Chasing Fireflies

by Paige P. Horne

  “We are here for you. Whatever you need,” I tell her.

  *

  I’d tell you I was a pro at driving the motorcycle, but I’d be lying. Cash is, though, so we head out of town with a blanket and a picnic basket. Cotton candy skies are above us as the sun decides to stretch its light and wake up for the day. It’s early morning, and the wind against my face is cool. I feel okay today. I haven’t been taking my medicine like I should, though, because I’m tired of how sleepy it makes me.

  *

  Cash slows the bike down and comes to a complete stop. I hop off first and remove my helmet. I run a hand through my hair and look out at the view. The sun shines brightly now, making a layer of gold flakes across the water. The blue diving board I jumped off of more times than I can count rests in the middle of the lake on a platform, and the sound of water lapping against the dock I remember being bigger is the only thing that can be heard. It’s peaceful out here, but it used to be full of splish-splashing and laughing kids, drunk teenagers, and late night bonfires. I look over at my husband and smile.

  “Wanna go for a dip?” he asks me. My grin widens, and I squeal when Cash takes off running and I do the same. He pulls his shirt up from behind his neck, and I grab mine from the bottom and toss it behind me. Our feet knock against the dock. He yells, “cannon ball” before he disappears into the water with a big splash. Jumping up, I toss my hands into the air and leap. It almost feels like flying until cold water touches my toes. The loud noise of our splash mutes, and then darkness and the rushing of water surround me as bubbles bubble up. A light feeling of weightlessness takes over me. My arms go limp, and my neck rests back. I hold my breath and enjoy this quick moment of being totally alone under a space so big. It’s tranquility and awe at the same time. I feel his hands under my arms before I am forced to the top. I let air rush into my lungs as Cash moves my hair out of my face.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Just shutting out the noise for a second.”

  Brown eyes and messy hair looks at me. He doesn’t understand. He wants to, but he just can’t. I splash him and grin as I take off back toward the dock.

  *

  We lie on the blanket, soaking up some rays and eating the fruit I packed.

  “You miss this place?” Cash asks me. I lean back on my arms and look around me.

  “I miss the moments we had here.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” he agrees.

  “Remember when Sky and Johnathan got pretend married out on the dock?”

  “Yep. She had on her mother’s old wedding dress, and they jumped into the water after. She was grounded for a month.” I laugh, remembering how brown the dress was when she got out of the water.

  “Over there is where I first kissed you,” he says.

  “And it was the best kiss I’d ever had.”

  “I hope you didn’t have many.”

  “Nope, that’s why it was the best.” I grin, nudging him. He rolls his eyes.

  “You planning on seeing your parents while we’re here?” I ask.

  He looks down and shakes his head. “Nah.” I look away and watch a flock of ducks fly over the lake. Cash and his parents haven’t spoken in a while. He doesn’t think I know, but I realize they weren’t too happy with his decision to marry me. I was too messed up for the sheriff’s boy. I am messed up, but we make it work.

  *

  After we let the sun dry us, we get back on the bike and drive down some roads that haven’t had our tires on them in more than a while. Sunlight does its best to shine through the woods, but the trees are thick. I wrap my arms around Cash’s waist, wishing I could kiss his neck, but these dang helmets are in the way. We head into town just to ride by the old grocery store parking lot where we all used to hang out. No cars are there now, but on the weekends and sometimes after school, it was packed and everyone walked from car to car talking and cutting up. Nothing else to do in a small town. We circle back and head toward what we now call home.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sara

  I sniff and a sneeze comes out worse than the one before. “Bless you,” Maci yells from somewhere I have no idea. It’s cleaning day at the library, and I’ve never seen so much dust.

  “When is the last time you did this?” I yell back.

  “Last summer.”

  I turn when I see her standing in the row I’m seated in. Her red hair is piled up, and like always she wears jeans and a blouse. She laughs at my makeshift facemask. It’s an old rag with loose strings, which just so happens to fit perfectly behind my ears.

  “Don’t laugh. I’m just trying to prevent a major sinus infection.”

  “Well, from the way you’ve been sneezing, I don’t think it’s working.”

  I remove it. “I think you’re right.” I sigh and run a hand through my hair. I hear the library door open, and Maci looks that way. Her eyes grow wide, and I see her swallow. I stand.

  “What the fuck is this?” I hear and walk closer to Maci and see Lucas. He looks from her to me and then back to her.

  “Lucas, I need you to leave.”

  “Leave?” he says. “I’m gone for two days working, and I come home to fucking divorce papers? Where is all of your shit, Maci?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” she says. I can see how tired of this she really is. He walks closer to her, but she doesn’t move. Either she isn’t scared or she just doesn’t give a shit anymore. I think it’s both. He looks mad, crazy in fact, and I can smell alcohol on him from here.

  He looks over at me. “You got something to do with this?”

  “Leave her out of it.” Maci turns to me. “Sara, go on home. I’ll call you in a little bit.”

  “No,” I say. “I’m not leaving you.”

  “You think you can protect her or something?”

  “I think that if you try anything, you’ll know we were there.”

