The Wild

by K. Webster

  “Pinky promise,” we both say.

  Her eyes are filled with love and happiness. I knew this move would be life changing. We’ll eventually pull Sabrina out of the dark hell she lives in. With time, everything will be perfect.

  She releases my hand and continues walking along the edge of the thick forest that overhangs into the road. I’ve already had to stop more times than I can count to either move limbs or hack through them with the chainsaw. Atticus promised the last few hours of the journey were the hardest. He hasn’t been to the property since before winter when I purchased the land from him. Winters here are harsh and unforgiving. The trees are casualties.

  Buddy growls and the hairs on my neck stand on end. Heavy crunching resounds about a hundred feet into the thicket on our right.

  “Dad…”

  “Stay calm.”

  Despite all our researching and classes, we’re still city folks. It’s all fun and games until someone sees a bear for the first time.

  We wait for what feels like ages. Buddy gets bored and shits. Nothing terrifying emerges from the woods. The sun is setting fast and I fear our little exploration is over for the day.

  “Come on, Dev. Let’s get inside and see about dinner.”

  She trots back over to me, sidestepping Buddy’s bomb, and I hug her to my side. After Drew died and I picked myself up off the floor, I vowed to give the love I had for two children to the one we had left. I took her to the movies and shopping. Every day I took her to school and picked her up. Any opportunity when I wasn’t traveling or working, I spent with my daughter.

  Sabrina sure as hell wasn’t doing the job.

  “How about Frito chili pie?” Devon asks. “It’s Mom’s favorite.”

  I squeeze her. “You cooking?”

  She looks up at me and grins. “I’m the only one who knows the recipe.”

  At this, I snort laughing. “Step one, open a can of chili. Step two, heat said chili. Step three, pour over Fritos. Step four, sprinkle the cheese and onions on top. Did I miss anything?”

  “You’re such a sarcastic shit, Dad.”

  She flings the RV door open and rolls her eyes at me before clomping up the steps.

  “Don’t say shit, Pip.”

  I close the RV door and lock it out of habit even though nobody will get us out here. By the time I kick off my boots and pull off my jacket, Devon is hard at work on her specialty. The way she effortlessly moves about the small space softly singing one of her favorite pop tunes reminds me of the way Sabrina used to be.

  So. Full. Of. Life.

  “I’m going to go check on your mom,” I tell her as I pass her in the kitchen. I drop a kiss on the top of her head before scooting past her. Once inside the back bedroom, I close the partition door. It’s dark inside. Sabrina sleeps naked. An invitation. Sometimes when she’s in a dark mood, the only way to bring her back is through sex. The RV is small and the walls are practically non-existent but Devon will be distracted cooking dinner.

  I peel off my clothes and crawl into the small bed beside my wife. She’s awake but doesn’t speak. I’ve been through this song and dance enough times to know all the motions. Each time I pray she’ll snap out of it long enough to love me the way she used to. But every time I’m disappointed. Doesn’t stop me from trying.

  My mouth finds her throat and I kiss her soft flesh. Her breasts are still firm despite her now being well into her late thirties. I fondle them even though she won’t respond. When I start kissing down her throat on a mission to her pussy, she shakes her head in the dark and says one simple word.

  No.

  I groan in frustration and begin our usual routine. Parting her thighs, I settle on top of her. My dick is having trouble staying hard so I stroke it quickly before pushing into her heat. A sharp gasp is the only evidence I’m fucking a woman and not a corpse.

  My mouth tries for hers but she turns her head to the side. It’s as though she punishes herself from all forms of pleasure and happiness. If Drew couldn’t have it, then why should she. It kills me that she thinks this way.

  I desperately try to be quiet, but our bodies slap together. The grunts coming from me are feral and borderline angry. Sometimes I want to grab her by the throat and shake some goddamned sense into her.

  Sabrina never comes.

  Never.

  She lets me use her as an outlet so I can come. So she can tie us together—no matter how loose it is—in the only way she knows how. It’s always been enough. Just barely.

  “I love you,” I whisper, my breath hissing from me.

  She doesn’t respond.

