Coming Undone: A Novel

by JD Salyers

  When James and Peter had first thought of the idea, over a small bonfire in James's back yard, he had rejected it at first. It was late summer, and his work was humming along well enough that he didn’t really want to take the time off. There is always something else to do when a man owns his own gig. Paperwork, dealing with employee problems, whatever. Even calming Janice's fears is a full time job some days, even though the business is firmly in the black and has been for the better part of two years now. She worries, but she trusts him, and he doesn't want to let her down, so his whole life has been about the job for a long time. It had taken Peter to point that out, though, and the idea of getting away from everything had jolted James like a shock. Even now that they are essentially here, he feels somehow truant and sinful. There is also the nagging sensation that he's forgotten something important, even though he knows he hasn't. All their gear has been checked and double-checked, first by him and then by Janice, who hadn't liked the idea of him bringing Jakey along.

  That's an understatement. She had been livid about it at first, until he explained his thinking. The truth is, he doesn't like the idea of his parents dying - either of them - and he feels a definite need to grab all the time he can with his dad, especially. Even more importantly, he thinks about Jakey, and how he wants him to know Landon before it's too late. For now, Jakey won't remember anything they do, but James hopes Landon's presence will influence him somehow anyway, even unconsciously. Because Landon is a good man, a strong man. A better man than James will probably ever be, and that's important. James wants Landon's influence to rub off on Jakey.

  So here they are. He pulls off to the side of the clearing, careful to leave room for the doors to open, and shuts off the truck. "Da?" Jakey asks from the back seat.

  "We're here, buddy. You want out of that contraption?"

  Jakey makes a happier noise, and James smiles over at Landon. Landon isn't paying attention, he's looking around, out through the windows. "This place is a mess, isn't it?" he asks.

  "Yeah. Wish I could clean it up." James had a tendency to see everything in terms of its landscaping potential, and this place was no different.

  "Arlo Graham still alive?" Landon asks.

  "Surprisingly enough, yeah. He's in a wheelchair part of the time these days, but still as wily as ever." Arlo Graham is the man who owns this clearing and the land around it. He's always been open to letting the Briggs family park here and walk in to their own land, but James had called last week, just to be sure that hadn't changed. He'd expected to have to deal with an heir, but Graham himself answered the phone and recognized his name immediately.

  "Whoa, boy. Been a long time now, haint it?" he'd yelled in his gruff voice, in that way of old people who had hearing difficulties. "Guess you aint a boy no more, are ya?" Then his boisterous laughter had blasted James in the ear, a sound that took James back twenty years in an instant.

  He'd smiled at the memories. More times than not, Graham had shown up during their camping trips, and James remembered him as a rough but solid man. "No, sir. They made me grow up."

  Another blast of that loud laughter, and then after some chatter Arlo had told him that the invitation was still solid. "Come on out," he'd said. "Stop by and see me before you go, let me see that new baby."

  "It's hard to imagine Arlo in a wheelchair," Landon says now. "I've seen that man lift logs that a normal man couldn't budge."

  "I know. He says he only uses it when his wife makes him. It'll be good to see him after all these years, though."

  "Dough," said Jakey, still squirming.

  "Yeah," Landon said.

  A few fat raindrops land on the windshield. Both men look at them, then each other. Landon's eyebrows come up and he laughs. "Janice'll kill you if Jakey comes home with a cold," he says.

  James nods. "You're right. I'm not going home now, though. It's supposed to clear up. A few showers moving through, is all. Nick is still hanging around off the coast, spitting at everything."

  "Good, good." Landon puts a hand on the door handle and then pauses. "I'm glad you did this, son. It'll be a nice break. For all of us."

  James nods, embarrassed by the praise for some reason. He's glad Landon can't see his face heating up. "I'm glad, too. I needed to get away."

  No more raindrops fall, and they get out of the truck. Landon goes to the trail and looks off into the darkness, in the direction they need to go. The woods around them feels damp and cooler than the city. "I hope you packed light," he says.

