Page 164 of We Redeemed the Rain

Up until my research spree, I had no idea how complex PTSD was. Tag’s dissociative experience was just one of the many, many ways severe trauma could manifest.

My insides had been twisted inside out as one question rolled through my mind on agonizing, gutting repeat.Why? Why? Why?

The things I knew about the abuse in his childhood wrapped around me until I choked with grief. Something happened to him. The possibilities sent bile up my throat.

That night under the stars, there was a sentence he never finished…and it was haunting me.

“When you were fast asleep, I was…”

I prayed, begged God, that the end of the sentence wasn’t something absolutely horrifying. Internally, I raged against the mother who never loved him, the father who never sought him, the grandma who simply needed him, the brother who used him, and the people who only saw an antisocial guy.

I ragedthat the world didn’t know the tender man inside—the man who craved a friend, the man who could write his heart like a poet, the man who rescued horses because he thought they were worth a second chance, the man who knew how to braid hair.

I raged against his rain story. He’d never told me about it. The trauma had to be about the rain—had to be. Whatever it was, whatever broke his spirit, I hated it. I hated the person responsible and hated the universe for standing silent while my best friend was hurt.

My thoughts spiraled as I stood next to the Prius, loath to get in. How could I say goodbye with so many questions? I asked Jesse if I should stay and he told me to go home and let Tag be Tag. Relinquishing control was like holding back an instinctive impulse. As painful as igniting my own heart and watching it burn to the ground.

Jackie stood next to me in the gravel driveway. “Did he text back?”

I tapped my phone screen for the hundredth time. “No.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry, Bea.”

“Me too.”

She rubbed the back of my shoulder. “We have to go.”

“I know.”

I exchanged quiet goodbyes with Cade and Jesse. Then blindly, numbly, I buckled myself into the passenger’s seat.

As Jackie bumped down the gravel driveway, I saw Tag in pasture five. He was digging something out of the ground.

“Stop the car!” I shrieked.

Before the tires came to a full stop, I flew out the door, running for the fence. I climbed and jumped off it in a relatively smooth motion. “Tag!”

When he heard my voice, he looked up.

“Tag!” I jogged for a few moments until I stood breathlessly before him. Oxygen filled my tight lungs in frantic pulls. After a few steadying breaths, my greeting sounded lame. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He walked away a few paces and plunged the shovel into the ground again.

“What are you digging up?”

“These weeds’ll make the horses sick.”

“Oh.”

The soil scraped against the metal shovel, roots snapping as he pulled it up. He tossed the plant into the wheelbarrow beside him.

“We have to leave.”

Finally, he glanced at me. “Yeah. I know.”

I drew in a sharp breath, fighting against the urge to cry.

The sun was back in full force today, already burning the back of my neck and shoulders. I lifted a hand to shield my eyes from the scorching rays. “I’m going to miss you, Tag.”

---