Peace Love Resistance

by Jettie Woodruff

  “Says the mom who let me go to Boston for three weeks when I was eleven.”

  “You weren’t alone,” she barked like that made it okay. Luckily the subject was passed over, more for her than me. One thing about my mom, she didn’t like the spotlight, not when it made her own up to her mistakes. She let me go to Boston with my babysitter and her son because of a once in a lifetime trip she was offered. Of course it was with a dude. Stewart Galion. One of the few that I actually liked. Too bad he turned out to be gay. Then again, he may have decided that after my mom.

  “This is amazing, Ty. You should make a video of this. I bet it would go more viral than the last one,” my dad suggested, his fingers running over the wood and my craftsmanship. I’d never built anything in my life, but thanks to YouTube, there was plenty of help. This thing was sick, and I couldn’t wait to show Tristan. Maybe.

  My parents bugged me for twenty minutes, bragging about my work, committing on every little detail, but it wasn’t them I wanted to please. What either of them said had little effect on me, unless I wanted something of course. Like now.

  “Mom, can you give me a haircut?”

  “Now?”

  “Soon. I want to finish this railing first.”

  My dad squatted to my battery-bank just inside the door, a peculiar expression while he followed the wires. “Ty, you can’t hook this battery up like this. You got a have it going through an inverter and connect it to the solar. Did you get a voltmeter?”

  “Yes, but I haven’t dug much into it yet. I was waiting until you got the painting done.”

  “I’m only painting the hood and the fender. Want me to help you get it on the roof and hooked up? Looks like you got a decent amount of power. Is it two or three-hundred watts?”

  “Two, but I can go three if I get another solar panel. We’ll see. I think two’s plenty.”

  My dad laughed, trying to make a joke. “Depends on how many video games you play. You hooking a television up?”

  I didn’t laugh with him, but I was seriously thinking about his help. Just because he didn’t do shit, didn’t mean he couldn’t. He was just one of those guys that if it needed fixed, he was your man. Besides, those freaking solar panels were heavy. “No, I have my laptop. I’ll watch a movie on there if I want. I doubt I’ll be inside much anyway. You can help me get the panels screwed down if you want.”

  My dad climbed the ladder I’d just installed on the back door, a yard sale find I’d luckily found the day before going into town for more screws.

  “I’m not staying in here while you guys work,” my mom pouted, her arms crossing over her chest.

  “This won’t take long. Let me help Ty a little and then we’ll go to MJ’s for supper.”

  Yup, that pissed me off. “You can go through the water to get to the bar, but not the garage to paint the van?”

  “Ty, it’ll get done before you leave, man. Chill out.”

  “I’m going in the house,” my mom whined, her feet slowly shuffling toward the door, a failed attempt to get my dad to stop her.

  “Hand me the drill,” he said, totally ignoring her.

  Still needing a haircut, I was the one that stopped her. “Mom, haircut?”

  “Depends on if we go to MJ’s. Hurry up, Buck.”

  “One hour, babe.”

  My mom grunted her displeasure with my dad and left, never giving me a straight answer. Whatever. Screw it. I’d just go to the barbershop and let that old man do it. She’d dick me around for a week, no doubt. I didn’t have a week.

  “I thought you ordered a mattress?” my dad questioned as I handed him the drill.

  “I did. They’re up in the loft. That’s the last thing going in. I don’t want them to get dirty,” I answered, excitement building at the thought. Tristan was going to love it. It beat the two-inch topper she had on her cot all to hell; eight inches of not so cheap foam, cut to perfection and professionally covered with black, soft material. Baby-T’s was, also. Only his was five inches, but I caught fish that weighed more than him. I was pretty sure it would suffice and the spindles with the feathers was just plain, kick-ass, sick. I’d spent almost a whole night, stripping the old paint to make sure there was nothing-lead left in them, except for the delicate feathers of course. Those were carefully covered with a poly to protect the delicate artwork. It was so awesome and even if Tristan didn’t remember the bed, she’d find the beauty in the reclaimed spindles. I did that with a lot of the bones, using old wood from around the barn. I even found a whole pile of two by fours in the back of the barn, probably something her dad planned on using. My dad sure as hell didn’t use them, my dad didn’t use anything. That’s why the van was still in the barn in the first place. He was lucky to keep the yard mowed let alone fix something. Not that he couldn’t. He just didn’t. Riding around the yard on a John Deere with a joint and a cold beer was about as much work as you’d see him doing.

