Everything, Somewhere

by David Kummer

  I’d agreed with him at the time. Now, days later, the crowds had mostly dissipated, and the boats were long gone. The river ran empty once more, the shores littered with wrappers and beer cans and broken lawn chairs. A few people were loitering there, taking their time. The fireworks on Fourth of July had brought another crowd, but even those sparks in the sky were absent. Now, Little Rush had fallen asleep. Its normal state of being.

  We followed that sidewalk up toward Main Street, laughing at the stupidest of topics. It was a familiar trek by now. That empty factory building held countless beer cans and foggy memories. It was one of the few places two young men could really escape to. Leaving it behind, we usually wandered up to Allen’s Burgers where we’d sober up with greasy burgers and cold sodas.

  “Can’t believe we both have girls now, huh?” I slapped him on the back as we waited for a car to pass by. Then we crossed the street and continued walking. “Almost like we’re adults or some shit.”

  “I dunno.” Henry chuckled and avoided my eyes, keeping his gaze straight ahead. “Probably gonna dump Laurie inna bit. She’s at the Ohio, waiting for me, y’know?”

  I furrowed my eyebrows. “Did something happen?”

  “Nah, nothing much. Just… isn’t working out.”

  We arrived at Main Street, and he glanced across the road, where the Ohio Theater waited, lights shining and doors open. There was a line of people funneling inside. Somewhere in that mess, Laurie waited for him, unaware of the heartbreak he brought toward her. Things might not be the greatest between them, but both were gonna hurt if he did indeed dump her.

  “I don’t think I’m ever gettin’ married,” Henry mumbled as we strolled in that direction. He would cross the street for the theater, and I would carry on, but for the time we were side-by-side.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “No girls here for me.” Henry glanced over at the theater and deflated. “This’ll suck.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not sure Lucy’s the marrying type.”

  “What makes you say so?”

  We stood at the crosswalk now, waiting for the light to change. “She’s a bit… wild.” I couldn’t help but grin.

  He smirked and rolled his eyes. “Never thought you two would be an item, true. But you’re so vanilla it might wear off her crazy.”

  Henry left me at that point. I didn’t question if he really should dump Laurie, because I didn’t want to get involved. I had my own girlfriend to stress about. A friend of Laurie’s, in fact. Lucy would be around to pick me up in a while, so I maneuvered a few blocks down and took up residence at Allen’s Burgers.

  I moved into the restaurant, waving at the familiar faces. “Hey there,” I said, pushing my way to a seat at the counter. Once I took my spot, every stool had been filled, and there were a few people against the wall, waiting on to-go orders. For Allen’s, this was a pretty typical crowd. He could’ve used some more seating, I always thought.

  “Regular?” Allen slapped a hand on the counter in front of me and showed that wide, toothy grin.

  “And a milkshake,” I added, beaming. “For my lady.”

  * * *

  “Hey, babe.” I hopped into the passenger seat of Lucy’s car, putting the milkshake into her cupholder. “Got this for you.”

  “Ooh, nice. Thank you.” She leaned over and kissed me, then pulled back onto the road.

  Allen’s Burgers and the whole downtown quickly receded into the distance. Night had almost completely fallen. I didn’t ask questions because I’d learned better than that with Lucy. The whole night had been loosely planned up to this point, but now we were headed god-knows-where.

  She started up the winding road nearby that carried us to the hilltop. I hadn’t expected this since we rarely went on dates that weren’t downtown. Maybe the bowling alley, but it didn’t feel like that kind of night. As the trees sprinted by my window and Lucy’s small car fought its way along, I leaned against the headrest and closed my eyes.

  “You know Henry’s gonna dump Laurie tonight?” I started. “At the movies?”

  “Oh, yeah?” She chewed on her lip and laughed somewhat darkly. “Funny thing. Laurie’s gonna do the same to him.”

  “What? Why?” I glanced over, but her expression betrayed nothing.

  “Says he’s a dickhead sometimes. Can’t say I disagree.”

