Rescue (Emily and Mason)

by Seiters, Nadene

  “I am, and you must be Mason’s father.”

  “It’s Hank, not Mr. Killinger.” My father never tells someone to call him Hank. All of my brother’s friends have to call him Mr. Killinger. He believes it instills respect for elders.

  “Mr. Killinger, I really appreciate you allowing me to use your bathroom.” I clear my throat before any more of this awkwardness can go on.

  “Emily and I were going to clean out the old house. Are you ready Emily?” I’m not sure why it bothers me so much that she’s actually meeting my father. It might be because I’m afraid he’ll tell Emily about my mother, or maybe he thinks I’ve already told her. Maybe it’s because I want to meet her folks before she meets my entire family. In fact, if we don’t leave within the next few minutes my brother might actually come home.

  “I, uh, sure. Why not?” She sounds like there are a lot of reasons why she shouldn’t be coming with me to the old house, but I think moving on with the plan for the rest of the day will make some of the hurt from this morning disappear. She adjusts the purse on her shoulder, and I lead her and Baby out of the kitchen.

  “Mason!” My father calls out to me. I turn around just as Baby and Emily are walking through the front doorway to outside. “You be careful, Mason.” It takes me a second to get his meaning. When I finally do, my cheeks heat and I feel my fingers gripping the door unnecessarily hard.

  “Right, Dad, I’ll be careful.” Before he can make me even more embarrassed over his implications that I’m having sex with Emily, I manage to make it out the front door and into my vehicle. Emily slides into the passenger side after she puts Baby in the back.

  “You’re Dad’s nice.” I snort at her statement and start the car. “No, really, he seems like a nice person.” I put the car in reverse and don’t answer her for a long time.

  “He’s an alright father.” I say grudgingly. This wasn’t exactly what I wanted to talk about today. Then again, today doesn’t seem to be going as planned at all.

  Emily seems to understand that she’s stepped over an invisible line, but she keeps plowing on. “Why isn’t he a nice father?” I snort and shift the Camaro into third gear as I get onto the highway. I busy myself with turning up the air conditioner, and then finally I have no more excuses to avoid her question.

  “I think by now you realize that my mother isn’t exactly in the picture. She died when I was two,” Emily opens her mouth to say something and shake my head gently. “Don’t, it’s in the past. After she died, my father lost his mind. He started disappearing from my life, and my brother’s more often. I never asked him where he went, but he reeked of alcohol and cigars when he would get home. Those are some of my first bad memories.” I glance over at Emily to see the look on her face. I’m shocked to find understanding there as if she’s been through something like this too.

  “He lost the love of his life, and while it was wrong I think I can understand.” I finish off my little life history. But it only seems to have dredged up more questions from Emily.

  “How did she die?” Usually people say the word pass or go, not the actual word die. Her frank question takes me off guard but comforts me at the same time. I’m tired of tiptoeing around what happened.

  “She died giving birth to my brother.” A silence falls over the entire car. Even Baby does not make a sound in the back. I have to glance in the rearview mirror to make sure that she’s alright.

  My hand is on the gear shifter, and suddenly there’s something warm over the top of it. I’m doing seventy five on the highway with minimal traffic around, but I still shouldn’t glance down. I do anyway. Emily’s hand is overtop of mine, and when I glance up at her face I see that there’s a feint hint of a blush on her cheeks. She doesn’t voice an apology.

  I can tell that she doesn’t want me to ask about her parents, so I keep my mouth shut. The rest of the ride we listen to old eighties and nineties music on the radio with Baby howling along with a few of the songs. It takes forty minutes total to get the town where I spent the first two years of my life.

  Emily turns down the radio as we take the exit off the highway and I take a left at the end of the ramp. She hasn’t said a word since I told her that my mother died giving birth to my brother, and I’m beginning to wonder what’s going on in her mind right now. Baby slinks into the space between my seat and the back seat, onto the floor, when an eighteen wheeler blows past us.

