Quick to the Hunt

by Cameron Dane

  Dryness turned Alex’s tongue to cotton, in the same way that happened when ninth-grade Jimmy across the street waved at Alex sometimes if they left for school at the same time. Alex cleared his throat and tried to get more saliva in his mouth. “I understand,” Alex said, forcefully sticking his chin up high. “Thank you, sir.” He then went and ruined his bravado by tripping over his too-big shoes when he stepped backward. Grabbing the wall, heat flooding his skin, Alex just managed to keep from falling flat on his ass. “I have to go remind my mom about Brain Blasters now, or I’m gonna be late for my bus. Bye!”

  Alex tore around the hallway and into his mother’s room, his shout dying on his lips as he saw her snuggled under the covers still fast asleep. A quick scan of the room showed no pile of jewelry on the dresser and no heap of clothes on the floor next to the nightstand, which told Alex his mom had come home, crashed fully dressed, and at some point Mack had gotten her out of her clothes. Otherwise the room wouldn’t be so tidy. Alex’s mom tended to leave little bundles of messes in her wake that she would then circle around and clean sometime over the next few days. Right now, Alex took a breath and sent up a little prayer that his mom wasn’t hungover.

  With a few steps, Alex reached the bed and then climbed up to kneel next to his mother. “Mom?” He nudged her pink satin-covered shoulder. “Mom? Can you wake up?” He poked her again. “I need to remind you about something.”

  Alice stretched and rolled onto her back, raising her arms over her head in such a way that it pushed her mussed bob of blonde hair away from her face. Blinking a handful of times, Alice finally focused her forest-colored stare on her son. “Hey, sweetheart.” She caressed his cheek, and Alex couldn’t help smiling at his pretty mother. “You look especially handsome today.”

  “It’s because of the Brain Blasters competition,” Alex said, bouncing on his knees. “It’s today. Do you remember I told you about it last week? It’s in the afternoon, right after lunch break, in the school gym.” With one more hop, Alex jumped off the bed. “You’re gonna come. Right?”

  “Of course I’ll be there.” As Alice yawned and raised her arms in the air, she pushed to sit up against the headboard. “I wouldn’t miss my baby’s chance to show off his brains and win a prize.”

  “Good. Okay. It’s at one o’clock.” After sliding his backpack off his arm, Alex dug into the bag’s outer pocket and came up with a flyer. “You can come find me right when you get there because it’s just gonna be parents and grandparents and people related to the kids competing.” He handed his mom a paper with the necessary information even though he’d posted one on the refrigerator a week ago. “The whole school isn’t gonna be there to watch or anything.”

  Alice kept hold of Alex’s hand. “All right, baby.” She tugged him in and pecked a kiss to his cheek. “You do good for yourself. Okay?”

  With a quick kiss to his mom’s cheek in return, Alex then swooped down, grabbed his bag again, and skipped backward to the door. “Don’t forget.”

  Rising right back up from her slouch to a sitting position, Alice said, “I’m getting up right now. Mack is gone? The bathroom is free?”

  “Yep and yep,” Alex replied cheekily.

  Alice jumped out of bed with almost as much energy as Alex. “Then I’m going in to take a shower right now.” On the way, Alice paused for a second at her dresser mirror to lean in and study her reflection, shrug, and then keep on toward the hallway. “Get going, honey” -- she swatted him gently on the tush -- “or you’re going to miss your bus.”

  “Right.” In a little mirror etched with Dolly Parton’s likeness that hung in their living room, Alex checked his hair and tie one more time. Everything still looked in place. “Bye, Mom!”

  As Alex ran for his bus stop, one thought played over and over in his brain: I’m so totally going to win this thing today.

  *

  Alex climbed three rows up on the bleachers in the gym and stood on the seat to search over the heads of the milling adults for familiar blonde hair. Come on, come on, come on. The timer on the scoreboard over the basketball hoop ticked ominously lower in big red numbers. It would eventually reach five minutes, signaling to Alex and the other Brain Blasters kids to take their seats on the stage. Where are you, Mom? Hurry up.

