Page 63 of Fighting the Tide
“Thanks for the bin, but I’ll take care of the garbage.It’s a small place and it shouldn’t take me more than a few days.I just need to carefully go through it in case some of my mother’s stuff is still around.”I know she had baby boxes of things from my infancy and childhood stashed somewhere, and there are many places where she would hide things from my father I need to check through.
“All right.”Darren reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a card, placing it in my outstretched hand.“Give me a call when you’re ready.”He leaves through the open front door as I continue watching him, the surprise hidden behind the mask on my face.He’s changed quite a bit and I try to go over phone conversations with Avery over the years, wondering if she told me about his alternative life choices.I chalk it up to her knowing I never want to hear about this town or the people in it for the reason she didn’t say anything.
A few minutes later, the bin arrives, and I begin to fill it with the garbage bags I collected.By the end of the day, I have half of the living room along with the kitchen and the front door cleared of debris, including throwing the fridge and stove out into the bin.I knew I would have to buy new appliances, so I didn’t even bother to open the fridge.I finally call it a day when the tow truck shows up as the sun is setting to take the truck away.
It was harder than I thought it would be to watch the vehicle Mom drove me around in, the one I drove around all through high school and college, get hauled away.
With an aching body and a weary mind, I get in my car with the intention of driving back to the bed-and-breakfast, but I turn left at the end of the driveway instead of right.It’s as if my instincts are tuned to self-inflicted torture.I follow the bend as the new streetlights turn on, highlighting the tree as if it’s the holy grail.
My foot slams into the brake hard, making the car skid with the force.I’m not braking because the tree that claimed the love of my life is suddenly illuminated by a streetlight.No.It’s the young girl riding away from it on her bike, her hair up in a messy ponytail, and her legs working hard to make her bike ride faster.
I drop my head to the wheel and press my forehead to the cool surface while cursing under my breath.Is this the way it’s going to be?My mind is always conjuring up the girl I can’t seem to move on from, the dead girl of my past?I lift my head and press my palms into my eyes, rubbing away the vision before opening them again.This time, the area is empty, with no other cars or people around.If this was a summer month, I wouldn’t think twice about seeing kids on bikes, but I’m seriously questioning my sanity right now.
I turn around and head back into town, keeping my eyes peeled for any more visions that may send me spiraling over the edge.I swear, if my mother shows up one of these days, that’ll be it.I’ll book an appointment with a doctor.The homely establishment is quiet when I get back and the lady behind the counter gives me a sad smile, making me wonder if she’s figured out who I am.My ID did say Sears on it, and I bet my father’s death has made its rounds.It’s the one thing I have always despised about Chatham.Everyone knows your business.
We are a tourist town, but only for a few months of the year.Outside of that, we are a really small town where almost everyone knows each other.I was a pretty laid-back kid and enjoyed the ocean more than I did the town, so I didn’t really make any connections with other townsfolk, but my mother did.Though, if I’m being completely honest, my father did too.Only this was because of his penchant for roaming around and begging for money.
So while I may not know many people in town, they most probably know my parents.
I give her a small nod because I am trying my best to be polite, but if anyone brings up my drug-addict father or my housekeeper mother, I won’t hold back.
My cell phone beeps in my pocket just as I get inside my room, telling me I received a text message.I decide to ignore it and place it on the side table until I’m clean.I take off my clothes and put them into the laundry bag, knowing they’re disgusting and covered in mold.The scalding shower cleans the lingering filth off my body and by the time I step out, I’m slightly pruned along my fingertips.
With my towel wrapped around my waist, I pop open the second whiskey bottle and take a long swig, letting the burn rip its way down my throat and settle in my stomach.Then I swipe open my cell phone and click on the message from Cassie.
Cassie: Just arrived in Chatham.I took the train and bus for old time’s’ sake.Where are you staying?
Nope.It’s not happening.I refuse to have her in this room with me, creating more rumors in this town.I want my time here to be quick and easy.In and out.So instead of shooting her a message back, I lock the screen on her message.I’m annoyed because she knows exactly what having her stay with me would do, and I think that’s the only reason she’s asking.I told her why I’m here in Chatham and I made it clear that I didn’t want her here with me.If she’s home to visit her family, then that’s what she can do.
I bring the bottle of whiskey out to the balcony and sit in the same chair I did last night, watching as the lights around Brooke’s Cinemas blink.I wonder what movies are playing and if the inside still looks the same.I wonder if our wads of gum still decorate the bottom side of the seats, and I wonder if I went in there, would I find the missing piece of me I gave away so long ago?
I couldn’t feel Brooke at her grave when we watched her casket being lowered, and I always wondered where she roamed.Is she inside that theater?Or could she be up on the top of that lighthouse, looking out at the ocean?Maybe one day I will have the courage to find out.
My palm finds the cool skin on my chest as I rub it, missing the tug that used to be there, the tether that would tighten whenever Brooke needed me.Now it’s empty and I don’t feel like I’ll ever be myself again.I drop my hand and take another swig of the whiskey, settling into the chair for another night of self-pity and inebriation.
Sounds a lot like Anthony Sears.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Thenextmorning,Ihead to the hardware store again to grab some tools.A drill set, hammer, broom, and more garbage bags.I stand in line to check out when a familiar voice hits the back of my head.
“They said you were back in town, but I didn’t believe it until now.”
I turn to find Kasen Barnette standing behind me with a wide grin on his face.He’s gained a little weight and his hairline has receded quite a bit.“Hey, man.”I hold out my hand and he grasps it firmly in his grip.“What are you doing here?”
“I live here now.”He shrugs his shoulders after letting go of my hand and gives me a noncommittal smile.“I had an injury in college.Rotator cuff took me out at the crucial time for draft picks.I decided to come back to Chatham and teach football at the high school.”
“Sorry to hear that.”I lay my things down on the counter and watch as the clerk scans each one.She reads me my total and I hand her my credit card, feeling Kasen’s scrutinizing eyes on me.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” he says as I grab my bags and watch as he sets down a few drill bits and screws.“He’s at peace with your mother now.”
I know he’s trying to share his sympathies, and if it were for any other person, I’d accept them gratefully, but my father just doesn’t deserve it.
“Yeah,” I murmur as he pays for his stuff and grabs his bag.We walk out of the hardware store and I head for my car, hoping we say our goodbyes and move on, but I have no such luck when he clears his throat.
“I heard Darren Sanderson stopped by your place yesterday.He does real good work.He fixed up Mom and Dad’s place for me after Dad passed last summer.”See what I mean about everyone knowing everyone’s business?
“Sorry about your dad,” I offer, and he waves me off.