  “Well, this is it. The town of Benfield.” I cruise down Main Street, and then I take a right onto what used to be my old street. It’s about four miles outside of town, but the eighteen acres of land with the house smack dab in the middle still remains.

  The mailbox at the end of the driveway is hanging off its post by one nail. “We’ll fix that,” Emily says as we pass it by. Part of me is wondering if this was a good idea. But it’s too late now. I’ve already jumped in and made the decision.

  The house is hidden by a few rows of trees, and as we pass through them I realize that I bit off more than I can chew with this. My father never kept the house maintained, and it’s been eighteen years since someone has stepped foot in it. There are probably all manner of animals living in the basement and attic, not to mention in the rest of the house. The shutters are hanging off at odd angles, and a few of the windows have been blown out by bad weather.

  “We’ll fix it,” Emily repeats her earlier statement. I see the glimmer in her eyes as she looks around at the abandoned mess in front of her. I feel my heart sink below me into the seat of the vehicle as I think about the immense damage that must be hidden by this ugly shell.

  “No, it looks like it’s past that. I’ll have to figure something else out.” I wish my father would have told me the house was in this condition, but I guess he hasn’t been back here for eighteen years either. I wonder if any of the appliances are in working order, let alone the fact that I now have to purchase windows.

  “We’ll fix it.” Her lips are set in a thin line, and she’s looking back at Baby. The barn at the back of the property looks like it’s in even worse disrepair. There isn’t anything I can say that will change Emily’s mind. So I just shrug one shoulder and manage to get out of the car without showing her how deeply seeing my mother’s home in such horrible condition.

  Baby eagerly leaps from her back seat position, and immediately squats in the front yard. I roll my eyes as the dog does her business, and wonder if I even need the key in my pocket to get in the front door.

  Chapter Eleven

  Emily

  It’s so dilapidated that I’m not sure this is going to work but if we’re going to try we need tools. I scrounge around the basement first for any sign of a tool box, and just when I’m about to give up I find one in the corner. It’s covered in over a decade’s worth of dust and cobwebs, and the tools inside are a little worse for the wear. But they’re usable.

  I bound up the steps with the small toolbox clutched in both my hands. A smile lights my face as I burst through the doorway into the kitchen, and find Mason staring at the ancient fridge. I’m not sure that he has enough to purchase new appliances, but I’m pretty sure this one doesn’t work. It looks so rusted I would be afraid to plug it in anyway if the power were on.

  “I found tools.” I hold the toolbox up in front of me like a prize, and I kind of feel like it is. Mason startles at my voice and turns to look at me with glazed eyes. Then he snaps back to reality.

  “Oh, good. When I told my Dad I was going to come back here, he warned me it might be bad. But he didn’t tell me the half of it. We don’t really have to do this.” He lets the sentence trail off, and I square my shoulders. This is important to him. I can see it written all over his face as he rubs the back of his neck.

  “What, are you afraid of getting a little dirt on your perfect hands?” I plop the toolbox onto one of the only pieces of furniture left in this house, the kitchen table. It creaks under the weight, and I immediately pick up the heavy box and put it on the dirty countertop instead.
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br />   “Emily,” he starts, but I cross my arms over my chest and ignore the fact that I’m getting dirt all over my shirt. We stare at each other, and he finally stalks up to me. He’s inches from my front as he looks down at me with an indefinable expression on his face. Then he reaches around me and lifts up the lid of the toolbox without looking away from me. Why do I feel like he’s wishing he could put his hands somewhere else?

  “I’ll start checking out the pipes in the basement.” I don’t know much about pipes, but I know that we’re going to need running water to begin cleaning this place up.

  “I’ll come with you.” I gulp. I was hoping that he wouldn’t say that.

  We head down the rickety basement steps, and I click on the flashlight in my hands. I find the small lamp that is like a flashlight and flick it on. Then I go to the small windows near the ceiling of the basement and pull them open. Fresh air wafts over me and I inhale deeply. By the time we’re done here, my allergies are going to be killing me.

