Ten Seconds of Crazy

by Randileigh Kennedy

Or worse.

  CHAPTER 7

  I opened up my eyes as Reid shut off the engine of his car.

  “Where are we?” I asked inquisitively. I couldn’t tell how long I’d been asleep.

  “Utah,” he said, putting his arms up in the air as he climbed out of his car. “Not bad, right?”

  I looked around at the brown mountains in the distance. It still looked pretty similar to Nevada.

  “Was I asleep for long?” I asked as I stretched my arms and legs. “What time is it?”

  “You were out for about five hours. I didn’t want to wake you, but I needed to fill up the tank. I figured you’d be starving by now. We didn’t exactly get to eat our breakfast this morning before we left.” Reid smiled as he looked down at the ground. “Want to get some food?”

  “That sounds perfect,” I agreed. Reid went into the gas station and came out with a whole bag of food items.

  “I saw a spot a couple miles back. Want to eat outside?” he asked politely. I nodded and he climbed back into the car, handing me the grub. There were taquitos, chips, fruit, and some drinks. We headed out on the highway again, backtracking a few miles to get to a rest stop Reid saw earlier.

  He pulled off the interstate into a dirt lot overlooking the mountains. It was a beautiful area, nestled in the pine trees. The sun was shining and it was a magnificent view.

  Reid exited the car and opened the trunk. He rummaged around for about a minute, then walked over to the passenger side and handed me some folded papers.

  “I promised I would tell you everything,” he said, motioning to the letters in my hand. “And I told you I would call my parents too, which is what I’m going to do now while you read those. Thanks for trusting me.” He smiled at me and it felt so genuine and real. It was hard to be mad at him for everything that had happened this morning. He laid out a blanket on the top of the trunk area just above the back seat, motioning for me to climb back and sit there. “I’ll join you for some lunch in just a minute. Read the letters,” he urged.

  I smiled at him and nodded, comfortably sitting up on the back of the car, overlooking the scenery. It was such a pretty spot, yet I seemed out of place. I was in a new state, sitting on a car owned by a guy I just met. Well apparently he didn’t even own the car. And likewise it wasn’t necessarily just the two of us. It was surreal to think about just how much had happened over the last two days. It was like a dream.

  Reid dialed out on his phone and I began unfolding the papers in my hand.

  Reid,

  I know this is going to be a weird letter for you to get, but I felt compelled to write it. I lost a good friend yesterday. Things are crazy over here. I don’t even have all of the details yet, but his Humvee was attacked by some local militants and none of the guys made it out. There were six of them. Maybe you’ll even hear about it on the news before you get this letter, I don’t know. But it really made me think. I already know life is short. I’m not invincible over here. None of us are. Hell, I wouldn’t be even if I wasn’t in this war zone, I know that. But my buddy Chris, the guy who died, he had a family. A wife, a little girl, and another baby on the way. I can’t imagine what they are going through. I know I don’t have people like that depending on me back home, but I’ve got you. And Mom and Dad. And Schucker. And it made me think about the what-ifs. I know Mom wouldn’t even let me say the words “what if I don’t make it back home…” I get that. But there is some small reality to that. It’s possible. It’s always possible, and pretending it isn’t doesn’t change that.

  So here’s the deal. I want you to do something for me. I’m sending you a sealed envelope - don’t open it. Put it aside. Tuck it away. You’ll probably never need it. But remember where you put it, okay?

  That’s it. A simple request, right? Now go get on your knees and start praying the Chargers make it through the playoffs. And go do something nice for Mom, it settles her nerves.

  ~ Preston

  I looked up to see Reid still on the phone, pacing in the dirt about thirty feet away from the car. He looked like he was having a heated conversation. I so badly wanted to listen in on what he was saying, but he deserved some privacy.

  I opened up another folded paper, and this one had an additional folded up piece inside of it. I read the letter portion first.

  Reid,

  I didn’t genuinely believe you would ever have to open this envelope. But at the same time some piece of me must’ve known the possibility existed, otherwise I wouldn’t have written this. By opening this letter, you must’ve gotten the news. It’s weird to write a letter like this before I’m even dead, but I’m sure it must be even weirder for you to read after the fact.

  Don’t be sad. Don’t be angry. This choice was mine and I don’t regret any of it. I don’t even regret leaving you or Mom or Dad behind because I did this FOR you, whether anyone else was proud or supportive of my decision. So don’t ever be angry.

  Do you remember those pranks we used to pull on Mom and Dad when we were kids? It would drive them crazy. They would get so mad at us, but no matter how angry they seemed, they laughed about it later and told us we were simply making memories and that was okay. Do you remember our epic road trips every summer to Michigan to stay with GiGi and Grandpa? If I was a betting man I would say that’s exactly what I was thinking about during whatever happened to me when I died. I know this because it’s the exact thing I think about when things are rough over here. I think about rafting, and Charleton Bridge, and the world’s best truck stop pizza. And I think of you, and the best memories a boy can have of his little brother.

  I wiped a small tear from my face as I read, surprised to feel the emotion of his brother’s words. I obviously didn’t know him, nor did I even know Reid very well, but the bond they clearly shared tugged at me. I never had that with anyone.

