by Lucy Snow
I banished those thoughts as best as I could while running the curving path down toward the lake that my cabin overlooked. I hoped for a moment that it would be completely frozen over, but I knew there was a patch that was more resistant to cold due to how the ground and the water met.
Sure enough, as the patch came into view, I could see water all the way down. No respite for me today. I stopped at the water’s edge only long enough to get rid of my shoes and drop my towel before diving in.
Nothing woke me up like cold water, and this water was just on the right side of freezing. I forced my eyes open underwater, seeing a little of the murkiness in front of me before my air gave out and I surfaced to breath as heavily as I could.
I felt the cold rattling my bones as I swam around and around in small loops of the still-unfrozen patch, feeling the inner warmth that was the only hold out against this level of frigidness.
It was invigorating.
On the way back to the cabin, wrapped in my towel, my teeth chattering a staccato beat, I looked up, straining to see past the tree cover, and still feeling the same sense of an impending storm. The clouds had darkened way too much for this early morning, and the entire forest gave off a gloomy sense of foreboding, like it was drawing in a breath right now to save it for later.
Definitely a storm coming; it was inescapable now. I looked at the rough cabin as I got closer, trying to see if there were any weak points I needed to reinforce with the old hammer and nails before the winds and the snow came, but couldn’t find anything glaring.
It would be a rough ride, but the tough little house would probably keep me safe. I might feel a little bit like Dorothy in during the tornado, though, I mused as I closed the door behind me and rubbed my hands together.
After lighting the fireplace and starting to heat a kettle of water, I dried myself off and got dressed, deciding to check my computer one more time before getting back outside and finishing my storm preparations - I needed a bit more food before I could feel ready to spend a couple days cooped up inside the small shack.
Nothing again on the computer — even though the satellite internet was spotty, I could see that my suppliers had no issues with customs, my shippers had received the products on time, and customer service reported that everyone was happy with a minimum of returns.
After opening up my bank website and checking to make sure my investments and accounts were in order, I set down the computer once again, resolving not to bring it out till my regular evening status check.
The kettle had gotten close to boiling, and I used the water to make coffee and heat up a couple hard boiled eggs, enjoying my breakfast while looking out the window at the oncoming clouds.
Just as I was about to head out the door and check the traps I’d set yesterday, thoughts of fresh meat running through my head, I heard an unfamiliar sound piercing through the quiet of the small room.
I stopped dead in my tracks. It had been weeks since I’d heard that sound, and for a moment I didn’t know what to do.
It was my phone. Ringing. I’d almost forgotten that phones could ring. I’d almost forgotten that I’d kept charging the thing even though no one called me, and I liked it that way.
I turned back to the desk and stared at the phone sitting next to the computer, out of sight and forgotten till just now.
It kept ringing.
I wanted it to stop, but it stubbornly refused, and I thought for a second it was getting louder and louder in its obstinacy.
I finally picked it up and accepted the call without looking at the screen — if someone was this persistent, they’d get at least a minute of my time. Time was one thing I had a lot of around here.
“Eames,” the voice on the other end said.
Of course. “I’m here. What’s this about?” I stayed standing. I wasn’t going to let this take long.
There was a low chuckle from the other end. “It’s good to hear your voice too. Where are you?” He sounded older than he had before, but maybe that was just because it had been so long. I buried the pit rising in my stomach. He certainly knew how to push my buttons exactly the wrong way.
“Nowhere you need to know. Is there something you need? I’m a little occupied around here.”
“Tell whoever she is to get out of there, you’re busy for now.”
“That’s funny; but it’s not like that. I’m alone. And, as I said, occupied. Was there anything else? Or was this just a social call?”
Another chuckle, this time quickly paved over by a wave of coughing that made me reflexively push the phone away from my ear until it passed. “You don’t sound good.”
“That’s why I’m calling.”
“Oh? What’s wrong?”
“I’ll tell you more about it when you get here.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Listen, Eames, I get it.” For the first time in my life, the way he said that actually suggested that this time, he really did get it. “I know you’ve been off on this journey of yours, and I totally understand it.” He coughed again. “Hell, I even respect it.”
That last part was new. “Can you repeat that? You’re breaking up.”
“Wise-ass. You heard me the first time.” He coughed again. “Get your ass down here. We need to talk.”
“We don’t have anything to talk about, I thought I made myself clear last time.” Last time was 3 years ago, and even mentioning it still brought up fresh memories of the shouting and the silence and the reproachful looks.
“You made yourself clear, but now things have changed. And it’s time for you to get a real job, Eames. Stop gallivanting around the world and settle down, make something of yourself. You can’t keep living off-“
“Don’t talk about money with me.” I glanced over at the computer still on the desk. “I’ve got plenty of that. You never-“
He cut me off, and I could hear the exasperation in his voice. “You have responsibilities here, Eames, and it’s time you started paying attention to them. The world didn’t stop just because you want to find yourself. Meridian didn’t stop. The business didn’t stop. There are things you need to take care of, and you can’t do that from wherever the fuck you are right now.”
