I dealt the cards and we played. We turned our brains off and let muscle memory take over, our hands knowing what to do. We played hand after hand, until we were laughing and John was standing and yelling, “Bullshit! There’s no way you have those cards.”
It was the best I’d felt in a long time and I could tell it was the same for him.
“Another hand?” I asked.
June came in the room, looking from me to John. We were loud. We must’ve woken her.
“Can I play?” she asked.
“Do you know how?” John asked.
“Nick taught me.”
“Deal her in,” he said to me.
* * *
I didn’t know how many hands we’d played, but John started getting antsy, his eyes darting toward the window more and more. Finally, he put his cards down and pushed his chair back. The reprieve was over.
“I’ll meet you on the hill,” he said.
Hank kept his shovels behind the workshop. I grabbed one. I met June outside on the hill. She wore the yellow dress. She probably thought she should wear a dress since this was a funeral. She looked beautiful in it, just like I’d imagined she would.
John took the shovel from me and dug a couple of feet down. June gave me the box. It was lined with plastic and inside there was a wooden container that looked like one of Aunt Linda’s jewelry boxes. It was wrapped in more packing material. I opened it. Uncle Hank’s ashes were inside, sealed inside this bag that looked like a heavy-duty Ziploc.
I imagined Hank’s face. I tried not to picture it like it had been the last time I saw him, hurt and disappointed. I hoped there was a heaven, so he’d be able to see that I’d brought him back home, so he’d forgive me.
I placed the box in the bottom of the hole.
I said the prayer that Hank taught us. “Dear Lord, we are grateful for your gifts.”
I looked up and locked eyes with John.
“We are grateful for the trees you surround us with, that protect and cloak us,” John said with me. “We are grateful for the sky you hung above us and for your stars. Dear Lord, we are grateful for your gifts and we will always protect them, from now until the day we are returned to you. Amen.”
That prayer was the only clue Hank had ever given us that he was spiritual, but he’d said it every time he killed an animal or cut down a tree. “It’s important to show your gratitude,” he’d say. Of all the things I was grateful for, I was most thankful for Hank.
We were quiet as I filled the hole with dirt. I felt better knowing that Hank was back where he belonged. I patted the dirt down with my hands.
June started to walk back to the cabin, and John sat down on the ground like he was exhausted, the air going out of him.
“I’ll see you inside,” I said to June.
I didn’t know how to talk to John about what had happened to him and there were no cards out here, so I confessed my own sins.
“I got arrested again,” I said.
He looked up at me, squinting his eyes against the sun. “Hank told me. I’m sorry I wasn’t around for you.”
I sat down next to him. “It’s okay,” I said. I’d always known I’d forgive him easily. I picked at the grass. “Hank didn’t know about the last one, though.”
He didn’t say anything and he didn’t look surprised.
“I got caught trying to steal a car in El Dorado. Benny wanted it. I knew it was a bad deal when I spotted the car. It was right in the middle of downtown, but I did it anyway. Benny offered me more money and I convinced myself that I needed it.”
There was no judgment coming from John. He only listened.
“They wanted to try me as an adult, because it was my third arrest and they found the gun in my glove compartment. That didn’t help.”
He leaned forward now and there was a look in his eyes that I recognized. The protective big brother was coming out in him. I kept talking so I could see more of him.
“They want Benny,” I said. “The prosecutor offered me a deal. If I tell them everything I know, I’ll get the minimum sentence.”
“How long?” he asked.
“Five years.”
His face said he couldn’t believe it, but he quickly rearranged it.
“I was thinking about taking the time, but then Aunt Linda came to tell me about Hank and that you were home and…it felt like up was down. So I said screw it and waited for the food truck to come and I hid in the back.”
“You broke out of Durrant?”
“I had to bring Hank home,” I said.
And see you, I didn’t say.
“What if you screwed up your deal?” he asked.
“I definitely screwed up my deal. But it doesn’t matter.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because I’m not taking it. I’m not going back.”
“You can’t be serious,” he said. He stood. He looked like I had when I’d walked in the kitchen earlier, like he was gearing up for a fight.
I stood, too. “I am serious,” I said. “I’m not doing time for Benny.”
“So you’re gonna do what instead?”
I shrugged. “Go up the mountain.” Start the life we’d been planning since we were kids.
“But you can put Benny away. You can be the one to stop him.”
He almost sounded jealous.
I shook my head. “But five years? And that’s if I get the minimum sentence. If not, I’ll be in my thirties before I get out.”
“I don’t want that for you. You gotta believe me, but it’s better than the alternative.”
“How can it be better than this?” I asked, throwing my hands out to the sides, to the mountains around us.
He stepped closer to me. “Don’t do this. The best parts of our childhood were out here. When we were kids, this place was our only escape. Don’t let it become your prison.”
He put his arm around my shoulder and I was ten years old again.
