by K. C. Crowne
“Mom?” Parker asked, putting on the sweetest voice possible. “Can we have dinner?”
I looked at him, using my best mom look. “Well, I guess you’ve been pretty good since we got back. How about this – go down and get the mail and we can eat when you get back?”
“Okay!” Parker sprang out of his seat, jumped into his shoes, and started out the door.
“And I’ve got a surprise for you, kiddo,” Lizzie called, reaching into her purse. “Do you know about some game called Mario Kart?”
Parker’s eyes were about as wide as I’ve ever seen them as she slipped the game out of her bag. “What?” he asked, unable to believe it, a big smile on his face.
“Someone dropped it off at the store with a bunch of other stuff. I’m not exactly in video game sales, so I thought you might like it.”
“Hold on,” I said, taking it from Lizzie. “We had some problems at school today – not sure if I want to reward him just yet.”
“Please, Mom,” he begged, clasping his hands together. “Pleeeaaase.”
I sighed, shaking my head. “Finish your homework when you get back and you can play for a couple of hours.”
“Yes!” he said, hurrying out the door.
“Sorry if that was a bad call,” Lizzie apologized. “But I figured after this week you could do with a little chill time –both of you.”
“You’re right. It’s just…I don’t know. I know he’s been through a lot, but I never expected to have to raise him and discipline him alone.”
Lizzie grabbed a few plates from the cupboard and started setting the table. I got up and helped her.
“He’s dealing with a lot. I can’t imagine what the kid’s going through.”
“I just…I thought I could handle him all on my own. I just really miss Michael,” I murmured.
“I know you do. What happened at school today?” Lizzie fetched a couple of wine glasses, and my mouth practically watered as she opened the bottle and poured the red.
“I still need to hear his side of the story. But he’s getting into little scrapes with the other kids, and whenever I try to figure out what’s wrong, he shuts down on me. It’s…so unlike him.”
“He’s still a sweet kid. He’s just going through some stuff right now. And he feels angry, I bet.” She passed me one of the glasses of red wine. “Where’s the mailbox?”
“It’s down the road, one of those joint mailbox deals that we all share.”
“Is it far away? I’m thinking the kiddo should’ve been back by now.”
I got up without another word. He should’ve been back. Something was wrong. I could feel it in my bones.
“I’m coming with,” she said as I stepped into my slip-ons.
We hurried out of the house and across the property, reaching the road. My place was on a hill, and from out in front I could see the mailbox. Parker was there. And he wasn’t alone.
“Who the hell is that?” Lizzie asked as we picked up our pace.
As we drew closer, I could see who was with Parker. “Hey!” I shouted, my heart pounding as Hunter and Parker came into view.
One of Parker’s pant legs was rolled up, a red smear on his skin. He was bleeding.
“Parker!”
Hunter and Parker both turned their attention to me. I was so worried, so scared at the sight of my little boy hurt that I couldn’t even think straight. The moment I reached Parker, I dropped to my knees and wrapped my arms around him.
“Mom!” he shouted, not pleased at all by my behavior.
“What happened?”
“Mo-om,” he said, embarrassed. “Sto-op. Mr. Anderson’s taking care of it.”
“Taking care of what?”
“Mandy,” Lizzie said, snapping me out of my frantic state of mind. “Let’s let the nice man explain, alright?”
I turned my eyes to him, Hunter’s blues as piercing as ever.
“I was coming down to the mailbox,” he said. “Spotted your boy just in time to see him take a tumble. Scuffed up his leg a bit, so I told him to stay put while I got my medical kit.” He raised his hand, his fingers wrapped around the handle of a first-aid kit that I hadn’t even noticed through the panic.
I looked down again at Parker’s leg again.
“Nothing serious,” Hunter said, his voice gruff. “But ought to be taken care of all the same. Can’t be too careful when it comes to infection.”
“And you know what you’re doing?” Lizzie asked.