  "I did. Well, as light as you can with a toddler along." James goes around to the passenger side of the truck and unbuckles Jakey from his seat. Jakey wiggles his way out of his father's arms to the ground, then stands very still looking around, one finger tucked firmly in his cheek. When he spots Landon, he runs to him. "Up," he says, lifting his arms.

  "Jakey..." James says, but Landon is already gathering the pudgy toddler into his arms.

  "Oof. You're heavy," he says.

  Jakey laughs. "Where we?" he says, looking over Landon's shoulder at the trees. They are ghostly in the moon's glow, now that James has killed the headlights. A few stars twinkle between the clouds.

  "In the woods," Landon says, then they all turn as Michael's truck comes grumbling into the clearing, headlights bouncing off the trees.

  Jakey points and whimpers, and James imagines that to him, Michael's Dodge does probably look and sound like a monster coming at them, the way it's crashing and rocking through the brush.

  Landon squeezes Jakey tight and shushes him. Jakey squirms, but doesn't take his eyes off the truck until the headlights shut off and Michael climbs out.

  "Didn't think we were ever going to get here," Michael says, stretching. "I don't remember it being this far from home."

  "It's just a couple of hours," Landon says with a laugh.

  James smiles and feels some of the tension leave his shoulders. They're here, Dad seems fine, and maybe Melody was over-reacting. It's going to be a good weekend. "I figured we could hang out here until Peter shows up," he says. "It's probably best if he doesn't have to hike in alone."

  As if to prove the point, a coyote howls, far off, over the ridge. All three men turn that direction. James looks away first, toward his father, and catches a hint of consternation on his face. No, not consternation - confusion. Landon looks bewildered, like he's just been dropped into some foreign land. James watches him scan the dark woods, then turn and look around the rest of the area. He opens his mouth, intending to ask, but Landon's searching gaze stops at the sight of Michael. He takes a step back.

  As James watches, Landon freezes and pulls Jakey in closer, making Jakey squirm. Landon relents and lets him down slowly, but doesn't let go of his hand.

  The look in Landon's eyes is, for a few moments, pure fear. Even in the low light, James can see it, clear as anything. Finally, he spits the word out. "Dad?"

  Landon turns, and the confusion melts away. He breathes in deep. James can hear it.

  "You all right, Dad?"

  "Sure, sure." Landon blinks and shakes his head a little. "Just got light-headed for a second. Must have stood up too fast when I picked up Jakey." He glances toward Michael again.

  James knows Landon is lying, but he can't think of any other explanation for the moment of strange behavior. And Landon is fine now, same as normal, so maybe it was partly his own imagination.

  He decides to keep his mouth shut, but makes a mental note to keep an eye on his father.

  10

  Landon likes that they have, by nearly unspoken agreement, decided to wait here in the clearing for Peter. It's what families do, and he's proud of that, but he also needs a moment to get his head on straight. That minute there, when he didn't recognize Michael, was cutting. He hopes it was dark enough that no one else noticed. He also hopes it won't happen again.

  Michael is a friend, a long-time friend, not a stranger and definitely not a threat. Landon isn't sure why his mind forgot that. It's shameful, and it would
hurt Michael if he knew.

  "What?" Michael asks with a chuckle, and only then does Landon realize that he's staring. "I got Cheeto dust on my face or something?"

  "Chee-O!" Jakey yells, then giggles. "Da, I want Chee-Os!"

  "See what you did?" James teases Michael. "You are corrupting my son with your wily snacks."

  Landon grins, thankful for Jakey's ability to change the mood.

  Michael goes around to the passenger side of his truck and opens the door, then leans in and fiddles with something for a minute, frowning. When he closes the door again, he's strapping on a hip holster. A big one.

  James laughs. "You brought the Desert Eagle?"

  "If you're gonna go, might as well go big," Michael retorts, grinning.

  "There's big, and then there's big, my man."

  "Yeah, well...I never get to use the thing. Might as well." There is something in Michael’s voice that doesn’t sound like joking. Something resigned, or maybe sad.

  Landon eyes the gun, trying to place the term - Desert Eagle - in his mind. Then he remembers, and chuckles, too. Big is right. "That thing could kill an elephant. We don't have elephants in North Carolina."

