by Rick R. Reed
“I made him something familiar.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized I had opened the door for her to ask why I would know what was familiar to Jack. So I spilled it all, told her about the coincidence of not only already knowing Jack but having been on a date with him—and falling for him. I even added that our date was most likely on the same night as whatever horror befell him.
“Wow. You’re in a unique position, then, Beau. You kind of hold the key. Seeing you might trigger something, might open the door.” She shifted a bit. “I can’t say if that’s a good or a bad thing, but you being there might definitely knock something loose. Of course, my professional advice is that he see someone who’s skilled in treating his condition.”
“He won’t go,” I said.
“That’s obvious. But he might—one day. Especially if he remembers the trauma that precipitated the disorder.” She rolled her eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to slip into academic lingo.”
“It’s okay.”
She stood and handed me her teacup. “I really should be going. Thanks for the tea.”
“Thanks for talking with me. It helped. I need to get started on Jack’s supper for tonight anyway.”
“Good luck. You’re out of the familiar,” she said, reminding me that the dish I cooked for him yesterday was a one-off.
“But I always have the delicious.” I grinned.
“You’ll have to prove that to me sometime, Beau.” She started toward the door.
“That’s a promise!” I called after her as she headed out.
As soon as she closed the door, my phone began to ring. I picked it up, glanced down at the screen. Maisie.
“Hey, what’s up?”
Her voice was fraught with tension. “It’s Jack. He’s gone.”
Chapter 16: Emerging
Jack couldn’t believe it himself. He was outside. There was wind on his face, a little drizzle in the air, a snap of cold underneath it all that made him shiver. He’d worn only his denim jacket, no scarf, no gloves, no hat. But the cold and the air felt both good…and terrifying.
It had been ages since he’d done more than stick his head out of the front door to grab the mail from the mailbox. And now here he was, walking along the River Road. To his right, the river moved slowly, a sluggish brownish-green current. As a boy, against his mother’s warnings, he’d played along its shore, finding treasures now and then that the water churned up.
Ever since he’d awakened from his dream, the image had stuck with him. Beau, with the snow swirling around him. He was like an angel, powerful, beautiful, and yet fear-inducing. Something prevented him from embracing the image. There was something there, although Jack couldn’t say what. But it created in him an irresistible urge to see the man. This need went so against everything he’d felt for the past several years that Jack himself was astounded by it.
But yet it was there. He couldn’t deny it, even though he’d tried to ignore it. He had overheard his mother and Beau talking and knew Beau lived not far from them. He’d rented a place on the River Road. All Jack had to do was walk a couple of blocks, and here was the road and the river. Tracking down Beau’s place would be easy. River Road was a pretty empty stretch. There was one small commercial pottery on the road and an old diner, boarded up. That was it, other than the wharf at the road’s end, near downtown.
Beau had to live in the green-aluminum-sided house. That much Jack could figure out. What he would say or do if he actually knocked on his door or came face-to-face with Beau was beyond him.
He slowed as the house came into view. It was a simple house, two stories, with a wide front porch that ran around two sides of it, facing the river. On the porch was a swing and a couple of pots for plants, now fallow with winter’s chill.
He stopped, letting the rain, which had turned now to sleet, run down his face in rivulets. He was crazier, obviously, than everyone thought. He hadn’t the sense to come in out of the weather.
As he stood there, near a naked maple tree that provided scant shelter, a blue Prius pulled out of the driveway. He searched, with hope, for Beau’s face behind the wheel, even though he could see Beau’s yellow smart car parked next to the garage, which was separate from the house. Of course it wasn’t Beau. There was a dark-haired woman driving, and she was so intent on where she was going, she didn’t even see Beau standing there.
He was glad to be invisible. He thought that being permanently invisible would be a blessing.
As he stood there, a door opened above his range of sight. He might not have even noticed had he not heard Beau’s voice, calling out something like “Ruth!”
He looked up and could see Beau, finally, standing on a small porch above the garage. A little pug danced around his feet, and Beau was trying to contain it, to put on the leash and harness he held in his hands.
Jack stepped back and down the bank, closer to the river. There were shrubs there that would, he hoped, conceal him. Wordlessly, he watched as Beau leashed the little dog, and together the two of them navigated the stairs that must lead to a garage apartment.
Beau wore a dark blue rain slicker. Unlike Jack, he’d also donned a pair of gloves and a black knit stocking cap. Even from where Jack stood, he could see Beau’s face, ruddy from the wind and freezing rain.
He stayed as still as he could as he watched the man and the dog walk into the yard. The dog sniffed around and finally squatted, then looked up at her master as though to say “I’m done. Let’s get out of this rain.” The thought brought a smile to Jack’s face. The expression was so rare that he reached up to feel it with his fingers.
Well, he asked himself, you’ve come all this way. What now? And Jack honestly didn’t know. He supposed he’d had the idea he might gather up his courage and knock on Beau’s door, but what would he do then? What would he say? He was rusty when it came to talking to anyone other than his mother.
