Chapter 2
Thunk. The log split and fell to the sides. Sweat dripped off Hank’s chest as he pried the axe blade out of the trunk he used as a break for splitting wood. Placing another log vertically on the break he brought the axe up in a flowing arc and down again, splitting the log in two. A shiver went through his body as wind blew from the north, carrying with it the promise of frost. It was still crisp out, despite being June, as summers come late to Nova Scotia. Muscles bunching, he yanked the axe back out.
At eight inches over six feet tall and easily close to three hundred pounds, he was a towering man. It had been years since he had actually weighed himself though, those things didn’t concern him. Luckily, most of the weight was muscle, the type of muscle you get from hard labor, not from working out. His arms and shoulders corded with thick muscles, same with his thighs. He carried a little paunch in his belly, but all in all, he was in excellent shape for someone pushing forty-five.
Taking a moment to wipe his forehead clear of sweat, he brushed a hand through his brown locks. The hair slicked back easily, drenched in sweat. Ruggedly handsome, his face had chiseled lines and was tanned from prolonged exposure to sun. Light blue eyes peered out below bushy eyebrows and above a blunt, crooked nose, which had been broken at least once, but not crooked enough to detract from his face. Two-day-old growth created a dark shadow along his jaw-line and above his full lips. His wife, Jennifer always called them “kiss me” lips. His lips curled in a half smile as he thought of Jennifer. He missed her greatly. It was five years ago she had died, although it felt it was like yesterday they were laughing and teasing with each other in the house.
“Dad?” Sim called from the side of the house. Sim was his son, well, Jennifer’s son, from her first marriage. His son, Patrick, had died during childbirth, along with Jennifer. Sim was how Jennifer always called him, short for Simon. Sim had been eleven when he and Jennifer got married. Before, Jennifer had been a single mother for eight years, so he was truthfully the only father Sim had ever known. It was only natural after Jennifer died Sim would stay with him. Besides, his real father didn’t want anything to do with him, so it worked out. Hank loved the boy, he genuinely did, but sometimes he felt cheated to never have a son of his own.
Glancing towards the house, he gave a contented sigh. It wasn’t much, a quaint two-story out in the middle of the woods. Built mostly from wood, it was the closest you could get to an actual wood cabin, without freezing your ass off in the winter months. Smoke curled from a cobblestone chimney, making soft, white, curly-Qs as it drifted through the branches reaching precariously over the roof. Despite it being moderately insulated, Canadian winter months could still feel quite cold. Hell, up here in Nova Scotia, even the summers can get a little chilly at nights.
The first floor was an open floor plan. Living room, kitchen, dining room and office were all open. A wooden staircase climbed to the second floor which consisted of three rooms: two bedrooms and a bathroom. It was enough for him. Well, now it was enough for him and Sim. His nearest neighbor was several miles away, and the nearest town, twenty. It was what he liked about this place. It was peaceful. Peace is what Hank needed. People and he didn’t do well together. Never had. There were only two people he could get along with, and one was dead. The other was Sim, and he didn’t have much choice. Sim was only seventeen and Hank was responsible for him.
Sim didn’t care much for being out here. Hank knew. What seventeen-year-old would want to live out in the middle of nowhere? Miles away from any friends, not to mention, miles away from any girls. Nothing was said directly, but Hank picked up on it in the subtle ways he talked about missing events at school, or wanting to be on the football team but not being able to get to practice. He felt bad about having the boy out here with him, but he didn’t see where he had much choice.
When he said he didn’t get along with people well, he wasn’t kidding. Hank was short to anger, and a long time burning down. If he spent too long with people, it was only a matter of time before someone was getting hit, and it was normally Hank who was doing the hitting. The only time he had been able to stop his anger was in the presence of Jennifer. She was gone now.
“Daaad?”
“Yeah, Sim. What do you need?”
“Dinner’s ready. It’s getting cold,” Sim replied.