  "We got bears, though. Am I right?" Michael pats the holster. “When you’ve got a job to do, you need the best tool for the job. Anything else is just screwing around.”

  "You're right." Landon shuts up, nervous that he'll say something that will give away the fact that his brain is doing something stupid right now. He isn't sure what - it's glitching, making his thoughts feel somehow crooked, off to the left a little. Like he's a hologram, talking past the others, not to them. He hopes it'll straighten out in a minute or two.

  Jakey is losing his fear now, and he's wandered off toward the trees. He finds a stick and starts poking at a puddle with about an inch of water in it. Landon watches him kick at it, then fall down. He struggles back to his feet and goes in search of something else to play with. He swings his stick and hits a rock with it.

  "Come on, Dad, let's get this stuff unloaded," James says, pulling him back to the conversation.

  "Sure."

  The back of the truck is loaded with gear, and Landon knows for a fact that the two of them can't carry it all. He says so.

  "Oh, most of this is just-in-case stuff. We aren't hauling it all in," James explains with a shake of his head. "We can come back to get what we need, if something happens."

  "What do you mean?" Landon asks.

  "Well, I've got three tents in here, but I ain't carrying three four-man tents. If we rip one, though, we've got a back-up."

  "Hmm. All right. Smart," Landon says.

  "Dad, you taught me this." James looks at him with a smile, but there's worry in his voice.

  Landon thinks fast. "That's why I said it was smart," he says, like it was a joke.

  It wasn't a joke. Get it together, old man, he thinks, anger bubbling up in his chest. He needs to be in good shape for this one weekend, and his stupid brain can't even manage that.

  Not far off, maybe a hundred yards away, something moves through the trees, stamping down the undergrowth. Maybe a deer. Nothing to be worried about, probably, but Landon still searches for and finds Jakey. "Jake, come here," he says, holding out his hands. Jakey drops the stick and runs over, wanting up. Landon lifts him. His red t-shirt, with a yellow dinosaur on it, looks nearly black. The moon is nearly nonexistent behind the clouds.

  James clicks on a MagLite. "That'll help."

  Michael is busy unloading his own pack, grunting that Alexandria made him bring everything in the fridge. "Like we don't know how to survive on our own," he mutters.

  "Well, she might have a point," Landon says, thinking about Alexandria and her brain tumor and what Michael must be going through right now. It's gotta be heartbreaking, even if none of the men here would ever say so. He doesn’t even know if the subject is something Michael wants to talk about - this weekend is supposed to be relaxing, not meant for brooding over all a man’s troubles. He decides to not say anything unless Michael brings it up first.

  James hands Landon his pack - a bigger one, with heavy-duty padded straps and aluminum braces for support. Landon puts Jakey down and takes it, grunting. "You could fit Jake in this thing," he says, twisting to swing it over his shoulders.

  "Da," Jakey says, flapping his little fingers, reaching for James.

  "Only if we have to," James jokes. Then he pulls out another pack, this one no bigger than Landon's boot. He hands it to Jake.

  "Here you go, buddy," he says. Jakey takes the pack and swings it in a circle. He laughs and drops it.

  Landon laughs, too, and shows him how to put it on his shoulders, "Like a big boy."

  Jakey plays with the strap and then shrugs the whole thing off. He goes to find his stick.

  "Smart kid," Michael says. He's wearing a big pack, too, maybe even bigger than the ones Landon and James are wearing.

  Landon hears another sound under the normal night sounds. The wind is kicking up a little, howling through the trees on the ridge, but that’s not it. He cocks his head and listens, then recognizes it as the sound of an engine. "Peter's here," he says.

  "He made good time, too."

  A few beats later, headlights pierce the darkness and then Peter's truck - an older Ford with rust along the rocker panels, bounces into the clearing. Something else crashes along behind him, making too much noise.

  "He's got a trailer," James says, more to himself than anything.

  Jakey screams and runs for his daddy, who drops his packs and scoops him up. "It’s only Uncle Pete," he says to calm the boy, pointing at the headlights. "Uncle Pete's here."