I shook my head before realizing that he wouldn’t be able to see me. “I haven’t heard any good reason why I should come see you yet. Got anything better?”
Another wave of coughing. “You’ll come, Eames. I know you that well. You want to know why?”
“Tell me. I can’t wait.” I realized then that I was holding my breath. How did he have such a hold over me after this all this time, over all this distance?
“Because you’re a Beckett, and being a Beckett comes with responsibilities. I’m not going to be around here forever, and we need to talk. So this one time in your life, you’re going to show up when your father calls.”
My mouth stayed clamped together, my face flushed with anger.
“I’ll expect you here in 3 days,” he continued. “That should be enough time for you to wander out of whatever brothel you’re holed up in and clean yourself up so your mother can at least pretend you’re living your life respectably.”
And then the call ended.
I looked around the empty cabin as I set the phone down, fuming. I don’t know how he was still able to do that to me. Even from far away, all he had to do was reach out and call and he could upend my entire day.
I clenched my fists together till the knuckles were white, and contemplated jumping in the lake again just to try and wash away this feeling I had, but I managed to get things back under control.
All his talk of responsibilities and making a real life for myself was broken record stuff — my father had never understood my need to travel and see the world, to experience life before I got back to family obligations. If I ever did.
I still wasn’t ready — if there was anything I knew in this world, it was that.
Still, as my eyes fell over my computer and I thought aga
in about the work I’d done around the world, the business I’d built, the money I had coming in, and how little that seemed to satisfy my father, I couldn’t help but feel the bile rise in my throat.
I should have stayed put. I should have gone out and checked the traps as I’d planned, and eaten a good hardy fresh meal before battening down the hatches and getting ready for the oncoming storm.
But, almost mechanically, almost without direct control, that wasn’t what I did. I gathered my stuff, packing the cabin up with a speed I wouldn’t have assumed possible given that I had lived there for weeks now.
After glancing around one last time to make sure I had everything, I hefted my backpack and closed the door behind me, locking it and trudging down the path.
I headed back toward the lake, a sense of worry that I wouldn’t come back this way growing in the back of my mind as I got further and further from the cabin. I stopped at the water’s edge again, looking up at the angry sky as it warned me of more to come soon.
“You really think this is going to get your head screwed on straight?”
“I don’t know that. I just know that what I’m looking for isn’t here,” I shrugged. “I’ll try and find it somewhere else. Plus, it’ll be a good way to-
“What the fuck does that even mean? I swear, you kids these days, with your feelings and your journeys and your self discovery.”
I didn’t say anything. What could I add to that? I knew what was coming next.
“In my day, self discovery meant getting a job and putting in a full day’s work, not traipsing around the world tapping on a computer.” He picked up my laptop bag. “You’re gonna make money with this?”
“Yeah, Dad, it’s not unheard of. I can work from any-“
He held up a hand. “Save it. I don’t want to hear it. You have a job here, at the company. You can start Monday. No travel required. In fact, we have a place you can live too. I won’t even charge you that much rent.”
He thought he was being very clever. “That’s not the point, Dad-”
“What is the point, Eames? You don’t think what I’ve built is good enough for you?”
“That’s not it-“
“Then what the fuck is wrong with you?” He whirled around like a tornado. “How could you do this to your mother?”
I knew he was baiting me, and I hated myself for taking it, but he was my father. I couldn’t just disappear without talking to him about it. I owed him that much. “I’ll come back and visi-“
“Sure you will.”
I walked around the table and got my bag. It felt heavier than when I packed it, like my father had stuffed it with the weight of his disappointment in me.
“All the things I’ve built here, son, all of them were because of you. For you and your mother. I sacrificed so much, and this is how you repay that sacrifice?”
My shoulders fell. I didn’t have the strength to argue with him on this one after all. None of this was mine, and I couldn’t live with that. It was too much responsibility, too much for me to carry right now.
And it was much too difficult to put that into words he would understand.
I didn’t have time to waste here, not if I wanted to get back to Meridian before snow came down in buckets. After another moment watching the peaceful lake through the slowly falling snow, I walked along its edge until I came around the corner and the shed came into view.
I half-hoped someone had broken in and stolen it, but the lock was stiff but otherwise working, and inside the shed my car sat, pristine and ready to go.
I opened the garage door and shoved my bag into the trunk before settling in for the long drive back to civilization.
Before the lake disappeared around the curving unpaved road, I pulled over to the side and took a brief look back at my home for the last 7 weeks.
I knew it - I could feel it. This time was different. I wouldn’t be back.