  “I think he’s just…” I let the sentence die off, because I didn’t know how to frame my thoughts. Henry was certainly lazy at times. Maybe an underachiever. Maybe even a dick. But I still wanted to be friends with the dude, at least while we both stuck around here.

  In Little Rush, long friendships were a novelty, and you couldn’t be too picky. For me, anyway.

  Lucy continued driving and led us out past Rush Road and into the country. We passed through a small neighborhood on the edge of town where all the wealthier people lived. Travelling on, into the darkness and uncertainty of the countryside, Lucy started to grin in the mischievous way I’d grown so fond of. I resisted, still, the urge to ask questions. Letting the journey spread out before me, a few feet at a time, just like the twisting country road in her headlights. Over hills so quickly that my stomach dropped, wincing anytime headlights passed. Lucy always drove pretty fast, but sometimes it scared me more than others. I guess that was true about a lot she did.

  At last, she swerved off the road and into a gravel driveway. I opened my mouth at this point, but she placed a finger to my lips. With the other hand, she navigated down the driveway and parked next to a massive, half-constructed house.

  It struck me at first how isolated we were. There were no homes for probably a mile in any direction, not even tilled fields. This house, three stories tall with a wrap-around porch, looked to be half-finished. There were walls undone, the structure mostly bare-bones. I didn’t know exactly what she had planned, but Lucy hopped out of her seat eagerly.

  “What’re we doing here?” I asked at last, standing next to the car still.

  She popped the trunk and dug around for a moment, pulling out a twelve-pack of beers and a bottle of vodka. Lucy held one in each hand and shrugged. Her eyes met mine, and I felt my knees go weak as she said, “Just having fun.”

  I carried the alcohol inside and found one room with the floor mostly done and a rough carpet laid down. While I unpacked the drinks, she brought in a large blanket, a lamp, and a bulky boombox radio. I stood against one wall, running a hand over the rough surface, looking around at the unfamiliar setting. I’d never been inside a house like this before. Not this size or this unfinished. But I tried to keep an open mind for whatever she had planned.

  Lucy plugged the lamp into a socket, which apparently had electricity running. She winked at me. “Lucky for us it’s on, I guess.” Then she spread out a blanket on the ground, started the music, and opened the vodka bottle.

  I started drinking right away, and it only took me a little bit to get sufficiently brave. Once I’d opened up a bit, Lucy convinced me to dance with her in the harsh light of that lamp, with an empty and creaking house around us. I grinned so wide, felt a rush of excitement with every turn of her body. The alcohol crept more and more into my bloodstream, and with each passing minute, Lucy grew more stunning. She had this glow about her, a liveliness that I’d never touched before. The kind of person who would take you to an empty house and dance.

  “Give me your pocket knife,” she said about an hour in. Both of us were sweating by that point since the house had no air conditioning. She’d taken off her shirt and now danced around in only jeans and a bra. When she extended a hand, I gave her my knife with some confusion.

  “Come on. Don’t be nervous.” She grabbed my hand and led me toward the nearest doorway. With a giggle, she opened it and started carving into the frame. I twitched, thinking about stopping her, but Lucy turned back and reassured me. “It’s okay. I won’t put our names or anything.”

  She worked for a moment, humming to herself. Then she handed me the kn
ife and stepped back. “Your turn.”

  In the doorframe, barely legible, she had cut the word: someday...

  I moved forward, knowing exactly what to put next.

  “I’m gonna live in a house this big, you know that?” She leaned against the wall while I struggled with the knife. Talking to herself, maybe, but also to me. “I’m gonna have a huge garden. And I’m gonna be one of those fucking rich people with their fucking cars. You know?”

  “Look.”

  I motioned for her to move closer. She did so and covered her mouth with a hand.

  someday… you’ll be mine

  “You’re a dork,” she said, now looking deep into my eyes and stepping closer. Lucy placed both arms around my neck and cocked her head. She chewed on her lip and blushed. “You know what you should do next?”

  “What’s that?” I felt my palms growing sweaty and my shoulders stiffen.