  Jakey stares at the lights, unsure, and curls his arms around himself.

  Landon wonders how it must feel to be so small, so unsure of what in the world is safe and what is a potential threat. Then he thinks about his run-in with the cop last week and his inability to recognize Michael earlier. He thinks he might have a clue about that before it's over with.

  The truck shuts off and the door opens. Peter climbs out, groaning just like the rest of them had when he bends into a stretch. He finishes off a bottle of what looks like beer, then throws it into the back of the truck. "Traffic sucks, but I made it."

  "We didn't expect you for another half an hour," James says. "You made good time."

  "Well, speeding is a thing."

  "Peeding," Jakey says. "Unc Pete." He runs that way.

  "Hey, little man." Peter swings him up and then around in a circle. Jakey giggles and flaps his hands. Peter looks at Landon. “I brought gifts."

  He points toward his truck, and Landon walks over to it, close enough that he can see a load of four-wheelers on the trailer. "Nice," he says. "That'll make life a lot easier."

  "I thought so. Don't want you to break a hip."

  Landon groans.

  Now that all his boys are here and everyone is safe, Landon feels better. It's going to be a good weekend. "Lets get these unloaded, then, and get this show on the road," he says. "We've still got to set up tents and get a...uh...."

  The word flutters away, lost in the darkness. His voice stumbles.

  "Fire?" James asks quietly.

  "Yeah." Landon laughs to blow it off, but his voice is shaking. "Fire."

  "Fire!" Jakey yells.

  Peter laughs out loud, shifts the baby to one side, then digs his keys out of his pocket and tosses them to Landon.

  Landon looks at the keys, then back at Peter. "You drinking and driving, son?"

  Both boys knew better - there had been more lectures about that subject than any other in the Briggs household when they were growing up.

  "Nah - that was my first. I opened it when I hit the trailhead."

  "All right."

  Landon goes over to the back of the trailer and sees a small lock holding the tailgate shut. That's odd. At least he thinks it is. Three four-wheelers, parked sideways, fill the space. "Borrowed them from the job site," Peter says to his back.
"Boss is giving everybody the weekend off."

  "Good of him." Landon fumbles the keys, then remembers that these padlocks have a very small key, usually. He finds it and twists open the lock with a click.

  “He thinks this storm is going to get worse. He also thinks we’re crazy to be coming out here this weekend.” Peter comes over and shows him how to let down the side of the trailer, so that they can drive the machines off without having to wrangle them sideways. That explains the padlock, and it also explains how Peter managed to get them loaded that way - the side of the trailer acts as a ramp. "All full of gas," Peter says, patting one, a red beast with racing stickers all over it. "Four wheel drive."

  Landon can tell that Peter is proud of his contribution to the cause, and he pats his youngest on the shoulder as he walks by. "Thanks, Pete. This'll make life a lot easier."

  "Too bad we didn't have these when we were kids," James says.

  Jakey kicks one of the tires of the closest ATV, then figures out how to scramble onto the seat. Landon realizes that his shoulders are starting to hurt, and shrugs off his pack, putting it behind Jakey on the cargo rack. He stares at it for a minute, knowing he can't just leave it here, then uses one of the straps to secure it around the rack. "That should hold."

  He looks up to see the other men doing the same. "Who's riding?" he says to no one in particular. He opens up the flap on his pack and gets his own pistol, a .38 that’s quite a bit smaller than Michael’s cannon but still plenty to defend against anything that he might come up against out here. He tucks it down into the waistband of his jeans and hooks it onto his belt.

  "Not me. I brought the dang things, so I get to drive one." Peter says with a laugh. "I figure Michael could climb on with James, and one of us could hold Jakey."

  Landon nods. "That'll work."

  It takes a few minutes to get everybody settled, and another few to make sure the trucks are locked up and out of the way, but then they're riding into the dark, headlights slashing across what's left of the trail ahead. Landon makes sure to delay his machine until someone else goes ahead. Just in case. It's been a long time since he walked these woods, and even longer since he made the trek at night.