CHAPTER 03 - AVERY
The bus ride was slow, and it barely felt like we were making progress. Occasionally I’d pull out my phone to check the map and see how much further we had to go, but even when I got service up in the winding hills, I couldn’t really get a sense that we were actually getting anywhere.
The snow was coming down harder now, and I could hear distant thunder — it was too grey out to see any arcs of lightning. The inside of the bus had heated up almost immediately, and several times the driver had asked if I was warm enough. We’d made one stop along the way, for snacks, and I’d taken the opportunity to get my bag back from the luggage compartment. I didn’t really need anything from it, I just liked having it close to me. The driver seemed to understand.
I spent most of the early part of the trip with my forehead pressed against the window, looking out at the murkiness and glad that I was safe and warm in the bus. I tried pulling out my phone to read, but the rocking back and forth and the changing speeds made my head hurt after a few minutes, so back to the window it was.
It was amazing to me how the landscape changed when you gave it a fresh coat of white paint. What had been distinct colors all merged into various shades of grey, indistinct shapes that all kinda meshed together.
It was beautiful in a different way, even if it was a little tough to enjoy as a storm bore down on us. It was something I wished I could share with someone, but the driver was off in his own world.
Someone closer to my own age, I meant. I looked around the bus for the hundredth time, and still there was no one else in any of the other seats — as if by looking one more time I could conjure up someone to talk to, someone to look out the window with.
“Everything’s gonna be OK,” I heard the driver’s voice from the front of the bus. I looked forward and saw his smiling face in the mirror. “Looks like the storm’s gonna get worse, but we’re gonna push on. You all good?”
“Yup,” I smiled back, giving a thumbs up. “All good back here. Holding it together.”
“Great. Warm enough still?”
“Still warm enough.”
“Good to hear. We’re getting to the hills soon. It’s a bit of a windy trip even on a regular day, but this time it’ll be a little rougher. If you, uh, need a bag to, uh…” He trailed off and then held up a small brown paper bag. “I got them right up here if you need one. No shame in it, I’ve used them before myself.”
“Thanks,” I said, weakly, and waved back, settling back against the rough cushion of my seat.
There was a sense of dread that felt like it was pooling all around me, and only some of it was coming from the storm raging outside. I knew that every mile we drove got us closer to Meridian, which I was looking forward to, but I also knew that it got me closer to my family.
Any strength and resolve I’d had about confronting them while I was still at school had started to evaporate as we got closer and closer to home, and I could already tell that by the time I got there I’d be wavering. Hopefully not enough for them to be able to influence whether I came back to school for my last semester, but I couldn’t be sure.
Of course they had the right intentions for their daughter, but it was the way they expressed those intentions that drove me up the wall. Sure, they wanted me to be, above all else, safe, and happy ran a distant second to that. On a parental level I could totally understand that, especially after what had happened to Naomi.
But this settling down and getting married thing…I mean, really? I was just about to turn 23, who got married at 23 in 2017? Almost Unheard of!
I’d needed my space, needed to get out of there. Seeing my parents, knowing their history together, it was all just too much. I understood that back in their day, it made sense for high school sweethearts to get married right after graduating and begin their lives together, but that just didn’t happen now, at least not nearly as often as it used to.
We’d moved on from that. Sometimes people never got married! I laughed, remembering the looks of shock and horror on my parents’ faces when I’d said that to them. The though
t of not getting married! Gasp!
“What about children, Avery? What about settling down and having children?” My mother fumed. “You can’t have children without getting married!”
“First off, who says I even want to have children? I’m 19!” Their jaws had already hit the floor by the time I closed my mouth.
My mother gasped, trying to form the words, but no sound came out. “I had your sister when I was 22, young lady.”
“And that made sense for you at the time. Things have changed, Mom. People don’t settle down that quickly anymore. Some do, of course, but it’s not expected like it was before.”
She sat back and processed this, and I could tell she decided to file that conversation away for another day and turn to another angle. “But why do you want to go to college?”
I looked at her like she’d sprouted another head. “Because that’s what you do after high school, Mom! You get a job or join the military or travel, but mainly people go to college! That’s how they get ready for a career!”
“I just don’t really see the purpose in all that. I mean, once you get married you won’t need to…”
I laughed. “It all comes around to that, doesn’t it? ‘Once I get married.’ It’s the same thing over and over around here.” I leaned in. “Look, Mom, Naomi’s gone. She’s gone and she’s not coming back. I know you want to keep me safe, but keeping me here and not letting me experience things for myself isn’t the way to do it, OK?”
Right around then was when my mother threw up her hands and got up from the table. My father tried to ‘talk some sense’ into me, but clearly, it hadn’t worked. I left the house for New Hampshire State University a couple weeks later, and our relationship was never the same.
They resented me for not letting them ‘take care’ of me, and I resented them for trying to pigeonhole me into their outdated sense of how girls should live their lives. We weren’t about to see eye to eye on it any time soon.