  Mason starts over by where the well line comes in through the basement wall, and immediately starts taking his flashlight along the lines. I start on the other side of the basement, and using my own flashlight to look at the PVC pipes for any cracks or bursts. Then I get to the septic pipeline, and remember something that I heard in conversations when I was younger.

  “Do you think the septic system will work?” I know that a septic system is going to cost a lot of money.

  “It’s public sewer, jut not public water.” Mason tells me. I feel relief flood me as I continue my journey through the piping. Now we just have to pray that none of the pipes in the walls burst.

  “Maybe you should hire an inspector before the power is turned back on.” We meet somewhere in the middle, both of us staring up at the pipes. I don’t realize how close I am to him until I actually look down, and his chest is merely inches from my face. Mason doesn’t take a step back, so I’m forced to.

  “I think you’re right. I’ll have to call around tomorrow to see if I can’t get someone out here. This place is way worse than I thought it would be. I might not have enough money to fix it.” Mason finally looks down at me with a deep ingrained sadness in his eyes. I wish it were just a house to him, but this was more than that. It was about rebuilding a life here for himself.

  “Rebuilding takes time, and in time you will have the money. Don’t worry about it.” I click off my flashlight and listen to the sound of thunder in the distance. It’s just a small storm that will roll over quickly probably, but Baby whimpers upstairs.

  “Do you want to grab dinner before I take you home?” Mason clicks off his own flashlight, and we’re left in the dim lighting from the small flashlight on the floor. I can see the hope in his eyes, and I can’t say I didn’t see this coming. Part of me wants to ask him if this is a date, and the other half is telling me just to shut up and go grab a quick meal with him. We’re friends. A quick meal between friends won’t hurt anything.

  “Yeah, I guess I could eat.” I instantly regret telling him that I’ll have dinner with him because a gleam comes into his eyes. There’s no way that I can deny seeing hope in his eyes right now.

  Mason waits for me to ascend the stairs first, and then he flicks off the flashlight in the basement. He makes his way up the steps haphazardly in the dark with his flashlight in hand. I set mine on the counter in the kitchen and wonder if we couldn’t bring some jugs of water over while we wait for the inspector to come by. I could wipe everything down at least with a bucket and a sponge.

  My body immediately tenses when Mason takes my hand in his, but he ignores the tension in my fingers. He leads me from the dilapidated house. By the time we get out to the car, my fingers have relaxed enough that they wouldn’t be considered a death grip. Baby eagerly hops into the back of the car, and Mason closes my door for me. He’s suddenly different since I said yes to dinner, which is exactly what I feared.

  I just don’t have the heart to tell him I’m not emotionally ready for this. Because Mason Killinger is definitely someone I could fall in love with. Just the thought sends chills up my spine, but it also tugs at my heart.

  The ride to a small diner outside of town is quick and quiet. I worry over whether or not we should be leaving Baby in the car, but Mason placates me by saying that this place is old school. They’ll bring the meal out to our car in the parking lot. I don’t think a place like this has been around since the fifties, or earlier. I could be wrong about that, but it sure does feel old school.

  It looks like the clouds are building up pretty bad, but we decide to sit on a small bench under a tree so that Baby won’t be stuck in the car. The silence that ensues as we eat is unlike any other I’ve experienced in my life. Baby is nestled under our feet at the table. A slight breeze has picked up, and I’m not uncomfortable with the lack of conversation.

  By the time I’m done my cheeseburger, the clouds have settled over top. They’re threatening to dump rain any second, and the hair on Baby’s spine has risen. I crumple up my trash and shove it into a waste bin under a tree and quickly take back both trays. Mason has the car started with Baby in the back seat by the time I slide into my passenger seat.

  “We’d better hurry, or we’re going to get stuck in a torrential downpour. I heard one of the waitresses saying these storms are supposed to be severe.” As I’m speaking, Mason crooks a grin in my direction and reverses out of his parking space. I idly wonder if he isn’t some sort of storm chasing freak as he gets onto Main Street.

