Random Acts

by Franklin Horton

  “I’ve always been honest with you, Amanda. In all your visits over the last five years you never mentioned that your mother told you things,” Cole said.

  “She told me not to bring it up to you. She said you’d just get mad.”

  “Does that seem like something I’d do?” Cole said. “Have you ever known me to get mad at you for asking things?”

  “I don’t know,” Amanda wailed. “I feel like I barely know you.”

  Cole got up from the bed and walked out of the room. He didn’t know how to handle this. He had no idea what his ex-wife had told Amanda but he needed to know. At the same time, he didn’t want to disparage Christina while Amanda was in this state.

  He went to the kitchen and picked up his phone from the counter. He dialed Larry, his partner.

  “What’s up, my brother?”

  Cole had no idea how Larry could be so perky in the morning. There wasn’t enough caffeine in the world to make Cole that lively.

  “I don’t think I’m going to make it in to work,” Cole said.

  “Everything okay?” Larry asked, picking up on Cole’s hushed tone.

  “Not really,” Cole said. “Amanda’s not adjusting too well to the change. She’s a little wound up right now. I’m kind of afraid to leave her alone.”

  “Do what you need to, man. I can cover this.”

  “I hate to leave you a man short.”

  “Family first,” Larry said. “Building kick-ass houses second.”

  Cole smiled. “Appreciate it.”

  “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “I will. As far as I know, I’ll be in tomorrow if I can get her settled.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Thanks. I’ll need it.”

  Amanda laid in bed all morning, crying until the sobbing became an exhausted wailing. She truly felt as if the rug had been pulled from beneath her and she’d lost her bearings. She pulled her phone from the nightstand and opened it. There were dozens of texts and social media notifications. She thumbed through them, then went to the messaging app. She’d texted her friend Raven late into the night. A message this early would probably wake her but she needed her. Raven was her co-pilot, her best friend, and her partner in crime.

  Amanda: This sucks.

  When there was no immediate response, she decided her friend must have slept through it. At least someone was getting to enjoy summer vacation. She dropped the phone beside her and rolled over to look at the picture on her nightstand. It was her and her mother together, taken at a ski resort last winter. There was nothing about the picture that hinted they wouldn’t be happy forever. There was nothing about her mother that hinted she would be killed in a car wreck coming home from work.

  Her phone dinged a text notification.

  Raven: You okay?

  Amanda: No. The drive yesterday sucked. It was so awkward. Then dad gets me up at 5 AM and says I have to go build houses with him today.

  Raven: No way.

  Amanda: Seriously!

  Raven: What happened?

  Amanda: I think I kind of yelled at him. I may have cussed at him too.

  Raven: Really?

  Amanda: Yeah.

  Raven: What did he do?

  Amanda: He told me I could stay home and he took the day off work to stay with me.

  Raven: That’s all?

  Amanda: Yeah.

  Raven: My parents would have beat my ass.

  Amanda: I thought my dad might too. My mom said he had a bad temper.

  Raven: Doesn’t sound like it. He sounds kind of chill.

  Amanda: My mom said he was a dick. She said he never wanted a family. She said he wished he wasn’t married and didn’t have me.

  Raven: If that’s true, why is he so patient with you?

  Amanda: Guilt I guess.

  Raven: I’m sorry.

  Amanda: About what?

  Raven: All of it. The whole shitty deal.

  * * *

  Amanda felt better after talking to Raven. In fact, she felt a little bad about blowing up on her father. During the drive yesterday, she wondered how their life would have been if her parents had stayed together. If they were still married and her mom lived in North Carolina, she might still be alive. She decided that part of this whole thing, her mom’s death and what she was going through now, was her dad’s fault. Part of why she’d been so angry this morning was due to thinking about that. The other part was because she was a teenager who’d been forced awake at five A.M.