“Do you know how many guys are doing time because they got sucked in by Benny? He sets it up so you take all the risks and he keeps most of the money. And he makes you believe that he cares about you, that you’re part of something bigger, like some screwed-up family, but it’s not real. I’m your family,” he said. “Hank was your family. And you’re the best of us. So be the first one of us who doesn’t run away. Take the deal. Tell them what they want to know. And when you get out, come back here on your own terms.”
“No, I’m not doing that kind of time. I can’t. Just a few months in Durrant and I felt like I was coming out of my skin, and you want me to go back so I can be locked up for years? No.”
He started pacing. “I wanted it to be your choice,” he said.
“What?”
“You were supposed to want to do the right thing.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re not disappearing,” he said. “You’re gonna do what’s right.” He was agitated. “The police are on their way here.”
“What?” I had no words. I couldn’t think.
“Mom called after you and June left her place,” he explained. “She said y’all were headed here. That’s why I was out in the woods last night. I was trying to find you. She told me what you planned to do. And I can’t let you do it. I can’t let you give up your whole life.”
“You ratted me out?”
“It’s not like that.”
“What’s it like, then?”
He didn’t answer. I looked to the horizon, like I expected the police to appear at any moment.
“It’ll be at least tomorrow morning before they make it out here,” he said. “I told them how to get here, but not the easy way. I wanted to have more time with you.”
He stepped closer but I backed up.
“One day
you’ll understand,” he said. “I know you don’t think so and you might hate me, but I had to do it. I promise you it’s the right thing.”
He looked around, studying the landscape, and then his eyes landed back on mine. “Hank always said we had to take care of each other. That’s what I’m trying to do. You’ll be okay. I’m gonna finish Hank’s fence and then I’m gonna come see you. And Dad.”
Because we’d be together.
“You don’t get to decide what’s right for me,” I said. “Not anymore. You shouldn’t have called the police. There are things you don’t know.”
I thought about June. I didn’t know if the cops would descend with guns blazing or if it would be more civilized. I didn’t know how she’d react or what would happen to her. There was too much I didn’t know and all of it was out of my control. I couldn’t believe that John had forced my hand, but it wasn’t going down like that. I was through letting people make decisions for me.
“You’re wrong,” I said. “About everything.”
I walked down the hill, away from him. He didn’t follow.
June wasn’t in the cabin. I had to find her and tell her what John had done. I couldn’t be around when the police came. I walked around the back to the workshop. The door was open. The front room of the workshop was where Uncle Hank kept all of his woodwork projects. Different pieces of furniture sat in all stages of completion. These were pieces he’d never finish. Grieving was weird. It didn’t hit me all at once like I’d thought it would, but a little bit at a time and when I least expected it. Though I wasn’t grieving just Hank this time.
I found her in the back room, in his studio. She was studying all the pieces that hung around the space. She stared at the painting of Hank and my mom standing in front of that house they’d never lived in. She turned when she heard me. I’d miss her most of all, the girl I was never supposed to have.
She walked to the cot in the corner of the room and sat down. I felt torn in two pieces. Part of me wanted to run right then and part of me wanted to stay there with her. I went to the record player. Hank’s record collection was varied. I flipped through the albums. I stopped when I found what I wanted.
It was Tommy James and the Shondells’ “Crimson and Clover” and it played loud in the small space.
When I looked at June, she knew what I wanted, because she slid her shoes off and lifted the dress over her head, her eyes never leaving mine. We’d make the most of these last moments.
“I want you to put the blackbirds back,” she said.
Of all the things I’d painted on her, they were my favorite. I liked that I’d leave her wearing them.
I went to the workstation and opened the door to the paint cupboard, setting what I’d need on a small tray and bringing it over to the cot.
Chill bumps popped out on her legs when I touched her. I rubbed my hands down them, trying to warm her up, my fingers memorizing her. My mouth landed on hers and I forgot about the paint for a second, but I pulled back. As much as I wanted her, I wanted to finish the painting more. Dipping my fingers in the paint, I worked the birds into shape, the slide guitar in the background tracking my movements. I understood why this had been Uncle Hank’s favorite song. The birds came quick, like they were flying from my hands. For someone who was good at making mistakes, I could also make something out of nothing.
I knew when I was done that she’d be my masterpiece.
I helped her stand so I could paint the birds on her back. Everywhere my fingers touched, my mouth wasn’t far behind. The art was foreplay. Her chest rose and fell with her breaths, and when I was done, my lips were on hers and there was no going back this time. I’d mess up the paint but it didn’t matter anymore. It felt right that the paint would smear—it’d be evidence, proof of where I’d been, a stamp of the way I loved her, messy and flawed.
We lay down on the cot and her breathing was loud and her arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer, always closer. The song had stopped a long time ago but we didn’t miss a beat, our bodies still dancing, knowing how to move together.
