It was real! Tara closed her hand and clutched it to her heart. “Darryl gave it to me. He pressed it into my hand before I was pulled away.”
Hadley leaned in, looking at the rock. “I…guess a friend of yours must’ve brought it to you.”
“Darryl gave it to me right before I woke.”
“Honey.” Elliott stroked her forehead.
Tara’s brain couldn’t hold a thought. She closed her eyes. A jolt shot through her, and she woke and looked around the room. “My boys. Where are my boys?”
“Tara, they’re gone.”
Gone?
The word was too heavy to bear. She closed her eyes, and the idea of going to St. Simons Island whispered again. Inside her mountain of grief, a bit of hope took root.
* * *
Tara stood in the front yard, staring at the half-demolished cabin with a blue tarp stretched over the gaping hole in the roof. The remnants of the huge hemlock tree, cut down by the tree service earlier today, were spread across the property. The cabin that held so many memories—memories of more love than Tara had dared to hope for while growing up in foster care—was as broken and as useless as she was.
The boys’ voices echoed in her mind, calling to her, teasing her.
Why couldn’t God have taken her too?
Her head throbbed, and the earth beneath her feet felt like sand on a watery shore. The storm had hit six days ago. She’d awakened in the hospital four days ago. They’d buried her brothers yesterday. And every minute since she had awakened, she’d struggled to believe the tragedy had actually taken place. She hated sleeping because waking made it all new again. Each time as she began to wake, her mind and heart had to relearn the truth, and the shock started all over again.
Elliott and Hadley were with her, just as they had been with her through every step since she woke. Their husbands, Trent and Monroe, were both in the medical field, and they’d had to return to work today. Tara couldn’t have asked for the men to be more supportive or kind than they’d been, but today it was just the women and a baby. Hadley wore an Ergobaby carrier, and her three-month-old son, Shepard, was very content inside it.
It felt as though the funeral were still in progress. A sea of people had attended the graveside service, and the wake was packed. The news had spread across the state, news of her brothers’ young, promising lives lost, and news recounting the story of how the three of them had stuck together as an unconventional family. Maybe the news had traveled farther than North Carolina. Tara didn’t know and didn’t care. But it’d been an honor to behold a sea of people at the graveside service. There were so many friends from Sylva that the wake couldn’t be held at someone’s home. The small church she and the boys attended couldn’t hold that many people either, so it was held in the largest fellowship hall in Sylva. But something was wrong, weird wrong, as if she were imagining that they were gone.
“Are they really gone?” Her raw throat ached, and her voice came out no louder than a whisper. The reality felt impossible, beyond the ability of her mind and heart to accept it. What seemed far more real was that Sean and Darryl would walk up from the pond or return from a hike and assure her they were alive. They’d hug her and let her know that the misunderstanding was due to her head injury, that the lingering effects of the brain trauma were distorting the truth, and they were just fine.
She reached into her jeans pocket and felt Darryl’s rock. How had that been in her hand when she woke? She wouldn’t ask Hadley or Elliott again, because they would try to convince her that someone had put it in her hand. Her need to hold on to the hope that this rock was a gift from God—that she’d actually seen and talked to her brothers—was too strong to accept any other explanation. Nothing could protect her from the ongoing shock and grief, but the dreamlike vision kept her sane from one moment to the next.
Elliott slid her arm around Tara’s shoulders and squeezed, but she didn’t answer Tara’s question.
“If you hope to salvage things from the elements, we need to start going through the cabin, T.” Hadley held a large plastic bin with folded cardboard boxes and a box of black garbage bags.
Tara nodded.
They went up the steps and crossed the threshold. Memories of the day of the storm about knocked Tara off her feet. She willed herself to do what she’d come for. She tried not to pay attention to the broken windows or mutilated furniture and appliances. The three of them went into her small bedroom, and while her friends began sorting ruined from salvageable items, she saw a hundred tiny moments play out in front of her. The boys had been so young. They’d come to her room needing something, especially Darryl at five years old, until she finally felt like a mom.
She meandered into Darryl’s room. Sean slept in the loft, and the stairs had been too badly damaged to use them, but half of his things were on this level. The room had water damage, and small branches of the tree had scattered items around. She picked up every picture she could find and held it close.
She wanted to help Hadley and Elliott, but all she could do was stand and field questions as the three of them went through her brothers’ personal items. Tears obscured her vision and made her throat tight and painful. When she couldn’t take one more minute of packing up Sean’s and Darryl’s lives—the life they’d shared—she went outside and stood in the yard, staring at the cabin. How could this be happening?
Shafts of sunlight came through the trees. The thick aroma of the fresh-cut hemlock tree filled the air, as did the songs of birds. Life was filled with mind twisters—amazing one minute, crashing in with unbearable pain the next.
But it was the power of one particular feeling that she couldn’t seem to tame. She was sure if she reached out just so—like a child standing on a porch and reaching through the rails to feel the pitter-patter of rain falling from the sky—that her brothers would grab her hands and say, We’re here, Tara! We never left. The tree falling has made your mind play a horrid trick on you.
