by J. M. Pierce
So this is how it ends? he thought to himself.
He opened his eyes and looked up; the sting of the cold water on them barely causing a flinch. He could see the outline of the moon drifting farther away from him, and bathed in its ethereal light, prepared himself for the end. As he sank, his mind subconsciously played scenes from his life. The images of people he’d known over the course of his short life passed by as if they were images on single frames of film; all but one. His mother was the only constant that he’d had in his life.
He regretted many things, but none quite so much as the fate he’d left for his mother. She would never know what happened to him. For the rest of her life, she would never know and have to live with it.
As the light above him grew dimmer, he pulled his right arm down, followed by his left. He tried to kick, but there was nothing there. With every ounce of strength he had left, he brought his arms to his side and faced his palms towards the black below. With a weak pulse, he was pushed upward. Breaching the surface of the water, he could only free himself to the waist. He dropped back into the water and immediately pulsed once more. Again, he failed to get his entire body out of the water. Remembering from when he was a child, he rolled onto his back and put himself into the dead man’s float. The energy he had left allowed him to summon small pulses that pushed him slowly towards the shoreline opposite of the boats.
After what seemed like a lifetime, he felt the back of his head brush against something solid. Forcing himself to roll over, he could barely keep his face out of the water. Not even able to look up, he planted his hands and knees into the semi-hard surface below and began to crawl. With his feet still in the water, he collapsed. He could feel his consciousness leaving him. Living the moment as if he were in a dream, he let an exhausted grin confirm his victory. Today was not going to be the end.
“Not today, Mom,” he whispered. “Not today.”
With the whisper, his mind, along with his body, became still on the shoreline.
Chapter 5
He awoke to the sound of water gently splashing on the shoreline. With his head throbbing and body aching, he struggled to fight through the fog that sat thick in his mind. He opened his eyes and realized the he was lying on a muddy bank. The first bit of sunlight was now filtering through the trees only a couple of feet away from him. Branches hung over his head, hiding him from the blue sky above. The moments leading him to this spot came back to him harshly. Panicked, he sat up and looked along the shoreline for the area that he had impacted. His eyes stopped on a spot a half a mile away, across and diagonally from where he now rested. He could see a good number of people walking the shoreline, but it was far enough away that he couldn’t make out the exact number.
“Oh God,” he whispered.
He rolled back over onto his stomach and began to crawl towards the tree line in front of him. As the last inch of his body entered into the timber, a helicopter flew overhead and continued past him across the lake. His heart began to thunder in his chest, feeling as though it was going to explode, and he was paralyzed with fear. He found himself holding his breath. While it was obvious that he hadn’t been seen, the thought of what would have happened if he had been was instantly in his mind.
Pounding the ground with his fist, he scolded himself. “You really are an idiot, Test.”
He looked down and noticed that his shirt and jeans were torn in several places. His arms were adorned with cuts and scrapes, and his hands puckered from the hours spent in the water. Not yet feeling safe, he army crawled a little further back into the trees. After a short distance he wrapped his arms around a tree, and with his muscles burning, slowly pulled himself up to a hunched over stance. For whatever reason, the image of Cliff standing from the couch, with knees creaking, came to mind.
‘Now I know how it feels, old friend,’ he thought to himself.
The thought made him begin to chuckle which immediately turned into a loud laughter. Immersed with emotion, the laughter slowly began to transition into tears as he leaned his back to the tree. He took several deep breaths and tried to compose himself.
Wiping the tears from his eyes, he surveyed his surroundings. The underbrush, while not thick, was littered with tiny branches. The trees were spaced far enough apart for him to walk through, but many branches hung low and inhibited his line of sight.
“No easy way out of this one,” he mumbled to himself.
He began to walk through the trees, dipping under branches and occasionally tripping over a fallen limb. He followed the shoreline away from the impact area, and as he walked, tried to think of anything that could be normal again. He realized that he should be at work right now, and wondered, should he make it out of the forest without being caught, if he’d even be able to return. Grabbing the next limb that presented itself, he swiftly snapped it in two and threw it back to the ground in frustration.
“I bet Enrique thinks that I quit. Nah, he probably thinks that I went on a binge.”
Then he thought of Alyssa. He thought it cruel that he was given the chance of normalcy once again, only to realize that in his life, nothing could ever be normal. He thought of how beautiful and sweet she had been the night before. He kicked himself for letting his emotions get the better of him.
“Why couldn’t you just answer the questions and move on!” he spoke aloud, kicking at the ground in front of him.
Suddenly he heard voices and instinctively dropped to a knee while scanning his surroundings. He couldn’t see exactly where the voices were coming from, but he could make out the conversation to his right a short distance away.
“Mom, I’m cold,” said a child’s voice.
A woman’s voice was quick to reply. “Here, put on your jacket.”
Test slowly stood and began walking softly in the direction of the voices. After about ten feet, he could make out movement through the trees. The area ahead was much brighter than where he stood, indicating a clearing. As he took another step, a voice came from his left.