  My eyes clench shut and I come hard. I’ve barely finished spurting out my release before I’m yanking out of her. I snag my shirt and wipe my dick off before tossing it into the corner. Neither of us speak. I just came and I should be relaxed but I’m pissed off. This trip was supposed to help. If anything, she seems worse on the first night on our land.

  “Dinner will be ready soon. Devon cooked your favorite,” I spit out as I yank my jeans on.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  It takes everything in me not to go off on her.

  “Night,” I bite out.

  She doesn’t respond.

  When I yank open the divider, Devon wears a guilty look as she stares down at her bowl of Frito chili pie. She’s set out two more bowls and even made her mother a glass of lemonade. Bitterness threatens to tear me in half but I swallow it down.

  “Smells good, Pip,” I say, my tone gruff.

  Her watery eyes lift to meet mine. It fucking breaks my heart. No sixteen-year-old girl should have to deal with this shit. She glances at my bare chest and then looks down at her food.

  “I’m sorry you had to hear that.” The sex. The rejection. The slow death of my marriage.

  “It’s fine, Dad.”

  I settle in across from her and eat dinner alone with my daughter. Just like every other goddamned day.

  And I eat Sabrina’s untouched bowl just to make Devon smile again.

  * * *

  * * *

  I try my cell phone, but I have no signal. I lost the signal days ago. We’re really doing this. Living off the grid. I’m going to find me a hillbilly toothless wild man deep in the woods and have all his babies.

  When I chuckle, Dad’s eyes meet mine in the mirror. His kind brown eyes always bring me comfort.

  “What’s so funny back there?”

  “Just imagining finding a hillbilly boyfriend. We’re going to have lots of babies,” I explain.

  “No. Boys. Ever.”

  Buddy barks again. Stupid dog seems to agree with Dad on that one every time.

  “Guess I’ll have to wait until college to get my freak on,” I say with a sigh and feign boredom. Truth is, I wouldn’t know what to do with a boy if I had one. Having gone to an all-girl school my entire life, the only interaction with guys were the ones from the neighborhood. I’ve not been kissed, and I certainly haven’t done anything more.

  Dad growls and Mom laughs. She’s more herself today. A few smiles here and there. She even sang with me through a couple of oldies on the CD I’d burned back home. I’d never seen Dad look so happy. One of these days I’m going to help Mom to remember that we’re her family. That we need her. She’ll laugh and smile and love us like we love her.

  And Dad can be happy again.

  Truly happy.

  Reed Jamison puts on a strong face, but I’ve seen him at his lowest. Bawling his eyes out like a child. It crushed my heart. When Drew died, I cried. But when my father cried, I think I lost a part of my soul that day.

  Mom has always been sad. Detached. Lost. Drew and I always felt as if we were a burden to her. And when he died, she went completely off the deep end with no hope of ever coming back. Dad seems hopeful and for him, I hope too.

  I promised myself that I’d always be his sidekick. His best friend. His little girl. I would do well in school, behave always, and never argue about chores. Dad did so muc
h for our family. It was the least I could offer for him.

  “Don’t eat the white berries,” I remind everyone in the car for the millionth time. Buddy agrees and barks.

  Dad winks in the mirror. “We’ll save them for your hillbilly boyfriend.”

  I’m happily reading one of my romance novels when the RV starts to slow.

  “Oh, shit. This one’s big,” he complains as he rolls to a stop in front of a massive fallen tree.

  “I’m glad we’re stopping,” Mom says in the detached voice I know so well. “I have a headache coming on.”

  Heat creeps up my throat as I remembered last night. They had sex. It didn’t sound very fun. Dad seemed angry. Mom didn’t make a peep. All I could hear was their heavy breathing, the slapping of flesh, and his grunts. The entire RV shook and rattled. I was so embarrassed. Sure, I’ve seen sex in movies and read about it in my books, but that was the first time I’ve ever heard it. Experienced it in live action.

  When I lift my eyes, Dad’s are on mine. Once again apologetic. I want to tell him it’s not his fault she’s the way she is but he won’t believe me. He’s exactly like me. Confident we can somehow fix her one day.