  So if I’m gone, brother, let’s be kids again. Even if it makes our parents crazy and they don’t understand it at first. I know Mom wants my ashes put into the mausoleum near Aunt Vicki’s house. I understand she wants a place to mourn me. A place to go to grieve. But brother, we are not grievers. We are not sad. We are twelve and nine again, playing King of the Boat. We are fourteen and seventeen again, jumping off that bridge. We are young and fearless swimming out past the buoys to GiGi’s special boat dock under the splatter of fireworks on the Fourth of July.

  That’s exactly what I want. I want the last bit of me - whatever’s left - I want scattered over the best parts of my life. And I want you to think of me, brother, and all the ways our lives were grand - simple - extraordinary - whatever you would call it.

  So I’ve enclosed a list. One last, epic road trip together. Even if you have to steal me away from our sobbing mother, someday she will know it was right. And then they can laugh and smile and remember me the way you do - wild - fun - fearless - crazy.

  Because ten seconds, brother. That’s all it takes for the good life.

  ~ Preston

  I wiped another tear away from my face. I finally understood where Reid was coming from. It made sense why he was doing all of this. He slowly made his way back over to the car and climbed up on the top of the back seat next to me. He reached into the bag of food from the gas station and pulled out some taquitos. They were still warm, probably from the sun beating down on their tight foil wrapping.

  “Did you read the letters?” he asked quietly.

  “Yeah. Is this the road trip list?” I asked, holding up the only other piece of paper I hadn’t yet read through. He nodded and I smiled back at him, slowly unfolding the piece of paper.

  Lay me to rest…

  1) That tepee in the woods down the Truckee River. Remember that time we hid inside and Mom and Dad couldn’t find us for over an hour? Mom was so pissed. I regret nothing.

  2) Charleton Bridge - touch the water and know how proud I am of you for your courage. I know I was the big brother, but you were the one I always looked up to. I was scared shitless to jump, but I couldn’t show you that.
You were so eager to fly and I was eager not to disappoint you.

  3) Bull riding in Nebraska - I can’t believe Dad never told us they were just farm cattle. Remember we thought we hit the big time?

  4) No one does truck stop pizza like Iowa - do you think that ladder to the roof is still there? I think that was the only time I ever heard Mom curse.

  5) Forth of July fireworks at the cottage - forever my favorite holiday on so many levels. Swim at midnight. Rub lightening bugs all over your face. Howl at the moon.

  May we forever be howling, brother.

  ~ Preston

  “So what exactly does all of this mean?” I asked, smiling at Reid.

  “Those are the stops we’d make along our road trip every year out to Michigan. And no matter how late in June we left, we were always at the cottage for the Fourth of July. Just old family memories,” he explained nostalgically. “There’s one more thing, in the glove box.”

  “Tell me no one else is along for this ride,” I replied, only half-sarcastically.

  “No, nothing creepy. Every time we’d go on a road trip my parents would make a scavenger hunt for us. It was probably something for them just to keep us busy so we wouldn’t annoy them and whine about the drive. But honestly we loved it. It was different every time, like “take pictures of at least five different out of state license plates,” or “eat a food you’ve never tried before,” stuff like that. It kept things interesting. So naturally, my brother made me one of those for this trip as well.”

  We ate our taquitos and snacks and I eyed him suspiciously. This was quite the good plan. It seemed so well thought out by his brother, but also a little melancholy because these were things they did every year together. Now it was just Reid on his own. That had to eat at him.

  “How long ago did it happen? Your brother…” I asked, not sure how to properly phrase my question.

  “Back in April. My parents got a call with the news. I was there later when someone came to the house. My brother was in a helicopter that was shot down. There weren’t many details, which was hard on my mom. It took awhile for them to send his remains back to the States. Then more time passed while my mom made all the arrangements.” His voice was soft and I could hear the emotions in his tone.

  “I can’t imagine,” I said sympathetically. I really had no words. I never experienced a loss of that magnitude.

  “I told my mom about the letters. She was so distraught though, she completely disregarded them. I tried to get her to read them, but she refused. She didn’t handle things well,” he explained.

  “So what changed her mind?” I inquired.

  “Nothing. That’s the problem. My dad seemed more on board with the whole thing, or he at least humored the idea, but my mom wanted Preston close. She couldn’t even send his ashes to the mausoleum.”

  I sat next to him, silent, letting him speak. I wondered who he talked to this about before me, if anyone.

  “I didn’t know what to do. But it weighed on me. I knew what my brother ultimately wanted. So after his memorial service I just took the urn and his car and I left. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do, for her sake, but it’s what he wanted,” he repeated softly.

  I reached out and put a sympathetic hand on his arm. I couldn’t even pretend to know what I would’ve done in his shoes. He smiled at me and he looked comforted by talking about it.

  “I didn’t think she’d call the cops though,” he said, shaking his head.

  “How’d that conversation go?” I asked, referring to the phone call he made just minutes ago.