  The clock counted down to fifteen minutes and then fourteen. Suddenly Alex itched to cover his ears and block out all the happy, laughing moms, dads, grandparents, and even aunts and uncles of all the other kids in the competition. Deep down a part of Alex wanted to punch his classmate Zack, who probably had like twenty people here to root for him. Ten minutes ago Alex had smiled, enthusiastically shaken hands, and then taken noogies on the head from many of them, all the while promising he would bring his mom over to meet them as soon as she arrived. Now Alex couldn’t even look at Zack or the big group surrounding him without his throat closing up on him and his eyes feeling like he had to keep blinking or he might start crying like a big baby in front of everyone.

  As the truth finally sank in -- she’s not coming, again -- Alex folded onto the bleacher seat and dropped his gaze to the empty row below him, his mood sinking faster than a hot air balloon with a hole shot in it. He should have known better than to count on his mom by now, but she always surprised him just enough to give Alex hope she would show up to events that were important to him. But not today.

  Alex blinked, and a drop of wetness fell, hitting his tan slacks. Shoot. Swiping the next tear away with vicious intent, getting to it before it could fall, Alex ached to scream but silently ordered himself to get control before the competition started without him.

  Just then a big, strong hand and arm working the frame surrounding a wheel entered Alex’s line of sight. Alex whipped his head up just as Mack said, “I sure hope that’s the warrior’s silence of a man centering his focus for the impending fight, and not self-pity or nerves getting the better of you.”

  Alex shot upright. “Yes, sir,” he said, even as he searched for his mom. Surely they had come together. Alex hopped down to the bottom row of bleachers, his heart near to exploding now. “I’m getting ready for the battle.”

  “Good.” Nodding curtly, Mack rolled his chair to face Alex head-on and looked him right in the eyes. “Center yourself; concentrate on your answers and not on your opponents’ scores. Compete against your own best win. Make it about setting yourself a new standard to achieve, and you will win.”

  “I remember, sir.” Terrible thickness still nearly choking him, Alex slumped and studied the floor. “My mom isn’t coming. That’s why you’re here.”

  Mack reached out and drew Alex out of hiding with rough knuckles touching under his chin. “One of your mother’s friends had an emergency and needed help.” Shocking, gruff softness enveloped Mack’s voice. “Alice had to go to her. Okay? She called me to come let you know because she didn’t want you waiting or worrying about her.”

  “That’s not true.” The words left Alex’s mouth -- his gut, really -- in a cutting tone.

  Mack didn’t so much as blink. “Don’t ever call me a liar.” His very stillness riveted Alex. “Are we clear on that?”

  “Yes, sir,” Alex automatically replied, even though he noticed Mack hadn’t denied Alex’s statement. Alex’s mom had taught him manners, though, even if she didn’t always follow the ones about courtesy and keeping one’s word herself, so Alex didn’t challenge how Mack had worded his comment. Dipping his head, Alex offered Mack a real smile. “Thank you for coming to tell me.”

  Wheeling himself in a tight circle, Mack scanned the cavernous gym. “Since I’m on my lunch break, I think I’ll stay and watch the competition for a while, if that’s okay with you.” His tone slipped to casual, but Alex sensed -- or maybe hoped -- Mack cared about Alex’s response.

  Alex jumped off the bleachers to the floor, his shoes screeching against the surface with his sliding landing. “Yes, sir.” He skidded to a stop just shy of crashing into Mack’s chair. “Really?” For the first time ev
er, Alex curled his hands around the arm of Mack’s wheelchair. “You’ll stay?”

  Giving Alex a nearly imperceptible nod, Mack said, “For a while.”

  “Thank you!” Unable to contain his actions, Alex threw his arms around Mack from the side and pressed his cheek into the man’s hair. “Thank you.”

  “All right now.” Gruffer than ever, Mack withdrew but patted Alex on the arm. “Don’t get mushy on me.”

  Stiffening immediately, Alex locked his arms and legs in a military stance. “Sorry, sir.”

