Coming Undone: A Novel

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Coming Undone: A Novel Page 5

by JD Salyers


  "Dementia," Landon says quickly.

  Horwick shrugs. "It happens. We're happy to help, just so you know."

  "Hopefully it doesn't happen too often."

  They're at the green mailbox now. It says BRIGGS in those sticky gold hardware store letters. One of the 'G's is peeling off, the top corner. Landon smashes it down and wills the cop to leave him here, so that Melody doesn't see. Landon turns and points. "That's me."

  Horwick stops, too. Looks. They can't see the house from here. "That's quite a driveway. I'll walk you on home, if that's all right."

  Landon wants to tell him no, but it feels disrespectful and even suspicious. He sighs. "All right." He hopes that Melody is busy, maybe out in the back yard, so that she doesn't see. The driveway feels a hundred miles long.

  There is no sign of her when they round the trees at the front of the house, and Landon is relieved for a moment. Only a moment, because then the door slams and she's rushing out across the porch and down the stairs. "Landon? Are you all right?" She hurries to his side and takes his hand, not taking her eyes off Horwick.

  The cop nods a hello. "Morning, ma'am. Mr. Briggs here is just fine."

  Melody looks from Landon to Horwick and then back to Landon. "Honey?"

  Landon tries to diffuse the tension. "Officer Horwick, this is my overly worried wife, Melody. Melody, I just got a little turned around for a minute, but I'm fine now."

  "Turned around?" The worry - or was it plain fear? - in her eyes jumps a notch. "I don't underst -."

  But then she does, and closes her mouth. She squeezes his hand and looks at Horwick. "He's on a new medication, and we aren't sure how it affects him yet."

  It's not a lie. It's not the whole truth, but it's not a lie.

  Horwick nods and relaxes a bit. Landon can see it in the slope of his shoulders. "Well, you might want to stick close to home. Those meds can be dangerous."

  "Yes, sir," Melody says. "That's what I told him."

  Horwick starts to turn, then stops and fishes something out of his shirt pocket. He hands Melody a card, then pulls another one out for Landon. "Keep this in your wallet for me, will you?"

  Landon takes the card. It has a picture of the State Police badge on it, along with Horwick's contact info. "Sure," he says, pulling out his wallet and sliding it into a slot. "Thanks."

  "Call if you need anything at all." Horwick directs this last to Melody. She smiles and nods, and he finally turns and goes, back down the driveway toward the road. They watch until he disappears around the trees, not speaking.

  But even in the silence, knowing her so well, Landon can feel the questions vibrating in the air between them. The questions, the fear, maybe even some irritation, all rolling off her in sharp waves.

  He doesn't have answers, though. Not any that would soothe her.

  She turns and leads him into the house, wordlessly. He follows her through the cool of the living room and on into the kitchen, where she finally lets go of his hand.

  He sits at the table while she pours them both a cup of coffee. There is a window here, to his right. He looks out, and the sun seems to bright, pouring in and making a slant square on the wooden tabletop.

  Melody brings coffee, sits down across from him. "Landon?" she asks. A million questions in that one word.

  He shrugs. "It was nothing. Really."

  "Are you hurt?"

  "No. I went over to see Michael and Alexandria." He says it fast, hoping that the names of their friends will distract her.

  No such luck. She is too sharp for that. "Did you cut through the woods?"

  "I did - on the way to the house. Coming back, I used the street. That's when I ran into Officer Friendly."

  "But you were lost?"

  He shrugs. "I haven't gotten out much lately. The trees have really grown thick back there, and I lost track for a minute or two. It was just one of those things."

  "One of what things?" Her gaze is steady.

  "You know - when you go into a room and forget why you're there? Or can't remember where you put your car keys for a minute? That kind of thing." It sounded weak, even to him. Especially to him. He didn't want to explain the whole mess. It was better to pretend it didn't happen.

  "Why do I feel like you're glossing over something?" she asks.