  He laughs and shakes his head. Tossing the papers down, he gets in her face. “This isn’t over. You know I’m not letting you go.” His eyes search hers. Lucas reaches his hand up, and I see her flinch when he runs a finger down the side of her face to her neck. “I’m never letting you go.” He steps on the papers and turns to leave. Once the door shuts, Maci lets out a big breath of air I had no idea she was holding. She leans down and picks up the papers before looking over at me. Tears are in her eyes, and she glances back toward the door.

  “What happened?” she asks no one. “When did everything go to shit?”

  *

  I’m porch swinging with a beer between my legs, waiting for Cash to pull up. It’s hot out, but a good breeze blows, making it more bearable. I mindlessly pick at the label on my beer and wipe the condensation on my forehead from the bottle. I hear Cash’s truck, and I get up off the swing. He puts it in park, and I walk out to him.

  “Got one of those for me?” He smiles.

  “I’ve cleaned the fridge and filled it only with beer. Figure the drunkenness will take our mind off of our worries and the fact that we are starving.” I smile, and he laughs.

  “Who needs food anyway?”

  “Right?” I say, handing him my beer. He takes a sip, and we walk onto the porch. “Maci served Lucas the divorce papers.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He opens the door, and I walk in first.

  “Yeah, he came up to the library today.”

  Cash looks over at me as he removes his ball cap and hangs it by the door.

  “And?”

  “And he told her he wasn’t letting her go.”

  “Where is she?”

  “She’s staying at her mom’s house.”

  “She safe there?”

  “I guess.”

  “I talked to the chief about this earlier. He said Lucas used to be a standup guy. Played football in high school. Got into a little trouble like most teens, some fights here and there, but never acted like this.”

  “I’m scared to ask Maci, but I wonder if he had anything to do with them l
osing her child.”

  “That’s a good question,” he says. Cash’s new cell phone rings, and he slides it out of his pocket. “Drew?” His eyes lock on mine.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Yes, sir. Headed over there now.” He grabs his keys from the table and hangs up.

  “What is it, Cash?”

  “Maci wasn’t safe.”

  *

  Cash

  I pull up to Lucas’ house. Leaving my lights on, I hop out of my truck and call out to Lucas.

  “Lucas, it’s Cash. Just come on out of the house.”

  I hear a scream, but it’s muffled, and my heart jumps. Shit, that’s Maci. Lights come up behind me, and I see it’s the chief and Deputy Guzman.

  “Where is he, son?” Rogers asks once he exits his truck.

  “Inside, I’m guessing, and he has Maci with him. I heard her.”

  “He’s armed,” the chief says.

  “What’s he planning on doing here?” Guzman asks.

  “I don’t have a good feeling about this. Her mom called me, said he showed up over at their house with a gun. Said he’d shoot her right there if she didn’t come with him. He broke their front door.” Drew walks over to his truck, and I shake my head.

  “Jesus,” I say under my breath.

  The chief gets on his microphone. “Lucas, son. Just come on out here. We just wanna talk about this.” He turns to Guzman and me. “Williams, you go around back. Stay low. Guzman, you get to the side of the front porch.”

  I watch Guzman head to the side of the house, and once he is there, he creeps his way to the side of the porch. I quietly make my way around. I look at the chief before I disappear to the back, putting a hand over my gun.

  “Lucas, this is the chief. Now come on out here, boy. Let Maci go and let’s talk about this.”

  “I don’t want to fucking talk. There is nothing to talk about!” Lucas yells from inside the house. “You boys just go on home now.”

  I move through overgrown grass until I reach the back door.

  “Let Maci and me be. We’re just going to pack up some things and head on out of here. You won’t see us again.”

  As softly as I can, I turn the doorknob, and the door clicks open. From my memory of the house, it’s not directly out of the living room, so they shouldn’t hear me. I take a peek inside and hear Maci talking. “Lucas, please. What have you done? What happened to you?” she asks, and I know we need to hurry and get her out of this situation. I open the door more until I can slide inside, and I hear the chief again.

  “Lucas, we don’t want anyone to get hurt. Please, son, let Maci go and come on out of the house.”

  I look to my left and then to the right as I hear his footsteps going back and forth against the carpet. I tilt my head forward, trying to look into the living room. Maci comes into view and sees me. Her eyes go wide, and I put my finger over my lips. Her reaction goes unnoticed by Lucas, and I walk to the end of the hallway until I’m right at the edge. He paces back and forth with the gun in his hand. From here I can tell he is soaked with sweat and at least a bottle in. He puts the side of the gun to his forehead and taps it. The chief continues to talk, and Lucas pulls at his hair before he walks to the kitchen.

  Adrenaline pushes through my veins, and as Lucas turns his back on me, I run as fast as I can, knocking his gun out of his hand first and then slamming him face forward to the floor. He struggles, but he’s drunk and sloppy. His sharp elbow slams into my stomach, and I wince before my fist connects hard with his ribs. He hollers, and I smell the alcohol on him. I get one hand cuffed and then the other before I jump up and then yank him up, too. Maci cries, and I call out to the boys.

  “Why, Lucas?” Maci continues to sob. He shakes his head with a look of pure understanding. He knows he’s going away for a while. He knows he messed up.