“Tara,”—Elliott squeezed her shoulder—“it’s getting late.”
Tara blinked, and the daydreams of her brothers being alive were smothered by reality. The morning sun was gone, and the huge circle sat high in the sky. The baby was awake on a blanket in the yard. Last time Tara took note of him, he was asleep in a car seat next to Hadley as she sorted items. She could hardly recall how lunch tasted, but she remembered Hadley insisting she take a few bites.
Her friends had lives they needed to get back to. Hadley had two more children at home that her husband and in-laws were tending to while Hadley tried to do the impossible—give Tara the strength to cope. Elliott was seven months pregnant with her first child and worked full-time as a nurse practitioner. They had homes filled with love and needs and people waiting for them to return. She remembered those days as if she, as Sean had joked, were a desperate old mom who needed her kids.
“Yeah,” Tara whispered. The roof was demolished, and there was no staying here, not that she could cope with sleeping here just yet. She clutched the rock in her hand. “I need to get my suitcase.”
“It’s here.” Elliott held up a suitcase and pointed at Hadley’s SUV, which was filled with boxes of things important to Tara.
“Thank you.” Tara could barely whisper. How did anyone survive times like this without loved ones?
“I think that’s it, T.” Hadley passed her a picture that’d been hanging on the wall in the kitchen.
Tara squeezed the broken frame, and then they all headed to the car.
She couldn’t live like this—lost, stuck in limbo, dependent on her friends to take care of her as if she were a child.
St. Simons Island. The thought drifted into her brain like fog rising from the valley. The trip had meant so much to Sean and Darryl. They’d saved their hard-earned money to buy her a ticket, and the plane would leave Asheville airport in five hours.
Hadley an
d Elliott were in the front seats talking quietly. The baby had fussed when Hadley moved him into his car seat, but he’d settled down after a few minutes.
“Guys?”
Hadley turned down the blasting AC. “Yeah?”
“I…I need to get away for a while.”
“You’re welcome to stay with me indefinitely.” Elliott rubbed her protruding belly. “It’d be wonderful having extra hands when the baby is born in August. I…I think it’ll be a bit healing to hold new life.”
“Yeah, I look forward to that, but first I need to go to St. Simons. Sean and Darryl were so excited at the prospect.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Hadley said. “I volunteered to help at nature camp for my older two children starting tomorrow, but baby Shepard and I could get away for four or five days sometime toward the end of next month.”
“I can buy a plane ticket easy enough. I have my clothes. Just drop me off at the airport.”
“What? No.” Hadley removed her sunglasses, staring at Tara from the rearview mirror.
Elliott was doing her best to turn and face Tara in the back seat, despite her expanded abdomen. “Tara, honey, you need time to heal from the head injury.”
“We saw the doctor this morning. She says I’m healing fine.”
“But we didn’t ask about traveling, and you’re clearly still addled. If you could see yourself through our eyes, you’d be concerned too.”
“So I’m confused. Half of the population in the US travels in that state of mind all the time.”
“This is different, Tara.”
“You two quit high school and took off with no money and no support system. I didn’t like your plan, but I helped because I trusted that you knew what was best for you. And today you have masters’ degrees and families.”
“It’s just not a good idea.” Hadley squeezed the steering wheel until her knuckles were white. “If the grief and brain trauma weren’t enough stacked against you, you’re on powerful medication that can also mess with your mind.”
“I’m fine. I have my debit and credit cards, a cell phone, and luggage. Even on this medication I’m far better off than you two were. I can do this. I’ll purchase another plane ticket.”
“Actually you wouldn’t have to buy a ticket.” Elliott shrugged.
“You didn’t cancel my reservation?”
“It was on my to-do list, but I forgot about it until just now.”
“See,”—Tara looked out her window—“it’s settled.”
“No, it’s not.” Hadley slowed to stop at a red light. “We can’t let you do this. You don’t even sound like yourself, and your ability to know where you are and what’s going on changes from one hour to the next.”
“I need to do this. It was important to Sean and Darryl, and we spent two years planning it. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful for what you’ve done for me, but I have the right to do this. Head injury or not, I’m a competent adult, and you’re not my legal guardians.”
Hadley’s shoulders slumped. “I guess we could get to her quickly if need be. It’s a six-hour drive.”
Elliott looked over her shoulder again, meeting Tara’s eyes. “You’ll call us every single day so we can hear your voice?”
“And text.” Without taking her eyes off the road, Hadley tapped on her phone, which was sitting on the car’s center console.
How was it possible for this conversation to sound so normal when Tara felt detached from her body?
Her friends drove in silence, clearly uncomfortable with the plan. But Tara needed this, and they’d have to get over their hang-ups. Legally they couldn’t stop her.
Hadley let out a big sigh as she pulled onto the freeway that led toward the airport. “Pull up your ticket on your phone and check in. We’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
* * *
Tara’s ears rang, and her head swam with dizziness, but her heart felt just as shattered as it had before boarding the first plane. After a two-hour layover in the Atlanta airport, she was finally walking down the Jetway to board the plane for the second leg of the flight. She hadn’t planned to drive, because none of them—Sean, Darryl, or her—wanted two vehicles to deal with on the island. Tears filled her eyes. They’d looked forward to riding in the same car for the road trip back home after the vacation. She moved to her window seat and stared out. The cloudless sky was a dusky blue as the day drew to a close. She longed for the boys to be there as she arrived, just as they’d planned.
