The Color of My Native Sky

by L D Bloodworth

“I met Rix and Wendy in Phoenix. We found Arlene in Albuquerque. She was sixteen and stripping at a massage parlor.”

  It broke Edie’s heart to hear the horror stories of their hunger, times when they were sick and couldn’t get care, times when people beat the hell out of them for no reason.

  “I figured if I had family, they would’ve looked for me. No one did. So the girls and I became a family. We took care of each other. And now, here we are. It’s the first time we’ve had a real home.”

  “I guess you think I’m a real brat for running out on my family, then, huh?”

  “I get where you’re coming from, but don’t let it come between you and them. Somebody loves you. You don’t just give up on that.”

  “I’ll try to go talk to mom tomorrow.”

  “That a girl.”

  She made a phone call to Charlotte to see if she’d heard from Billy. She said that she had filed a missing persons report because he still hadn’t shown up for work. He might have refused to speak to her, but Billy never missed work.

  “They’re going to ping his phone. Hopefully, that will tell us pretty close to where he was the last time it was on.”

  “He’ll turn up. He’s just upset.”

  “I can’t believe you knew about this and didn’t tell me. All those years, you two lied.”

  “It wasn’t for me to tell anyone, Charlotte.”

  She wanted to tell her that her reaction is precisely why her son was missing and that she’d behaved just as he feared she would. Instead, she restrained herself for her own peace of mind.

  Thinking of the argument with her parents made her wonder if Charlotte knew more than she was willing to admit. Maybe she and Billy had a fight. He had revealed things about himself, opened himself up to her judgment and her possible rejection of him and she had responded by threatening him.

  She couldn’t help but worry if, after all these years, Billy Charlie had succumbed to the emotions, the fear, the burden that came with his sexuality. Had he finally run away? Or had he taken more drastic measures?

  It frightened her to see the scars on Skylar’s wrists. It worried her.

  What if he got that low again and couldn’t bring himself back from the brink?

  They woke the next morning to the sound of someone tapping on the door. At least, that’s what they thought. It was the sound of a city official posting some sort of paper onto the door. When Skylar asked him what he wanted, the man refused to speak to him and gestured to the notice by hand.

  Skylar took the paper down and his countenance fell as he read. “It’s a notice of legal action. It means that if we don’t come up with the money for back taxes, they will confiscate the house.”

  A dark shadow now hung over him.

  “I’m sure we can figure something out. We can raise the money if we pull together.”

  “It’s twenty thousand dollars, Edie. There’s no way.”

  He ran his hand through his hair and crumpled the piece of paper into a ball that he then hurled through the foyer. “I can’t fucking believe this!”

  “Why don’t we get out for a while? I don’t think we’ve been outside in days.” Skylar stared through her, his face clouded by the lurking darkness. “We could drive down to the lake. Or take a walk. There’s an old bike trail that goes down to the water tower.”

  “Let’s walk.”

  Skylar moved sluggishly along the beaten down bike path where the passage of untold children had beat the grass and the dirt into submission until it was no longer recognizable as earth. The dirt path had a flat, smooth surface that more closely resembled stone.

  “It’s gonna be okay, Skylar.”

  “So you say. So everybody says.”

  The lake shore smelled of rot. Fish carcasses discarded by drunken fishermen littered the water’s edge. They passed by a new pickup truck that had been parked near a side path that led down to the water. A cooler, some fishing tackle, and a folding chair were thrown haphazardly into the bed. Skylar reached into the cooler and took out a beer, guzzling it in a few seconds. He took out another and then stuffed two more into his pockets. Rummaging around the cab, he found a pint of whiskey and took two big gulps before I could stop him.

  Three beers in, he started getting loud and kicking rocks. Four beers in and he was talking nonstop about how they’d all blow the place and tour the country, singing and playing and fucking. When they came to the tower, he playfully jumped onto the bottom rung of the service ladder and said, “Fuck it, why not?”

  At first, she wanted to laugh because she thought he was just a little drunk and being silly, blowing off steam, in his way. Then he began to talk and confess things and she knew he wasn’t playing at all.

  “You love me, Edie?”

  “Skylar, come down from there.”

  “Nah, you wouldn’t. You don’t even know me.”

  “What are you talking about? I know you well enough.”

  “There are things, Edie, that if you knew, you wouldn’t want to know me anymore.”

  “I don’t think that’s true and anyway, you’ve really got a lot of faith in me, don’t you?”

  “Don’t say that. Not like that. I’m just saying that you don’t know everything about me. I may not be who you think I am.”

  “And who is that, Skylar?

  He turned onto a mesh landing that was about six feet off the ground. He sat at the edge, his feet swinging off the side.

  “You know what it’s like to need something so bad, you’d sell your soul for it?”

  She couldn’t answer because the truth was, she didn’t.

  “That’s what I thought. You don’t know anything.”

  “Fuck you, Skylar. Just because I haven’t lived the life you’ve lived doesn’t mean I can’t try to understand.”

  “Fuck me? That’s pretty much all you’ve been doing,” he said with a satisfied smirk.

