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He worked a lot and often missed little league games and school concerts but he loved me and he loved my mom. Professionally he was known for ruthlessness and I’ll probably never know if he was involved in that terrible situation with the activists. But I like to think that the guy who idolized my mother and slipped me candy bars and tucked the blankets around my shoulders long after I should have been asleep was a decent man at heart.
After washing the candy bar down with a mouthful of snow I decide to take a hike up the peak. It’s not the brightest idea I’ve ever had, considering the ground is slippery, I have no phone and no one except for the camera man at the lookout has any idea that I’m out here. But the peak is small and I scale it without a problem. From the top I can see Black Mountain in the distance. The valley in between looks like a Christmas postcard. The sun has broken through the haze of grey winter clouds and for now the temperature is less hostile even all the way up here.
My gaze is still pointed in the direction of Black Mountain. All I see of the town is the distant spire of the tallest church but I know that church is located within a mile of Black Mountain Academy.
Where I should be right now.
Where Camden is.
Every time I think of the betrayal in her voice and the way her pretty eyes were bright with tears yesterday I feel a little worse and I already felt pretty bad in that moment. She doesn’t know whether or not to believe anything I say and why should she? So far I haven’t given her much to work with. The truth is, Camden is the first girl I’ve really wanted to know in every way.
No, it’s more than that. I want her to know me too. When I ask her to trust me I want her to feel no hesitation in believing that she can.
And I’ve already started to think of her as mine.
In fact, I can’t think of her any other way.
Damn it.
That’s right. Damn it all to hell.
Because there’s more than Camden at stake here. I fucking hate the thought of living the rest of my life this way. Wrapped in terrible secrets like some mafia character, muttering ‘Don’t ask about my business’ threats to anyone who gets too close.
I hate it so much that I open my mouth and scream. I scream at the sky and at the tall evergreen sentinels below and at Black Mountain and at Devil Valley. I scream at my mother and I scream at myself. I scream at my broken past and my lonely future.
When my throat is raw and my voice exhausted I sit there for a while and watch the shadows change. No one has heard me screaming or even knows that I’m here. I don’t think I’ve ever been as physically isolated as I am right now. But it makes no difference. I’ve already been alone for a long time. That’s what matters.
I’m not sure of the time when I climb down the peak and make my way to the parking lot but the sun has disappeared behind clouds again and I would guess that it’s sometime in the late afternoon.
If the camera guy was still at the lookout point I’d ask him but he’s long gone. I promised my mother I’d have the car back in the carport so I gas it up and return to the shabby little house where my mother has tried her best to make a home for me. She doesn’t always make the right choices but she has suffered too. She still suffers. I should try to remember that more often.
She’s sitting at the kitchen table and she doesn’t look surprised to see me when I quietly enter and place the keys back on their nail beside the door. We stare at each other for a long moment and I can tell her eyes are slightly puffy, like she’s been crying at some point today and might cry again.
“I’m sorry about this morning,” I tell her.
She nods. “Darren is gone. I told him to go and not come back.”
“Good. You deserve better.”
She tries to smile. “Do you want dinner? I could cook you something.”
I check the digital stove clock. “Thanks, but I’ve got to get to work pretty soon.”
“Oh.” She chews at the chapped corner of her lower lip and looks at the surface of the table where I smashed Dirtbag’s face this morning. “I’m really tired. I’ll probably be asleep when you get home.”
“Okay.” I’ve got one foot out the door when she calls me back.
“Ben?” She’s digging around in her purse and comes up with a wrinkled ten dollar bill, which she carries over to me. “Get yourself something to eat.”
“Will do.”
As I pocket the money I’m sure that there’s a chance being wasted here. A chance to talk about the things my mother and I never really talk about. Like my dad. We never talk about him.
She lowers her head and turns away. “Bye.”
I shut the door behind me and for the second time today I’m halfway down the block when I realize I’ve left my phone behind. Again.
Fuck it.
