Page 115 of How to Hide in Plain Sight
“I know you lost them.”
He wheeled backward, away from my words.
“Or at least, youthinkyou lost them. But that’s not true, Dad. That’s not what happened.”
“Eliot. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Yes, I do.” I stepped forward.
“No, you don’t. What are you doing, Eliot? Why would you say something so cruel?”
“Because it’s true, Dad.” I took another step forward. Another. “You didn’t lose Henry’s ashes. They weren’t lost.”
Dad rolled farther away. I chased him out into the main cabin.
“They weren’t lost. They were hidden.” I paused. “And I know where they are.”
His eyes shrunk, hardening to marbles.
“You remember the Fort? The one I built, way out in the woods?”
He nodded. His face was pale as lace.
“It’s not a fort,” I said. “It’s a tomb.”
His mouth dropped open. We stared at each other. The air brightened and darkened, lightened and ladened, released my lungs and squeezed my chest so tightly I could no longer breathe. It happened all together, all at once. And it felt to me then, as we stood across from each other—Eliot and Speedy, youngest and oldest, separated by a distance of almost three full generations—that my father and I were truly seeing each other for the very first time.
“I’m sorry, Dad.” My eyes started to well up. “I…I didn’t know back then. What I was doing. I thought I was doing something kind. For Henry. I didn’t…I didn’t know…” I inhaled raggedly. “I’m so sorry.”
I had no idea what he would say to me. To this one final confession. I felt just the way I had as a child, back when I first threw myself before him, begging for his forgiveness. I felt raw and naked and terrified. I braced myself for his response.
But then, “Thereyou are.”
I looked up. Manuel stood before the makeshift curtain. He paced forward. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back. You and I need to…” When he saw the look on my face, he stopped. “Oh.” Glanced down at my father. “Is everything all right?”
Speedy wheeled backward. Tires on sticky floorboard.
“Manny,” I croaked.
“What happened?”
“I lied to you.”
“What?”
A strange throb echoed at the base of my skull. “I’m sorry.”
“Eliot, what the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m sorry.” Tears started to drip down my face. “I’m so sorry, Manuel. I hate myself. I hate what I did to you.”
“Don’t…”
“I’m a bad person. I’m fucked up.” I was crying in earnest now. “I left you. I disappeared. And I didn’t even tell you why. You deserve to know why.”
“Eliot—”
“The thoughts I have…They’re disgusting. They’re awful. I can’t even say them out loud. I can’t…”