  Two hours later…She had power. The van needed to be parked in the sun for a few hours to charge the batteries, but it worked. The lights I’d hung from the ceiling all worked, dimly, but working. Unfortunately, there would be no sun for that, not today anyway.

  “I’ll wire the batteries to the alternator when I take it to the garage. That way you can charge with the engine when you’re driving or parked in the shade,” my dad offered, his forearm wiping sweat from his head.

  That was something I’d never thought about. Tristan had two small solar panels that she moved to the sun, but it wasn’t attached to the van. She’d want the shady spots for Baby-T. Accepting the fact that I may need to rethink my power, I called it good enough for now. Now, if I could just get the rest of it to match. Time was running out, and the stupid weather needed to corporate with me. I had a four-day trip to attend with a pretty girl and the cutest baby in the whole wide world. Smiling at myself for thinking about them again for the one hundredth time that day, I climbed out of the van, happy to be done. Except for the mismatched parts that is. That part made me nervous. Everything looked spectacular and I didn’t want to present it to her with the tricolor body parts. It looked ridiculous.

  “Thanks for your help. Now get it painted,” I said, my hand reaching out for my dad’s without thought.

  “No problem, son. I like doing things with you. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Of course I wasn’t about to touch that one. Just like his plan to fix up the farm, he planned to do a lot of things with me. He never got around to that either. Besides, I seemed to be worried about something else. Jesus. Why the hell did I all of a sudden feel like a grown up? I didn’t worry. “Everything’s sound? You wouldn’t be afraid to jump in it and take it to Florida?”

  My dad gave me a look, spitting a loogy to the corner of the dirt floor. “I’d drive this thing to Arizona. Anything that could go wrong has already been replaced. I even put a new starter on it because I had one. You don’t have to worry about it breaking down on you; she’s a tank.”

  That’s what I needed to hear. “Okay, sweet. I’m going to finish working on these spindles.”

  My dad walked to the side doors of the van, his head shaking from side to side. “Yeah, I don’t get that. What’s that for again? And this? Why do you need this seatbelt bolted to the floor?”

  “More seating,” I lied. Sort of. It was for more seating. Baby-T had to have a safe place to ride, too.

  “Alright, I’m going to see what your mom’s doing. You coming in?”

  “Nah, I’ll probably just sleep up in the loft. It’s very peaceful when it’s raining. Night.”

  “Night.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Around eight o’clock the same night, things got a little crazy and I may or may not have overreacted. The wind was really whipping, lightening looked like you could touch it, and the rain beat loudly against the tin roof, leaking everywhere but the loft. Thank God. That wasn’t my concern though. I didn’t like Tristan and Baby-T being over there alone.

  Retriev
ing the walkie-talkie from my makeshift bedside table, I radioed Tristan. “I’m coming after you. Over.”

  “Coming after me? What do you mean?”

  “We’re under severe thunderstorms all night. I don’t like you being over there alone. I’m coming after you.”

  “T, I’m fine. This isn’t my first thunderstorm. I know how to park. No limbs are going to come down on top of us. We’re fine. Stay home. I don’t want you out in this either. We’re just reading baby books. He’s wide-awake. I think he likes the storm. Over.”

  I let out an exasperated breath, wishing she wasn’t so independent sometimes. “Will you just enlighten me and stay with me tonight. When’s the last time you slept in a barn, huh? Come on, T. Please let me come and get you.”

  “No, Tobias. We’re fine. I’m not dealing with your parents. I don’t need to be put in the middle of that right now.”

  I jumped, startled by the sound of thunder almost blinded by the bright sky, lightening following the loud bang. “They don’t come in here. I’ll take you back as soon as it calms down. Please let me come and get you.”