He knew he’d do nothing else today. This glimpse of Beau in his natural element was enough for him. He prayed that Beau, as he mounted the stairs, would not look over and see him standing there like an idiot, in the rain. He had no handy excuse for his presence. Besides, he was now so cold his teeth were chattering.
After Beau and his pup went inside, Jack turned to begin the trek back home. His mother, by now, was sure to have noticed him missing, and she’d be out of her mind with worry. For the thousandth time, he chastised himself for what he put her through, but he couldn’t help this today. He needed to get out, needed to see Beau.
There was something about the man, more than just the fact of his attractiveness and the lovely moss green of his eyes, that drew him.
Jack wondered, as he started toward home, what it was that compelled him. He mused that this sudden departure from the sanctuary of his mother’s house was either a sign of his further descent into madness or an ascent toward something better.
He kicked some pebbles into the road, frustrated because he wasn’t certain at all if he would ever come to know the difference.
As he walked, a yellow smart car raced by him.
Chapter 17: White Trash Mac & Cheese
White Trash Mac & Cheese
8 oz. elbow macaroni
1/2 cup sour cream
1/2 cup cream cheese, softened
1 1/2 cups shredded cheddar
1 cup frozen peas, thawed
1 can tuna (5 ounce) preferably albacore, packed in olive oil)
1 t red pepper flakes, more or less
Salt and pepper to taste
Preheat oven to 350.
Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Add plenty of salt when you first see bubbles appear.
In a bowl, combine sour cream, cream cheese, and 1/2 cup of the cheddar. Fold in peas and tuna. Sprinkle with some red pepper flakes, as little or as much as your tolerance allows. Taste and see if it needs some salt and pepper.
Drain pasta after it’s finished cooking according to package directions. Make sure to cook al dente or even a littl
e under (it will cook more in the oven). Add to cheese mixture. Pour macaroni and cheese into a greased baking dish (butter is a nice way to grease a dish). Top with remaining cheddar and bake for 20-30 minutes or until cheese is melted and golden brown.
Serve hot. Serves 2.
* * * *
I made it to Maisie and Jack’s in record time. I hadn’t even lingered on the phone to get any details from Maisie, such as how long Jack had been missing or how he’d managed to slip out without her noticing. The alarm at her call coursing through my system tingled, like electricity.
As soon as I pulled up to the house, Maisie flung open the front door, and her desperate face beckoned me inside.
Once we were in the living room, I asked her the question that had been on my mind on the way over.
“He’s just been gone, far as I can tell, for maybe an hour or less.”
We sat down, and Maisie lit a cigarette. “I’m still scared.”
She drew on it hungrily, as though it were a life-sustaining vessel instead of just the opposite. But I could understand her grasping for any sort of comfort.
“I know that’s not a long time, but he’s just never done this before.”
“Never? Really?” I found it hard to imagine a youngish, perfectly capable man never going outside. Again, this was not the man I had known back in Seattle.
She shook her head. “Not really.” She paused, and her mouth turned down in a frown. It was clear she was remembering something. “When he first came back, I think he thought things would be different and he would get out…or at least try to.” She took another drag and exhaled the smoke. It was like a fog around her face. “I watched him from the window, several times. He could never cross from the yard to the front sidewalk. I could see him trying, but it was like one of those invisible fences was there.”
I couldn’t imagine.
“So it’s not the amount of time he’s been gone that has me so worried. It’s just the fact that he is gone.”
“How did you not see him leave?” I added, “I don’t mean that to sound accusatory.”
“I just went to the store. I needed to get some groceries.” She shrugged. “It’s not like I need to stay here to keep an eye on him. As you know, I leave all the time.”
She stubbed out her cigarette and lit another one. My eyes were getting teary from the smoke, and I longed to open a window, but I didn’t want her to think I wanted her to stop. It was a lousy habit, but I figured it was the only comfort she had right now.
“When I got home, he was gone. Bedroom door open. No note or anything.” She looked at me as if I knew something. “Oh, Beau, where do you think he is?”
“I don’t know, Maisie. But he’s a grown man. He has his problems, that’s for sure, but he’s perfectly okay physically, right?”
She nodded.
I thought for a moment. “You know, I think this is a day you hoped would come. When Jack would leave the house, at least for a short time. When he’d get out on his own…”
“But not like this. I—”
I held up my hand. “Just listen. Let me finish. Maybe that day has come. And it’s jarring. It’s out of synch with everything you know about Jack as he is now. You probably expected a move like this to come gradually, right? Baby steps. You’d have plenty of warning, advance notice. And I’d think the same way. But who knows? Maybe today, unlike so many days before it, he just wanted to get out of the house. Maybe today was the day something different happened. And that could be a good thing.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. He just wouldn’t. The man could hardly muster up enough stamina to leave his bed, for cryin’ out loud.”
“Maisie.” I grabbed her hand and held it for a moment before letting go. “You don’t know that.” I looked out the picture window at the empty street. “What would help? You want to get in my car and go out and take a run around, see if we spot him?”
She looked down at the floor. “No. What if he comes home and no one’s here?”
“You want me to go look?”