  He shrugs again. It seems to be his go-to gesture today. She shoots him a look. Sighs. Gets up, coffee cup in hand. "I suppose you'll tell me if it's important," she says, sounding defeated.

  He wants to tell her, wants to explain in a way that puts her mind at ease, but how? If he doesn't tell the truth, she knows he's lying. If he does tell the truth, she's scared for his safety. It's a no-win situation. He keeps his mouth shut. She leaves the room.

  One interesting thing - now that he's back home and in his right mind, he realizes that his little trip through the woods had been a good thing. It reminded him of how much he missed the trips they used to take with the boys. The camping, the traipsing around, climbing along the craggy shelves of rock jutting out from the mountain... those had been good days, and now he was more excited than ever to take this trip to Razorback. It would be a special trip, especially because Jakey would be with them. His first adventure, and Landon was elated to be part of that. Telling Melody the truth - that he'd lost his mind for a good fifteen or twenty minutes this morning and didn't even recognize his own driveway - would cause her to put her foot down and cancel this trip. She might even go behind his back and talk to the boys about it.

  Sitting there alone at the sun-squared table, he shook his head at the thought. It was better to tell a little white lie than to miss this trip. He wasn't ready to be locked in at home like an old man, and he wasn't ready to give up his plans and friends and fun.

  Maybe later he could take Melody. The two of them. He might even try to make it romantic for her. She'd like that.

  Hell, she deserved that. The way she put up with his shenanigans and kept everything under control, she deserved a trip around the world if she wanted it. She was a fine woman, and he was lucky to have her. He just worried about her worrying, and he needed to figure out how to ease her mind.

  8

  In the end, he doesn't figure it out, doesn't ease her mind at all. Melody looks just as worried on the day they pull out of the driveway as she had the day of Horwick, and no amount of trying on Landon's part seems to ease her fears. Now he settles into the passenger seat of James's truck, with Jakey babbling in the back seat, and watches her stand in the driveway and wave as they pull out.

  She looks small and sad, standing there beside her car with her own overnight bag hanging off one shoulder. She's wearing a summer dress, something kind of frilly and pink, and he smiles when he thinks that, even at her age, she can still look good.

  He's smiling for another reason, too, although it seems treasonous to think about it. He's happy to be going. Partly because of the adventure - it's been a long time since they loaded up to go camping on Razorback - but partly because her fears are suffocating him. The undertone of her concern laced through all their time this past week, and right now he's glad to be getting away from it. Melody will go have a ball with the baby and Janice, and he can spend some real time with the boys. When he comes home, everything will get back to normal.

  They blow by Michael's house on their way to the interstate. He's in his truck, waiting for them, and he pulls out behind the little trailer that holds their gear. Peter is running late, he called to say, about an hour behind, so he'll meet them there.

  It's Thursday afternoon, after the rush hour but still daylight, and the air coming in through the open window is cool on Landon's arm and face. He breathes it in, leans into it. It feels like freedom.

  It feels like rain, too. Since his talk with Michael, Landon has been keeping an eye on what became Tropical Storm Nick last Wednesday night. So far, the thing is hovering just off the coast, moving slow, and no one thinks it’ll amount to much more than a bad rainstorm, especially this far inland.
>
  James notices and laughs. "You've been looking forward to this," he says.

  Landon glances over. Nods. "I didn't realize how much I missed these trips until you brought it up. Thanks for thinking of it."

  James goes quiet and fiddles with the radio. He finds some country station and turns it down low as he glances in the mirror at Jakey in the back seat. Then he says, "Mom didn't want you going."

  "I know." Landon looks out the window again.

  "Care to talk about why? She's never been like this before."

  "Like what?" Landon stalls.

  "Overly protective. Worrisome. You know."

  "We're not young anymore. She's probably just worried I'll break a hip and you ungrateful brats will leave me out there to die." It's a long-standing old-guy joke in the family, that Landon is ancient and he's going to break a hip. It's only funny because Landon is a strong, healthy man, and they all know the chances of it happening are slim.

