. It feels pretty nice, actually, to be part of it.

  Ryder turns back to me. “Geoducks live in Puget Sound. They are large saltwater clams, and they cost a lot per pound. Illegal divers are always out poaching them, and they can make a thousand bucks a day.”

  “I would have thought you were shitting me if you ever asked me to collect geoducks.”

  “Nope. But obviously, I don’t deal with those. My point being an example of what a WDFW officer might encounter—”

  “WDFW?”

  Wyatt rubs his hands together. “Oh, he loves the questions. Tell him, Dad. Use your fancy lingo.” Wyatt’s smiling towards me. Is he sharing a joke with me? I’m hesitant to react. I’ve never known Wyatt to be so amiable toward me. Teasing his dad seems to draw it out of him.

  Ryder scowls at Wyatt but says to me, “Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife. It’s such a mouthful. Anyway, after wildlife encounters, poaching takes up a huge amount of our time. Anything from hunters shooting big game like deer or elk without the proper license or correct tags for them, to hunters killing more than their legal limit on ducks or geese, all for their personal entertainment, to people harvesting animals out of season or exceeding the legal limits on geoducks and selling other endangered shellfish on the black market.”

  “I had no idea there was such a thing. So, you protect natural resources, and how those resources will be maintained depends on which area you work in.”

  Ryder beams at my swift assessment. “Exactly! So, while I am focused on certain Columbia River fisheries and the surrounding wildlife, the Columbia River still comprises a huge component of my work. Meanwhile an officer working the waterfront of Seattle will have entirely different tasks and threats to deal with.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “Here. This might help clarify it—”

  At his words, Ryder steps towards me with his phone while Tara and Wyatt groan in tandem, saying, “Not the video!”

  “You can both leave, if you don’t want to see it.” Ryder’s tone is crisp. He sounds annoyed.

  Wyatt picks up on it and slaps his dad’s shoulder. “Lighten up, old man. Okay, okay, I’ll leave you to your bragging rights.”

  Ryder’s scowl lingers after him, but he turns back to me. He hands me his phone with a video link already loaded on it. It’s a six-minute video with music, shots, overlay, and actually a pretty riveting, professional production. But more surprising to me, it’s nothing that I pictured Ryder doing.

  I’m watching the link as I say, “This is different than what general peace officers do.”

  “Yes. Exactly. It’s preserving wildlife, fish, natural resources and yeah, policing the public grounds and arresting those who violate the laws.”

  “Is your day really like that?” I point at the YouTube video.

  Tara gets up to walk past us and grabs the coffee pot to pour some into her cup. “Most days, no. But there is a danger in it. I might tease him, but he deals with all kinds of people, including hunters and fisherman who usually carry firearms or at a minimum, have knives. Every time he boards a boat to check their licenses or add up their limits, I think about all those long, sharp, filet knives sitting around. So, I have to admit, every
day I’m relieved when he comes back home. Safe again.”

  Ryder gives her a pointed look. “Well, after all the snickers, yeah, I do like my job. I might be interested in sharing it. And most days, no, it’s not about life or death.”

  “But in a way, it kind of is, right? Assuming the laws successfully balance the optimal kill ratios for both conservation and consumption, which you help maintain, right? Of course, corruption exists in any and all government bureaucracies, at least, all of those that I’ve ever seen, but I think you represent an interesting branch of law enforcement.”

  He gives me the barest flash of teeth. “Meaning, you don’t automatically hate me for it.”

  “Meaning, I did, yes. But I don’t now.”

  He sets his coffee cup in the sink behind him. “You should ride along with me sometime. See what it’s all about.”

  Still in the process of pouring out cereal from a box into a bowl, his words make my hand jerk, and the cereal spills away from the bowl and all over the table. I glance up, embarrassed, before setting the box down. No one has ever expressed any interest in teaching me or showing me something so private. Teaching me something about their profession. Showing me… their life’s work or special interests. I shrug, keeping my gaze neutral.