“Medical training in the service and on the police force,” he revealed. “I’m not a medic, but I can handle a ding like this.”
As he turned his attention back to Parker, the strangest thing happened – he smiled. It wasn’t a big, beaming smile, but a smile all the same.
“And the little man here’s been pretty tough about it,” he said. “Didn’t shed a single tear.”
“I’m not going to cry,” Parker said, a hard look on his face. “I’m tough.”
“That’s right, you are,” Hunter agreed. “But I ought to ask your mama before I tend to that gusher of yours.” He lifted his blue eyes to look at me.
“Um, sure,” I said. “If you know what you’re doing.”
I knew how to handle a scrape – not like I didn’t have experience with situations like that raising a boy. But as I watched Hunter drop to his knee and treat the wound, I noticed how skillful he was. He cleaned the scrape with some rubbing alcohol, applied some antibiotic ointment, and bandaged it like he’d done it a million times before.
“There you go,” he said when he was done, giving Parker a pat on the shoulder. “Good as new.”
“Yeah!” Parker said. “Easy, right?”
Another slight smile from Hunter. “Yeah, easy.” He stood up. The man was so tall he made Parker look even smaller than he already was. “Anyway,” Hunter said. “I’ll get on my way. I’m sure you can take it from here.”
He mussed Parker’s hair, the kid’s reaction shocking. Instead of squirming away or looking embarrassed, he grinned broadly as if he liked that kind of attention from a man like Hunter.
I watched as he started back up the hill toward his home, disappearing over the top. As soon as he was gone, I turned my attention back to Parker.
“You okay, kiddo?” I asked.
He looked at me with an expression of surprise, as if he couldn’t believe I was even asking. “I’m fine,” he said. “It doesn’t even hurt.”
Before the conversation could continue, a car appeared in the distance. As it drew closer, I saw a dark blue BMW SUV, the man behind the wheel wearing sunglasses.
“Shit,” I said under my breath, realizing who it was. I caught myself, but Parker’s attention was on the car and hadn’t noticed my swear.
“Oh no,” said Lizzie. “Is that…?”
The car arrived just as she spoke, coming to a halt next to us. Adam Barnes. He was an old friend of Michael’s from back in the day, a kind of mirror image of my and Lizzie’s relationship. But while Lizzie and I were close as they came, Adam and Michael…were different. I’d always had the impression that Adam had been jealous of Michael. Michael was all-American, a popular athlete. Adam was more bookish, the two of them seemingly friends simply from childhood inertia.
“Hey!” he said, slipping off his sunglasses and smiling wide, that familiar intense look in his eyes. “I’ll meet you at the house.”
He didn’t give me a chance to respond before driving on, dust from his tires flying into the air and forcing a sputtering cough out of my lungs.
“Figured it was only a matter of time before he showed up,” Lizzie commented as the three of us started back to the house. There was a sharpness to her tone, one that suggested she wasn’t crazy about seeing Adam either.
“What’s that all about?” I asked, curious about the cause of her attitude.
“With Adam? Just get a weird vibe from him.”
“Ever since Michael passed, he’s been in touch, checking up on Parker and me,”
I told her.
“Mr. Barnes bought me a PlayStation,” Parker said. “He’s nice.”
“Guess he’s got the money to throw around,” Lizzie murmured. “But…I don’t know. I’ve just always gotten a weird vibe from him.”
“Well, I’m trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. He’d odd but harmless. And he’s been…nice.” I borrowed Parker’s word, not sure which other one to use.
“Nice is what people say about someone when they want to be polite,” Lizzie said with a slight smirk.
“Well, he’s kind of, um, intense. He checks up a lot. Really, I’m surprised it took him this long to come out to see us.”
Adam was already out of his car, the sleeves of his expensive white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. The guy wasn’t bad-looking – tall and trim with close-cropped dark hair and a face of sharp features that always reminded me of a fox. Adam had stayed in town after most of our friend group left and scattered around the country. He’d made good money as a local businessman, forming solid connections with the elite people in town.