“Oh, would you? I just can’t imagine why he’d do this.”
“It’s no problem, Maisie. I’ll go now.” I stood and groped in the pocket of my jeans for my car keys. I had just opened the front door when I saw him—Jack—coming down the street. He wasn’t dressed warmly enough for the weather, but otherwise he looked okay.
I closed the door hurriedly, hoping he hadn’t seen me. I wasn’t quite sure why that would matter, but it did. “He’s coming down the street,” I said.
Maisie leaped from the couch to look out the window. She stayed to one side, so I think she had some of the same reservations about being seen. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“He looks okay.”
“Except for that jean jacket! What’s wrong with him? It’s not even forty degrees out there today, and it’s spitting snow. He has a warm coat. He’ll catch his death.”
I smiled. “Spoken like a true mother.”
She hurried to the front door to fling it open, I presumed. I put a hand on her shoulder. Instinct told me to play this upcoming scene low-key. Daisy’s advice to “go slow” was foremost in my mind. “Why don’t we just sit down? Let him come to us?”
She looked at me as though I was out of my mind. And maybe I was. But ambushing him before he even got to the front door just didn’t seem like the right course of action. Neither did bombarding him with questions.
“Why? I need to see he’s okay.”
“He’s okay. You can see that. C’mon.” I led her over to the couch. Reluctantly, she sat down with me.
We sat there for two or three minutes that seemed to stretch out for much longer until finally Jack opened the front door and came in, bringing with him the smell of cold and damp. He closed the door behind him and then peered at us curiously. I suppose we both looked as Maisie did—expectant, relieved, worried.
He didn’t smile. “What?”
Maisie leaned forward, and I had a feeling something like “Where have you been” was poised on the tip of her tongue. If I was a betting man, I’d add that she wouldn’t even wait for an answer before following the question up with the revelation that she had been “worried sick.” It was what my own mother, God rest her soul, would have said. Mothers were all alike in some respects.
I spoke first, trying to keep things low-key, casual. “It’s cold out there,” I remarked.
“Good observation.” He let his gaze travel over both of us for a moment. “I need to get out of these wet clothes and under my warm comforter.” He sort of nodded to us and headed off to his bedroom. The door clicked closed behind him.
“That’s it?” Maisie looked at me, astounded. “That’s all we’re gonna get?”
“Yeah, it might be.” I told her. “Look, I have no answers, and I certainly don’t have any experience in dealing with trouble like Jack’s, but my sense right now is to give him his space. Whatever prompted him to get outside might be a good thing. Can you see that?”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“I mean, maybe we should be celebrating instead of sitting here wringing our hands and worrying about why.”
Maisie let loose a burst of nervous laughter. “It’s a big step. I just want to know what prompted it. So maybe we can encourage more big steps.”
“I get that. But we also have to consider that what he just did might have been terrifying and probably was. So let’s kind of just let him be for a bit.”
Maisie looked at her watch and then got a strange look on her face—her eyes widened as though something had just dawned on her.
“What?” I asked
“It’s tonight. I’m supposed to be meeting your dad for dinner.” She shook her head and let out a burst of startled laughter. “I completely forgot. And I had so been looking forward to it.” She glanced down at her watch. “I don’t even know if I have time now. I should probably just call him up and postpone.”
I could read the disappointment in he
r face that came with this latest revelation. Yet another obstacle thrown up by caring for my shut-in son, I could imagine her thinking.
“No. You go ahead and go,” I said, hoping my smile was reassuring.
“Oh, I barely have time to run a comb through my hair and put some lipstick on,” Maisie protested.
“You’ll look beautiful.” I thought for a second. “Wait a minute. You said meeting my dad. Isn’t he picking you up?”
She looked down. “It was my idea. Just in case I needed to get away.” She smiled at me, beseeching me, I think, for understanding.
I nodded. “Please, go.”
She stood. “If you’re sure it’s okay?”
I nodded again.
“Then I better get a move on. I’m already going to be late.”
Her mention of the time made me think I should have been at home, prepping Jack’s dinner for tonight. “I probably need to get home myself to get his supper ready. No worries—I’ll just go grab some stuff and come right back.” I wasn’t even sure what I was going to make. I had been ready to begin my planning when Maisie’s call came through.
“I just went to the store,” Maisie said. “Why don’t you have a look and see if you can throw something together from the stuff I bought? It’ll be a challenge.”
She grinned at me, and I was grateful to see her smiling. She moved toward Jack’s bedroom door.
“You sure I shouldn’t go in there and talk to him?”
“Sweetie, I’m not sure of anything. If your heart tells you to talk to your son, talk to your son. I just suspect he’s as shaken up about the sudden shift in behavior as you are, if not more. My gut tells me to give him some time. Just a little. Maybe if he’s up when you get home from work, you can talk then.”
“How’d you get so wise?”
“I’m not so wise. And I may be all wrong. You do what you think’s best.”
Maisie veered away from Jack’s bedroom door. We both heard the TV go on behind it. Maisie rolled her eyes. “I think you’re right. I’ll go get ready.” And she disappeared into her own bedroom.