  “You’re the worst twin flame ever. Fine, but you should know that I’m pretty independent.”

  “Yes, Miss. Independent. I’m well aware. Get ready; I’ll be there in five. Over.”

  Tristan growled like a bear, but gave in just the same. “Over.”

  I closed the square door, fastening it from the whipping wind and scurried down the ladder, first making sure the side door was closed, the van hidden behind the wall. One thing about living in the country my chances of the keys being in my mom’s Jeep were high. We rarely pulled the keys. Ducking my head like it would help, I ran to the Jeep, realizing it wasn’t there. They took it through the water to get to the bar.

  Of all days. “Fuck!”

  Luckily, my dad left his and like a drowned rat, I made my way up the other side of the mountain, the wind whipping the trees all the way up. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wasn’t a little scared. Storms in the mountains weren’t like they were in California; storms here were a whole lot closer. I’m pretty sure I kept my head ducked between my shoulders, jerking out of fear with every flashy crack. The road was muddy, the rain made it almost impossible to see, and the lightening was blinding, and there was no way I was letting her stay there alone through it. She could be independent in the morning.

  It’s a good thing I had four-wheel-drive. There was no way I would have made it out of Tristan’s camp without it. She handed me a tiny little bundle wrapped in a red blanket and ran ahead of me, her flip-flops slipping to the sides in all the sludge. Once I handed her Baby-T, I hurried out of there, the rain and wind, beating like I’d never seen before.

  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this. You should have just stayed with me,” Tristan complained, her wet lips meeting Baby-T’s little head. “Did you get wet? Hmm? It’s his fault.”

  “You don’t have room for me in there. Stop whining and humor me, will you?”

  “Yes, that’s why I’m taking my newborn out in the middle of a thunderstorm.”

  “This isn’t just a thunderstorm. There’s been like three tornado’s spotted today.”

  Tristan held Baby-T close to her chest, her comments kept to herself, but her amusement not very well hidden. “Okay, you’re driving.”

  Three minutes later I pulled to the front of the barn and let her out first, parking the truck back where I’d gotten it from. Not that he would notice or even ask, but still better to keep a low key; especially with having a girl and a baby in my room…barn.

  “Hello, you’re all wet,” I teased, water dripping from my hair as our wet lips met just inside.

  “I brought dry clothes. It’s a little cold in here for Baby-T.”

  I didn’t think it was at all cold, blaming our chills on being wet. However, I did have a backup if she really insisted we needed the heat. The small tint heater I’d gotten for the van for chilly mornings was tucked away in the back of the, but I honestly didn’t think it was needed. “Let’s go up to the loft and dry off. It’s always warmer up there.”

  Tristan handed me Baby-T and climbed the ladder, taking him when I reached the last step. “It’s nice. No wonder you like it up here.”

  It wasn’t much, but it was much better than the bedroom with the Spider-Man curtains, and I had managed to make it homey. An old rug my mom was going to toss out covered the wood floor right in the middle. My hay bed was bigger than any bed you could buy and probably more comfortable if I had to say so myself. I had the best view of the country sky ever, and now I had the prettiest girl in the world right here with me. “I don’t really have much out here some chips, cookies, and jug of water, but I can run inside.”

  “I’m okay. Just cold,” she shuddered, placing Baby-T on my fluffy comforter in the middle of my bed, goose bumps up both her arms.

  Stepping between her and her backpack, I wrapped her in my arms, my lips meeting her damp head. “I’ll warm you up.”

  That’s about the time I jumped out of my skin, lightening hitting closer than I liked. Of course she laughed at me. “You’re such a pansy. I missed you.”

  Baby-T didn’t like it either. He squeaked from the bed, his little legs drawn to his chest and his little face scrunching, ready for the cry.

  “Oh, come here, baby. It’s okay,” Tristan said, her warm body leaving mine for him. Just like I wasn’t even there, she lifted her wet shirt over her head and picked him up. “You’re okay, buddy. I would never let anything happen to you.”