  “Come on, Pip. I need an extra pair of hands, and your mother has a headache,” he seethes, his jaw clenching as he turns to regard her.

  She’s unfazed and simply shrugs.

  With a strangled curse word, he slings the door open and steps out. The door slams behind him scaring the crap out of me.

  “Go help your father before he has a coronary,” she says in a bored tone.

  “It’s hot,” I whine as I swipe sweat from my brow.

  Dad is hot too because he’s long since yanked off his shirt. He’s pissed and has been taking it out on the tree for the past three hours. I’ve escaped only long enough to fetch us water.

  “Go inside with your mother,” he barks out before kicking the tree.

  I flinch at his outburst. “Dad…”

  He jerks his fiery gaze my way. My dad is usually all smiles and full of love. His anger toward my mom though has cast a permanent scowl on his face today. I want to make it go away.

  Running over to him, I throw my arms around his waist. He’s stiff at first but then seems to melt at my affection. Soon, his fingers run through my ponytail in an absent way. His lips press to the top of my head—a sign that everything is going to be okay.

  I believe him.

  He’s sweaty and smells a little rank from all the hard work in the late May afternoon sun, but I inhale him and memorize his scent. Not many things comfort me, but my Dad is one of them. His heartbeat is loud with my ear pressed against his chest. I love to listen to the strong cadence of it. When I was younger, I used to make up songs that went with the beat.

  “Everything’s going to be okay,” I vow and squeeze him tighter.

  He lets out a heavy sigh. “Promise, Pip?”

  “Pinky promise.”

  Mom has slept all day in the back. Normally, it hurts my feelings, but today feels different. Today we find our new home. Dad and I are on an adventure.

  I steal a glance his way. His aviator sunglasses sit perched on his nose and his shoulders are relaxed. A half smile plays at his lips. He’s excited just like me. The scruff is beginning to grow on his jaw. It gives him a rugged appearance. Before we left San Francisco, he playfully teased he would grow out a beard. I can’t help but grin imagining my dad’s normally clean shaven face full of wiry hair like Mr. Bobbitt, my old chemistry teacher.

  “What are you smiling about?” he asks, turning his attention briefly from the road to glance over at me.

  I shrug and kick my bare feet up on the dash. “Just thinking about getting to our new home. I’m looking forward to it.”

  He reaches over and takes my hand. I get a quick squeeze of assurance before he releases me. The road seems to end and Dad drives slower than usual. When we emerge from the trees, we come upon a small clearing on the top of what feels like a mountain.

  The road simply ends.

  “Dad!” I screech and point through the windshield. “We made it!”

  He’s just as eager as I am. Both of us bolting out of our doors as soon as the RV is parked. Dad reaches the edge of the cliff first. I approach slowly behind him. The edge drops off at least two hundred feet straight down into a gorge. A rushing river winds through the trees down below.

  “It’s beautiful,” I gasp, my hand clutching my chest. “The pictures didn’t do it justice.”

  He pulls me to him and we hug. “We’re here, Pip. Finally.” Hope tinges his words. Hope that we’ll all go back to normal. After all this time, we’ll be a family again.

  I get a kiss on the top of my head before he releases me. Walking over to the edge, I point down. “How do we get down there? I want to go down there.”

  “I’m not sure, but we’ll devote the morning looking,” he promises. I don’t need his pinky to know he’ll be good on his word. “I’m going to move the RV parallel to that area.” He points along the edge. “That way, we can block the northerly wind if we want to have a fire tonight. What do you say, Dev? S’mores? Might be the last time you ever have them until we visit your grandparents.”

  My stomach groans with hunger. “Yes!”

  I help direct Dad while he moves the RV where he wants it. It takes some maneuvering, and at one point he curses up a storm when he gets one of the wheels stuck, but we eventually get it the way it needs to be.

  While Dad messes about outside, I run inside to break the news to Mom. I find her staring out the side window in their room that overlooks the gorge below. No smiles. No excitement. No anything.

  “Mom…”

  She shoos me on. “Devon, my head is killing me. Go help your father.”

