by Layla Dorine
He tried to shake off the melancholy as he headed out to check the snares. It took some time to find them all, his direction sense in the woods wasn’t great. The last thing he expected to find in one was a large brown rabbit, not the typical kind one would find wild, but the kind that might have once been someone’s pet. Silky, caramel-colored fur reminded him of Nicky and he found himself petting the little corpse as tears rolled uninhibited down his cheeks. With trembling fingers, he released it from the snare, but he didn’t put it in the game bag until he reached the next line. Instead, he carried it cradled in his arms, regret making his heart feel heavy. Suddenly he found himself anxiously hoping that his grandmother wouldn’t be serving rabbit stew tonight.
In all, the snares yielded three more rabbits and a pair of squirrels, all of which he quickly and carefully skinned, gutted, and got packed away on ice. The skins he took to the shed, scraped and set up to dry, before heading inside to shower. He was only halfway done when his old man came knocking, telling him to hurry up. With a reluctant sigh, Terry turned off the water and dried off, dressing quickly with little regard for his appearance.
The glance in the mirror told him all he needed to see. Gone was the hair gel and careful spikes he’d loved to focus on, his hair had grown out too much for that. It was odd, seeing it touch his collar. It reminded him of Nicky’s hair and how much he missed running his fingers through it, the long, heavy strands falling like cool waves through his hands. He wondered if Nicky had cut it, as tangled as it had been the last time he’d seen it. Maybe, hopefully, he’d let someone get all of the tangles out for him.
“Terry! Let’s go!”
“I’m coming,” Terry bellowed back, wishing he could opt to stay home. Like with most things he wished, that wasn’t an option, so he quickly joined his dad for the walk to his grandparents’ place.
“Your granny said Jake was driving out tonight. It will be good to see him again.”
“I guess.”
“Hey, new beginnings. Remember? Leave the past in the past. If you’ve got something you need to apologize for, do it and move on. Your grandparents are getting up in years. I know they would love a chance to have all of their grandchildren in the same place without conflicts.”
“I’ll try,” Terry promised as he watched a herd of sheep being driven to their pen for the night. “But I can’t promise he’ll forgive me.”
A nod from his father told Terry he understood; then they were turning into his grandparents’ yard, a flock of chickens scattering out of their path as they headed for the door. One glance at the animated conversation on the porch and the unfamiliar blue car on the lawn was all Terry needed to see that his cousin had arrived already. Taking a deep breath, he resolved himself to being pleasant and went to hug his granny first, before turning his attention toward the vaguely familiar-looking face watching from the railing.
“Been a long time,” Jake said, holding out his hand.
Terry shook it, surprised at how much his cousin had grown.
“Come on inside now, boys. Supper’s ready and we’ve got a full house tonight.” His grandmother laughed as she herded them in.
She hadn’t been kidding. Terry saw his Uncle Craig already seated to his grandfather’s left and his Aunt Karen pouring coffee. None of the other cousins were there, but several other uncles and aunts lingered about, whose names he could hardly remember.
Savory scents filled the air, and Terry was grateful that none of them smelled like rabbit. It turned out that pheasant and duck were the main courses of the night, with carrots, parsnips, peas, potatoes, and gravy. Several conversations went on around him and it was all Terry could do to focus on the questions he was asked and the stories he was listening to. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt so self-conscious as when he was asked what he was doing these days.
Dessert was hot milk cake and pineapple upside down cake, both of which he usually loved, but tonight could barely choke down. He wished for some whiskey for his coffee and smiled when his aunt refilled his cup, knowing it didn’t reach his eyes, but what else could he do? He was trapped until it was time to go home, unless he wanted to risk offending anyone; particularly his Granny.
Still, he almost fled when she fixed him and Jake with her gaze and directed them toward the front porch while all the others headed to the back.
“Why don’t you boys stay and get reacquainted,” their Granny said in a tone that left no room to confuse it for a request.
What else could either say but: “Okay, Granny.”
Sitting on the front porch with his cousin was like being relegated to the children’s table at Thanksgiving. He could hear the older people around back, complaining about the weather turning cool so early in the season. Grandpa was smoking one of his cigars; Terry could tell by the whiff of cherry occasionally carried by the wind. Every now and again he could hear their joint laughter and wonder what was so funny. Nothing was very funny where he was sitting. He and Jake had hardly said two words to one another since hello, and Terry was wishing, more than ever, that he’d thought of a reason to stay home.
His cousin had changed. When they were kids his hair had always been cut in a super short buzz and, at times, Terry hadn’t even been sure of the color. Now he could see it was as dark as his own, and curly, his cousin sporting a shaggy surfer look. He wasn’t skinny anymore either. He was several inches taller than Terry’s five foot eleven and he had way more muscle than Terry did, even with all the wood chopping he’d done. There was no doubt in Terry’s mind that his cousin could knock him flat if he said the wrong thing, which was part of why he wasn’t saying anything. The other part was that he was ashamed of where his own life was, after hearing all about his cousin’s photography job over dinner.