  I seemed to wear a constant smile when I was with her, with them. Once we dried off, we sprawled out on my bed, Baby-T sound asleep right in the middle covered with my blankets. I loved it and him. “He’s so tiny.”

  “He’s growing every day. I wish he would stop. I’d keep him this size forever if I could.”

  “No way. I gotta teach him to fish.”

  Tristan’s fingers wiggled below mine, a cute way to pull my eyes from her baby to her. “He’s probably not going to do that. I doubt if he’ll ever want to eat meat.”

  That sort of bothered me. I didn’t think it was right. “You’re going to push your beliefs on your child. That’s a little messed up. Men like their meat. We like to fish.”

  “He’ll do whatever he wants to do. I’ll show him what to see, but what he actually sees is up to him.”

  “Why do I feel like you’re not only talking about him?”

  “I’m not. Show me your gratitude book.”

  Shoot. I even moved the damn thing out of eyesight so she wouldn’t think about it. “Um.”

  “You haven’t been writing in it?”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “Too busy to say thank you? Too busy to be grateful?”

  “I would write the same thing every night. Besides you and Baby-T, there’s not a lot for me to be grateful for.”

  It wasn’t a lie. They were what woke me up with a smile every single day. Everything else seemed to be falling apart. Not that I was complaining. I supposed I had that to be grateful for. Even if I didn’t see it before, I saw it now. I’d much rather have been with them than my friends back in Cali. Hands down.

  “You’re hopeless, and you suck. It’s barely even raining.” Tristan complained, a deep breath of exasperation as she fell to her back.

  I laughed a little and tried to tickle her, unsure about the sudden frown. Until I looked up…

  “Ty, what is this?” she questioned, the photo of what I now knew was her family held between her fingers.

  I was caught off guard, unprepared to answer without time to think. “It—I—I.”

  “Where’d you get this, T? Did Clay hire you? Is this all a big fucking joke?”

  Wait…What? “No, of course not.”

  Her tone sounded angry, condescending, and a little louder than I liked. “Where did you get this, Tobias? It’s a very simple question. Even for you.”

  “I—I.”

  �
��I knew it. I knew all along there was something. I swear to God I did. I sensed it from the beginning. I’m such an idiot. I’m so fucking stupid.”

  Tristan jerked a shirt from her backpack while I sat there stunned, unable to think of anything intelligent enough to stay.

  It wasn’t until she scooped up Baby-T that I stopped her. “Tristan, wait. You’ve got it all wrong. I don’t know Clay. I’ve never talked to him. I swear.”

  “Where’d you get this photo, Tobias?”

  I sighed, not liking the way this was going. This wasn’t how I wanted to surprise her. “Is he okay here for a minute.”

  Tristan frowned more, her eyes shifting to Tobias, sound asleep in the middle of my bed. “Why?”

  “I want to show you where I found it.”

  “In the house?”

  “No, here in the barn.”

  “You swear you’ve never talked to Clay Wise?”

  “I swear on my life. I’d never do anything to hurt you, T. You have to know that by now.”

  Tristan exhaled, her shoulders relaxing with her nerves. “I’ve known you for two weeks.”

  “But you know, T. You do.”

  “I’m trying to know that, Tobias. I’m having a hard time right now. You weren’t honest with me about something. I’m not sure what, but I feel this tension. I know this is a thing right now and so do you.”

  As true as that was, I wasn’t the only one hiding secrets. “Yeah, I feel it. It’s a thing, but you weren’t honest with me about stuff either.”

  Tristan was caught off guard the same way I had been. She knew I had her in the same corner she had me. Her hand reached for me to take the photo I had clung to since I’d found it. “You know who this is?”

  My fingers wrapped around hers, taking her hand instead of the family portrait, my tone soft and my eyes trying to see hers. I had to lift her chin with a finger to get her to look up, but when she did, her body naturally leaned right into mine. Of course I embraced her with both arms and a kiss to her forehead. “You told me you named Baby-T after your dad.”

  “How do you know what my dad’s name is?”