He didn’t turn to me and Parker and Lizzie as we arrived, instead looking around the house as if inspecting it. “These solar panels are no good,” he commented, staring at the roof. “About half need to be replaced, and what you’ve got won’t be able to hold a charge. I’ll talk to Roy down at the industrial supply store in Bedford and see about getting you a deal on some new ones.”
“Good to see you, Adam.”
He gave a quick nod over his shoulder before turning back. “And these windows are really poorly insulated,” he continued, causing slight irritation in me. “You’re going to freeze come winter. I know a guy at a local contracting place – we’ll get this sorted out.” He turned back to the three of us, a focused look in his eyes. “Who built this place? It’s a damn energy suck.”
“My dad did,” I told him, lifting an eyebrow. “With his own two hands.”
Adam realized his misstep, but I gave him a small smile to let him know I wasn’t too peeved about it.
“Oh, sorry. Just…want to make sure you’re taken care of out here.” He spotted my car with its back bumper still crumpled. “And what the hell happened here? Did you get into an accident? What happened? With who?” He stepped over to me, his features worried and intense.
“Adam,” I said. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
He sighed, as if collecting himself. “It’s good to see you, Mandy.”
Before I could react, he gave me a big, tight hug, one that nearly made my eyes pop out of my head. “Good to see you, too,” I grunted.
He let go of me and looked at Lizzie then at Parker. “Hi, Lizzie. And, um, hey Peter.”
“Parker,” Parker said, quick to correct him.
“Parker.” Adam didn’t seem too concerned that he’d gotten my son’s name wrong, another irritating thing about him. “Anyway,” he said, putting his hands on his hips. “Came by to say hi and look at the place. Why don’t you all get settled and I’ll finish up. We can do some dinner after that.”
“Actually,” Lizzie said. “We’ve already got an evening planned.”
“Shouldn’t take me long,” Adam said, ignoring her. “I’ll wrap up and order some food.”
“We have food,” I countered, my voice stern.
He glanced at me and nodded, then said, “Then I’ll join you.”
Lizzie and I shared a look, as if we both knew we weren’t going to be able to get out of this one. “Wine,” she said. “Let’s get back to the wine.”
Parker, Lizzie, and I went into the house as Adam started his work, taking notes and scanning the property with eager eyes. But as soon as he was out of sight, I was thinking about Hunter. Tall and powerful, he seemed almost a part of the woods, like he was meant to be among them.
I had a strong, strong feeling we weren’t going to stay out of one another’s lives for long.
Hunter
I stayed home that night, working on the damage Mandy had done to my truck, steadily working my way through my bottle of whiskey until it was about half-gone. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, and I didn’t like it. It was a good thing that I had plenty of shit to do around the property.
After taking a look at the door, I decided it couldn’t be saved. The exterior was crumpled, the window mechanism broken along with the handle, and the glass had a jagged crack. So I went to work with my tools, pulling it off and tossing it aside, attaching a cut piece of orange tarp to cover it for the night.
The next day I’d go into town and pick up a new door from the junkyard, but for the time being the tarp would do the job. Once the tarp was secured, I poured myself a fresh glass of whiskey and stood on my porch, leaning against the wood exterior of my cabin watching the thick grey clouds roil overhead.
It’d be another night of rain, which was fine by me. I could work on the stove over the next hour, getting it ready to do its job of heating my home.
But I couldn’t take my eyes off the truck. I’d snapped at Mandy when she’d accidentally backed into me. I wasn’t crazy about how I’d reacted.
Something fed into my anger, however, something I hadn’t told her about – and never would. That truck wasn’t just any pickup – it was one I’d bought with my ex, the woman I was damn certain I was going to spend the rest of my life with.