“Can I help you there, friend?”
Test spun to see a man in his thirties with a thick beard and mustache standing about ten feet away from him. He was a large, muscular man with an obvious look of concern on his face.
“Hello, sir,” replied Test, out of breath from surprise.
The man postured and spoke in a low and stern voice. “Hello.” He paused. “Now, I’ll ask you again. Is there something that I can help you with?” As he asked the question, he looked to his right towards the well lit clearing through the trees.
Test struggled to think of what to say. Knowing that he could be starting a story that would be hard to finish, he replied. “No sir. I was just riding my bike and crashed,” he rubbed the back of his head as he spoke. “I hit my head and must have been out for a while.”
The man glared at him suspiciously. “You broken?” he asked.
“I don’t think so. Just a little sore,” replied Test as he looked himself over.
“Where’d you wreck?” the man asked.
Test paused for a couple of seconds, briefly looking the man in the eye, and then replied, “I’m not really sure. My heads a little fuzzy.”
“Don’t think it rained this morning. Why’re you all wet?”
Shook from his question, Test stood awkwardly in silence.
“You remember your name?” asked the man.
“Tes…” he stopped his voice abruptly. His body was instantly overcome with a flash of heat. “Chance--Chance Johnston sir.”
The man stared at him suspiciously for a moment. Test couldn’t believe that he had just slipped up so severely. The silent glare of the man was maddening and just as Test was about to walk away, the man finally spoke.
“Where do you live?”
“In town sir; in Saratoga,” Test replied.
“My family and I were just packing up our camp. I can take you to the hospital if you need?” asked the man, his voice and movements still stern and cautious.
&nbs
p; “I think I’m okay,” replied Test.
“How about home? I suppose I could get you there.”
Test was hesitant to say yes for several reasons. He didn’t know who, or what, the man was that stood before him. While he was offering help, the man was postured and ready to defend his family if he needed. Was he a police officer, game warden, or even an undercover agent? His mind began to race with wild possibilities, the majority of which were extremely remote. Still, he didn’t know how else to get home. If he denied the offer, there was the chance the man would let the authorities know that someone was walking around the lake injured. That was all he needed was to have a search party out looking for him.
Test ran his hands through his hair, taking care not to brush the open cut on the back of his head. Right now all that he wanted was a hot shower, a warm bed, and some sleep.
“Yes sir,” Test replied with a nod. “I would appreciate that.”
*****
The ride back to the hotel was excruciatingly long. The man and woman had sat in their seats like stones on a river bank, only occasionally looking over their shoulder with a cold glance. The little boy had quickly fallen asleep in his booster seat, leaving a deafening silence that was as heavy as the ride was long. Test had never been happy with the Silvan Motel, but the sight of the dilapidated sign did provide some comfort.
As the car pulled into the parking lot, the man looked into his rear view mirror and asked gruffly. “What room?”
His focus elsewhere, Test was startled by the shattered silence.
“I’m sorry sir, what?” he asked nervously.
“What room are you in?” replied the man impatiently.
Test’s eyes met the man’s in the rear view mirror. His thick eyebrows were forked hard between his eyes which were wide with intensity.
In the pressure of the moment, Test became fearful of the man and was hesitant to tell him his room number. Instead, he hurriedly motioned with his hand toward the lobby.
“If you could just drop me off over there,” he replied. “That would be fine.”
The man quickly jerked the steering wheel to the left and accelerated through the pot-hole filled parking lot. His wife gripped the dash and shot him a look of concern, but quickly looked away as her husband returned her look with a sneer and clinched teeth. He applied the brakes aggressively, forcing all passengers to brace themselves. Lurching forward in his booster seat, the little boy awoke from his slumber.
“I’m hungry,” proclaimed the young one.
Turning in her seat, the woman patted her son on his thigh gently and replied, “Pretty soon, Wyatt.”
“But I’m hungry now, mommy.”
“Wyatt! That’s enough!” shouted the man angrily. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands; alternately squeezing and twisting forcefully. As he glared at Test in the rearview mirror, he his breathing had become noticeably more labored. Suddenly the man turned in his seat and faced Test. “Get out.”
“Sir?” asked Test.
“Get out!” interrupted the man. “Something about you don’t feel right.”
“Now, Sam,” said the wife as she touched the man’s arm.
He flinched aggressively. “Don’t,” he replied to his wife. Turning back to Test, he stared with grinding teeth. “I did what I said I’d do. You’re home, now get the hell out.”
Test reached for the door handle, and as he lifted it, spoke softly. “Thank you for the ride. I’m sorry for the inconvenience to your family.”
“Mommy, I’m hungry!” screamed the boy.
The husband and wife sat silently while Test opened the door and stepped out of the car. The door was barely closed before the car took off towards the street.