  Lucy pushed against me and leaned her back against the doorframe we’d just carved. “Fuck me on this wall.”

  * * *

  I thought about that night from time to time. Whenever I drove by the old house where it happened. It was falling apart now. In complete disrepair. But I can remember a time when it was finished and grand. An even better time when it was just bare bones and a carpet. All of that was gone, though. Just a dilapidated, forgotten frame left.

  There were no houses anywhere near it. It stood alone, and one day it’d be gone completely. For now, it was a monument. Or maybe a memorial. To everything we had and everything we’d lost.

  Laurie and Henry got together a few years later, once Henry started farming and decided to stick around Little Rush for the long haul. Things went better the second time around, since he’d smoothed out some of those rough edges. I stayed friends with the dude throughout everything. I remembered his brash and aggressive youth, but I also saw that he’d changed. Maybe that’s why Laurie took him back. Or maybe we were all just settling for the best available.

  Lucy and I started working soon after that incident at the house. She kept a job for a few years, but once the pizzeria made a profit, she quit to help me. First as a waitress, then a manager once we had enough help. We talked about buying that house, with the carved door frame and the gravel driveway, but decided it was too expensive. Too far from town. In the end, it just didn’t work. We settled for something easier.

  A few years later, she stopped working entirely. Once I hit it big with the stock market, bought up so many rental properties, she didn’t need to. We got a house in the real nice neighborhood, started a family, and she stayed home with Mason all those years. I don’t know if she ever regretted it. I always meant to ask her. Just slipped my mind. After a while, those conversations were impossible. Just have to let them die off.

  The old house stood out there for a long time, falling apart more and more as the decades passed. I wanted to visit, just once, but never did. I wanted to step in that room and dance around and smile. But never did.

  I wanted to own that house. We settled for something, and I told myself I’d stop settling. Start doing things that I wanted, that Lucy wanted, no matter the cost. But never did.

  2

  Willow

  Mason and I were sitting inside the cabin, watching reruns of Family Feud, when the truck pulled into the driveway. We were both seated on the couch, Mason in a tank top and myself in a nightgown still. The wooden interior of the cabin, the log walls, the large fan spinning overhead, it all gave off the sort of cozy vibe that made you reluctant to get dressed for the day. This had become a ritual of ours anytime we spent the night here. I’d wake up late, roll out of bed in the loft above, and descend the narrow staircase to this room. Mason often had breakfast waiting and the television on.

  Hudson’s truck came to a stop behind Mason’s car. When it appeared, Mason popped up from beside me and rushed to the front door. I watched him go, huffing, and jumped up from the couch to change into something less intimate. The front door swung shut behind Mason just as I ascended the stairs and went to rummage in my bag, which lay beside the untidy bed.

  A solitary candle burnt on the side table, masking the smell of smoke from the night before. Mason and I had stayed up late, smoking joints that he bought from some older kid in town. It still felt weird to be alone here, just the two of us, when so many nights before Hudson had joined. But he’d had that date to worry about, and now so much more. It had only been one night since his dinner with Layla, but what an eventful one.

  I dressed quickly and then hurried to the fridge for drinks. Through the kitchen window, I saw Mason leading Hudson around the house, toward the back porch. Their voices were too faint to make out the conversation, but it sounded casual, unimportant. I grabbed a few soda cans from the fridge and headed in the same direction, meeting them out back.

  “I planned on sleeping ‘til noon, just so you know,” Mason remarked as he took a seat on one side of the table. He winked at Hudson and extended his hand toward me. I filled it with a can.

  “Sorry,” Hudson said meekly, taking his own seat. He glanced over the forest hillside splaying out in broad daylight. He always did this whenever we came here. Looked toward that creek, as if it would supply answers. “I appreciate you… letting me come over.”

  He directed this at Mason. In fact, his eyes and words completely avoided me. If I hadn’t existed, the conversation so far would’ve been no different. This didn’t surprise me, though. Not after the text he’d sent me last night.