We’d bought the truck in preparation for the moving we’d do when we finally bought a house together. That never came to pass, of course. But every time I looked at that truck, I was reminded of her, of those plans we’d made, of the life we had together that was forever derailed by what she’d done.
By what they’d done.
And as sick as it was, the truck was the was reminder I had of the life we’d had before it all went south. It was hard to imagine that we were once so happy in love. But what she’d done was so awful it blotted out all that. Hanging onto the truck was my way of holding onto those memories of the good times.
So, as dumb as it was, the truck was more than a truck. When Mandy had smashed into it, she’d reminded me that it was just a thing, something that could be broken like I’d been.
And I’d snapped at her for it. Maybe it was out of line, but it’d send the message to give me my space, that I wasn’t a man she could get close to, even as a neighbor.
Why Mandy and her boy were in town, I could only guess, but it didn’t matter a damn bit to me. I was there to lose myself, to stay in those woods until whatever happened, happened.
A drizzle started as I finished the last bit of my whiskey. My phone rang inside, so glass in hand, I went in to answer it. It wasn’t a call, but a text from Sam. He wanted to double-check to make sure I was still planning on coming in the next day for my first shift. I fired a text back to let him know to expect me.
The thought of going into town, of socializing, was enough to make me refill my glass. I grabbed my tools and set to work on the stove, the rain outside picking up until it was a full-on storm, the wind howling as it rushed through the trees.
I put on some music. The generator out back powered my cabin, so I did have the luxury of nonessentials like playing music. Townes Van Zandt filled the air, the mellow music letting me lose myself in my work.
It didn’t take much doing to fix the stove, and when it was ready, I filled it with some wood I’d cut earlier in the day and started a fire. I stoked the flames until they’d eaten into thicker pieces of timber. And when the fire burned to my satisfaction, I closed the metal grate and let the heat radiate through the cabin.
It felt nice – warm and toasty. I kicked off my boots, dropped onto the couch, and put my feet up on the box I was using as a temporary coffee table. Before too long, my place would be filled with furniture that I’d make myself from the woods on my property, but for that night, I was pleased to be alone with my whiskey and my music and my solitude, the crackle of the flames blending with the pattering of the rain.
I drifted off to sleep, my dreams intense, invasive. They were stran
ge dreams, dreams of me in my home, Mandy there with me. And they were all the same. Her in my cabin, her boy there with us. The scene was calm at first. Then a feeling of dread would form in the pit of my stomach, gnawing and aggressive.
There was something in the woods. Many, many somethings.
I’d get up, grab one of my guns, and run to the front porch, ready to defend Mandy and her boy and my home. The things in the woods – creatures out for blood – would draw closer and closer.
And as determined as I was to defend us, I feared I wouldn’t be strong enough.
That same damn dream played out over and over during the night until I woke up the next morning, birds chirping in the woods and the fire now nothing but smoldering embers. I wondered what in the hell that had been about.
A cord of pain cut through my head, and when my bleary eyes focused on the empty glass of whiskey on the box in front of me, I knew the cause. I heaved myself off the couch and stripped out of my clothes, wanting to shower and change into something clean. Normally I didn’t give a damn about matters like that, especially these days. But those dreams had put me in a strange headspace. I wanted to get moving just so I didn’t have to think about them.
It was a little after nine, and I was due at the auto shop at noon. That left some time for business around the cabin. A shower was the first order of the day, so once I stepped out of my boxer-briefs and kicked them aside, I turned on the water and got in.
The shower was just what I needed. I didn’t have much of a hangover, but whatever unpleasantness was there had gone by the time I turned the water off. I grabbed a towel and dried my body before stepping in front of the mirror and wiping away the steam.
My hair and beard were out of control, thick and long. Hard to believe only a short time ago my hair was short and neat and my face clean-shaven. Seemed like a million years in the past.
I heard a sound like a knock, and I frowned. At first, I was sure I was hearing things, or that it was some animal in the woods. But then it sounded again. Someone was at the door.
