Leveling 5: When Water Has Overtaken Land: Episode 5: The Road Home (Leveling: Season One)
Page 6
“We are friends. Let me prove it to you." Dan gestured toward the end of the hall. "Come to the kitchen. I bet you miss my cooking.”
Beckett considered wrestling the keys away. He'd shove Dan against the wall and take them, his fists ached with the want of it. Beating someone, anyone, Dan, would be a relief. He was too mired in pain to pull up out of it — like a drowning man flailing in stormy waves, he wanted to lash out, cause more, make it worse.
Dan said, “Here’s the thing, I made some food. It’s good too, pasta, marinara, meatballs. You’ll like it, warm and—”
Beckett’s stomach-brain overtook his animal-brain. He all but growled when he spoke. “I’ll come in for one minute, for food, but I want my keys.” He stalked by Dan down the hall. When he stepped into the kitchen Sarah was already filling a plate with pasta and red sauce. She gestured to a chair and without a word placed the plate in front of it. She filled a glass with ice and water and set it beside the plate and tossed down some utensils.
Dan slid into a chair across from Beckett and began to eat.
Sarah sat down beside them and began to eat.
Beckett was so thirsty he had to tend to that first. He grabbed the glass, drained it, set it down, and stared at a spot in the middle of the table while Dan refilled it. Beckett gulped it down. He needed more water, but he was too famished now, hands shaking, past hungry to near fainting. He had worked through the hunger with pure furious angst until he'd almost forgotten, but now he remembered. It hit him with a full force punch in the stomach. He had to have food. He couldn’t be ceremonious, or dignified, or even refuse out of anger. He ripped the bread in half, stuffed it in his mouth, chewed twice and swallowed, then devoured the pasta with big gulps of heaping forkfuls. Dan and Sarah exchanged a glance and ate quietly.
When Beckett got to the end of the plate, Dan jumped up, spooned another giant helping onto it, and pushed it back in front of Beckett who looked at it dazed. Then he picked up his fork and ate that plateful too.
Finished, Beckett got up with a slam, carried his plate to the sink, washed it angrily, and returned to stand behind his chair. “Thank you for the food, as you can see, it had been awhile, but it doesn’t change anything. I want my keys so I can go.”
Dan, elbows on the table, still holding his fork asked, “Where you going?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere else.”
Dan nodded, scrutinizing Beckett's face. “What did Luna say when you told her you were leaving?”
Beckett stood for a second glaring at Dan then he shook his head. “I don’t know, nothing, she didn’t—”
“She said nothing? You told her you were leaving, and she just said nothing?”
Beckett looked down and shook his head. “It didn’t get that far, I left—”
“You left angry. You came home from war, saw Luna, and left angry, and now you’re here, running away. Where you going, man? Your home is back there.”
Beckett’s jaw clenched and unclenched.
“Beckett, I need you to sit down, so we can talk this out before you go.”
“I can’t. I just —" Beckett gripped the back of the chair, twisting on the wood. "I don’t know what I’m doing. I just—”
Dan shoved the chair back from the table with his foot and gestured for Beckett to sit down.
The force of the chair shoving into Beckett's front caused a collapse, of his straight up fury, spine, legs. Beckett dropped into the seat. “I don’t know what I’m doing at all.”
Dan said, “True that.”
“What am I going to do?” Beckett put his elbows on the table and dropped his head in his hands. Sarah got up quietly and left the room.
Dan dragged his own chair around the table, closer, put his hand on Beckett shoulder, and bowed his head. “I’m not sure which part of your tragic life you’re questioning — the friends rallying around you, the aunts who adore you, Luna? The baby that is coming? Your baby, man. A baby. And I haven’t known you for long, but you seem to be the kind of guy who pulls your shit together when called on. You found Luna in the ocean. You lived on an Outpost. But look at you now.”
Beckett clamped his eyes shut. “I screwed up royally. I wasn’t thinking . . . I was just so mad.” His head hung low between his shoulders.
