Page 59 of Fighting the Tide
Saying the words out loud only makes it more real, and I truly wonder just what my father is up to.How far has he sunk into that dark pit of addiction, and how close is he to joining my mother here?
“You must think I’ve become a terrible son, and I won’t sit here and lie to you and tell you I haven’t, but you must have known that you were my only parent.Now I feel like an orphan.”
It’s cathartic to sit here and bare my soul to someone who’s long left Chatham.I can’t even be certain she’s hearing anything of what I’m saying.I look up to find Avery slowly making her way over, her hair blowing in the wind as it picks up, carrying with it the scent of a storm.
“If you are with Brooke, you can tell her I no longer feel her in my chest.”For a long time, well before she died, I wanted to know what he had that I didn’t.What made her keep running back to Sean Clark?Even though I was always there with my arms open, waiting for her despite it all.When my vision distorts and Avery grows closer, I push myself off the ground and turn around to look down at my mom’s headstone, running my fingers along the words Stella Sears.“Why wasn’t I good enough?”
Avery comes to stand beside me once again.She doesn’t burden me with questions or try to ease me with her touch.She just lets me feel what I’m feeling and remains close so I know she’s there if I need her.
“I’m going to go for a drive,” I tell her.“Let your mom know I’ll be back in time for dinner.”
“You’re not going to go to your house, are you?”I can hear how worried she is that I will come face-to-face with my father, and maybe she’s more worried for him than she is for me.I know I’m pulsing with a dark energy and it probably feels violent and volatile to her.Nothing like the boy she’s been best friends with for years.This man I’ve become is unpredictable.
“No.I don’t need to go back there,” I assure her.I pray I’m not lying to my best friend, but as I stare down at my mother’s name carved into that stone, my resentment only grows.“They should have told me she was sick,” I tell Avery.
“I think so too,” she agrees.“But I can see why she wouldn’t want that.She was the one who wanted you to leave Chatham, to become something, and I think she knew you would drop it all in a second to be with her.”
“That should have been my decision to make,” I declare as I lift my head and look out toward all the other tombstones.
“Yeah.Maybe.”She shrugs her shoulders.“But I think she knew you would have been trapped here if you made that decision.”
I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her into my side, kissing the top of her head.“Thank you for being here with me, Aves.”
“Always, Nolan,” she promises as she wraps her arms around my waist.
“Come, I’ll drop you home.”I lead her away from my mother’s grave, only to stop short when she pulls back and shakes her head.
“No, it’s okay.I’m going to head back with Mom.She’s waiting for me.”She gives me another squeeze and then walks away, her black dress blowing around her ankles.
I have to be back in New York in two days.I don’t have the luxury of taking the summer off again this year, not that I would want to.I can’t wait to get out of this town, but before I do, there’s something I need to check off my list.
I give a wide berth to Brooke’s gravesite and the people surrounding it and head back to my car.I know I should go check on Cassie and see if she has a ride home, but I don’t have the capacity to care about anything right now.I drive out of the cemetery and dig deep within myself, searching for the tether that’s always been connected to Brooke, but there’s nothing there.Nothing but a dark, cavernous hole, and I’m suddenly hit with a fearful thought.What is the point of me being on this Earth anymore?
The sky darkens as the storm rolls in, thunder rumbling in the distance.The ominous sound is a warning of its impending doom, and it resonates inside of me.I, too, have a storm gathering in that void in my chest, and it only grows darker with each passing minute.I turn down the main road leading from town, and instead of going toward my house, I make a left which would take me to the Easthams.I know what happened on this road and I want to laugh out loud at how absurd I thought I was acting when Brooke would speed along this street, her hair whipping behind her as she squealed and gripped the wheel.All her death will serve is another petition for street lamps that will go unheard, and another promise to crack down on the drug dealers, which have never worked before.
The tree is surrounded by flowers and teddy bears, and the ribbons tied around its damaged trunk are blowing in the wind.It’s a shot to the chest and I slam on the brakes before I get too close.The air is sucked from my lungs as the first drops of rain fall, the heavy splatters hitting my windshield.This is where Sean Clark took the turn too sharp and lost control of the car, slamming into the tree and taking his life instantly.But Brooke?It’s as if I can feel her pain as she clung to life here, trapped inside her car that had crumpled like an accordion.It’s agonizing as I try to breathe through it until the panic explodes outward and I’m struggling to undo my seat belt.
I put the car in park and shove open the door before landing on the asphalt, my knees absorbing the impact and my palms scraping beneath my weight.I suck in air through my mouth, audibly trying to fill my lungs, but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough, and when I lift my head to stare at the tree I’m suddenly seeing it replay in my mind, as if I’m sitting with Brooke in a theater watching it on the big screen.
Her car comes careening around the bend, the music blasting at deafening levels, and the tires squealing in protest.Sean is behind the wheel, his blond hair blowing in the wind and his blue eyes glossy and unfocused.Brooke’s hands grip the dash as her eyes fill with fear, her mouth opening on a scream, but the sound is quickly absorbed by the music.Then the car speeds past me, the back tires swerving outward as Sean overcorrects the wheel.
“NO!”I scream as rain and wind slash at my face.“Brooke!”
The car slams into the tree, the sound of the impact jarring me, and I fall backward onto my ass as I watch it crash into the powerful trunk.The front wheels are still spinning, the music still playing, and the smoke begins to rise from the engine, the acrid vapor pouring into my nose.
“Oh god, Brooke,” I whisper as the scene slowly fades and I find myself sitting in the middle of the road as rain soaks through my clothes.
I’m standing on the porch of the cottage as lightning skates across the sky.The inside looks dark, but I know he’s in there because the truck is parked in the driveway.I turn the handle and the door swings inward to reveal my mother’s destroyed home.Everything she took pride in, is gone.Trash is piled all over the floor and the place reeks of rot and decay.I step inside, half-expecting to find my father dead somewhere under the garbage heaps.
Luckily for him, I guess, I find him curled up on one end of the couch, surrounded by filth.His hair has long grown out, the thin, greasy strands hanging over his shoulders, and his skin looking an awful shade of gray.There’s no way he’s going to survive much longer here, and even with that thought, I feel absolutely nothing.Have I become immune to death?Or do I pity the bastard, knowing death would be a welcomed change for him?
“Anthony.”I kick at his knee, making him groan.“Wake up.”
His eyes crack open, the irises covered in a milky film.“No money,” he mumbles as he shifts on the couch, wafting a stench upward and nearly making me vomit.
“It’s Nolan,” I say through the sleeve of my sweater, covering my mouth and nose.
“Nolan?”He lifts his head and narrows his eyes on me, letting out a chuckle when he recognizes me.“I bet you wished I had died instead, huh?”His voice is rough and cracking, almost as if he doesn’t use it often.“So do I.”