Smiling to himself, he thought that this was another thing that he could thank Jennifer for. Sim was a wonderful son, doing his chores without complaint, and helped additionally without being asked.
Hank had totally forgotten about dinner, as he commonly did when he got into the rhythm of chopping wood. Sim saw him out here and knew he would forget, so he started dinner. Though it was doubtless only Mac & cheese, least it was something.
Taking a moment, he surveyed the scenery. His house was on two hundred acres of wild lands. This part of Nova Scotia was still wild. Most of the surrounding area was hardwoods. Old growth which had been here for centuries. All manner of wildlife lived in these woods: wolves, foxes, porcupines, minks, and bears. It was part of what he loved about living here. The mix of silence, and the sounds of life.
Through no fault of his own, he was wealthy. His parents left him a fortune, not to mention investments. His family could easily live off the interest. Though he didn’t need to, he made money on his own. Webpage design was what he did, and it made him decent money, but was more of a hobby than a career. It also kept him away from people for the most part. Ironically, it was how he met Jennifer.
She worked for a Seattle company in charge of advertising and he was living in Seattle at the time, starting his business of web page design. With only one site under his belt, he evidently was talented and the site got him several clients. One of them, Jennifer’s firm.
Jennifer called and asked if she could meet to go over what she had in mind for the site. Figuring he didn’t need to meet with his clients to get their website started, as he knew it would mean there was less chance he could screw it up, by letting his anger get in the way. He told her to fax over her ideas and he would get her a draft site by the end of the week. If he wanted the account he would have to meet her, she had told him.
Later, she told him, his attitude infuriated her as she was the type of person who had to deal directly with someone when they pissed her off.
He considered walking away from the account. After all, he didn’t need the money and nobody had forced the issue before. Most places were more than happy to fax something over, if he got results. It intrigued him she insisted on a meeting, so he agreed to meet her over dinner to discuss her proposals.
When he arrived at the restaurant he was in a foul mood. Some idiot had double-parked and blocked his vehicle and he had spent the next half hour arguing with him. He sorely wanted to hit the guy, but he was running late, otherwise he would have. Waiters rushed about and customers created a cacophony of sounds that overwhelmed his senses. For a Monday night, he was surprised to see so many people. When he told the host his name, the man had him follow. The host moved in and around the tables like a snake sliding through weeds. Hank figured out where they were headed. A young woman sat alone in a booth at the back of the restaurant, sipping wine from a glass.
Though she was sitting, her long, shapely legs were stretched out to the side of her chair. Wavy brown hair cascaded over her shoulders. She wore a black dress, formal, yet casual enough to wear out to a club, which clung to her slim figure with the light touch of a suitor. She stood to greet him. High cheekbones were noticeable, but her face was fleshy enough to not make them appear stark. Though she had thin lips, the soft pink lipstick accentuated them without turning them garish.
The dress was squared off above her bosom to not reveal too much cleavage. Clearly, she didn’t attempt to use her beauty to get what she wanted. She could have. She was beautiful. Stunning, truthfully. Realizing his mouth was stuck open, he shut it. As the host bowed out of the way, Jennifer extended her hand, which he unconsciously took and shook lightly.<
br />
“Hank Keller?” She asked, dark and throaty, as if seduction had a voice.
Nodding dumbly, he was unable to stop staring at her.
“I’m Jennifer Heins. Please, have a seat.”
She sat, and after a moment, he sat opposite her.
“I don’t normally meet with my clients. My business doesn’t require a one on one meeting.” Not really knowing what else to say, Hank told her.
She smiled at him.
“I realize, Mr. Keller. However, I like to see whom I’m doing business with. I guess it is a quirk of being in advertising. It’s the best way to figure out how to sell their product.”
“Yes, of course.” For the first time in his life, he felt calm around someone. All of his earlier anger at the parking incident, melted away. It was a bit of shock. All his life he had little to no desire to be around, well, anyone. Now he couldn’t wait to spend more time with her.
