by Schiller, MK
“I’m fine. Forget I said anything,” I say as I gather the garbage from the table.
“I’ll go check us out.”
“Thanks.”
Funny. Relief and anxiety at the same time feels a lot like heartburn. I’m waiting for Aiden in the hotel gift store when panic pays me a visit without the decency to call first. It seizes me in its grip when I stare at a tiny globe of the world. It’s the kind of object people keep on their desks for decoration. I spin it, realizing that the world might be my oyster, but who knows if that shell will have a pearl or something slimy inside? I have no prospects, and what appealed to me the other night has me scared shitless today.
“Hey,” Aiden says when he finds me, placing an arm on my shoulder. “We’re all set.”
I stiffen against his touch. “Great.”
“Are you okay, Cooper?”
“I was just thinking that I could close my eyes, spin this, point to a place, and move there.”
“Worst idea ever.”
“Why?”
“The world is mostly water. What if you land in the middle of the ocean?”
“I’ll spin again until I hit land. I’ll be an explorer.”
“Did you have some cocaine with your corn puffs this morning?”
“This is not a joke.” I am not a joke.
“What if you land in a foreign country?”
“I have a passport.” A passport and no prospects. He is right. I get that, but I feel lost. If I can just focus on a place where I can go, a piece of land, a goal that I can hurdle then I can aim for something.
“What are you going to do for money?”
“I have some.” I shrug. “I can figure it out as I go along. Maybe I’ll be one of those people who travels from place to place, doing good deeds along the way.”
“That’s not a job.”
“It could be.”
“It’s the premise for a TV show. It’s not a job.”
“I’ll figure it all out. Right now, I need a starting point.”
“Who can argue with that logic?” He gestures to the globe. His sarcasm and lack of support pushes me forward.
“Fine, I’m spinning.”
“Spin away, Cooper. Spin it to win it.”
I give it a decent turn. When I open my eyes, my index finger lands on…
Fuck me.
Aiden peers over my shoulder. I attempt to move my finger, but he clasps my wrist with his lighting quick reflexes. “Sudan, huh?”
“Yep.”
“Send me a postcard and make sure you pack plenty of sunscreen. The sun will burn a hole right through your skin.”
“You’re trying to scare me.”
“Yeah, ’cause the scariest thing about a young girl living in Sudan is the climate.”
“Says the man who goes to Pakistan on vacation. I’m spinning again.”
“Are you sure that’s allowed?” He gestures to the globe. “The great wheel has spoken. Your fate is sealed.”
“My game, my rules.” My screwed-up life, Aiden.
He crosses his arms and stands back.
This time I turn it harder. In fact, I bitch-slap the world with an open palm. It swivels fast then falls before my eyes. Right out of the brass clips holding it in place. It bounces a few times before it rolls down the carpeted aisle and finally clinks against the glass exit door. Someone opens the door at that moment, causing it to roll again, right back to me.
I have the world at my feet and all I want to do is stomp on it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Aiden
We are finally making some miles toward our destination. The closer we get to it, the more I dread it. The L.A. traffic jam isn’t making it any better.
Emma’s holding the world on her lap. Literally, since the store had a break it and buy it policy.
I sensed her freaking out at breakfast. I didn’t help. I have my own fair share of fears. Plus, I didn’t know what she wanted. We’d avoided the conversation. I think she’s afraid I might be an anglerfish after all. That maybe I’m angling her.
I am not.
I am trying to figure this out. I am trying not to be pissed off that she’d rather move to Sudan than talk to me rationally. Okay, I know the Sudan thing isn’t going to happen. But a part of me wonders if it’s her way of saying she doesn’t care where she ends up, even if it’s away from me.
I sneak glances at her while I drive. She is so sad and lost. She’s a natural optimist with nothing to feel optimistic about. I’m to blame for some of that because I shared my feelings with her in present tense only. I didn’t talk about the past, and I certainly didn’t hint toward the future.
Cut me a break, Emma. I’m in new territory with no map or compass. Give me a second to find my way to you…please.
She’s holding on to that stupid globe like it’s a fucking crystal ball.
“We haven’t known each other very long,” she says.
“True. But you know more about me than anyone else. In fact, you’re probably an expert when it comes to me.”
“I believe that.” She’s quiet for a while staring out her window. “Why mythology?”
“What?”
“You name dogs after mythological characters. Why that?”
At least that’s an easy one.
“When I was young, I read a book about it. Then I read every book I could find on the subject. It made sense that the gods are vengeful. That they deceived, cheated, stole, and caused chaos just for the hell of it.”
“That’s bleak.”
Okay, maybe not as easy as I thought.
“I’m bleak.”
“You’re not. You’re funny and kind and affectionate.”
I crack my neck. Is that what she sees in me? “Thank you.”
“Will you tell me about the scars?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why?”
“Explaining it would be talking about it, wouldn’t it?”
“And Amy? Who is she?”
Amy is her mother before she changed her name. But I can’t tell her that, can I? Sometimes, the truth will hurt a person more than lies. I’m not about to hurt Emma. “Off the table.”