Jake worked for a magazine in the city and spent a great deal of time taking photos of local events. What it seemed to mean was that he was always busy and got in at all kinds of parties and events, openings, galas, sports, and conventions, not to mention vineyards and restaurants, eating for free and sampling all kinds of food after he was done photographing. If Terry had still been racing, he’d have been able to compare all his trophies and wins to his cousin’s accomplishments. Now he silently watched the fireflies begin their nightly dance around the yard.
“I saw a few of your races,” his cousin interrupted. Apparently he was far more tired of the silence than Terry.
“I don’t race anymore,” Terry blurted, not really wanting to talk about the past he was so disconnected from.
“Might be for the best,” Jake said. “I never saw you place very high.”
And there it was, in those short, blunt words, Jake had summed up Terry’s final year in racing. It had been the source of his irritation and desperation. Especially when it seemed like Nicky was steadily getting better.
“Thanks,” Terry grumbled sarcastically.
“Hey, just telling it like it is. Sometimes people need to know when it’s time to move on.”
“Easy to say when everything in your life is so fucking perfect,” Terry muttered, having hoped Jake wouldn’t hear. He did though, and chuckled, making Terry wish he was still small enough to shove in a mud puddle, which got him thinking back to the fucked-up shit he’d done to land himself right where he was.
“My life has been far from perfect,” his cousin broke into his thoughts to say, “and I’ve had to work damn hard to get the job I’ve got right now. My folks never had the kind of money yours did, and it was no fun going from hand-me-down clothes and shoes to hand-me-down cameras. Nothing sucked worse than going to school with a new-to-you T-shirt on, only to have someone point out how it used to be theirs, and prove it by the initials still on the tag. When half the kids in my photography classes were showing off their new lenses and light meters, I was trying to Gorilla Tape my tripod back together. I still can’t afford half the gear guys I went to college with had when we were juniors, so don’t expect any pity from me.”
“I wasn
’t asking or expecting anything,” Terry said bitterly.
“Good.”
“Why the hell are you even sitting out here with me anyway?” Terry muttered.
“One: because Granny told me to; and two: because we haven’t seen each other in well over a decade and I was hoping you were less of a jerk than you used to be, but it’s clear some things just don’t change.”
Terry sighed and rested his chin on his palm. “Sorry about that by the way.”
“What?” Jake asked, momentarily confused.
“Being a jerk to you when we were kids, shoving you around and shit. I was a real asshole back then, so it’s not like I’m expecting us to suddenly be friends.”
“You were no bigger jerk than the kids I went to school with. I never really got used to it, but I guess I came to accept it. Besides, we’re not friends, we’re family, and that’s supposed to be different, or so Granny is always trying to tell me. I wasn’t trying to piss you off pointing out that changing professions was a good idea; sometimes it is.”
“How would you know?”
“I’ve seen it happen. Had a friend who worked for her first two years out of college in the office of probation and parole. Talk about a job with long hours, little pay, and very little thanks. She started getting burned out, cussed every Monday, drank a little each night, which started turning into more than a little. She had hoped to help people, but instead she ended up feeling more like a babysitter. Finally she gave it up. Actually, a bunch of us persuaded her to give it up. She’s much happier now that she’s working with the youth education program, helping match kids with careers and colleges. At least there she can see the good she does and hear about the success stories. I know it’s not exactly the same, but you can’t have been happy with all those losses.”
“They sucked,” Terry admitted. “Each one more than the one before.”
“Well, now you have a chance to find out what else you like to do. Who knows, you might find something you’re better at than racing.”
“Let’s hope so. The last thing I need is another failed career,” Terry said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.
“Well, I don’t have real advice to give, except to say you’d probably do better if you went into it with a positive attitude.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Terry relented. “So are all the places you take pictures at really so fancy?”
Jake laughed. “Not all of them, but yeah, a lot are. I really hated spending money on fancy clothes to impress the types of people who looked down on me all my life. I love what I do, but what I do gives me a view of the incredible waste some people are capable of. I mean, who needs silver-edged mirrors in a club, why not put the money to work helping people? I’ve got no problem with people owning a business and making a living. I just wish they didn’t have to be so wasteful about it. It seems like every new place that opens is gaudier than the last. It’s been a while since I could just wear jeans and a T-shirt to an event.”
“Sounds to me like you’ve got some experience hating a job after all,” Terry pointed out.
“Yeah, I guess that part of it I do,” Jake admitted.
“So why did you choose working for a magazine anyway? There’s a ton of other things you could be taking pictures of.”
“The money. Like I said, my folks were never as well off as yours. With that job I could help out with things, make sure my younger siblings actually had the stuff they needed in high school.”
“God, how old are they now? They were really small when I saw them last.”
“Gerald’s sixteen and a junior, really into art, painting especially, which ain’t cheap, and Jessie…he’s a freshman at Berkeley this year, wants to be an archaeologist. He never did get tired of watching Indiana Jones movies. Sending him places isn’t cheap, and it actually costs a great deal to get him equipment, not to mention there are the travel fees to get into a good field study class. Even as an intern it’s pricy. The different locales mean different clothes for different elements and durable shit too, especially the boots and gloves and hats to keep him from getting sunburned, and with his freckles he can’t afford getting burned.”