The dinner lasted two hours, and they discussed many things. He learned she had a son named Simon who was ten. Her first marriage had been a sham and she had no intention of marrying another “dumb loser” as she termed the father. Worried he might fit into that category, he tried to impress her, and she appeared interested in him, and what he did.
In the end, he got the account, and a second date. From there, their dating went on for about six months. When he proposed, it was during one of their fights. They enjoyed fighting, because they got each other’s blood pumping and, sooner or later, one of them would kiss the other and go right into having make-up sex. This time, though, it was different.
“You are afraid of commitment, Hank. I stay over here four nights a week, and yet, you have never asked if I would like to move in with you!”
“That is because you are pretty much living here! Why should I have to ask you something you do?”
“I don’t know, perhaps because it would make sense? You know, I could stop paying for MY apartment, and share the costs of YOUR apartment, so it would become OUR apartment. Or, we could get a house for Christ’s sake! But you don’t even suggest it, which makes me think you don’t want to be with me!”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Yelling at her. “Of course, I want to be with you; otherwise I wouldn’t be with you! Why don’t I go ahead and marry you! What do you think about that?”
“Fine. Why don’t you?!” Jennifer yelled in response.
For a moment, they stared at each other.
“Did you just propose?” Jennifer asked in a quiet voice.
“Yeah. I guess I did. What did you say?”
“I think I said yes. More or less.”
“Well. Which one? More? Or less?” He pressed.
“More.” Jennifer said after thinking on it a moment.
“Okay.” Hank stared at her, and she at him.
They both broke out laughing. They were married six months later. Simon gave her away, since her father died many years ago. The closer she got to him down the aisle, the more beautiful she appeared, she was breathtaking. It was beyond doubt the happiest day of his life.
A little over a year later she was pregnant with their son, Patrick. Nine months, two weeks and three days later, Jennifer and Patrick were both dead. It was the worst day of his life.
It was then he decided to move to Canada and buy land and build a house. Simon was an afterthought at the time. Taking some time to track down his real dad, when he found him, Simon’s real dad told him to “go the fuck away,” Simon called Hank up and asked if he could stay with him. Hank loved Simon. They had grown accustomed to each other during the courtship and marriage, and eventual mourning of his mother.
He had lost his son, and Simon wasn’t his. He wanted to be alone with his grief. But when he thought about Jennifer, he knew she would want him to take care of her son. So, in the end, Simon came and lived with him. They had grown a lot closer since. After all, there wasn’t much to do out here but father/son bonding. They hunted, fished and hiked all over his property. They were terrific friends, and what’s more, he called him dad.
Reaching down, he grabbed his flannel shirt off the stump next to where he was working and put it on. Making his way down to the house, he opened the front door and entered. Sim was at the table eating. Appearing a lot like his mother, with his brown hair, just short of being too long and a touch wavy like his mother’s. He lacked his mother’s cheekbones and instead got her fleshy face only, which made his cheeks appear a little chubby. His lips were thin as well. Tall, like his mother, he was well proportioned. Not all arms and legs like some boys were at his height. The years here had put some muscle on his frame. Rather a plain looking boy, which was surprising, since his mother had been beautiful. Must have gotten it from his father, Hank guessed.
Sitting down at the table, he smiled over the plate of Mac & Cheese. Good ol’ Sim, he thought. Shrugging, he digged in. If it was tasty, he wasn’t picky about what he ate. He could have eaten Mac & Cheese for a month and not cared. In fact, he thought, there might have been a month a while back when it was all they had.
Hank paused in eating, “How was school today?”
“You know.”
Typical teenager answer, Hank thought.
“In fact, I don’t know, which is why I am asking. Did you see me in your classrooms?”
Sim grunted. Hank waited.
Glanced up from scarfing down his food to see Hank was still waiting, he sighed audibly.