“Anger isn’t bringing out the best in you.” Their voices were quiet, ear to ear, voices filling the tight space between them.
“I haven’t been the best me for a long, long time.” A tear rolled down Beckett’s nose, into his lap, between the two men's knees.
Dan wrapped a hand around the back of Beckett's head. The side of his forehead pressed to Beckett's forehead. “It’s time to change that, you’ve got a baby on the way.”
“How can I bring a baby into this hellhole of a world? We aren’t winning this war. The water is coming.”
Dan nodded, warm stubble scratching against Beckett's cheek.
“Did you hear the eastern ridges are burning?”
Dan said, “No man, I didn’t.”
“They are, they’re fucking burning, the whole forest. The roads are full of refugees, crawling in cars, hiking on foot, walking away from the fires, headed from the interior to one coast and then the other coast where guess what awaits them?”
Dan said, “Water.”
“Water, hot stagnant, the land over crowded, and people will get sick, and die, and I can't figure out how to keep on . . .”
Dan said, “Me neither. I can’t imagine finding any hope in that scenario.”
Beckett leaned back in his seat, Dan remained leaned forward, forearms on his knees. Beckett said, “I got on that bus. I met my regiment, and then we were deployed to protect the power plants. Six years without any combat and suddenly, I’m fighting. They dropped our asses in the zone and told us to defend it with our lives.”
“That sucks.”
“The only thing that saved my ass was that no one was dropping the big bombs, got to protect the resources. It was street by street, hand to hand sometimes. Trying to get to the top of buildings so I could shoot from above . . . God.”
Dan stared down at his hands. “That sounds awful.”
“It seemed like every day I had to do something worse than the day before.”
“You never mentioned you were away fighting in the east, we didn’t know.”
Beckett sighed. “I didn’t tell you, didn’t want to worry you.”
“Same.”
“I feel like it’s different though. That shit I was doing was better left unmentioned. Luna on the other hand, a baby, someone should have told me.”
Dan nudged the water glass within Beckett's reach. “I screwed up. Luna screwed up. Your aunts. All I can say, in our defense, we were trying to help you.”
Beckett balked, and Dan put up his hands. “I get it, it’s uncool to say it like that. We knew you were miserable, and we wanted to take some of the load off of you. Knowing Luna was pregnant, and you couldn’t be there, seemed like too big a load.”
Beckett nodded. He gulped down the full glass of water, placed it on the table, and spun it a couple of times, thinking. “I see that. It was still wrong, but I have been in a load of trouble for months. And then getting home. Getting home was . . .” Beckett shook his head slowly, remembering it in vivid detail. “I got robbed, get this — while my pants were down around my ankles, taking a piss.”
“Wow Army, I don’t even know where to begin with that. I imagine that’s got to be the bottom.”
“Maybe. But maybe the depths will keep getting deeper. The water is coming. We’re all just scrambling for higher ground.” Beckett looked in Dan's face for the first time since he had arrived. “And that’s what I mean, what am I going to do? How am I going to scramble with a family?”
“You’ve always had a family. It’s just getting bigger.”
Beckett moaned.
“You need to talk to Luna.”
“God, Luna, how is she ever going to forgive me?”
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�Probably the way every man who deserves it gets forgiven, by begging for it.”
“Imagine how she feels after what I just pulled.”
Dan nodded. “I can imagine, but she loves you. And she needs you. I think you’ll be able to work it out.”
“Phew.” Beckett shook his head slowly.
“Yep. Phew is right.”
“A baby?”
“A baby. And if I haven’t made it clear, I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t think you could handle the news, but look at you, practically a professional.”
A sad smile spread across Beckett's face. “I’ve proven I’m good at handling things?”
Dan clapped his hand down on the table with a chuckle. “That was total sarcasm my friend, you apparently can’t handle much at all. You stink like garbage, you’re dirty, practically muddy — is that a flea on your head? How can you be at my table like this? Thankfully the girl carrying your baby can handle anything life throws at her.”
