Jack stopped, turned around and headed back towards Billy, who took two steps backwards. Jack was on him in seconds pointing into Billy’s chest, anger, or hurt, in his face. “What would we do? Huh? What? You called it the other day and I’ve been thinking about it ever since.” His face became wrinkled and he cocked his head. “You’ve already grown through childhood where a real father is needed. You’re on your own now. You’re off to college. And me,” his finger turned toward himself, “I don’t know how to be a father. I can’t just jump into some role I’ve never had.”
“One you’ve never wanted,” Billy said.
Jack dropped his finger-pointing arm. “I can’t win with you,” he said.
“Win what?”
“A word battle. I run out. I plan words ahead. When I run out, I just run out. I don’t know what I want to win besides a feeling that somewhere along the way I’ve made a right decision.” Before Billy could speak, Jack turned to walk away again. “You don’t even know me,” he said. “How do you know you even want me as a father this far into your life?”
Billy hung his head. “I don’t know what I want. You’re right. But I think we both know what the truth is.”
“Do we?” Jack walked on.
Billy followed him. “My mom died because she knew the truth,” Billy said to Jack’s back.
“She died because she lived several lies and forgot who she was. That’s all.” Jack said.
“Maybe so—” Billy started.
Jack stopped him from completing his sentence by holding up a palm and saying, “Stop! Enough of your buts and maybes. Enough.”
At the church, Hillman held the ladder as Jack began to climb. When Billy stepped to it, Hillman blocked his way. “Give him some space, kid. We’ll need supplies up there, nails and such. You can piddle around getting things together for a little while, can’t you?” It was a request, not an order.
“Sure, Hill.” Billy turned away.
“For both of you,” Hillman said to Billy’s unasked question. “You both need space. We’ll need some planks. I’ll call down a few cuts. That’ll give you something else to do. Take your time. Clean up some.”
“I know. I can keep busy.”
Hillman climbed the ladder and in a few minutes called the cuts down to Billy.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Billy heard Jack say.
“I didn’t want to listen to it,” Hillman said.
Jack said, “Thanks,” but Hillman didn’t answer back.
For the first few hours of the day, Jack and Hillman worked together as Billy kept himself busy and mumbled under his breath. Without much of a warning, Jack excused himself, climbed down the ladder and walked over to Billy. “I’m sorry for all that earlier stuff,” he said.
“You had time to come up with the words?” Billy asked.
“Yeah. I suppose I did.”
“You have any more of them?”
“I do.” Jack looked around. Piles of wood had been stacked by length, tools had been placed together, extension cords coiled neatly. “You’ve been busy,” he said.
“Did everything but pick sawdust from between blades of grass.”
“I’m afraid,” Jack told him. “I don’t know what a father is supposed to do. How he is supposed to act. In another couple months, you’ll be gone. Without Alice here, there’s no reason to return. I’ve heard you talk with Scott and I know you want out of this town. Why should I make that decision more difficult?” Jack shook his head. “No. I’m just someone you met. We have no past together. No memories. We don’t know each other. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t want to hold you back. I don’t want you to have a reason to alter your goals, the plans you’ve already made for your life. You should go on. You have a great future ahead of you.” Jack put out his hand. “I’m just glad we met.”
They shook hands.
“That’s all the words,” Jack said.
Billy sighed. “Then you’re not afraid of being my father, only that you might cause me to change my plans for myself?”
“I want you to move forward with your own life without having to worry about me or anyone else,” Jack said.
“I see. And what if I don’t mind the change? What if I want to see what this whole thing is really about? What if I want to play it out?”
“Then I’ll be here. But do it at your pace. And if you choose not to at all, then I’ll understand. We’ve both lived this long without each other,” Jack said, “so think about it. Think it through.”
“Good words,” Billy said.
After shaking hands once again, they both looked up and saw that Hillman stood at the edge of the roof looking down. He nodded at them. Billy wondered what Hillman thought just happened.
For the remainder of the day, the three of them worked hand-in-hand. Billy felt relieved. Jack had removed all obligation from Billy, which was fine with him. Enough had happened that summer. He didn’t need to be concerned about who his biological father had been. The truth was that neither of the men had ever been a part of his life, only a shadow bearing down on him.
As Billy stepped from the last rung of the ladder, he heard his name called. “Billy?”
Before turning around, Billy responded. “Grandpa?”
“We’ve been wrong,” the man said, his voice shaking. “Very wrong. You have always been your own person. It was us who tried to think you into someone else. You never succumbed.” He scratched his chin. “William was a misguided young man, thrilled with his own power, just as his father was thrilled with his power. We were two of a kind, crazy with what we couldn’t handle. And we both made grave mistakes with our lives.”
There was a pause as Billy stepped from the last rung and turned to face his grandfather.
“Forgive me?” Grandpa Maynard said.
Billy blinked.
“We can start fresh. Like you said, strangers meeting for the first time,” Grandpa said. “We’ve missed you.”
Billy stepped forward and hugged his grandfather. “And Grandma?” he asked.
“Oh, she’s fine. I’m pretty sure she wants to start over, too.” He chuckled, “She’s probably making tea right this minute.”
* * *
Billy waved as Jack watched the two of them walked away.
“That’s good,” Jack said.
Hillman stood next to Jack. He looked over. “You need to talk to someone tonight?”