“It was fine. I got an A on my History test and only got a B in Chemistry. They say Aubrey Williams is pregnant, but she said it wasn’t true. I believe her because I know her boyfriend, Ben, and he told me he wasn’t getting any.”
That was more than I needed to know, but I got my answer, Hank thought.
“Well I’m proud of you on your History test, and I wish you had studied a little longer on your chemistry. Whether Aubrey Williams is pregnant or not is none of your business and you shouldn’t be gossiping about it in school. Also, Ben should know better than to tell people those things, it’s not respectful to his girlfriend.”
Sim frowned at him, but nodded.
They ate the rest of their dinner in silence. After, Sim went outside and gathered some of the firewood Hank had cut to start the wood stove before turning on the TV. Hank worked on the computer in the corner. A typical evening. Sometimes they would break out some board games if either one was feeling up to it. Tonight, though, neither Sim or he was interested.
Sitting at his computer, he didn’t do any work. Instead, he watched Sim out of the corner of his eye. Sim had saved him. When Sim called him to ask if he could stay with him, He had been in a bad way. The death of Jennifer and his son had sent him spiraling out of control. Drinking incessantly, going to bars to fight.
Thinking back now, he could admit to himself he had been hoping for someone to draw a knife, or a gun and to end it for him. In full honesty, he hadn’t wanted to go on. The truth was, he was miserable and had been all his life. The one thing which brought any happiness to his life was Jennifer. When she was gone, it was like someone let him experience heaven after being in hell, then tossed him back to hell. Simon’s call changed everything. It gave him back a piece of Jennifer and he would be damned sure to take care of it for her.
Standing up, he walked over behind Sim, leaned over and kissed him on the head. Sim almost jumped, and stared back up at him with huge eyes. Hank couldn’t blame him. When it came to showing emotions, he was a reserved man. It was indeed something to get a hug out of him. So, a kiss on the head, it shocked Sim.
Smiling down at him. “You know I love you, Sim? You know, right?”
Sim stared at him for a moment, making sure he wasn’t playing with him. After a moment, satisfied Hank wasn’t, he responded. “Yeah, dad. I know. I love you, too.”
Staring down at Sim for a moment, he felt wetness well in his eyes. He turned away.
“Okay, well I’m going to bed. Try not to stay up too late watching that crap.”
“Sure, d
ad. Good night.”
Climbing the stairs, he didn’t glance back. If he had, he might have seen Sim wipe tears from his eyes.
Hank lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. “It was time for them to move back to the states. He couldn’t expect Simon to live out here like this. He needed friends nearby, needed a less “rural” education. This life might be for him, but it wasn’t for Sim. Yes. It was time to move back.” Hank smiled as his eyelids started to droop and sleep overtook him “I’ll tell him in the morning. Sim would love the idea.” Agony! His whole body felt as if bursting into flames. Pain seared him from head to toe. It felt like someone was taking a tire iron to his body. The pain was so intense, he screamed once, and blacked out.
Sim watched TV, some late-night court show, but he wasn’t paying much attention to it. He mulled over what his dad said before heading up the stairs. He knew Hank loved him, but in all the years they were together he never said it really said it. Oh, he responded with it when offered to him. But, he never said it first. He wondered if Hank was okay. There were times when Hank missed Sim’s mom, he knew, as there were still nights when Sim cried himself to sleep with the loss of his mother. Life goes on, though.
A lesson he had learned early. From losing his mother, to meeting his real dad, and having his dad reject him, you have to pick yourself up after. Which is exactly what he did. He called Hank, and Hank took him in. By not turning him away, Hank saved him. If he had rejected him as well, if he had lost his last chance at family, he would have died.
He hadn’t been sure Hank would take him in. He had loved Sim’s mother a great deal, and therefore may have felt the need to keep a piece of her close. Which was what it was, at first, a way for Hank to hold on a bit longer to Jennifer, Sim believed.
The Awakening: Part Two (The Lycan War Saga) Page 2