  Higher than I’d ever been in my life, alone in the darkened living room, I’d spent at least an hour on the floor. With the television playing music and my back against the soft carpet, I stared at the rotating fan high overhead. Only Hudson’s text broke my reverie. Mason, fast asleep in the bed upstairs, had no clue. He still didn’t. But Hudson knew. Even if he’d been drunk out of his mind, he remembered sending the text. I could tell from the way he avoided me, especially with his eyes. Oh, he remembered for sure. He’d probably read it over since then, full of regret.

  “Anytime, man.” Mason popped the tap on his drink and took a long draught. Then he cleared his throat, shot me a sideways look, and focused on Hudson. “So… your parents, man. That’s… that’s tough.”

  Hudson stared at his own can without opening it. He touched it with one finger and let the perspiration drip onto his skin. “It sucks. My mom turned up in the kitchen this morning. Dad’s at your house, I guess.”

  “My dad and him are coming out here tomorrow. Staying at my house tonight, I guess,” Mason said. Again, his eyes turned to me, maybe for support. I already knew the information he was relaying. “They’ll probably just… shoot guns or something out here. And my mom’s going on a weekend trip with some friends. So, you know, house to myself tomorrow, and maybe the next, too.”

  Hudson furrowed his eyebrows, still focusing on the can of soda, refusing to meet either of our gazes. “Are you inviting me or telling?”

  “Inviting, for sure.” Mason laughed, but it sounded hollow and out of place. “You, me, Willow. Like old times.”

  Hudson smirked at this, and I knew he had the same thought as me. “Old times” meaning just a few weeks ago. Before that party. Something shifted in our dynamics after that. A gradual canyon opening between him and us. Mason, apparently, remained oblivious to the change. Only we felt it. Me and Hudson.

  “Maybe.” Hudson’s eyes rose to Mason now. For just a second, I thought they passed over me. “You two have fun here last night?”

  “Got another joint, if you want it,” Mason offered. “It’s inside.”

  “I always say yes to illegal substances.” Hudson’s lips flickered with the hint of amusement. He opened his soda at last and took a drink. “You have no idea how drunk I got last night.” He said it like an afterthought, just floating from his tongue.

  Only I did have an idea. Although, to be honest, hearing him say it aloud comforted me in a way. At least, if Hudson had been black-out drunk, I could make an
excuse for him. Maybe ignore the text, or at least take it less seriously. What he’d sent me… This made it, just maybe, a little more understandable.

  “Well, share the love next time,” Mason said. He leaned back in his chair and sighed, facing me. “You’re awful quiet today, babe.”

  “Just got a headache,” I lied. “Think I hit my head or something last night after you went to sleep.”

  This piqued Hudson’s attention for some reason. I assumed that he only now realized Mason hadn’t seen the text, since he’d been asleep already. Hudson could be fairly certain that only I knew his dark truth. And judging by his expression, that offered some relief.

  “Ah, yeah. Best sleep of my life.” Mason chuckled and finished off his soda can. With one hand, he crumpled the aluminum and chucked it at the back door of the cabin. “Oh, how’d your date go, man? You never texted me.” He added quickly, “Not that I blame you, of course.”

  Hudson moved his finger around the sharp opening of his drink. His eyes were thoughtful, lost. “I… doubt we’ll be going out again. If that’s what you mean.”

  “Sucks to hear.” Mason drummed both fists on the arms of his chair and leaned back. “Oh, well. What can ya do? Some girls just don’t get it, you know?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, my vision now trained on him. “And maybe it’s Hudson that doesn’t want another date, not her.”

  “Hey, just thinking out loud!” Mason threw up his arms in defense and pushed out his chair. “I’m gonna grab another soda. Anyone want something?” When neither of us answered or even shifted, he shrugged and moved around the table. “Alrighty, then.” I felt his fingertips brush through my hair and then heard the backdoor slam shut.

  Our eyes locked immediately. Hudson bit his lower lip and ran a hand over his face. “Look, Willow…”

  “You remember what you sent me?” I asked. I didn’t want to waste any time. Mason would be back in a minute or two. And I needed this question answered. I needed to understand, at least partially.