  Tears of rejection fill my eyes and I nod. I obey and go help my father.

  We cook hot dogs on the open fire and then indulge in s’mores. Mom stays in the bedroom.

  “It’s cold.” I tuck my hands into the big pocket of my hoodie. “It’s practically summer. Why is it cold?”

  Dad chuckles and takes a long pull on his beer. “Earlier you were complaining it was too hot. Which is it, Pip?”

  I stick my tongue out at him but hold my feet out toward the fire.

  “Come here.” He pats his lap like he used to do when I was a kid.

  With a silly grin on my face, I leap at the chance to sit on my dad’s lap. He’s warm and cozy. Strong and protective. He wraps me up in a hug and I rest my ear to his chest. The familiar cadence of his heart thrums in my ear, drowning out the forest sounds. He pets my hair and then kisses the top of my head.

  I must fall asleep because I wake as he carries me inside. The fire has long since dwindled. He sets me down on the sofa bed and then covers me up with my favorite quilt. His fingers stroke along my cheek before he gets up and darkens the RV. Despite being sleepy, I feel my ears perk up at every sound.

  The sliding of the partition as he shuts it.

  The jangle of Dad’s belt.

  Murmured voices.

  And then the grunts.

  Heat burns through me as the RV rocks another night in a row. Mom seems to participate because she lets out a moan. I’m embarrassed when heat begins to pool in my lower belly. I kick off my quilt and shimmy out of my jeans.

  Grunt. Grunt. Grunt.

  More murmured voices. The words belong to Dad. He sounds angry.

  A slap.

  And then the RV really starts shaking.

  More slaps as she calls him every name in the book.

  He bellows something unintelligible to her.

  Then I hear what sounds like smacking sounds.

  They’re kissing.

  A flare of jealousy flits through me and I’m immediately horrified by it. It just upsets me that she ignores us all day and then gets his undivided attention and affection. She doesn’t deserve it after the way she treats him.

  Another loud groan.

  Shame ripples through m
e the moment I slip my fingers down between my thighs. I’ve touched myself before, but I’m not very good at it. All I know is it feels good when I touch a certain spot. Greedily, I rub at that spot. I’m craving the relief it will give me. Relief I’ve found before on occasion. It’s always been difficult to get there and sometimes it never happens.

  My ears ring and drown out their sounds as I furiously rub at myself. I’m no longer staring toward their partition door but am instead giving in to the electric sensations burning through me. I’m hot and sweaty. Quickly, I tear off my hoodie and then get right back to rubbing myself. I let out a choked sound the moment pleasure steals me from this reality. A loud sigh escapes me and I blink my eyes back open.

  Light.

  It shines from the bathroom out into the hallway.

  Dad stands there in just his jeans glaring at me. When our eyes meet, he shakes his head in disproval before storming into the tiny bathroom. He slams the door shut.

  Tears prickle my eyes. Shame courses through me tainting my recent orgasm. How am I going to explain that to him? He looked so pissed. I start to cry and quickly drag the quilt up my body even though I’m sweating. When Dad finally emerges, I pretend to sleep. I can feel him watching me in the darkness for a few moments before he retreats to their room.

  I’m sorry, Dad.

  I wake with a start.

  I heard something.

  Fear clutches my heart and I slip out of my bed hurrying to my parents’ bedroom. Dad snores softly and Mom seems to be asleep too. Like I did when I was a little girl, I climb in between them. I slide my arm around Mom’s middle and bury my face in her hair. She pats my arm absently in her sleep. The small moment of affection sets my heart on fire. I’m just relaxing when Dad rolls over and hugs me from behind. I retreat from my mother and seek his safety. Dad is strong and solid behind me. His arm curls around me and his lips find my hair. It grounds me.

  Nothing will get me with him having my back.

  He’s still breathing heavily in a deep sleep, and it drowns out what I now realize is thunder. The RV shakes from the wind. Soon the rain starts to pound. A chill ripples through me. I start wiggling to get under the covers with them. Eventually, I manage to slide beneath their quilt. Dad’s warm chest pressed against my back through my T-shirt heats my chilled body.