  Amanda groaned and rubbed a hand across her face. She stood and opened the curtains, letting light spill into the room. The mountains were beautiful outside the window but they didn’t keep her attention for long. She’d had a hard time falling asleep last night and she still felt pretty thick-headed. It seemed about the time she finally fell asleep, her dad was there shaking her awake.

  She went to the pile of boxes and luggage, digging through until she found a tank top and a pair of denim shorts. She grabbed her phone and slid it in the pocket of her shorts. Leaving the room, she passed by her dresser and caught a glimpse of her reflection. She stopped and looked herself in the eyes. She wondered how she could look the same when absolutely everything in her life felt so different.

  She pulled herself away from the mirror and went downstairs. She didn’t know how she was going to make it through the day if she kept thinking like that all the time. She needed to lighten up. She was tired of being broadsided by random thoughts of her mother and her old life. Then she felt a wave of guilt, as if it was disrespectful to try to push her mother’s death from her mind.

  She found her dad in the kitchen pouring another cup of coffee. He looked at her, then back to his pot.

  "You drink coffee?" he asked.

  "I like lattes and cappuccinos. From Starbucks."

  Cole gave a little chuckle and raised an eyebrow. "Well, you’re shit out of luck, little girl. Starbucks is probably an hour away. Besides, that's not coffee. That's coffee-flavored candy. We’ll have to see if we can transition you to the real stuff."

  Amanda curled her lip in disgust at the idea of it. She opened the refrigerator and stared inside. In a minute she shut the door back. "Don’t you keep anything to eat around this place?”

  Cole shrugged. "I don't cook many meals. I eat out a lot. But we’ll run by the store later and pick up some things you like."

  "I'm thirsty now." Amanda realized she was whining a little but she was okay with that fact. If he was going to make her get up at the crack of dawn, then he could damn well listen to her whine.

  Cole pointed to the sink. “What are you? Two years old? You know where the glasses are. Help yourself."

  She made a face. "Tap water? Really?"

  Cole gave his daughter a withering stare. "I don't know what they've done to you in Virginia but we’re going to start setting it right. Here in God’s country our well water comes straight out of the ground beneath this mountain. It’s good stuff. In fact, people bottle our water and sell it in places like Virginia."

  "I've seen you drink bottled water."

  "Yeah, I'll bring it out on the job site where there isn't a sink with a faucet. I take it on fishing and camping trips where, again, there’s no sink with a faucet. But by God, if there's a sink with a faucet I drink the free stuff like Americans did for decades."

  Amanda didn’t respond to him.

  "Listen, I’m just giving you a hard time, Amanda. We can go to town and pick you up some breakfast. We can grab anything you want. I can tell you one thing, you’re going to have to be a whole lot less finicky to survive life in my house. This is not a frappa-crappa-cinno household. This is a by-God Maxwell House household.”

  “I’m too tired to argue,” Amanda said. “And too weak from thirst.”

  “Then get some shoes and get in the truck,” Cole said. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  Amanda checked her phone while she waited on her dad. It was an essential part of her morning, just like m
any other kids her age. She wanted to see if she’d missed any text messages or social media notifications since last checking her phone. She probably used a half-dozen social media sites on a regular basis with each offering features the others didn’t have.

  There were a lot of messages from her friends. They told her they missed her, asked how she was doing, and were already asking when she could come back to visit. She had no idea when that might be. There were pictures she was tagged in, pictures of her best friends hanging out and doing the things she’d be doing if she was back home. Back at her old home, with her old friends, in her old life. She felt the bitterness returning and tried to head it off.

  She turned her camera to selfie mode and took a picture of her in her dad’s truck. She added the description: “First day of my new life. Heading to Hooterville for eats. Fucking sucks.”

  Let the world choke on that.

  They drove mostly in silence. Cole pointed out occasional landmarks but Amanda remembered many of them from her childhood and her regular visits with her dad. Instead of going directly to the grocery store, Cole pulled his Jeep Wrangler into the parking lot of a mom and pop diner.

  “What’s this?” Amanda asked.