  Mason

  “Maybe we should turn around!” I try to yell over the loud noise of the rain pelting the windshield, the top of the car, and perhaps even underneath the car. It seems like the large droplets are coming at us from every possible angle!

  “What?” I hear Emily faintly scream over the noise. Baby’s whining in the back at the top of her lungs, but it’s still barely audible.

  “There’s a motel on Main Street not too far from the diner!” I try to explain to her, but even though she’s leaning close to me I can tell she still has not heard me. With a frustrated sigh, I pull the car over near the on ramp for the highway. Emily’s going to be upset with me, but I execute a U-turn. There’s no use in either one of us dying this evening just to get home when I know for a fact she does not go to school at regular hours.

  It takes me half an hour to get to the motel, and it takes me another five minutes just to find a parking space. I motion for Emily to stay in the car with Baby, and then I duck through the rain. I’m completely soaked by the time I get into the lobby, and I’m pretty sure I was almost struck by lightning three to four times. It booms again outside and the entire building vibrates with the violence of the storm.

  “It’s like a hurricane out there!” The receptionist at the desk looks frazzled as I pull my wet, soggy wallet from my back pocket.

  “It sure is. If you want a room, you’d better hurry before the power goes out!” The woman takes my card from me, and I try to push my hair back from my forehead as she charges me for a full night. “Room 103, here’s the key, and no pets allowed.” The smile I give her makes her blush, and I don’t say a word about having a dog in my car. It’s not like someone’s going to come into the room and check in one night. We’ll just have to keep Baby quiet.

  I don’t bother running back to the car. My walk is leisurely and full of danger as lightning streaks overhead. The rumble makes my entire body quiver, but I’m enjoying the rush of adrenaline. My car is going to need a thorough cleaning tomorrow because I plop my soggy butt down in the driver’s seat. Emily doesn’t bother trying to speak as I pull around to the empty parking space in front of our room. She just gives me an odd look before she ducks out into the rain with the card key in hand and Emily at her heels.

  I watch them slip into the room, and wonder what I’m going to say to her when I get in there. Like a coward, it takes me about two minutes to shut off my Camaro finally and open up my door. As soon as the rain hits my arm, the hairs on my sk
in rise due to goose bumps. I push open the door to the room slowly and find Baby lounging at the foot of the bed with Emily nowhere in sight.

  The thought of sleeping in wet clothes never crossed my mind, but now that I think about it, it doesn’t sound appealing. The toilet flushes and the bathroom door opens a few seconds later. A drenched Emily comes out of the bathroom. She’s fixed some of the make up on her face again and put her hair up into a messy bun. My throat closes, and I immediately look away from her to the blank television. Her shirt is sticking to her flesh in a tantalizing way, and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.

  Flipping on the News channel seems like a decent idea, except I can’t find the remote. I search around the drawers of the dressers and find a forgotten pair of panties wadded up in one corner, and an old condom wrapper in another. I never once claimed that this was a fancy place, but I would have thought they’d clean a little better.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t sleep on the bed,” Emily suggests. She’s leaning over my shoulder, and I didn’t notice until she actually spoke. To say I jump out of my skin is an understatement. I practically fall into a heap of quivering nerves at her feet. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing, could you just help me find the remote for the TV?” I glance up into the mirror at her expression and see amusement in her eyes. There’s also a hint of a blush on her cheeks. I remind myself I have three weeks to go until her eighteenth birthday. There will not be any thoughts of condom usage until then.

  “You mean the one that Baby’s currently slobbering on?” Emily points down at half the remote sticking out of the dog’s mouth, and I feel my cheeks grow a little pale. So much for making it look like a dog didn’t stay here. Now I’m going to have to pay for that.

  I manage to wrestle the gloppy mess from Baby, but it’s useless. The poor remote is practically broken in two, so I have to use the actual buttons on the television. I’ve never used the buttons on a television before. I manage to find the News station without any more incidences. Emily and I watch in silence as the woman motions towards a huge storm looming overhead, and the kicker is that we’re just on the outskirts. The worst is yet to come.