  Mack wheeled in reverse, putting some space between them. “I think it’s time for you to go take your place. Looks like someone is trying to get your attention.” He pointed, and Alex followed the line of his finger.

  “Oh. That’s my friend Zack.” Alex waved at the burly redhead beckoning him. “I’ll introduce you after the competition.” Wait. He said only for a little while. Alex shifted from foot to foot with each faster beat in his chest. “If you’re still here, I mean.”

  “We’ll see,” Mack murmured. When he added, “Go win first,” Alex’s heart went from skittering to soaring.

  He’s totally gonna stay for the whole thing. He just doesn’t want to say.

  Alex only said, “Okay!” and ran to his friend and to the stage. He had no doubt in his mind now. He would win this thing. I’ll win it for Mack. Alex wouldn’t make that guy regret coming to see him today for anything…

  * * *

  …The shatter of glass jerked Alex back into the present and upright in a shot. A slew of foul words coming from the kitchen had him grabbing his wire-framed glasses off the coffee table, his T-shirt off the back of the couch, and donning both as he strode toward the cursing. Moving at a rapid pace into the kitchen, Alex just managed to pull up short of stepping into grape jelly and its broken jar. Meanwhile Mack wrestled with a mop, broom, and dustpan with a long handle, trying to get them out of the wedge between the wall and fridge where he stored them when not in use.

  Goddamn it. The burn of a few choice sentences flamed in Alex’s throat, but he choked them down. He’d asked, begged, negotiated, and even tried to outright bribe Mack to let him equip this kitchen -- hell, the whole house -- with wheelchair accessible amenities, but the stubborn goat wouldn’t hear of it. Shit, Alex would have rather put the man in a whole new house, but Mack had refused that too. Looking back on his college days, Alex now considered it a miracle Mack had said yes to Alex installing ramps at the front and back doors, as well as safety bars in the bathtub. Mack hadn’t given a green light to a damn thing since then.

  Alex circled the table and came up behind Mack. “Let me get that for you.” Leaning over Mack’s chair, Alex grabbed the top of the mop handle. “I’ll take care of the mess.”

  “I’ve got it.” Glaring, somehow entrenching himself even more solidly into his chair, Mack yanked on the lower half of the mop handle. “I made the mess, and I’ll clean it.” He pulled again, creating a tug of war between them. “Let it go, Alex,” he said through clenched teeth.

  Alex dug into his position, grimacing when the wooden mop handle started slipping through his grip and the slow friction burned his hands. “Mack. Stop it.”

  “No, you stop.” With one punishing yank, Mack ripped the mop out of Alex’s hands. “I can do it.”

  A ferocious growl erupted from Alex’s gut. “Will you goddamn let me help you just once, old man! It’s fucking jelly on the floor. You are not throwing in the towel by letting me clean it for you.” His chest heaving, battling his emotions, Alex felt tight all over with every breath of air he sucked in.

  Snarling right back, Mack threw all the cleaning supplies onto the floor. “Do whatever the hell you want” -- with one turn of his wheels, he cleared the area -- “but you’re not even wearing shoes.” From his position now at the head of the table, he glared down at Alex’s bare feet. “Don’t think I’m going to sew up your feet when you fucking cut them all up on the glass.”

  Even as Alex crossed the clean side of the kitchen to get his sneakers from where he’d kicked them off by the couch, he called out, “You know you would too clean me up.”

  “Don’t get sappy, boy,” Mack snapped back, making Alex grin as he toed into his running shoes.

  Returning to the kitchen, Alex said, “I’ll get as mushy as I want.” He settled his focus on Mack’s inscrutable features, and the most tender, seldom examined places inside him naturally blossomed with sweet, welcomed pain. “You don’t scare me anymore, old man.”

  Mack snorted and made the sign of the cross. “Then it’s probably time to go ahead and buy the farm for good.”

  All the warmth inside Alex flooded out of him. He froze in place on his knees, a roll of paper towels in his hands. “Don’t even talk like that. I don’t want to hear you being flip about death.” Alex didn’t know how in the hell he did it, but he managed to hold Mack’s stare and successfully keep tears at bay. Huskiness crept into his voice, though, as he added, “Not around me.”