  Cole opened his door. “We’re going to get a little food into you and then we’re going to talk.”

  “Can’t we just go to the store?”

  “Nope,” Cole said. “You’ll feel better after you eat. You just don’t realize it because you’re too hungry. I know because I get like that too.”

  Cole slid out and shut the door behind him. He walked to the front of the Wrangler and stopped to look at Amanda. She hadn’t budged. He waved an arm at her. She sighed and got out of the Jeep.

  “This place any good?” she asked, looking at it uncertainly.

  “Oh yeah,” Cole said.

  He opened the door and held it for her. She walked inside and stopped, waiting on him. The breakfast rush was over and the lunch rush was still an hour away. A smiling waitress approached and led them to a booth.

  “You eat here a lot?” Amanda asked.

  Cole shrugged. “I guess.”

  The waitress returned with their drink order. Amanda had a soft drink and Cole took another coffee.

  “What you having?” the waitress asked Amanda.

  Amanda stared at the menu. “Give me one second.”

  The waitress turned her attention to Cole. “You ready?”

  “I’ll have biscuits and gravy with sausage.”

  “I haven’t had biscuits and gravy in a long time,” Amanda said.

  “Go for it,” Cole encouraged.

  “I’ll have the same,” Amanda said.

  The waitress took their menus and disappeared. Amanda immediately pulled out her phone and unlocked the screen.

  “Can you leave that off for a second?” Cole asked.

  Amanda cut him a look, then complied.

  “You’re practically an adult so I’m going to talk to you like an adult,” Cole said.

  “Okay…”

  “I strongly believe it’s not healthy for you to wander around the house all day by yourself. It’s easy to go to some really dark places. I know. After your mom and I split up, work was the only thing that saved me. It got pretty bad.”

  She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “I guess you didn’t want it as bad as you thought, huh?”

  Cole frowned at her. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about but I’m not going to get into that with you. What happened between your mother and I should stay between she and I.”

  “It wasn’t just about you and her. It was also about me. Did you forget that?”

  Cole shook his head. “No, I never forgot that.”

  “Whatever.”

  “The point I’m trying to make is that we have to make this work. I want you to go to the job with me tomorrow. I can’t make you work but I think it would make you feel better if you did.”

  Amanda looked doubtful. “Not the future I was hoping for, Dad.”

  “We don’t always get what we want, Amanda.”

  She picked up her phone and began doing something. He couldn’t tell if she was actually doing anything or just trying to avoid talking to him. He let it go for now. Maybe the food would help. He probably should have waited until she ate to even bring anything up.

  “You also don’t have enough hot water,” she announced. “I ran out taking my shower.”

  “That I can do something about. I’ve been needing to replace the water heater for a while. I’ve been putting it off.”

  “I can’t be expected to take cold showers.”

  “I’ll replace it as soon as possible.”

  Amanda went back to her phone, apparently satisfied for now. Cole looked out the window and soon the waitress returned with their orders.

  “It smells good,” Amanda said.

  They both dug in.

  “You can’t eat like this every day but it’s a good treat,” Cole said.

  “It’s really good.”

  “Their meatloaf is good too. The pot roast. A couple of other things.”

  Amanda nodded, not taking the time to respond. Soon her plate was completely clean.

  “Need something else?” Cole asked.

  Amanda shook her head. “Couldn’t eat another bite.”

  “Me neither.”

  “I do feel a little better. I guess I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

  “It happens.”

  “I’ll give it a shot,” Amanda said.

  “What?”

  “Coming with you to work. I’ve already seen what happens when I don’t have anything to do. The mind goes to some really bad places. You just can’t steer away from it.”

  “I know.”

  “Do we really have to get up at five A.M.?”

  Cole nodded. “The day starts early.”

  “No promises, but I’ll give it a shot.”

  “That’s all I ask,” Cole said. “Now let’s go buy you some groceries.”

  Amanda groaned. “The idea of food kind of makes me sick right now. I’m so full.”