Test stood dumbfounded, disturbed by the man’s sudden spike in hostility. He watched the car turn off and as it disappeared from his sight, he noticed a figure standing opposite him on the other side of the street. He could see it was a man of smaller stature. His skin was black and his hair was tight to his head. Test struggled to make out more detail, but his tired eyes seemed unable to focus properly on their target. He watched the figure curiously for a matter of seconds, taking a couple of steps toward him and then stopping. The man returned his stare while standing with his arms to his side and his thumbs hanging on the pockets of his khaki trousers. His clothing seemed dated and out of place. Slowly the man raised his right hand into the air. As Test raised his arm to wave back, a truck passed between the two of them. The event took only a fraction of a second, and in the blur of motion, Test blinked and the man was gone. Test found himself holding his hand high in the air, his arm frozen while his eyes scanned the sidewalk frantically.
From behind him, a door opened and a woman’s garbled voice resonated.
“What are you waving at, Mr. Johnston?”
Test turned to see a middle aged woman standing in the doorway with a cigarette hanging from her lips. He turned back away from her and scanned the street once more.
“People have been calling for you all morning, Mr. Johnston. Is everything all right?” asked the woman.
Test turned back to her.
“Thank you,” he replied, disconnected from her comment. With his mind swimming, he turned from her and walked away.
He walked across the parking lot to his room, continuing to look over his shoulder every couple of steps, expecting to see the young man behind him. As he reached his room, he pulled his wallet from his pocket; its contents soaked and tattered from the nights events. He pulled his card key out and a bead of water fell from the corner. Knowing the chances of the key working were slim, he inserted it anyway. As he pulled it from the slot, the green light quickly flashed. With eyes closed, Test let out a prolonged exhale of gratitude.
He opened the door and walked into the dimly lit room and noticed the message light on his phone flashing brightly. Rays of sunlight were streaming through the curtains and refracted off of the shattered mirror, sprinkling the walls with shards of light.
Once he shed his damp clothes, Test let his mind melt under a long hot shower. With his head leaning against the wall, he could have easily fallen asleep standing up.
Test exited the shower feeling a little better than he had. He put on some comfortable clothes and then sat on the edge of the bed. Staring at the phone, he watched the message light blink incessantly. Curious but fearful, he lifted the receiver and pressed the silver button on the phone to retrieve his messages. The first message, he had expected. It was Enrique from the night before.
“Hey, Chance. I’m really sorry about tonight. I didn’t mean to pry. Had I known about your Mom I would never have asked. Anyway, buddy, I just wanted to say again that I’m sorry and I’ll see you in the morning. Okay? Bye.”
His voice was deep with emotion and regret. It actually made Test feel a little guilty because, in reality, his story was a lie. In the heat of the moment that was the story that came to him, and while he couldn’t have told them the truth, looking back now he knew that it could have been on the lighter side.
Moving to the next message, the phone beeped. There was a brief silence, and then came a voice that caught him completely by surprise.
“Hello, Chance. This is Alyssa.”
Test began to rub his forehead with his free hand. He felt the rush of attraction flow through him. Her voice was soothing, airy, and gentle.
“I was just calling to see if you were feeling better. Uncle E. feels pretty bad about tonight. I don’t think he meant to hurt you. Anyway, call me back if you want. I’ll be up late so don’t worry about the time. Okay?” There was a long pause. “Call me? Goodbye.”
Test hung up and stared at the phone, surprised to realize that he was smiling. Alyssa was a conundrum. At first glance, she was an outgoing, outdoors loving girl with a rugged look to her. While these things were true, she was much more. She was soft spoken and innocent. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself not to, he couldn’t help but think about her.
&nbs
p; His mattress was old and lumpy, but as he pulled back the covers and climbed into bed, the weight of the blankets was enough to bring a hint of comfort. With a sigh, he raised his arms above his head while resting on his back. Staring at the swirl textured ceiling, his eyelids quickly grew heavy, and with a flinch, his conscious let go into a deep sleep.
Chapter 6
The farm was immaculate, and Test walked up the driveway in amazement. The roof, which once lay partially inside the framework of the house, was now angling perfectly towards the ground and covered with black shingles that glistened in the early morning sun. The grass that once was to his knees was now perfectly trimmed, and irises grew along the edge of the walkway in an array of colors. He walked to the door, which at his last visit, was hanging by a single hinge. Now firmly positioned in the frame, the door was painted a stark white, and the gold door knob was polished to a mirror finish. It turned effortlessly in his hand and the door almost swung open by itself into a quaint living room which felt as though it were inviting him into the home.
The interior of the house was simple and homey. A floral print couch occupied the far wall, and a pair of high backed chairs with wooden base frames faced the picture window next to the door. Test walked to one of the chairs and took a seat. Reclining in the chair, he looked out the picture window. The view was so breathtaking that it could have been a painting. He marveled at the sight of the barn which stood majestically, framed perfectly by the window. It was painted the cliché red and white, and looked as if it were just built yesterday. The clouds above the barn appeared frozen in time. Next to the barn sat the blue Ford pickup that also appeared to be so brand new, it looked as though it had just rolled off of the assembly line the day before.
