by Renee Carr
I chuckled, shaking my head. “I would definitely choose silence. The one good thing, though, was the fact that every time I felt like I was gonna fall asleep standing up, her singing woke me the hell up. It was like throwing cold ice water in somebody’s face.”
“At least the night shift is over, or the triple night shift,” Melissa grumbled. “I hate those shifts. When you have to do multiple ones in a row, and you end up just working straight through because we all know that shift change does not mean you’re done working.”
I yawned, leaning back against the wall for a moment. “Yeah, but that’s why I volunteer to work during the day shift too. It’s easier to stay on task and function when you don’t have to change over. I’ve kind of gotten used to taking naps in the doctors’ rooms. The beds aren’t the most fantastic but everything’s always clean. And I get to sleep in a bunk bed which I never got to do as a kid.”
Melissa laughed. “You’re the only person that I know that would pick up two extra shifts, just to avoid having to go home, and then get excited to sleep in a bunk bed.”
I shrugged with a smirk. “What can I say? I’m a child.”
Melissa laughed. “You are pretty much the furthest thing from a child that I know. You take care of everyone, except yourself, of course.”
“Speaking of, it’s the middle of the day and I should probably get some lunch going,” I said, looking down at my scrubs. “And change my clothes.”
“All right,” Melissa said with a yawn. “I’m going to take a nap. And then I’m going to get up, eat something unhealthy, watch some ridiculous television, and then go back to sleep. I’m not in for another 48 hours.”
With a smile, I stood up and walked into the kitchen. “Don’t exert yourself too much. We wouldn’t want you hurting yourself.”
“That’s a promise,” she laughed. “I’ll talk to you later.”
I hung up the phone with a smirk and walked over to the window, looking down at the backyard. My mother was down there, her dark hair shimmering in the sunlight, wheeling herself around in her wheelchair near the gardens. We had put a patio in that extended down to the garden path, to allow her to be in her favorite spot. She was always out there, anytime she had the chance. Looking down, I picked up a picture of my father; it was a picture of him and me when he had taken me on a fishing trip one time, in the national forest. It was one of my favorite memories and I felt a pang in my heart missing him. There was no feeling in the world comparable to your father just disappearing and never finding anything out about where he went. It was a cross between sadness and fear.
Part of me envied Melissa, knowing that she was going to go curl up in her bed and sleep with no stress. I was happy that I got out of the conversation without her giving me a lecture about not sleeping. I should go lie down, but I had far too many things to do to go to sleep during the middle of the day. The laundry had gotten backed up, I had dinner to make, and bills to take care of. Melissa had always gotten on my case for not taking care of myself, but I think she was starting to understand that whether I wanted to be carefree and asleep or not, it really wasn’t up to me. I had to do what I had to do.
With a sigh, I turned around and grabbed the empty laundry basket, walking down the hall into the laundry room. Setting it on the shelf, I bent over and began to take the clean laundry out of the dryer, one piece at a time. Believe it or not, that was my thinking time, folding the clothes and letting my mind just run through all the things that it had been compiling through the course of the week. At work I didn’t have time to think about any of those things. I worked in the ER and even though it was a small town, we were the only hospital for miles. Our emergency room was constantly full. It was part of the reason why I took the job there to begin with. I liked the constant go, the ability to not think for a while.
In fact, while Melissa was off for the next 48 hours, I had picked up a shift for that night. I knew that I would be tired, but it was robotic to me. I would kick into gear as soon as I walked in the door and the adrenaline started running. In the meantime, I needed to get the laundry done and dinner on the stove. I wanted to make sure that dinner was ready so all that my mother had to do was heat it up. She was more than capable of doing those things, or most of them, but I liked to know that she was taken care of. It took the stress off of me while I was away.
“You look awfully tired,” my mother said from the doorway.
Looking over, seeing the roses lying in her lap and the gardening gloves on her hands, I smiled. She looked just like she had 10 years before, only now she was in a wheelchair. “I’m okay. I’m used to being tired. I’m pretty sure I live my life tired. But even if I could sleep, I wouldn’t; there are far too many things that need to be done. Like getting those beautiful roses into a vase so that they can fill the room full of good smells.”
Looking down at the flowers in her lap, my mother smiled. “This was a good year for the roses. They bloomed just like they had the first time your father planted them.”
I finished folding the last shirt and followed my mom into the kitchen. Pulling a vase from the top shelf, I filled it with water and took the roses from her. She was right, they were the best blooms that I had seen in years and the sweet fragrance reminded me of when I was a child and my mom used to fill the house with flowers. It had always been her favorite thing to do.
After trimming them, I set them in the water and put them on the center of the table. My mother and I stood there quietly for a moment, admiring them. I could tell she wanted to say something, and she was feeling me out for the right moment.
“I’ve been thinking about it, and I wanted to see what you thought about me finding someone to help me. I can hire someone to take care of me. You don’t need to do it. I put far too much stress and responsibility on you. You need your own life.”