“No, Hill. I think I can probably be alone tonight. Think this whole damned thing through.”
* * *
Billy’s blue truck followed close behind his grandfather’s Lincoln.
Grandma Maynard wasn’t exactly ready when Billy and his grandfather walked in. “So you did it?” she accused.
Billy checked his grandfather’s face for a reaction. It became stern. “Nothing changed in the last few weeks that alter what I remember of Billy.”
“What about William?”
“He’s been gone for over twenty years. Billy’s been right here.”
Grandma’s lips quivered. “What am I supposed to do?”
Before Grandpa could speak, Billy stepped forward. “You could make some tea,” he said.
“Oh, Billy.” Grandma held out her arms. Billy walked over and hugged her.
“We need to be there for each other,” Grandpa said.
“I’m not sure I’m ready for Jack, just yet,” Grandma said.
“Take it slowly,” Billy said.
Grandma let go of him and stepped into the kitchen. Grandpa put his arm on Billy’s shoulder and led him into the living room. “Let’s talk about something else for a while.”
* * *
When Friday morning arrived, Billy got out of bed much earlier than usual. After making a pot of coffee, he showered and dressed. He sat quietly in the living room sipping his coffee and thinking, until Scott snapped him out of his trance. “You were out late. How’d it go?”
With a sense of peace, Billy broke the silence with
his own voice this time. “Like a family reunion. We recalled old times, told stories, and promised never to stop seeing one another.”
“You look good,” Scott said.
“I feel good.”
Scott smiled and walked into the kitchen for his first cup of coffee.
Billy gathered his thoughts and finished his cup. The two of them passed in the archway between kitchen and great room.
“You ought to grab a muffin or something,” Scott said, coffee in one hand and a blueberry muffin on a plate in the other.
“In a minute.” Billy made a quick phone call, then grabbed a muffin like Scott had suggested. He poured another cup of coffee too. From the archway, Billy told Scott he was leaving early.
“Do what you have to,” Scott said as though he knew what Billy had been thinking all morning.
Inside the truck, all got quiet. Only the muted bird songs could be heard through the closed window. As usual, though, Billy rolled the window down and let in the sounds of wind through leaves, the creaking of two trees leaning against one another, the scent of dew in early morning, all with the bird songs prominent. He started the truck and held his coffee cup in the air as he slowly maneuvered the dirt road. The muffin sat next to him on the seat, wrapped in a napkin. Once on the macadam road surface, Billy placed his coffee cup on the dash and unwrapped his muffin. Driving carefully, he turned right onto Route 22 once he hit the crossroads. When he passed his old house, he told his mother he loved her, sipped more coffee, and broke off another piece of muffin to eat. The sound of his own voice saying those words choked him up a bit, but he kept driving, kept chewing and sipping at the coffee.
The sun had peeked over the mountain before he ever turned onto 22, and now, looking into the rearview mirror, all he could see was a blinding light. Ahead, the leaves sparkled brightly, flashing as they twisted in the breeze. Already the morning felt warm. At Lamont River Road, Billy turned left. He finished the muffin, then washed it down with the last of the coffee. He placed the crumpled napkin into the coffee cup to soak up the tiny amount that accumulated in the bottom, then set the cup on the seat next to him.
He kept one eye on the road and the other on the Lamont River as he drove along it. Traffic was light. He passed a man dressed in a suit who had gotten out of a new BMW to walk down near the river’s edge. By the look on the man’s face, Billy felt as though he was going through a change in his life, much like the changes Billy felt he had gone through recently. His heart went out to the man.
Bending across the seat for the handle, Billy rolled down the passenger side window, which let in the sounds of the rapids. All of life’s questions could be answered through the sounds of water, he thought, if only it could be understood.
Billy drove all the way into the center of town, taking his time, stopping once just to think. A crane’s boom stretched high enough over the ground to hold, in mid-air, a great cross. It stood, perched in the sky above the town.
Billy looked at his watch. Even though he left early, his dawdling had made him a few minutes late. Attempting to make up the time, all Billy did was proceed to get himself frustrated. Traffic, lights, construction, all slowed him down, as though it was being done deliberately to postpone his actions. When he tried to go around some of the downtown construction, Billy found his detour even slower.
When he finally arrived, Billy parked directly on the church lawn. He ran into the church and began to climb the stairs behind the vestibule. Taking two steps at a time, he didn’t stop until he heard talking above him. Jack and Hillman were buckling up their harnesses. The clanks and snaps trailed down through the stairwell.
Near the top, he smelled fresh air coming through the open trap door. He saw the blue of sky. Jack had already climbed onto the peak.
Hillman unbuckled his harness. “I heard you coming. Jack didn’t, though, so be careful not to surprise him.” Hillman helped Billy harness up. “You’re a brave kid.”
The two of them shook hands.
“Be careful up there,” Hillman said.
“I will.”
Billy heard Jack just as he pulled himself up and out of the trap door. Jack looked the other way, watching as the cross slowly came into view on the opposite side of the peak.
Billy latched the harness before standing. Warm summer air caused the rooftops to steam. Billy looked over the town. He nodded when Jack turned and saw him.
“The last test?” Jack said.
“Now it’s official.” Billy held out his hand for Jack to take.
They shook hands.
Jack slapped Billy’s shoulder. “We’d better do the job then.”
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