  “You can just do that?”

  “Yes. Do you want to? I’d love to show you. Though maybe it won’t be quite as cool as the video.”

  It’s hard not to smile. Ryder doesn’t hide his eagerness. Crap, he wants to show me. He’s rubbing his hands together in anticipation that I’ll come. He wants me? I can barely process that. “Yeah. Sure. I’m always up for learning new things. Might help me avoid detection in the future anyway,” I add. I feel the warming of my face. Fuck. I’m blushing. Luckily, it won’t show if I keep my face averted. I don’t want them to see my reaction. It’s just so confusing to have so much attention coming my way.

  Okay, fuck, they are all parental-like. And unlike anyone I’ve ever known. It’s hard to know how to react under their scrutiny. They are always polite and kind, but they have invested their full interest, in me. The people here seem to like me, too, and they get me, from Dani and Chloe to the employees at the café and everyone else here. All except for Wyatt. I brush that off. What do I care about Wyatt?

  Wyatt, however, whips his head up at his dad’s offer. For that reason, our gazes meet, and I smirk as I say, looking directly at him. “Yeah, I’d like to.”

  Ryder straightens up. “Well, damn, yeah, let’s go!”

  He steps out of the room, and Wyatt stomps out after him. I wonder if he’ll say something to try and change Ryder’s mind. Tara grabs her bag and keys as she sets a hand on my lower arm and gives me a quick, affectionate squeeze. “I think that’s excellent. Enjoy yourself, Wesley.”

  “Sure.” There is a distinct ease between us that I share with no one else in the household. Tara’s so likable and easy to deal with. I can tell she likes me, and I don’t think I’ve ever been on the receiving end of this much affection.

  So, there I am, sitting in Ryder’s beige work truck with law enforcement emblems on the doors. He checks in before we start his patrol. He has regular places he frequents, and some are remote parks and boat launches or hiking trailheads. He scours them, checking for any trouble. He has lots of conversations with people, and he starts each one with a warm, friendly, open smile and hello. He turns cool when one lip-jacks him and tells him to mind his own business. But since they aren’t doing anything illegal by sitting in their car and staring out at the small lake beyond, he lets their rudeness go unchecked.

  He shows me where they keep the boats they use to police the waterways. He explains what he looks for when he’s patrolling on the watercrafts, anything from boating violations to poaching in the Columbia River fishery.

  “I’ve never been.”

  “Fishing? I’d love to take you some time when my jet boat gets fixed.”

  “That too. But I’ve never even been on a boat.”

  Ryder shakes his head. “That’s how Tara was, too. First chance we can, we will. You can’t hit the road before you let me take you on a boat ride. Okay? Consider it one of those adventures you cherish so much.”

  He’s sincere. It seems impossible to him that I have never been on a boat. I nod, a smile pressing my lips flat. “All right. A boat ride before I leave.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.” I fidget around because it feels peculiar. Plans. I don’t usually make plans with anyone. But to promise them I’ll do something? Even less chance of happening.

  We keep patrolling. There’s a call about a coyote roaming the neighborhood, and Ryder ignores it because he considers it too silly to respond. He pulls over a blatant speeder before doing more patrolling.

  “Okay, so not exactly what the video shows, not all the time anyway. But it can be.”

  “What do you have to do to land a job like this?”

  “You have to be over twenty-one, a U.S. citizen, no felonies, two years of college credits, and a few more things. Why? You have any interest?”

  “In a permanent career? Have you met me? I don’t plan to get any kind of career. Ever. I don’t plan to have a thirty-year mortgage, or monthly car payments, or to tie my life down with debt because I have to. So, no.”

  “Well, you could work in a lot of different areas. Your patrol could be anywhere you choose, and it might be something challenging. It could also give you the variety you seek.”

  “As a cop?”

  “A branch of law enforcement, yes. But I happen to think it’s the next level—”

  “Where the pavement ends, my career begins? I read the promo stuff.”

