I hadn’t told anyone—not even Luke—about my mother’s past. It haunted her every day and, in a way, it haunted me as well. I tried to pretend that it didn’t matter, that I wasn’t bothered, but inside I still felt raw.
There was nowhere that I could go that would eradicate those memories from my mind. It was almost a waste of time for me to even think about Bryce, we could never be. Not even if he wanted me.
Chapter 8
As much as things change, they stay the same. Some wise man said that. That same wise man didn’t have any great sayings about how to get private information though. I was on my own for that. I felt restless and upset when I got back home. Eddie’s mom had called me, she wanted to see me and invited me over. I told her I was busy this week, but would make time for her next week. I didn’t want to go. I couldn’t stand to see her and her photos of Eddie plastered all over her house. But I was the closest thing she had to her son now. But I didn’t need another anxious and neurotic mom. I didn’t need another worrier to add to my already heavy head.
“Mom, I’m going out,” I called out as I ran down the stairs.
“You’re going out, Bryce?” She looked at me with a sad face as she came out of the kitchen. “Your dad might stay for dinner.”
“Tell him I had to go out.” I gave her a big smile.
“Are you going to hang out with your friends?” She rubbed my head the way she did when I was a little boy and I gave her a hug.
“Yeah. I’m going to catch up with the crew,” I lied.
“But you’ll see them all tomorrow at the party.” She hugged me back, tightly, and I felt guilty for leaving her alone in the house when I knew that all she wanted was for me to be in the house somewhere.
“That will be impersonal.” I paused. “But I will try and get home early.”
“We could watch a movie together,” she said, eagerly, like a puppy looking for some love. “You could stop on the way home and pick something up.”
“I’ll try, mom.” I gave her a big hug and hurried out of the house, my heart tight. It upset me to see that my mother was even more of a frazzled mess than I remembered. She used to be strong, with a keen confidence that made many women envy her. Now, well, now I didn’t even want to think about the way my mother was.
I jumped into my car and turned on the radio. The loud, heavy metal music distracted me from my thoughts and I drove quickly to my old spot, fifteen minutes from town. I was anxious to get to Harpers Creek, so that I could finally relax and enjoy my surroundings without feeling cloistered.
Harpers Creek was a spot that not many people went to, it basically consisted of an old barn, next to a creek, in the middle of a bunch of fields. Old man Harper had died about forty years ago and had left the property to his sister’s kids, who lived in New York. They didn’t sell it, but they didn’t take care of it either, so it was overgrown and desolate. I loved it.
I frowned when I arrived. There was a car parked under the big oak tree and I listened to see if I could hear any noise as I shut off my engine.
My surroundings were silent and all I could hear was the sounds of the crickets and frogs, and the silence of the still night. I figured that maybe it was someone’s old car that they had left there. It looked pretty old so it wouldn’t have surprised me if it had broken down or something. I got out of my car eagerly, anxious to get down to the riverbank so that I could lie and watch the stars as I listened to the sounds of the water flowing. There was nothing that could soothe me more than Harpers Creek.
I walked, quickly and nimble footed, over the branches and pebbles until I came to the creek and took a deep breath of pure ecstasy. I was finally here; the place I had gone to in my mind every single day while at war.
“Hello?” a female voice called out to me and I nearly jumped.
“Hello?” I answered with a grunt, not wanting to make conversation.
“Are you safe?”
“Am I safe?” What was she going on about?
“You’re not going to kill me are you?’ she sighed. “I’ve had an awful night.”
Something about her voice was vaguely familiar, but I didn’t quite recognize it. “I don’t know that I’d tell you if I was going to.”
“It doesn’t matter anyways,” she sighed.
I looked around the bank, but couldn’t see where she was sitting. “Where are you, anyways?”
“I’m not going to tell you that.”
“Fine.” I rolled my eyes. “Well I’m going to sit down and not look for you, so you should be okay.”
“Thanks.” She let out a deep breath and I stood still, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. I couldn’t tell and shrugged my shoulders as I sat down. What did I care where she was or who she was? I had come here for solitude and was grateful that she hadn’t wanted to talk.
I lay back in the grass and looked up at the sky. It was a dark navy blue in color and the stars were shining brightly, as if each and every one of them wanted to lead me on a journey. I saw some constellations, but I wasn’t quite sure which ones they were because I hadn’t paid close attention in my astronomy class in high school.
“Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket,” sang the girl, wistfully, and I tried to ignore her. She sounded as depressed as I felt and I really didn’t need anyone else’s worries to bring me down.
“I’m a real boy,” she said, in a squeaky voice and I frowned.
“What?”
“I’m a real boy.”
“Sorry, I’m a bit confused.”
“It’s from Pinocchio.”
“Okay.” I wanted to say, and you are quoting Pinocchio because? But I didn’t care.
“Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down,” she sang out again and I sighed.
“It’s…” she began.
“I know it’s from Cinderella.”
“No, it’s from Mary Poppins.” Her voice was aghast at the fact that someone could have gotten the song reference wrong.
“Whatever.” I said, under my breath.
“No need to be rude.” Her voice seemed closer to me now and I looked back and forth. I saw a figure lying about ten feet away from me. I couldn’t really see what she looked like because it was so dark.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Her voice was low and I fought the urge to ask her what was wrong. “Do you like songs from movies?”