Dev lifted a confirming hand as he started toward his sled.
The minute the sun hit his face, everything in his world righted. It didn’t matter that the oppressive heat hadn’t let up for barely a minute this fall. He loved the smells, feels, and sounds of being outside. The gentle breeze was always moving, circulating, finding its way. Much like the thoughts in his head. He and that bitch, Mother Nature, sure had shit in common. Dev palmed his phone to see if Keyes had time for lunch.
~~~
The soul-filling scenery might just be the best reason Ryan Cashin James, “Cash” for a good while now, had chosen to spend his two-week vacation in Arkansas’s river country. Truth be told, it had little to do with this being his parents’ most recent forever home.
He hadn’t been too keen on the RV his parents had chosen to call home for most of his life. But the clean air and slow pace spoke to something deeper and meaningful inside his hardening heart.
The spiritual awakening that happened every time he jogged these trails caused him to run a little farther than normal and kept each of his steps hitting the pavement in front of him, even as sweat dripped off all parts of his body.
Apparently this region was locked in a late-in-the-season heatwave. They had experienced some of the warmest temperatures ever recorded for the river country. It was damned hot outside.
In his head, he heard his mom’s voice scolding him for his use of profanity.
No matter his age or how far underground his life had taken him, she was the voice inside his head, asking him to be the best possible person he could be.
If only life were that easy.
In the real world, the relentless negative forces and roughly etched lines of good versus evil were far harder to navigate than his bohemian missionary parents prepared him for.
The tragic horrors he’d witnessed firsthand had caused him to run, bike, and lift weights to an excessive degree to help keep his head straight and eyes focused forward on the prize of a better life for everyone involved.
He spotted his parents’ RV that had seen better days twenty-six years ago when his mother, Marilyn, and his father, Norman, put their life savings—which, if he remembered correctly, was roughly five hundred dollars—into a used travel trailer and began their vine style ministry. The trailer represented their traveling Sunday services as well as their home. To this day, they were still wide-eyed idealists, determined to change the world with the power of love.
If only that were possible.
Cash trudged up the steep hill to his parents’ current campground. His father’s pulpit and lawn chair pews sat empty between the newish truck he had bought for his parents and their travel trailer.
He guessed he was their church’s biggest donor. His heart smiled. For all the years of his youth, they’d taught him love, acceptance, friends, and family were the true joys of life. The smile in his heart grew. His youth, especially once they had given up on public school and taught him at home, was the happiest time of his life. They gave him a wealth of love to support his solid foundation.
Cash slowed as he got to the entry of the camper. His mother’s decorative crosses and his father’s handmade weaponry sat on a table outside. Their sales helped subsidize the ministry. Or rather…they paid for his parents’ meager lifestyle.
He ducked his head to keep from hitting the top of the doorframe and took the few steps up into the trailer while checking the time on his smart watch.
He had three hours before his flight departed.
“Cashin, my sweet boy, you only just got here,” his mother said, complaining as she’d done since he’d gotten the news his vacation was cut short, called back into work. Her arms were elbow deep in bread dough, kneading the sticky clump.
As a child, he’d been mesmerized that something so gooey could turn out so delicious. Her fingers stopped moving, her sad face rose toward him in confusion.
“We haven’t seen you in two years. Can’t your job give us a full week with you? Surely, there’s someone in the hospital that can hold them over until you return.”
“Mom…” he started, going around the kitchen island that posed as an additional cooking space as well as a dinner table, office desktop, and laundry folding station if the current items on top spoke of its versatility.
Cash hedged, thinking over his words, trying to ignore the guilt that always hung over his head when he lied about his employment.
He stopped about a foot from her, lowered his gaze from her eyes, focusing somewhere around her nose. “It’s a new position. I have to prove myself. If they call, I have to go.”
“Daddy, help me out here,” she said to his father who looked up from the Bible he studied from, peering over the wire rim of his bifocals. He was lost in thought if his expression said anything and didn’t look overly willing to engage.
“What, Mama?” he asked. Since it had only been the three of them for all of Cash’s life, he knew his mother was on a time clock with her answer. His father had given her about fifteen seconds before he’d revert to his studies, preparing for his next sermon.
“Cashin’s work called him back,” his mother said, reminding his father.
“You just got here, son,” his father said, his gaze moving to him with the same confusion his mother used. “I thought you were staying a couple of weeks.”
“I was, but they need me,” Cash answered vaguely.