“This is a very small table.” She tilts her head. “Is it a table set for one?”
I grip the wheel tighter as my heart pumps uncharacteristically loud. “Your talent for interjecting metaphor into everyday conversation is almost as impressive as your knowledge of the animal kingdom.”
“You hide behind jokes, Sheffield.”
“See what an expert you are when it comes to me?” She looks away. I put my arm around her, pulling her toward me. I stroke and kiss her hair. She lays her head against my chest. “Give me a little space on some things. Can you do that for me, angel?”
“Sure, Aiden. I can give you all the space you want.”
That didn’t go well. I expect her to shut down, but she asks another question. Thankfully, it’s one I can answer.
“Did you have dogs as a kid?”
“One.”
“What was his name?”
“Her. Her name was Sassy. She was a hunting dog.” The memory is bittersweet.
“What happened to her?”
“I had to give her away.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. She was a good friend. She taught me what loyalty is.”
“Why did you give her away?”
“I couldn’t take care of her anymore. Although, looking back I think she took care of me more than the other way around.”
“You miss her.”
“Every day, Emma.”
She squeezes my hand. “She sounds very special.”
“Why don’t we talk about what happened back at the hotel?”
Emma turns to the window. “I don’t want to.”
“Will you tell me why you lied to me at least?”
“What do you mean?”
“You said you were afraid of flyi
ng, but you have a passport.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m not afraid of flying.”
I take off my sunglasses and turn to her. “So you do have that fear?”
She chews on her bottom lip. “No, you’re right. I was lying.”
“But why, Cooper?”
“I lost my parents so close together. I figured the longer I held on to the urn, the longer my mom was still with me.” She shakes her head as if she hates her explanation. “So stupid.”
I squeeze her knee. “No, it’s very sweet, but you realize it’s not true.”
“I’m so confused. I don’t understand why she wouldn’t want to be in the same place as my daddy. We scattered his ashes in the Redwoods.”
“Emma, she is with him. The bones and blood and dust we leave behind don’t mean a damn thing. In Afghanistan, there were times we had to leave men behind because we couldn’t carry their bodies. But we said a prayer and moved on. They found their way home because their souls were still intact. The soul will always find its way back. You have to trust me on this.”
She wipes a tear from her eye. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”
“I’m not. If we were on a plane, we’d miss this.” I jerk my head to the road surrounded by trees and the valley below us. “And not just the scenery.” I gesture between us. “Probably this, too. Emma, I’m not exaggerating when I say, regardless of all the fucked-up stuff that has happened, these have been some of the best days of my life.”
“Me too, Aiden.”
A part of me thinks she’s lying again because she’s had such a good life despite the last year. But the way she looks at me, her expression so genuine and pure, I cannot doubt her.
“Now let’s talk about you freaking out.”
“I’m calling for more space, too.”
“Sorry, space is limited. Besides, I was there, remember? I already know what happened. I need to understand the reasons behind it.”
She shifts away from me, gripping the globe tight like a basketball. “I’m just trying to figure out my place in the world. My methods might be…”
“Stupid.”
She rolls her eyes. “That’s one word.”
“Why don’t you throw the world out the window for a second?”
She arches her brow. “That’s littering.”
“I don’t mean literally.”
“Okay.” Her laughter is hollow, laced with cynicism. She lifts the globe. At first, I think there is a crack at the equator, but it breaks into two clean pieces. She’s been holding it together the whole time. “I was holding the world and I broke it.”
You may have broken your world, angel, but you opened mine.
I take each piece and toss it in the back. Then I clasp her hand, kissing the underside of her wrist.
“Let’s figure it out together this time.”
“You don’t have to fix it for me. I can fix my own stuff. I’m working it out in my head. I’m sorry you have to witness my fucked-up decision-making process. We had great sex, a few amazing days, and we said some really beautiful things to each other. I don’t expect you to rescue me. I don’t need rescuing. I’m not going to force you into something you’re not ready for.”
Oh, Emma, you rescued me already. Let me just return the favor.
“Emma—”
“I don’t want charity. I’m not one of those girls who needs someone to take care of her. And I’m certainly not imagining what our babies would look like if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Our babies would be beautiful. Shit. Where the fuck did that come from?
“Quit your pain-in-the-ass pride and just listen up. It’s not charity. It’s me caring about you, and being your friend. It’s me not wanting you to go to Sudan.”
“I wasn’t going to Sudan.”
“Sudan’s a fucking metaphor!” I sigh in frustration, gripping the wheel harder.
“Oh, okay.”
“Move to the Sanctuary. Butte Falls is a nice town. You like small towns, right?”
“I love small towns. Are you asking me to move in with you? It’s too soon.”
“Not exactly.” But you wouldn’t be away from me, either. “You can have your own place there. You won’t get paid much, but it does come with room and board. You saw the cottages.”
“They look nice.”