  “And you think that’s all?”

  “I don’t know what the hell you want from me. I can’t be what you want me to be.”

  “I never asked you to be anything but you,” she said.

  “No, but you expect it. You expect more and I can’t give it to you.”

  “I only ever wanted to be with you, Skylar. I don’t expect you to take care of me.”

  “Stop saying that! You don’t know me!” He became agitated and so she didn’t reply, but climbed up and sat next to him.

  He was shaking and rambling about having to do things he didn’t want to in order to survive on the streets, which she had already guessed.

  “Skylar, you did what you had to do. Anybody would.”

  “I didn’t have to. I did it to get a fix.”

  Edie saw the dark cell in which he was trapped, but was powerless to free him.

  “Why do you wanna try and hurt me?” she asked. “I care what happens to you. Why are you pushing me away?”

  “Because we are gonna be on the streets again and you’d never make it out there.”

  “We can get jobs, split the rent.”

  “Go home to your mommy and daddy where you belong.”

  He jumped up and climbed to the next landing, which was another eight or ten feet up.

  “Come down from there, Skylar.”

  “Why, momma?”

  “Fine. I’m not going to do this with you. If you want me to go, then I’ll go.”

  She climbed down and began to walk away.

  “Edie!” he called after her as she stumbled, half blind from the tears welling up in her eyes.

  The dull thud of a body slamming into the ground ran her through and she was at once nauseous and terrified when she heard the cry forced from him. She willed herself to turn around, knowing she would see Skylar splayed out on the ground, wounded.

  He was there, face first in the dirt, not moving. Her breath left her and for a moment, she had forgotten how to breathe.

  When she was little, she had a dog named Pirate. Pirate would always play outside in the f
ront yard with them, following them around and chasing whatever they had to throw for him. One summer day, they were out there playing Frisbee. Edie had thrown it a half a dozen times already and was tiring of the dog constantly coming back with the Frisbee, begging for her to throw it.

  She resigned herself to throw the disk one final time. She spun the Frisbee across the yard, the wind caught it at the last second and it soared out into the highway right in front of a minivan.

  Pirate followed. The dog collided with the minivan just as she turned to look. She had thrown up right after, believing that was just about as scared and guilty and disgusted as a person could get.

  She was wrong.

  Skylar lay there on the ground, unmoving. Her feet would not move, her mind reeling from the fear of losing him. She heard someone yelling his name, but it sounded like someone else’s voice. It had to be happening to someone else.

  She forced her legs to move, to carry her to him so that she could face whatever he’d done to himself. When she reached him, she saw his back rise and fall. At least he was breathing.

  “Skylar!” she crouched down to him, nudging his arm. “Are you all right?”

  His hand shot out and grabbed her ankle, knocking her back onto her behind. Skylar rolled around on the ground, clutching his ribs and cackling.

  Regaining her feet, she punched him hard in the shoulder and turned away from him as she got to her feet. She stared at him in disbelief as he laughed.

  “Why? You know what? I don’t even wanna know.”

  She stormed away down the bike path back toward the highway with Skylar hobbling behind. He called after her, “I’m sorry. Get back here!”

  When she made it to the pavement, she stuck out her thumb and waited, tears carving a trail through the dust on her face.

  17

  Edie got into the first car that stopped, which happened to be Bob Wheeler. Skylar was unaware that she knew the person she’d gotten into the car with and she watched him stand there, mouth agape.

  Good, she thought. She was full of adrenaline and anger and at that moment, thought it served him right to have to stand there and worry about her for a while.

  She could hardly believe he’d pulled such a stunt after showing her the aftermath of a time when he’d really hurt himself. And with Billy missing and her nerves already worn, she overreacted. Her heart ached at the separation, nonetheless, and she instantly regretted leaving him.

  A week later, she had moved back home, not only out of necessity, but she was still apprehensive about living alone. If Billy had been around, they could have possibly shared an apartment. There was certainly no way she could afford it alone.

  The police had pinged his phone and said that it was in the area, close to his house. Charlotte turned the house upside down searching for the thing, but hadn’t found it.

  Billy Charlie was her best friend. She owed it to him to do what it took to find him, if he wanted to be found. Sometimes she wondered if he really had just taken off to Goodlettsville, never to return. Surely he would’ve said something, wouldn’t he?

  Randall ignored her completely the first couple of days that she was back home until she confronted him about the property tax notice on Skylar’s door. Randall had been on the city council since she was seven and had quite a few favors he could call in from the men who were both deacons and local politicians. It was a wall of corruption, impenetrable and complete.

  She heard him at night, pacing in his study. She would tiptoe across the living room and put her ear to the door. He was crying and praying. There was a knock that repeated itself over and over again at all hours, keeping her awake.

  That Saturday, a muggy afternoon brought with it menacing storms that raced through town bringing down trees and power lines. A flash of lightning and the following crack of thunder jarred her nerves as she walked to Billy’s. She could have asked for a ride, but Randall was in the den with the door locked and she didn’t feel like coaxing him out.