  He shrugs. “Well, hell, I sound like a walking one, huh?”

  “You just really love it, don’t you?”

  “I do. I really do. It’s hard not to want to share it. Wyatt isn’t interested, which I get. You haven’t had any exposure to it, so I just thought I’d tell you about it.”

  My guts feel weird. He wants to share his career with me? It’s kind of flattering to realize, I’ll admit. “Besides I don’t even have a high school diploma.”

  Ryder shrugs. “Hell, as intelligent as you are, it’d take a couple of preparatory classes for you to pass the high school equivalency test.”

  “How do you know I’m intelligent?”

  “I talked to you once. That’s about all it takes.”

  Fine. Damn it. Warmth spreads through me. In my gut, my heart, and throughout my entire blood stream. I like the praise. I like knowing Ryder thinks so highly of me. Or hell, that he even notices me. I like hearing that getting my high school equivalency would be no big stretch of the imagination from him. I want to make that happen. But to think I could ever have all the qualities and skills I need to even apply for his job? Yeah, right! Even if I reluctantly admit that I like what Ryder does. So? No one in my life ever explained anything to me about their job so this is a trifle heady for me. But also, unreal. Nothing I’ll ever really pursue. I went on a ride-along and we bonded. So what? It was bound to happen at some point in my life, so why not now? Ryder was a decent enough guy. So, why not him?

  I get to work attacking the dishes and scrubbing the bathroom in between table clearing. Dani comes in halfway through my shift. It’s hard for me to keep cool. Something I used to be a pro at. Now I’m staring too often at her. Our gazes meet and we both smile, looking away, and that tension fills the air, something we have been sharing since that swim. For the passing weeks since then, there has been a distinct shift in how we interact. She’s sorry for me, duh, I get that. Most people are when they see a child’s burnt scars. But I remember the look we shared with Wyatt between us. I don’t know if it means anything, but it feels like it.

  I don’t get it or why I can’t will myself to just stop feeling strange around her. No one ever had a lasting place in my life, so I’ve always managed to easily shut off my feelings for people. I walk away. I lick my wounds for whatever happ
ened and try to forget it. But I always move on. I move past it.

  I want to do so with these disturbing feelings I have for Dani.

  But damn it if my heart isn’t bumping harder, and I feel such a strong desire to touch her. Her hair. Her face. Her arm. Not exactly the usual places I long to touch on a girl. But it’s all these… almost reverent feelings that I just don’t know what to do with.

  I’m disturbed out of my Dani thoughts just then when I look across the café and see Mrs. Carson entering. Crap! I never considered she’d come into the café for lunch. But duh! Why not?

  I tuck my head down and quickly dodge past Dani, surprising her as I throw the container of used dishes on the counter and hurry to find Tara in her office. “Mrs. Carson is here.”

  She stands up. Her face is calm, even serene. She nods. “That makes sense. I’m surprised she hasn’t come in before now. Come on.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Introducing you as Wyatt’s friend from college.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “So she assumes that’s where she knows you from. We’re replacing her money ten-fold, right? We’re making restitution. But you getting identified right now won’t help matters. So, come on. Trust me.”

  “You know the right thing to do would be just to apologize to her and admit what I did.”

  “She’ll scream, get scared, and call the police. You live with the best peace officer I know. I honestly believe she and Silver Springs are more protected by our solution than by the ‘right’ thing according to the law.” She puts air quotes around the word right. I smile. She has a way of talking so it makes my actions seem not so bad. Even if they are. And she’s a little bit quirky, the most peculiar spouse of a cop I’ve ever met. Not that I’ve met many, she’s just not what I ever pictured one to be like.

  I follow her. Tara’s pretty good at making everything casual. She introduces me to a few of her regulars, Mrs. Carson being one of them. Mrs. Carson smiles up at me, her eyes clear and innocent. She doesn’t seem to associate my appearance here in town as Wyatt’s college friend with the charity money theft.