I kept my eyes glued to the roses. “It’s not necessary. I like knowing that you’re taken care of. Besides, who knows, maybe one day we’ll look outside and Dad will come walking back up…”
My mother grunted and turned her wheelchair, pushing herself toward the doorway. “Libby, it’s dangerous for you to think that way. Regardless of why your father isn’t here, he’s gone, and neither of us can count on the idea of him coming back. It’s been years, and I need you to start letting that go. It’s not healthy for you, and it’s not healthy for our relationship that I have to say things to you like this.”
Just hearing the words coming out of her mouth made my stomach drop and put a lump in my throat. I didn’t want to hear that; he was my father, and I knew he had left on purpose. But I also knew getting upset with my mother for saying something that was honest and probably realistic wouldn’t help anything either. So, I sucked it up and didn’t let on to the fact that I was upset.
My mom had been through a lot over the years, but between losing my father and ending up in a wheelchair, she still managed to have a sunny disposition. I knew that she had to have a certain mindset about things in order to stay that way. In the condition that she was in, it was hard enough already to wake up every day with a positive mindset. I knew that if she held on to some foolish dream that my father would come back, it would destroy her every single day that he didn’t.
Part of me often wondered if she blamed my father for the accident. After weeks had gone by after my father’s disappearance, and the police had exhausted their resources trying to find him, it was inevitable that people started to talk. They believed my father had left on his own volition. That it was nothing more than a husband leaving a wife and child. While we both knew better than that, hearing it upset my mother greatly. I could still remember the day that she was in the accident. She had gotten a phone call, one that she whispered about in the other room, trying to keep things away from me as much as possible.
When she had hung up the phone, there had been silence, a silence that I hadn’t experienced since then. She had kissed me on the forehead and told me she needed to go for a drive, and I was old
enough to be at home by myself. I was a teenager. So, I watched as she took the keys from the rack and walked out the door, closing it behind her. Before she left, I stood at the window watching her even though she didn’t know, and I could see her crying, desperately losing it. The next time I saw her, it was in the hospital. She had been in an accident, and though it wasn’t because she was speeding or driving recklessly, or even emotional behind the wheel, she still seemed to blame herself for it. In reality, a farmer from down the road had fallen asleep at the wheel and drifted over into her lane, clipping the front end of the car. She was pinned inside and her spine was injured to the point where she could no longer walk.
As my mother wheeled out of the kitchen, I turned around and stared at the roses on the table. I couldn’t help but wonder where my father was at that moment, what he was doing, if he was thinking about us at all. I knew that there were people that thought my father had died, lost in the state park, never to be found. But there was something inside of me that told me differently. I just knew, and I didn’t know how, but I just knew that he was still alive. The same thoughts had haunted me for years. I wanted to desperately know what had happened the night that he disappeared.
Things were not always black and white, but whatever happened in the woods that night, it had everything to do with why my father wasn’t here. I wondered what could be lurking right inside the forest, and what that creature or person did to my father when he disappeared. The questions used to scare me, but not any longer. There were a lot of scary things in the world, and I wasn’t about to fold to fear.
3
Christian
I tipped the whiskey bottle, pouring some into Eric’s tin cup, and then set the bottle down between my feet. Using my fingers, I picked up a clump of fish and popped it in my mouth. “You always were good at cooking fish out on a bonfire, Brighton. Tastes just like you’re cooking it in a pan at the house. Seasoning and all.”
Brighton tipped his head in thanks. I looked over at Eric. “And the whiskey. You thought of everything.”
Eric swallowed a big mouthful of fish. “You didn’t think I could come out in the woods with the two of you and not bring a bottle of whiskey, did you? What, you think I am crazy?”
We all laughed, night drifting upon us, and nothing but good vibes as we sat around the bonfire eating our catch for the day. Brighton finished up his food and rinsed his plate off with some of the water they had pulled from the river. He dried it off and put it away in the chest of camping gear that we brought with us. “I remember the first time Christian tried to make fish on the fire…”
He was really good at putting me on blast like that. “Okay, I have to stick up for myself here. Nobody gave me instructions, I had never done it before, and was expected to have it finished by the time everybody came back to eat. That’s a lot of pressure.”
Brighton snickered and shook his head. “You put the whole fish, scales and all, on the fire. We couldn’t even get the things open to eat the meat from the inside.”
I shrugged, not caring that he was picking on me. “Hey, I did the best that I could. I had two little brothers, and a whole bunch of older guys to make sure we were fed and happy. I wasn’t very old. I have to say I panicked.”
Eric put down his plate and patted his belly. “We forgive you for the fish. All in all, I think you’ve been a damn good big brother.”
Brighton lifted his cup, smiling. “I have to agree. Damn good brother. When Mom died, one of the only memories I have of that is you bringing me and Eric into the bed so that we didn’t have to sleep alone. You guys were much more mature than I was at that point, and I didn’t really understand things. I did know that you shielded me from that. From all the bad parts of it anyway.”
I looked down at my hands as I talked, thinking about our mother. “There is no reason for any of us to remember the funeral part of it. Unfortunately, we weren’t babies, but at the same time, we weren’t adults. It was hard for us to fully comprehend what was happening, and I wanted you to look back and remember something positive, not something negative.”