“They’re small but sturdy homes. The job is rewarding. You already know that. There are a few colleges close by, too. You could schedule shifts around school if that’s what you want.” She opens her mouth to say something, but I’m not done yet. “Let me finish. It’s not just because I want you close to me, even though it would be the biggest bald-faced lie I’ve ever told if I said I didn’t. It’s not because of the situation you are in, even though it requires immediate resolution. It’s definitely not because I think you can’t do it on your own, Emma. You’re a survivor. I figured that out a while ago.”
“Then why?”
“You’re suited for it. Most people aren’t, but you are. You’re strong and compassionate. The dogs love you, and dogs know how to read a person’s soul. You have a good one, Cooper. What do you think?”
She smiles her first smile of the day. For a brief second, I get lost in it. I think it’s such a nice smile that it can fix a cracked world. She kisses my cheek. “I’d love to.”
I turn my head and kiss her lips. A horn blares behind me. I step on the gas to close the huge gap I’ve left between the SUV and the car ahead of us.
“You gotta learn to keep your hands off me. I’m driving.”
“Sorry,” she says, falling back on her seat, her smile growing. “Could I adopt Faith?”
“Yeah, Emma, we can make it official, but I think you belonged to her the moment you rescued her. There’s an old Indian proverb that says if you save a life, then you are responsible for it.”
“I’ve heard it. I always thought it was backward, but it does make sense now.”
She’s quiet for a while. We are both absorbing the sharp turn our lives are taking.
“And us?” she asks.
“And we keep doing us.” My fingers relax around the wheel for the first time since we left the hotel. Truth is, I want her in my life. Hell, I want to make a life with her. It scares me how much I want it.
“That’s good because I really want to keep doing us, too.”
“So it’s settled?”
“Yes.”
There’s a loud, solid swoosh of two people exhaling at the same time.
Amy, I don’t know why you sent me your daughter, but I’m thankful you did. I pray to God you approve and I’m doing the right thing by keeping your secrets.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Aiden
We stop to gas up and get snacks.
“We should make it through Phoenix tonight,” I say.
Emma’s using the squeegee to wipe the dead bugs off the windshield. She has to run around to the other side because she can’t reach all the way. I put the coffees on the hood and take the brush from her.
“I’ll finish up, Cooper.”
She takes a sip of her coffee. “Oh my God, this is so good.”
It’s just gas station coffee, but I agree with her. We’ve both been craving caffeine since we hit the Arizona border.
“Yeah, it is.” I pull out the pack of peanuts I bought and throw it to her. “We’ll stop for dinner in about an hour, sound good?”
She nods, coming over to my side of the car. She opens the package and aims a peanut at me. I open my mouth and catch it.
“I wish I could cook for you.”
“You want to cook for me?”
“We’ve been eating out so much.”
“It’s unavoidable. We’re on a road trip after all.”
“I know, but I’d love to make you something.” She stands on her tiptoes to kiss me.
“You like to cook, Cooper?”
“Sometimes.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I gesture to the hig
hway. “We should get going.”
“Can I drive for a while? You’ve been driving this whole way.”
“I’m not comfortable with someone else driving.”
“I’m a good driver, Aiden.”
“I’m sure you are. The thing is, I’m not a very good passenger.”
“Okay,” she says, turning away.
This is such a small thing, but I’ve always had a hard time not being in control of every situation. I grab her arm before she heads to the passenger side. “I’ll try it, though. You can drive.”
I put the keys on her hand.
While Emma’s driving, I look up a place with a kitchenette, make reservations, and tell her where it is.
She acts as if I’ve booked us in a five-star hotel when the reality is it’s the cheapest place we’ve stayed. James Taylor sings “Something in the Way She Moves.” I’ve heard it a ton of times, but I actually understand it now. Emma hums along. The smooth black road rushes under us.
“Go to sleep, Aiden. I’ll get us there.”
As if I can sleep with someone else driving.
…
It’s been a few years since Amy left Harlan…and me. Harlan went and got himself a dog. She’s a German shepherd mix with dark brown hair interspersed with black spots. I hate her. It’s my responsibility to make sure she’s fed and walked. If she tears up his shoes, it comes out of my backside. If she barks at night, I get barked at. And worse, if she shits in the house, he rubs my nose in it.
Not that he’s nice to her, either. He named her “Bitch” like it’s her real name. I can’t exactly say, “Bitch, heel,” in the middle of the sidewalk when I’m walking her. I would get odd looks, and I already get enough of those. I name her Sassy. Because she’s smart in a way. Whenever Harlan beats her, she doesn’t fight back or growl or anything stupid, but she does hold her head up. I admire that about her. For the most part, Harlan ignores me unless I do something to make him angry, or Sassy does.
Even though I hate Sassy, she seems to like me. Whenever I come home from school, she rushes to greet me, jumping on me, setting her paws on my chest until I pet her. Harlan makes her sleep outside, and it’s been very cold lately. On especially cold nights, I sneak her into the house and she sleeps with me. I find myself talking to her during our walks, telling her how much I hate life. Sometimes I cut myself. It gives me a sense of control like I’m in charge of my own pain. Ridiculous.