  “Then how about this?” Mack crossed his still-formidable arms against his barrel chest and homed in on Alex with laser precision. “I want you to go see your mother.”

  Every hair on Alex’s body lifted in alert. “No.” He grabbed the dustpan and busied himself with gathering broken glass and clumps of jelly. “It’s not going to happen.”

  “She’s making genuine progress this time, Alex.” The very softness in Mack’s tone almost gave Alex pause. “I don’t know if it’s the shrink she has or just hitting the wall one time too many, but she’s getting better.”

  Alex finished scooping up what he could and then grabbed the bucket on his way to the back door. “I’m happy for her.” Using the outdoor spigot on the back of the house, Alex filled the bucket and hauled it back inside. With one satisfying dunk into the water and slap of the mop onto the floor, Alex glanced at Mack as he began washing the floor. “It doesn’t mean I have to see her.”

  “She hasn’t gambled in any way, shape, or form for six months.”

  Alex grunted with the next swipe across the floor. He shot Mack a sideways look. “That’s because she’s in a corrections facility.”

  “Goddamn, boy.” Mack slapped the table with a resounding crack. “Do you think your mama couldn’t find ways to gamble in that place if she wanted to? Let me tell you something: you can barter a lot more things than money and cigarettes in prison. If her itch was so strong she couldn’t control it, she’d be making bets inside on what piece of food her cellmate picks up first from her tray during lunch. But she doesn’t. Alice now understands she has an addiction. She also understands winning the lottery or scoring a good night at poker won’t make her life perfect and problem free.” Mack grabbed Alex’s arm as Alex pushed the mop under the table. He forced Alex to look at him. “Your mother is making real progress and will be a different woman when she gets out this time.”

  Sweet images and memories of his pretty mother punched at Alex inside, fighting for freedom, but the gaping hole within from too many nights alone and too many academic ceremonies missed sucked down those pictures before they could get free.

  “I’m sorry,” Alex murmured. “It’s too little too late for me.”

  “Don’t say that.” Mack kept a crushing grip on Alex’s forearm. “If Alice truly believed you’d given up on her, it would break her heart.” Looking as harsh and untouchable as ever, Mack locked into eye contact with Alex. “It would break mine too.”

  The truth swept over Alex with the speed and power of gale-force winds. Holy hell. “You never stopped loving my mom.” He didn’t even have to ask for confirmation. Alex could suddenly see the reasoning behind Mack stubbornly choosing to remain in this home and leaving it virtually untouched over the many years. “You still love her, all these years later.”

  The glitter of blue diamonds warmed the usual pale ice in Mack’s eyes. “I do.”

  Gobsmacked, Alex leaned on the mop handle, stuttered to stillness. “Even with everything she did to y
ou?” Christ, during a lot of his teen years, not to mention plenty of times after Alex had left home for college and adulthood, Alice had disappeared from this house for weeks, even months on end, with nary a word. In a town the size of theirs, Alex knew -- and Mack certainly had to too -- Alice had temporarily lived with other men. “I don’t understand how you can let all that crap go.”

  “She never did those things to me,” Mack said, no anger in his voice or eyes. “She did them to herself.”

  With every memory of going into his mom’s room and finding her gone, fiery heat bubbled anew in Alex’s belly. On top of the personal cut of Alice’s choices, Alex could see himself standing in the kitchen as a teenager, bragging to Mack about his accomplishments as much as he could with the hopes that it would take away some of the hardness in Mack’s face. Hardness he knew his mother’s infidelity had put there.

  Alex’s mouth pulled down with ugly lines right now. “In the process of her destruction, she hurt you repeatedly. I don’t get how you can let it all go, just like that.” He snapped his fingers.

  “Listen to me” -- Mack blocked Alex when he made the move to continue mopping -- “because this is important. I have this hole in my gut because I held on to anger at your mother for too long.” Mack backed up but didn’t break eye contact with Alex. “I gave up the judgment two years ago and have spent time with Alice ever since.”