“Yes I suppose that’s true.” Beckett’s smile faded. “So, can I have my keys now?”
Dan said, “After you shower. With vigor.”
Chapter 22
After Beckett raced away on his motorcycle, Dan called Luna. “He’s on his way back to you, and I don’t want to say much. Don’t want him to think we’re in collusion again, but I believe you should give him a—”
Luna said, “Yeah, I get it, I agree. I’m waiting for him on the porch. And yes, I agree. Thank you for calling.”
“He’s showered too, you’re welcome.”
Luna hung up and stared out over the driveway. She had made a promise to herself she wouldn’t look away.
Chapter 23
Beckett’s arms shook from the effort of the drive. He was exhausted. More than exhausted physically although the physical exhaustion had been enough. Traffic had been terrible, stop and go, and during the stops he had trouble keeping his head from lolling forward. How would that have been to fall asleep astride his motorcycle in the middle of the road? After that he had tried not to stop, to ride up the shoulder, and weave in and out of the parked cars.
One hundred percent he should have spent the night at Dan’s. There was no reason at all for him to be on the road in his condition. But also every reason. He couldn’t sleep, not until he fixed this mess he had made. Unbreak all the hearts.
But worse than physical, he was emotionally exhausted. He knew he needed to talk this out, explain himself, beg for forgiveness and make amends, but he couldn’t imagine having the strength for any of that. But he had to. Even though he wanted to curl up in a ball and do nothing but sleep for the next week. He had to make this all better.
Leave it to someone in a big damn mess to make it twice as big. He was a dumbass. He had been trying not to be, but there was no denying it.
About half way home the rain started. The road began to wind up the mountain. The visibility went to almost zero. His only good luck in days was that Dan had loaned him a raincoat. Unluckily, he couldn’t keep it over his knees. Sopping didn’t go far enough to describe how wet he was.
Chapter 24
Luna waited. The porch was wide and wonderful, her favorite place. Dark and cool on hot days, sheltering on rainy days. It had a couch covered with pillows for lounging. She had imagined many a day that she would lie there wrapped around Beckett. It was a goal. There was also two beautiful rocking chairs. Sitting in them reminded Luna of being on the water. She lolled on them. Like spinning in a current with twists, she rocked, eyes out on the horizon, over the valley toward the direction of the sea. She had to use her imagination to see it, but she could imagine it glinting. Waiting.
Also coming closer. She could just wait here and the water would come. But she reminded herself not to say that to Beckett. Ever. And really, the side of this mountain, they were safe. If one wanted to be as far away from the water as one could be, this house was the place.
Now she wasn’t lolling, she was actively waiting, with her whole body, stiff, alert, listening. She pet Shark while he slept, and when he started biting her hands, wrists, elbows, and feet, tossed him into his crate ‘to rest’ because sometimes, “Sharky needed a break,” as Dilly would say. Which meant they were all exhausted by the little puppy’s demanding personality. Luna did not want Beckett to be greeted by Shark this time. He would get to meet the puppy on his own terms.
It began to rain. A warm downpour, drenching and loud. Beckett was on a motorcycle in this mess. So she added worrying to actively waiting.
Chapter 25
Beckett’s wheels churned up the driveway’s gravel. He pulled close to the porch, but could still barely see the house — except lights were on. That was good, they would be home. This time. He shook his head, helmet rocking on his shoulder, rain pouring down the visor. He swung his leg off the bike, pulled the helmet off, and turned to the porch — there — Luna.
She stood at the top of the steps, under the roof, just outside of the rain, beautiful. He dropped to his knees. Right there in the mud. Rain rolling down his face in rivers, raincoat hem in the puddles, helmet falling to the ground with a splash. He was collapsed with the pain of his inside torture. “I’m so sorry.” He had to say it loud because the rain was deafening, all-surrounding, isolating.