  James laughs. "Well, she ain't wrong. You're heavy."

  Landon chuckles and punches him lightly on the shoulder. "I'd rather you leave me than drag me."

  James snorts. "Me, too."

  "Bwake a hip," Jakey says from the back seat.

  Landon laughs. "You're gonna have to start watching what you say around this one. He's getting to that age."

  "I know. A couple of days ago he told his preschool teacher that his book was a pain in the ass."

  "Youch."

  "Yeah. We got a phone call."

  Landon was grinning, imagining it. "Won't be the last one, I'll bet."

  He relaxed, thinking that Jakey had successfully changed the topic, but James isn't letting it go. "About you and Mom. How is your health these days?"

  "About what you'd expect," Landon says carefully. "A twinge here, a bruise there. Why?"

  James shakes his head. "I don't know, Dad. It just seems weird that Mom's babying you like this. Like she doesn't trust us to keep you safe."

  Oh. James is feeling guilty. He always did take on more responsibility for things than he should, and this is just another turn in that direction. "Nah, son. She knows we'll be fine. She's just got too much time to ponder all the what-ifs, you know? She needs a hobby to get her mind off things."

  "Another one?" James asks, his eyes squinting a grin. "She's got about five, not counting you."

  "I'm not a hobby. I'm a full-time job, son." Landon glances out the window. He can see their stuff in the bed of the truck, and then Michael, a couple of car-lengths behind. "He should have just ridden with us," Landon murmured.

  "I asked him about it, but he's worried he'll have to leave early." He waves a hand. "You know. Alexandria."

  Landon frowns. "What does that mean?"

  James glances at him. "You know..."

  Landon wracks his brain, trying to think if there was some information he'd missed or forgotten, but he can't think of anything. "I was just there a few days ago, and he didn't say anything about her. What's going on with Alexandria?"

  "He didn't mention it to you?"

  "Not a word."

  "Huh. I don't think he's keeping it a secret."

  "What is it?"

  James hesitates, taps the steering wheel with his thumb. Finally answers. "Brain tumor. It's still small, but it's growing."

  The news stuns Landon. Beautiful, graceful, smart as a whip Alexandria with a brain tumor? It's unthinkable. "Can't they jus...I don't know. Go in and cut those out?"

  "She won't let 'em."

  "What? Why not?"

  "The way he explained it to me, I guess this thing has grown tendrils all through different parts of her brain. To get it all, if they even can, they'd have to do too much damage to her actual brain. Michael said she wouldn't even be the same person when they were done with her, and she won't let them do that."

  Landon doesn't answer. When he first started getting forgetful, it came with headaches. He'd thought it was maybe a brain tumor then, and he'd done some research. The outlook for people who suffered from those wasn't pretty - seizures, loss of cognitive and motor skills, incontinence...a terrifying list. He'd read that eventually a lot of patients are unable to swallow, and that was almost scarier than the rest of it. He swallows now, thinking about it.

  There is no way he can imagine Alexandria going through all that. This must be killing Michael - he worships her. "I had no idea," he says softly.

  "Me, either. But that's why he worried about going."

  "I think I'd stay home too, if I was him."

  James nods. "She's making him go. She says she needs alone time, and he needs to hang out with the boys."

  Landon shakes his head. "Wow. I can't believe it." He pauses, thinks. "Is that why you were just asking me all those questions?"

  "Partly. I care - sue me, old man."

  Landon chuckles.

  "Shoo me," Jakey says.

  Darkness is nearly on them now, thanks to the thick black clouds building off the coast, and James reaches down to flip on his headlights. "I still wish we'd left earlier," he says, his voice troubled. "I don't like the idea of wandering around in the woods in the dark."

  "Since when?" Landon asks. "You boys used to love it when we got there late."

  James snorts again. "Since I grew up and realized that snakes will, in fact, bite me if I step on them."

  Landon leaves that. "Well, now Jakey can enjoy it."