  “I’m lost,” he says quietly. His face sobers, and he hangs his head as the chief and Guzman walk in.

  “I’ve got him,” Rogers says as he grabs him from the back and walks him out the door. I look over at Maci. Her face is in her hands, and she sniffs as she rubs her palms down, dropping her hands onto her lap. She looks up at me.

  “Are you okay?” I ask her.

  Her lips go straight, and she takes a shaky breath. “My other half just changed both of our lives without any regard of me. He turned into a person I’ve never met before. He pushed me around, spoke to me as though I was worthless. Not like his wife, not like the woman he has loved for years. Not like he is my other half. So, no, Cash, I’m not okay. I’m not going to be okay for a while.” She looks past me at the wall and stands. I watch her go into the kitchen, and I don’t blame her as she grabs the liquor bottle. She tosses it back and takes two big gulps without even a wince. She shakes her head. “One day I will be again, though. I will be okay again,” she says it as if she is trying to convince herself.

  When I walk out of the house, I’m more than positive, Maci will be okay. It may take a long time, but one day she’ll be able to breathe a little better than before. She’ll feel lighter, and the world won’t seem so shitty. One day.

  *

  Sara

  When I was no taller than a dog on four legs, my daddy taught me how to ride a bike. I remember this time so clearly, even though I was just five. He ran alongside me, helping me balance and making sure I didn’t fall. He said it would get easier the more I did it.

  “That’s with everything in life, Sara. The more you do it, the easier it will be.”

  I did learn to ride that bike, and every time I did it, the easier it got. I got a bigger bike, and eventually, I spread my arms out wide. Sometimes I’d even get brave and close my eyes. The breeze swept over my skin, tickling my tiny arm hairs and running its fingers through my wild dirty blonde curls. I’d laugh and pretend I was no longer on a bike, but a feather, traveling to some place only the wind knew.

  Unfortunately, though, my daddy was wrong. Not everything applies to that saying. Grief doesn’t get easier, nor do heartache and sickness. I’m sure there are plenty of other things that are also just as hard as the first time you do them. Take my illness, for example. The more it appears, the harder the lines on my husband’s face show. It never gets easier to handle. None of it.

  *

  You know that perfect moment right before darkness takes over the sky? There’s no sun in sight, but the sky is still lightly lit, a sweet blue. I place my feet up on the edge of the porch rail and lean my head back. Taking my first sip of the icy cold beer in my hand, I lick my lips when the taste of lime hits my tongue. The clouds roll in front of the moon, getting shifted along from the wind. The leaves in the big tree ruffle from the light breeze that moves in from the field, running over my body and giving me chills that make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. My thoughts are my own. No one is here to judge me. No one even knows I sit on my front porch but the fireflies that dance in our front yard. This is what life is about. Simple moments. Quiet pieces within an hour of the twenty-four. I wish I could put this moment in a bottle, and every time things get to be too much, I can open that bottle and once again feel like I do now. Content and simply happy.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cash

  The bathroom floor is covered in plastic sheets that already have tiny speckles of pale yellow paint on them. Music plays from the record player in the hallway, and with her paintbrush, Sara sings and laughs. She’s happy today. She’s been happy for a few days now. Her hair is growing out, and I’m glad. I miss her pretty long curls. I run my paintbrush along the crown molding and am careful not to get any white paint on her yellow.

  “Cash, will you slide that closer to me?”

  I do as she asks, placing the paint can closer to her. I feel cold paint touch my forehead, and she giggles.

  “Did you just put paint on me?” I ask.

  “Just a little.” She grins when I look up, and she taps her paintbrush on my nose. She laughs like it’s the funniest thing ever,
and I stare at her, open-mouthed.

  “You better hope that comes off.”

  “A little paint never hurt anyone,” she says before she turns her back to me and continues painting above the windowsill. She can hardly reach it, and her shirt rides up, revealing her tan skin. I dip my finger into the paint and run it from one side of her hip to the other. She sucks in air. “Cash!” She turns around and looks at me.

  “A little paint never hurt anyone. Remember, baby?” I say with a smug smile before I dip my finger again. She looks from my finger to my face.

  “And what do you think you’re gonna do with that?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know just yet. But I do think a little paint on your nose wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

  “Oh no, you don’t,” she says, dropping her brush into the tub. She holds her hands out in front of her. “Put the finger down, Cash.” I poke it at her. Some paint drops off my finger into the tub, landing right on her toe. I laugh.

  “Cash Williams, you put that finger down and let me out of here.” She’s all smiles, but trying to sound serious. I climb into the tub with her and watch as she backs up. She laughs and jumps around me, out of the tub, and exits the bathroom. I follow, chasing her down the stairs. She bolts out the door onto the porch and laughs as she stands in the yard.

  “What are you laughing at?” I ask.

  “Your yellow nose, duh,” she answers. I walk toward her. “Cash, I don’t want a yellow nose.”

  “Well, too bad. We are teammates, and if one teammate has a yellow nose, then the other should, too.”

  “I don’t think I wanna be your teammate then.”

  “This crushes me.” I put a hand over my heart.