  “Best time to shop,” Cole said. “You won’t buy a lot of crap.”

  4

  Victor Hesse sat in a threadbare recliner in the windowless basement of his mother's house. He was eating unnaturally uniform potato chips from a can and watching videos on his phone. The room smelled of mildew, body odor, and unwashed laundry. This was exactly how Victor spent most of his time if he was not playing video games or working. He had grown up in this house, though his bedroom had originally been upstairs. When he graduated high school a few years ago, he’d informed his mother Clara that he was a man now and needed a space of his own. It hadn’t gone as intended.

  “It’ll be good for you, having to stand on your own two feet,” she’d said. “You’ll have to learn some responsibility. When you moving out?”

  Victor hadn’t been prepared for this…eagerness.

  “I wasn’t planning on moving out. I was planning on moving to the basement.”

  “You won’t learn a damn thing living in the basement,” she said indignantly. “Your late father would shit a brick if he knew you were going to turn out to be one of those kinds of sons, the kind who lives in their mother’s basement.”

  “I don’t make enough money to move out,” Victor said.

  “Then get a real job! Selling video games to other losers who live in their mommy’s basements isn’t a job. Selling insurance, welding, embalming—now those are jobs. Selling games? I’m ashamed to even tell the other Methodist ladies what you do.”

  “Mom, you’ve only got one life and you’ve got to let me do my thing. I have to be me. Life isn’t about work. It’s about everything else.”

  His mother had burst out laughing hysterically at that. In fact, she’d laughed so hard Diet Sprite came out her nose. “You think anyone in my day gave a tinker’s damn if I got to be me or not? Hell no! No one cared if I was happy, fulfil
led, or any of that shit. All anyone cared about was that you finished school, got your head out of your ass, and contributed to society by not being a bum or a layabout. That’s what you’re turning into—a layabout!”

  “I’m not a bum. I’m employed. I pay taxes.”

  “You’re under-employed,” his mother pointed out. “Your generation wants all this free shit but none of you pay enough in taxes to support it. You know who gets stuck with the bill? Me, peckerwood. You’re just one more bum in a generation of bums. Lord help us all.”

  Victor sighed. “Can I live in the basement or not?” he asked, hanging his head and pouting. “I didn’t come down here for a lecture.”

  His mother snatched a Salem 100 from a pack on the kitchen table and lit one. She wrapped her too red lips around the butt and regarded him through the smoke while he shifted uncomfortably. She was contemplating. Nothing was easy with her.

  “Okay, but I want fifty dollars a month for rent and food. You’re also going to do your own damn laundry. And I don’t want no sluts down there either.”

  “Jesus Christ, Mom!” Victor said. “You’d charge your own son fifty dollars a month?”

  “Sorry, did I say fifty? I meant seventy-five,” she said firmly. “And another word outta your pie-hole and it goes to a hundred.”

  Victor snarled but bit his tongue. He turned and walked off.

  “We have a deal?” she called after him.

  “Yes!” he bellowed.

  “Payable upon move-in!”

  Victor groaned in frustration.

  “And no sluts. Are we clear?”

  “No sluts,” Victor agreed as he stomped up the stairs to start packing.

  Clara snorted. “Who am I kidding? No girls, not even the sluts, are going to date a boy living in his mother’s basement.”

  Victor paid her the money before he moved the first box. If he didn’t, she’d complain non-stop. He scoured Craigslist for a couch, a small refrigerator, and a microwave. He brought down his flat-screen television, a recent Christmas gift, and plugged up his video game consoles. He set up his gaming computer with its fancy keyboard and expensive monitor.

  When he had his electronics situated, he hung his knife collection on the wall. Just handling them brought a smile to his face. They weren’t expensive knives, but brutal-looking zombie killers he bought at a local flea market. He had over a dozen and thought they were badass. Maybe one day he’d outlast his mom and the whole house would be his. If that happened, he’d hang knives and swords in every room.