Luna stepped down to the bottom step and grabbed ahold of him, wrapping around his head, clutching him to her rounded stomach. Rivulets of warm water gushed down their bodies. She held him tight.
He wrapped his arms around her back, holding, pulling her closer, crying into her stomach — he begged again, “I’m sorry, God, I’m so sorry.”
His hold was intense, strong, pulling, holding her so close and tightly as if he wanted to pull inside her body or pull her inside his — “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” Their separation had been too long. He felt foreign to her, rejected. He wanted, needed, to crawl inside her, make her his home.
The strength of his need forced her back — she collapsed down to the bottom step with a splash. Leaned on his arms, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and clutched the back of his raincoat, pulling him even closer. His boots shoved into the mud, pushing him forward, climbing her body. The rain poured down, obscuring sound, sight, thought. There was only Luna under Beckett, the two wrapped tight around each other in the rain.
“I didn’t mean it.” His words were drowned by the water. His boots shoved into the mud. Propelling him forward. Holding. Tightening. “I love you.” He nuzzled into her shirt, her chest. His face hidden from sight, his words spoken into her skin. “Please forgive me. I’m so sorry.”
Then his shoulders shook with the pain and rage of the last days.
She held on, within his arms, feeling the force of his quaking, cracking, heart, soul, body, and waited, for his terrible energy to dissipate.
He stopped pulling and pushing, climbing and begging, and stilled, finally, sopping wet, drenched through, boots dug into the mud, but finally still.
And then with deep low breaths they stayed there, Luna holding Beckett on the steps to his home, the never ending water pouring down.
Luna’s hands rubbed down and around the rubberized raincoat on his back. She stroked the stubble on the back of his head and lifted her head to kiss the top of his.
After a few more moments he said, “I’m sorry.”
Luna stroked her fingertips down his jawline and pulled up his chin. There was pain and sadness and fear in his eyes, but in his cheek, under her fingertips, held the promise of his dimples. She could barely remember the last time those dimples had been aimed at her — but that was a lie. How could she forget their last morning together? He was looking down over the railing of the ship as she paddled. His eyes full of awe and love and a smile that said it all, full dimples shining — he was happiest with her. That much was true.
In answer to his I’m sorry she said, “Welcome home.”
He nestled into her chest again and his shoulders heaved again with tears, so she held him even longer.
Beckett was spent by the emotions, the ordeal, the mess, and the trauma. His body gave up in a way, and he went soft and heavy and almost fell asleep right there with Luna’s legs wrapped around him, his boots shoved into the mud, and rain pouring down his back. But just at that moment when he was perfectly halfway between wake and sleep, like that moment of sunset when the clarity of the green flash answers all the questions, wham — the baby, a new being that hadn’t even been addressed or barely noticed, kicked.
Beckett jerked up, shocked and confused for a moment. “Whoa, Luna.” His hand reflexively went to her stomach, but hovered an inch above. He looked up at her face, his eyes wide.
She nodded.
He slowly placed his hand on her stomach.
She said, “Wait there.”
And after a moment the baby rolled from one side of her stomach, jutting, rolling back across to the other side, a lump jutted out, and then disappeared.
“Does that always happen?”
“Only when the baby is awake. It probably heard your voice.”
Beckett looked down at her stomach, accepting that as true. “We need to get you out of the rain.”
Chapter 26
As soon as Beckett and Luna’s feet hit the top step of the porch, Dilly and Chickadee bustled out of the house and wordlessly wrapped Beckett and Luna up in towels. You could tell they were trying to be exuberant, yet cool and not talk too much. Beckett asked, “Forgive me, Chickadee? Dilly? I’m so sorry.”
Chickadee said, “For what dear boy?” Then she chuckled. “Okay, fine, I can’t pretend that wasn’t an awful homecoming, you were a total ass, but of course, forgiven. What about you Dilly?”
Dilly smiled. “For what dear boy?”