  "That's true. I want to keep doing this, by the way." He hesitates. "Are you...do you have, uh, plans for this place?"

  "What do you mean?" Landon asks, but then he knows. "Oh, you mean after I die? I guess it'll be yours, if you want it. I mean, yours and Peter's. To share."

  "Pete already told me he didn't want it."

  "All right. He needs to tell me that."

  "I understand."

  They are quiet for a moment, just listening to Jakey in the back seat. Strapped down tight in his car seat, he's singing something that Landon can't quite make out.

  James chuckles. "He does that every night now. Remember when we stayed over with you guys last Christmas?"

  "Yeah?"

  "You sang him to sleep, remember? He sings himself to sleep now, every single night."

  Landon smiles in the dim glow of the dashboard lights, thinking about that. "I'm glad you told me that. I like it."

  "Janice thinks it's adorable." He pauses. "She worries about you, too. You and Mom, I mean."

  "We're all right."

  Landon almost tells him. It's on the tip of his tongue to say something, about his holes, about how he gets confused sometimes. But then he thinks about the worry that would cause, and how it would put a damper on the whole trip, and he keeps his mouth shut. He promises God, or the fates, or whoever, that he'll tell them as soon as they get home. A few more days, if he can keep it together that long. He thinks he can. He's brought the medication, he's taking it like they said. It'll be all right.

  He doesn't like them, the pills. They make him a little sick when he first takes them, but that passes after a few minutes. No big deal. No - what he doesn't like is that his holes, when they happen, have started to include something new. A kind of impulsive anger that feels powerful but wrong. A couple of days ago it happened, and when he came back to himself in the shed out back, he was holding the broken pieces of a garden rake. The wooden ends were jagged, he had apparently broken the handle of the thing in half.

  He doesn't remember doing it, but his thigh was sore for two days after that. There is also a tell-tale dent in the riding mower that wasn't there before. He hid the rake up in the open rafters and told Melody he spotted a snake in there, to keep her from finding it. He hated lying, but he didn't want to jack up her worry-meter, either, and that would do it.

  It's late when they reach the turn-off to the Razorback property. A rutted, weed-grown road even back then, it's now practically overrun with growth. Briars and tree limbs scrape hard and loud against the sides of the truck. "It'll buff out," James murmurs, trying to steer
the truck's tires on the high spots of the ruts.

  In the back seat, Jakey had already stopped singing and was snoring softly, but now he said quietly, "Da?"

  "It's all right, buddy."

  "Where we?"

  "In the woods." To Landon he says, "He's tired of sitting in that seat."

  Landon shifts around and glances back. Jakey's eyes, alert and glimmering in the low light, are watching his father. It's amazing, Landon thinks, how they know who's in charge and how to go straight to Dad if something's up. His own boys had been like that, too. Mom could handle most things, but when there was real trouble or true confusion, they came straight to him. He felt bad for the kids who didn't have a father around, didn't have that strength to turn to when they needed it most. Especially when they were so little, like Jakey.

  9

  James glances over at his dad and notes the way he looks so much older in the green glow of the lights. His cheeks are sunken in a way they weren't before, and his eyes seem wide and distant. James thinks it might just be the light, but he isn't sure. In the back, Jakey is shifting in his seat, getting restless. He'll start fussing soon. James doesn't blame him.

  He wishes Peter was here already, but there's no sign that any vehicle has come this way in a long time. Peter was always a buffer, a master at being his offhand self and breaking any tension. And like it or not, James is feeling an unexpected tension. He can't tell if it's coming from Dad, or from Mom's over-reaction to the situation lingering in his mind.

  Ahead, the headlights bounce them forward along the trail until a small clearing lights up. "Here we are," he says to nobody in particular.

  The clearing is more a widening of the trail than anything else, and even here the tree limbs are reaching out, trying to reclaim their space. Beyond this spot, the forest spreads out and covers several thousand acres, crossing the river on the other side of the mountain and continuing on toward the state line. A man lost out here could be lost for weeks.

 

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