  “I didn’t answer their calls for the first couple days. I guess I didn’t want to hear them talk me out of it. Apparently that freaked her out, she thought maybe something happened to me. But the cops wouldn’t let her report it as a missing person’s case, since they knew I left on purpose. So she reported his car stolen. Worse than that though, she told them I stole the remains of a fallen soldier. That got their attention,” he said with a sarcastic tone. “Apparently it was on the news and everything.”

  “The waitress at that diner… She said she recognized you from TV,” I replied, piecing it together.

  “Yeah, I had no idea it had gotten that far. I mean, I knew my parents would be upset, but I didn’t think it would get so blown out of proportion.”

  “So wait,” I said, rummaging back through the papers in my lap. “When we were rafting, we pulled up to that resting place. What’s the tepee reference?” I was a little confused.

  “So one time we stopped there, my brother and I were pretty little. Preston was probably around ten, so I was around seven. We stopped for a swim and Preston had to take a leak, so we went into those woods back there. A few minutes back into the woods there was a random tepee made out of trees and sticks and a couple old sheets.”

  “Oh my gosh, I feel awful,” I said, covering my mouth with an embarrassed hand. “I thought you left me there to go smoke weed.”

  Reid laughed, and I did as well. I definitely read that situation all wrong.

  “Nope, I had a handful of ashes in a plastic bag so they wouldn’t get wet,” he said, continuing to laugh. “You really thought I was leaving you for a joint?”

  “I had known you for like twenty-seven minutes at that point. I wasn’t going to say anything,” I admitted.

  “Well I just went to find the tepee. I don’t know, I just thought you would find it weird or creepy or something, so I didn’t want to tell you what I was doing. I still didn’t believe you at that point that you were actually coming with me.”

  I smiled back at him and gave him a slight shrug. “I still haven’t thought any of this through,” I stated, realizing just how random all of this was.

  “Well I went back to the tepee spot. The last time I saw it, the sheets were gone but the trees and sticks were still up. It looked the same.” The look in his eyes told me he had such fond memories with his brother. “When we first found it, we climbed inside and hid behind the sheets. Our parents kept calling out for us, walking all over the woods, and my brother urged me not to speak up. We would only drum on the tree stumps inside the tepee. It took them forever to find us. My mom was so angry,” he reminisced.

  “So you’ve been the reason for all her stress and anxiety all this time,” I countered.

  “Yeah, but no matter how mad she ever got, she was a good sport about it later. We laughed so hard about it at dinner that night. My brother and I thought it was the funniest thing. It was one of the best days.”

  I studied his face as he spoke. Any sadness he had in his eyes earlier when talking about his brother, it was completely gone now. His eyes looked joyful to me, and it made perfect sense to me in that moment why he was making this trip. I grabbed two Vitamin Waters out of the plastic bag at our feet and handed one to him. I held my drink up towards him.

  “Here’s to more best days.”

  He winked at me and I blushed.

  I believed him.

  CHAPTER 8

  We finished up our drinks and Reid explained the rest of the afternoon to me. There was a bridge just a few miles off the highway from where we were called the Charlton Bridge nestled between two mountains. He showed me a picture of it from a brochure he had in the car. The drive to it was only a few minutes, and it looked exactly like the photos in the pamphlet. The mountains were huge on either side, and there was a beautiful river flowing between them directly below the bridge. The water was a perfect aqua color and it looked refreshing.

  Reid pulled the car up into a dirt lot next to the entrance of the bridge. There were groups of people gathered around, taking pictures of the breathtaking view. The sun was on its way down and cast amazing streaks of orange out in the distance. It was a perfectly calm evening.

  “So that’s the spot,” Reid said, pointing towards the middle section of the large concrete bridge. “They suit you up and then you just dive right off the side of the bridge. Your hands graze the water at the bottom and then it swings you b
ack up pretty high. It’s such an amazing feeling.” He looked giddy as he spoke.

  “And you and your brother did this before? More than once?” I asked skeptically. Just looking at Reid’s athletic, somewhat preppy physique, I wouldn’t exactly peg him as an adrenaline junkie.

  “It started out as a pride thing,” he explained, slightly shrugging as he put his hands in his pockets. “My brother had just enlisted with the Marines, and it was our last road trip before he left. We’d heard about the bridge the summer before while we were at some restaurant nearby. He razzed me about it and said I was too big of a baby to ever do something like that. Honestly he was probably right. But then something about that next summer, I don’t know - it felt different. He was going away and I knew our road trips wouldn’t be the same with him gone, even if he ever made it back for one. So I told him I wanted to do it. It was probably some macho ‘I’m a man like you’ move, I don’t know. I was barely fifteen, so I was still stupid enough not to think through all my decisions.”

  “And I imagine no one was talking you out of it?”

  “Well my mom wasn’t exactly excited about it, but she probably knew why I was doing it. She even lied on the release for me, saying I was sixteen. I couldn’t believe she did that,” he continued, shaking his head with a smile. “So there we were, standing on this bridge, listening to some guy explain the equipment to us. I was so nervous I wanted to just back out of the whole thing. But then I looked over at my brother, and he looked terrified. So I knew at that point I had to do it.”

  “Was that the last time?” I asked softly. He was smiling so big from the memory of it, but I imagined reminiscing like this after losing someone close to him had to be hard.