Page 46 of No Kind of Hero
His mind had wanted to panic, but he hadn’t let it. He’d thought,This can’t be it. Thiswon’tbe it. I’m coming back.
So long ago, and it was still all right there. How hard he’d trained, because all sorts of athletes had recovered faster than the doctors had said, had recovered when everybody said they couldn’t. They’d come back through strength of will and bodies that could take more punishment and heal faster than anybody else’s, and because they were willing to make more effort than anybody else would. And that was him. It had always been him.
He’d put a picture of Seabiscuit over his bed in the dorm that spring, and hadn’t cared who saw it. The racehorse who’d come back from a broken leg to race, and to win. Because that horsewantedto win. Ithadto win. It had to end up in front. Not being in front wasn’t an option.
And when it hadn’t happened on time, when he’d seen it wasn’t going to be possible? He’d pushed even harder. He was going to make it possible anyway. This was his ticket, and it wasn’t going to be over.
Except that it had been.
“It didn’t happen,” he said again. “Sometimes your best isn’t enough.”
Beth didn’t start talking right away. She knew how to be quiet, knew everything you could say with your eyes and your body, and how much more it meant than words. She waited a minute, then asked, “But you finished, right? What was your degree in?”
She’d never asked, not any of this, and he’d sure never felt like bringing it up. But it was all such a long time ago. The corner of his mouth lifted. “Civil engineering.”
“That doesn’t sound easy.”
“It was for me. I can fix most things. I see the patterns. Most things have patterns. Most things make sense if you shut up and look close and think it through.”
“Ah. Did you ever do it? That job?”
He shifted in his seat, looked away, across the lake. “Yeah. I worked in Seattle for almost two years. The job was all right. But it was too many cars. Too much noise. Too many people talking. I stopped being able to hear.”
“You shut down.” Quiet, still. Barely there, her touch on his arm light as the cottonwood snow drifting on the breeze.
“Yeah. I guess I did. Anyway, Russell needed the help. He wasn’t doing so hot once Riley joined the service and Dakota left, and then my brother fell down that rabbit hole over in Montana. Got sent to prison the first time for cooking meth. I didn’t want to leave my mom alone. Your mom shouldn’t be alone. It was supposed to be a break. Help them both out for six months, a year, get the quiet back in my head and get right again.”
“What happened?”
He smiled. “Look around. Or don’t look. Listen.”
She did, and so did he. The cicadas. The wind in the pines. The faint, peaceful lap of tiny waves against the boat’s hull. The music his heart could dance to.
“You got your quiet back,” she said. “And you didn’t want to let it go.”
“Yeah. And then that summer, you know. Riley died.”
Dakota’s older brother and Evan’s best friend, lying dead in his desert camos on a dusty street halfway around the world. A hero, and a son. “Russell’s been a lot to me,” he said.
“A dad?”
“No. Not really. A friend.”
“You thought he needed help.”
“No. Hedidneed help. He’s an alcoholic who’s stopped drinking, but you never stop wanting that crutch. My brother never could hold that off. Russell had done it, but losing your son? Dakota wasn’t there. So I stayed. And then you left.”
He put it out there, and she took it. “When you needed me. Even though you didn’t say so. You never seemed like you needed anybody.”
“I didn’t want to.”
“But I should have known. Of course I should have. I didn’t.”
He shrugged. “Yeah. Well, it woke me up. Made me think about what I was doing, what I wanted my life to be. I realized I could buy a house here if I got one in bad enough shape. I could buy it, and I could fix it up. I knew how to do a lot of things, and what I didn’t know, I could learn. When would I have been able to buy a house in Seattle? I even got a real boat, eventually.”
“Mm. And it’s great. So you did a lot to your house yourself? I’d like to see more of it.”
“Well, you know,” he said, starting to smile. “I did. Maybe I want you to see more of it too. Maybe tonight.” He needed to get a move on. He needed toputa move on. That was the point, except that his stubborn mind kept getting confused.