Eric took a swig of his whiskey. “Well, it’s a good thing we had you then. There was a lot of bad going on at that time, including how Dad was. We needed that calming spot.”
“So, your business is doing really good, but do you plan on expanding it at all?” Brighton asked, obviously changing the subject on purpose.
“I hadn’t really thought about it,” I replied. “Originally, I started the business so that I could have something of my own. Something I could hand down to whatever children I may have one day. I guess kind of a legacy, but also a fun way to make a living and be in control of that part of my life. I also feel like my store is successful in our little town, but if I had tried to expand, I would’ve been taken down by the big guy. There’s a Walmart or sporting goods store on every corner in most bigger areas.”
Eric stood up and put the cap on the whiskey. “Well, I don’t know about you Nancy boys, but I’m headed to bed. Otherwise, I’ll sleep all day tomorrow and get no fishing in. Or photography.”
Brighton stood up too and nodded his head. “I agree, I’m pretty beat.”
I followed suit and went into my tent, zipping up the front of it and lying down on the small, inflated mattress that I had brought with me. The guys had given me a hard time for it, but I didn’t really care. The last thing I wanted to do was spend the rest of my trip with a sore back or a hip problem because I had lain on the hard ground. Pulling my arms up behind my head, I stared up through the mesh window at the top of my tent. We were in enough of a clearing that I could see directly up at the sky.
The forest was absolutely perfect with the nighttime bugs chirping and the clear, moonlit sky above me. My mind fluttered off to other things: life, business, and what I wanted outside of that. I knew I wanted a relationship eventually, a family and some children, but I knew that everything came in time, and I was willing to wait for the right moment.
A sound not far away of twigs breaking caught my attention. I sat up for a moment, listening closely, waiting to hear it again. I knew there were bears out there in the woods who could’ve possibly been attracted to the fire burning. The last thing we wanted was to be attacked by bears while we were trying to sleep. I sat there for quite a while, but I didn’t hear another noise, so I lay back down, assuming it was just some squirrel or wild animal running through the brush.
As I stared up at the sky, my eyes slowly began to close and I fell into a deep, calming sleep.
* * *
The mornings were always so perfect when I was camping. The sun would slowly wake me up as it lifted through the trees, the sounds of the birds chirping and tweeting, giving me a quiet but poignant wake-up. The smell of fresh air and cool mornings on my skin was exactly the kind of thing that I lived for. I climbed out of my tent and stretched my arms wide, looking around for any sign of bears as usual. You never wanted to surprise a bear. But everything seemed fine, everything in its place, and the fire was completely simmered out. It was the perfect morning for a hike.
I went to Eric’s tent and unzipped a portion of the door. “Hey, I’m going for a hike. You want to go?”
Eric rolled over on his blow-up mattress, wavering right and left. He grunted at me and shook his head, pulling the covers up further over his face. “ I just want to relax this morning. You go have fun with nature.”
I tossed him a walkie-talkie, watching it bounce right off the edge of his bed. “Keep that on just in case anything happens. I’ll have the other end of it.”
“10-4, good buddy,” Eric mumbled.
As I walked toward Brighton’s tent, I could hear him snoring inside and decided just to let him sleep. I wasn’t worried about going on a hike by myself; I had spent my whole life in the woods, loving the wilderness and everything that went along with it. I had learned safety in the woods from the time that I was old enough to walk, and I always watched out for myself. I tried not to be careless even
when my curiosity got the best of me.
I headed out, carrying a day pack with me just in case I went far enough that I needed to stop and eat or drink something. Sometimes when I wandered the woods, I had a tendency to not pay attention to the time. About an hour into my hike, just enjoying the off-trail walking, pointing out the different flora and fauna to myself, I found a cave nestled in a large trove of boulders and rocks. I hadn’t known there were any caves out there, but instantly my curiosity was piqued. I decided to explore, figuring the worst that could happen was that I couldn’t see inside well enough and ended up coming back out.
I carefully made my way into the cave and walked through the nature-made path that led down a narrow passageway. At the end of the passageway was a rounded doorway of sorts, which led into an open area of the cave. It was very big and it was pretty dark. Even with my flashlight I had a hard time moving around without tripping over a rock. I shone the light around the space, looking for a continuation, but it seemed I had reached a dead end. My only way out was going back the way that I came. It wasn’t that big of a deal; it was cool looking around down there, but I knew it was probably smart of me to go back out to the brightly lit forest anyway.
Turning to head back out, my feet shuffled to a stop as I heard a whining echoing through the cave. It was a low whine, a whimper of sorts, coming from the corner. I turned slowly back around and flashed my light toward the sound. In the corner, shivering, shaking, and with fear in its eyes, was a very large wolf. It was fascinating, as the wolves had gone extinct from the area long before I was old enough to come camping. But there it was, larger than anything I had seen before, staring at me with its big, golden eyes. Those golden eyes entranced me. It was almost as if it was looking at me, asking me for something—as if it was more than just a wolf.