* * *
It was quiet. We were still on the cot. I’d been listening for John, worried he might come in on us, but there was only silence.
June flinched, her whole body tensing up around me. She’d been doing it from time to time all day. I wanted to crawl inside her head and get rid of the intruders. I wanted to tell her that everything would be okay, but I couldn’t lie to her. My plan had been to tell her goodbye and slip out after she went to sleep. By morning I’d be long gone and the police would never find me. I figured as long as they got June back, everybody would be happy. Everyone but John.
But I didn’t want it to go that way anymore. I knew what I had to do. It was more for me than her. I had to know for sure that she was somewhere safe, where her parents could get to her fast. I couldn’t just take off and leave it up to chance. And I needed more time with her.
“We gotta go,” I said.
I got up from the cot and started getting dressed.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you up the mountain. We’ll take Hank’s truck. There won’t be roadblocks going that way.”
“What? Why?”
“I have to change my plans. John called the police and they’ll be here by morning. Where I wanted to go isn’t safe anymore. I know of another place, but I have to leave now.”
She grabbed my arm. “John called the police? They’re coming here?” She looked as panicked as I felt.
“They’ll be here by morning, but we aren’t waiting for them. I’ve gotta get out of here now. There’s a small police station about an hour up the mountain. I’ll drop you there. No one will be expecting us up there. You’ll be safe and I’ll go farther up the mountain. I’ll dump Hank’s truck along the way.”
I said it with conviction, like it was a plan I’d worked out a long time ago. I worried she’d argue, tell me all the reasons we should stay, tell me that John was right and I should turn myself in, but she stood and said, “Let’s go.”
We hurried through the workshop but then skidded to a stop. John stood in the doorway. We didn’t say anything, just stared at each other. I worried he was going to physically try and stop me from leaving. He was stronger than me. I thought he’d start telling me all the ways I was wrong, all the reasons I needed to listen to him and stay and wait for the police, but he didn’t do any of those things.
He stepped to the side, letting us pass. I didn’t miss the look on his face, though. It was the same one Hank had worn the last time I saw him.
Right after John was deployed, Nick and I were in my bedroom. He’d come to my window, wanting to be let in. We’d been friends for a long time, but this was the first time he’d ever come to my window. Things had been changing between us. He told me things he didn’t want anyone else to know. He said that I was good at keeping his secrets and that he trusted me more than anyone. This confession made me feel invincible, like I was taller than mountains.
It was late and he was pacing, making a path from my dresser to the window and back again.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
But I knew he was lying because he was wearing down the wood planks where he paced. He’d been acting so weird lately, like he was about to tell me something but thought better of it at the last minute. So many times, he’d opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again.
“What?” I asked. “Please tell me what.”
I hated that there was something important he needed to say but felt like he couldn’t. I worried that he was rethinking his stance that he could trust me with anything.
“You can trust me,” I reminded him.
He stopped and stared at me, and the air in the room went still. “I want to be with you,” he said. “I want to alw
ays be with you.”
* * *
The ride had been quiet. Part of me couldn’t believe that this was really happening, that this was how we’d say goodbye. I was glad I’d worn the yellow dress, because it was right that I should say goodbye to him wearing something he’d given me, covered in blackbirds and paint smears.
We sat in the parking lot of the police station, staring at the sign that read COMMUNITY FIRST. Neither of us said a word or moved an inch. It was rare to know for sure that the next thing you did would change the course of your life forever. We couldn’t rush this. We had to make sure we got all the parts just right.
It was a slow day at the police station, because there were only two vehicles in the lot that weren’t police cruisers, and one was ours.
Nick hadn’t said a word since we’d left his uncle’s. He sat facing me, his back to the driver’s-side door. In my head, I’d been practicing what came next. I’d get out of the truck and I’d wait in the parking lot until he drove away. I’d wait until I couldn’t see his taillights anymore and then I’d wait some more. I had to give him enough time to get away before I walked into the station. Then I’d tell them who I was and they’d call my parents and they’d come get me. Bethany would be with them, because no way could they keep her away, and I’d spend the rest of my life missing Nick.
Nick scooted closer to me. “Remember that day we were at Lake Brady and John was with us and we jumped off the high rock?” he asked.
It was August and the sun had beaten at us from all sides. After we’d gotten the courage to jump off the first time, we’d climbed back up and done it over and over again. We’d gone home sunburned and with muscles already sore.
“Yeah,” I said. I moved even closer to him.
“And the time we went to Glow Bowl in Camden and you bowled a thirteen?”
I nodded.
“How does somebody bowl a thirteen?”
“It takes a certain kind of person,” I said.
The entire bowling alley had been set up with black lights and we’d found out that one of Bethany’s teeth didn’t glow in the dark.
Nick and June Were Here Page 21