  She went to Billy’s fully expecting Charlotte to allow her into his room without question. Instead, she barred her from entering.

  “You can’t mess it up. I want to leave it in case the police want to come have a look.”

  “Don’t you think they would have already done that, if they thought it was important? Charlotte, maybe I can find something that will help us find out where he is. Please let me in.”

  After the standoff, Charlotte wept in the kitchen while Edie locked herself in Billy’s room. It’d been a long time since she’d been to that house and being in that space reminded her of when they were younger and played video games together there.

  He hadn’t taken anything with him. Billy’s shoes were in the bottom of the closet, his motorcycle jacket and his favorite jeans still hung in the closet. The coveralls with the Andy’s Garage logo embroidered on the front were folded over the back of an armchair.

  Wherever he was, she didn’t think he’d planned on going. She looked over the desk where he kept his laptop and at first, nothing seemed remiss. Scraps of paper and gum wrappers littered the surface, but nothing caught her eye as conspicuous.

  She sat at the desk and tried to think about who Billy would have talked to or messaged last. She brought up his desktop and was met with a security screen. She knew his PIN was 8897, the last four digits of his cell phone number, backwards.

  Without knowing his email password, and having tried a few different terms and failing, she could only click around through folders of photos and receipts which garnered nothing in the way of information about his whereabouts.

  And then she found it. The folder was labeled “Thinking Out Loud”. Should I? She felt an overwhelming sense of hesitation. Out of loyalty to Billy, she couldn’t bring herself to look in there. If he decided to show up in a few days, it would have been a massive breach of trust. If he didn’t show up, she barred the thought from her mind, not wanting to entertain what that might mean.

  It hadn’t come to that yet. And then, she began to wonder what in the hell she was doing there. Nothing she could have done or found there would help locate him. All they could do was wait.

  “I didn’t touch anything, Charlotte. It’s just like it was when I went in.”

  She nodded as Edie walked out the door. The look that passed between said they both knew that Billy might not come back.

  **

  “Someone called for you while you were out,” her mother said, handing her a note with a number on it. “She said to call her back right away.”

  “Hello?”

  “Edie?”

  “This is Edie. Rix, is that you?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. I’m sorry to have to run you down like this, but have you seen Skylar by any chance?”

  “No, why?”

  “Look, I don’t know what went down between you two, but he packed his shit up and took off. Arlene’s going back to Albuquerque. Me and Wendy are gonna stay here till they kick us out or Skylar comes back, whichever comes first.”

  “Has he done this before?”

  “Not like this. When he came back the other day, well, honestly, he was in pretty bad shape.”

  Was he okay? She wondered if he had injured himself when he fell or if he was emotionally wounded that she left him lying there in the dirt.

  All that night, she lay awake kicking herself for getting so mad at him when he was just frustrated by the prospect of being homeless again. It wasn’t really her that he was lashing out against and she should have kept that in mind when she stomped off like a two-year-old.

  She was beginning to doubt whether she could handle Skylar. She wanted to, she really did, and she cared for him. What are you supposed to do when someone you care for jumps from fifteen feet up just to scare you? Was she supposed to be flattered that he thought enough of her to test her?

  The truth was, it didn’t matter. She failed. She abandoned him when he needed her and now, he was gone, and she might never see him again.

  18<
br />
  Randall missed church that Sunday for the first time in twenty years. Her mother called Mr. Wheeler to drive them to church. The ridiculousness of having to call someone else for a ride was not lost on her. There were three of them over the age of sixteen that were perfectly capable of driving.

  Skylar had made her believe it. A sick twist in her stomach prevented her from eating breakfast with her mother and sisters. She was thinking about the look on Skylar’s face the last time she saw him. That look of pain and the bewilderment of betrayal.

  She wished that Randall hadn’t destroyed her phone. The key to his office was on his keyring in the den and a person could, if they had a mind to, slip in there and take the key. He would never notice it was missing. She could take it and use the computer in his office to check her social media for any messages from Billy or Skylar.

  But where was he? Was he in the den, as he had been nearly twenty-four hours a day, or was he in bed like her mother said?

  She decided she would have to risk it.

  Making the excuse of having to find her bible journal and a pen, she slipped away from the others as they waited in the driveway for Mr. Wheeler. The door to the den was ajar, so she quietly stepped inside the room.

  There was a strange metallic smell that permeated the small den, like ink or sheet metal. It was that familiar acrid smell reminiscent of decay. For a long moment, she stared down at a white click pen that lay on top of his appointment calendar. The tip end was covered in blackened gore and there were tiny dark brown flecks splayed across the white paper.

  A sound behind her forced the small scream that was trying to escape closer to its point of exit and she turned, pressing herself up against the desk to brace herself for something. The creature that slithered its way into her father’s den could not be the man she had once known.

  He was drawn and his comb-over hung like slack appendages over his forehead. Unshaven, and from the smell that emanated from him, unwashed, he looked a shadow of the man he had been.

  His outstretched hand reached toward her, and she pulled back, trying to skirt the desk and slip away from his touch.