She dug through her purse, unzipped the safe pocket, and clutched Darryl’s rock. Holding it securely, she closed her eyes, and soon she could hear his voice. A flight attendant talked of safety, and Tara wanted to be respectful and listen, but the boys called to her, and she relaxed into a world where her grief didn’t follow.
Sean stood outside the driver’s door of his car. “You’re sure we should go?” He pointed at Tara’s head. “That was a lot to go through.”
She touched the stitches starting near her temple at the hairline and going back toward the crown. “I’m fine.” The cabin had a blue tarp stretched across the roof and nailed in place. They’d have to hire a contractor to rebuild the rafters and replace the roof. “We survived, thanks to your answering the phone and listening to me.”
“Uh, yeah.” Darryl went to the trunk, toting his suitcase. “We’re all fine. Some of us more than others.”
Sean hugged her. “We’ll see you next week. Text us when your plane lands, and we’ll pick you up at the airport.”
His arms felt warm, and it seemed as if she’d been aching to hug him.
“Enough gushy stuff,” Darryl fussed while taking his turn hugging her. “We’ll meet you at the airport in a week…unless me and the bro are having so much fun we forget what day it is.”
“Me and the bro.” Sean rolled his eyes. “He was named valedictorian?” Sean winked. “Text us. We’ll come get you.”
They got into their car and waved, gravel crunching under their tires as the vehicle crept down the long driveway.
The plane jolted, and Tara woke. Her head throbbed. Was it time to take another Vicodin? It was dark out the window, but clearly they’d just landed. Sean would be ecstatic if they found some of her family roots while here, but that wouldn’t happen. Still, he’d temper his disappointment quickly enough, and they’d have a great week.
The flight attendant’s voice came through the speaker, okaying passengers to turn on their phones. “Welcome to Brunswick, Georgia, and the Golden Isles.” The woman finished her spiel, and everyone near Tara started moving around and getting their belongings.
Tara turned off Airplane mode and texted both brothers at the same time. She received an instant response from Darryl.
I’m on the island having fun. Catch me if you can. If you can’t, I’ll come find you soon.
She waited her turn to move into the aisle, and she fell in line behind the file of people. Despite her pounding head, she was excited to be here, thrilled to share this time with her brothers. She texted them both again and received the same instant response.
Hmm. Seemed like Darryl had set up the message to autoreply.
A woman behind her said, “Are they picking us up?”
Tara glanced back. The woman appeared to be in her seventies.
A man behind her, who looked to be about the woman’s age, smiled and responded, “I’m sure they will. I just haven’t heard back yet.”
Tara smiled and held up her phone. “We may have to hitchhike.”
The woman laughed. “Maybe so. I volunteer for you to catch a driver’s eye, and we’ll sneak into the vehicle behind you. St. Simons Island bound?”
“Yes.”
“It’s not far,” the man said. “Only fifteen miles, including crossing the causeway. We could walk it except my wife packed everything, including th
e kitchen sink, I think.”
The woman laughed. “I did not pack the sink.”
The man chuckled.
Tara put effort into looking and sounding normal, but the strange feeling wouldn’t let up. She felt disconnected from her body. But the doctor had said to expect to feel disoriented. Maybe that’s all it was—she was disoriented. Traveling made a person feel that way too, not to mention opioids, so maybe that’s why she felt far worse than just disjointed and weird.
Once they reached the doorway of the plane, there wasn’t a Jetway—only steps that were steep and narrow. She slung the strap of her purse around her neck, wearing it cross-body style, grasped the round metal handrails on each side of her, and slowly went down the steps. As soon as she stepped on the tarmac, she turned around, making sure the older woman had her footing. She then followed the crowd. While waiting on her bag to arrive at the luggage carousel, she called Sean again. When he didn’t pick up, she left a voice mail, and then she called Darryl, leaving him a voice message too.
Where were they? She got her bag and left the airport. Beyond the airport drop-off and pickup area, all she could see in the darkness were flat roads, flat horizon—everything flat.
Interesting.
But she saw no signs of her brothers.
A car pulled up to the curb, and a man and woman about her age got out. They welcomed the older gentleman and lady she’d spoken to earlier and put their suitcases in the trunk. The older man spoke to the young couple, and then he turned and approached her. “Did you reach your party?”
“No. It’s my younger brothers. I guess…” She wasn’t sure what had happened. They’d teased about forgetting her, but had they really done so? “…they forgot.”
Every word seemed enveloped in thick fog, and her thoughts were like rocks skipping across the water. Surely some sleep and finding her brothers would make her feel better.
“Young people can be like that. Our children dropped us off at a museum one time, and we had to take a taxi back.” He chuckled. “When they realize what they’ve done, you need to use this incident to gain sympathy for decades to come.”
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