Terry chuckled. “No, I guess not. It’s really cool of you to help them out though. I mean, it’s not like you have to do it.”
“Of course I have to do it, they’re my siblings. If not me, then who else would help them? But I actually want to do it, which means I’ve tried not to let the glitz and glitter I see at work bother me. When they’re finished with school I’ll have plenty of time to find another job.”
“So what would you prefer to be taking pictures of?”
“Animals,” Jake said. “I’d rather spend my time in the woods or on safari, learn to scuba dive and take some underwater photos too. I always preferred them to people anyway. Not judgmental and they don’t care what you wear or where you live. Plus, after all the wild openings, galas, masquerade balls, and other craziness, the peace and solitude would be a welcome change.”
“Yeah, I’m about partied out myself,” Terry admitted. “My last boyfriend was kind of high maintenance, always wanted to go show off somewhere. Clubs and bars mostly. Anywhere with drinks and a dance floor. If I don’t see the inside of another club for the next three years it would be too soon.”
“Ugh, my ex-girlfriend was that way, always wanting to be seen places. I mean, one night I was supposed to be photographing the opening of the new sushi bar, one of those really upscale places that are all the rave, or so she tells me, and insists on going, only she doesn’t even like fish, used to say that the smell of it made her sick. But socially to be seen there meant something to her. Who knows? I’ll never understand it.”
“It sucks. I had an amazing boyfriend before him, but I fucked it all up.”
“At least you can say you had a good one,” Jake shot back. “I’ve had one shitty relationship after the next. I keep telling myself not to get involved with the first woman to show the least bit of interest in me and then, bam, I go out and do it again. For now I’m just going to stay single; at least until I can figure out why I seem to be such a magnet for selfish, drama-causing women.”
Terry let out a little bark of laughter.
“Not cool!” Jake commented.
“No, it’s just that I’ve pretty much sworn off relationships too. Guess we have something in common after all.”
“We probably have more than we realize. We should go fishing sometime, see what else we share.”
“I’ll be out here for the foreseeable future, so when you find the time, sure, we can go.”
“Here, stick your number in my phone,” Jake said, and passed his phone over. Terry did as requested as his cousin stood. “I better say my good-byes and get moving. Early morning bakery opening tomorrow.”
“Hey, at least you’ll get to start your day with some good pastries.”
“I hope. There’s never any guarantee that the food will actually be any good,” Jake pointed out. “They could be serving prune Danishes or something, and that isn’t the way I want to start my day.”
Terry’s nose wrinkled at the thought of how that might taste. “So what do you do when it sucks?”
“Eat it anyway. The last thing I can afford to do is hurt my reputation or insult anyone. We’re a trendy magazine focusing on activities and events happening around town. It’s not our place to offer opinions, thank god. You offend the wrong person and they can spread all kinds of things around about you, get you completely blackballed from working that kind of event again.”
“That sucks,” Terry said.
“Yeah, sometimes it really does,” Jake replied. “You know, it’s been really nice talking to you. I hope we can do it again. Maybe be the friends we didn’t get to be when we were kids.”
“I’d like that.”
Jake nodded. “I’d better go say good-bye to everyone.” With that he disappeared into the house, leaving Terry with his thoughts.
Jake waved to him
a short time later as he was getting into his car. Terry waved back and watched him drive away, wondering what his life might have been like if he’d kept coming here and learned to behave instead of always having his way. Maybe he’d still have Nicky, or maybe they’d never have met. As much as it hurt to lose him, Terry knew he’d never regret any of the time they’d spent together. Racing and Nicky had been the only joys he’d had.
Now you’re nothing. Terry could almost picture a sneering image of himself in his mind. Laughter trickled from the house moments later, reminding him that not everything was gone. As far as second chances went, at least he still had his family.
***
“Start with the cup. Reach out, grasp it, and move it to the other side of the line.”
Nicky glared at the table, the assembled objects, and the line, which, though only a foot in distance, might as well have been a mile with the way his day was going. His fingers felt clumsier than usual, bumping into the cup. Moving them took a ton of effort and willpower, and even then they didn’t move the way he wanted them to. A few digits jerked sporadically, and Nicky winced at the throbbing discomfort that shot through them. At least it wasn’t pain anymore. He settled his hand around a cup, the smooth plastic feeling odd against his palm. Nothing felt the way it used to.
Closing his fingers always seemed easier, mostly because they practically closed on their own. Carefully he lifted and moved the cup to the other side of the line, then went back to focusing on what was left. He could hear Raff cussing at another table. No doubt they would both need to unwind with a movie later, wishing alcohol was allowed. Even pain killers were strictly regulated as most of them were being weaned off the very shit that had been making their lives tolerable. Nicky moved the next piece, dropping it twice before he got it to its destination, and muttered a curse himself. It was a good thing damn near everything in this place was metal and plastic or the light bill alone would have been epic.