I closed my eyes with my arms out to my sides, losing all sense of reality, willing it to go away.
“Go get her.”
Lifting my head off the ground, I opened my eyes and looked around for the extremely loud voice. Not my voice either. “What?” I questioned, my eyes straining toward the dark shadow. “What did you say?”
Nothing. Silence, and a dizzy head.
“You’re drunk, Tobias. You’re just drunk,” I said. “Drunk and stupid. Drunk and stupid,” I repeated again just to make sure I heard myself. I drifted off into a coma, trying to hold onto something, searching for anything to believe in, and begging for some of Tristan’s magic. Any sign toward somewhere. I didn’t care where. Just not here. Not in this pain. Once I realized it wasn’t possible for it to go away without her, I prayed for death, and then I prayed for her. Again. That’s all I wanted. Tristan and Baby-T. That’s it. “Drunk and stupid.”
Chapter-Twenty-Eight
The sun shining directly down on my face the next morning warmed my cold body, waking me to my reality once again. I hated it; the stupid sun and its stupid vitamin D. My eyes squinted from the bright light when I tried to open them, feeling the pounding in my head. Groaning from the agony, I rolled to my side and stared at a rocky landing by the lake. I felt like I’d went to sleep with a cotton ball in my mouth, and the ache in my back and hip reminded me that I’d just used the rocky beach for a bed.
I came to my feet, running my fingers through my dirty hair, realizing how bad I needed a shower. Trying like hell to feel more anger than hurt, I left the broken glass only to turn around and clean it up. Tristan always left Mother Nature better than she found her. Even when it wasn’t her mess. Kneeling to the shards, I picked up the big pieces, thinking about the night before, I noticed the long white feather. A swan feather. Even though I didn’t even believe in any of that nonsense, I couldn’t ignore the fact that I’d asked for it. I cried and hurt for it until I passed out at an unknown time.
Once again, I smelled my sweaty armpits in the breeze, picking up the feather like it was the most delicate thing on earth. Feeling a little crazy, I listened to the voice in my head assuring me that I was. I even looked around to see if anyone was looking when my fingers trailed over it. It wasn’t coincidence. It couldn’t be. The story about the night Baby-T arrived and how afraid Tristan was when she found her own swan feather was too much the same. As much as I wanted to believe in that, the self-doubt won. I shook my head and let it go, watching it fall back to the ground. This was a lake. Swans lived in lakes. Glass from the broken bottle was what I focused on, but when it came time to go, I couldn’t leave it behind. I gave it a new home like a raving lunatic right beside the one Tristan had found. Stuck between the molding and the headliner in the van. If magical feathers would take me to her, I’d follow. That’s what I decided when I placed it right beside hers.
That’s when I recalled the loud voice in the dark. I backed out of the trail I’d made in a field to a dirt road in the middle of, I had no clue. Where I was and the time of day I was there didn’t much matter to me these days.
Go get her…Right. Like I’d even know where to begin. Who even knew where she was. For all I knew, she wasn’t even in this country. What the hell was I gonna do about anything? I didn’t even know where she was.
I stopped before hitting the main road to take a piss, feeling hungry and hung-over. A big juicy plate of sausage and eggs, maybe some toast for breakfast and then a giant steak or a half-pound of medium rare burger for lunch. What the hell did it matter now? Nobody I ever talked to gave a shit about what I ate. Hell, I didn’t even talk to anyone anymore. Not on purpose anyway.
As hungry as I thought I was, I drove for almost three hours, crossing state lines before I even realized it. Consciously, I didn’t even realize I was in Connecticut. I mean, I did. I just didn’t see the significance in it. I finally stopped in a town just after ten in the morning, deciding on a waffle house. When I sat at a little diner in a town I didn’t even know, I stared at the plate of photographed food on the menu I’d lusted over just hours before.
“Coffee?”
“Yes, please,” I said, my eyes blinking away my daze and the plate of meat in front of my face.
“Two eggs, hash browns, toast, and your choice of meat. That’s our special. Four-dollars,” she smiled.
I sensed the flirting wondering why. My oily hair was hidden behind a ball cap, I wore dirty corduroy pants, and there was a mustard stain on the S of my Superman shirt. The smell, that couldn’t be good either. I hadn’t showered in five hundred miles. That was about four days in actual time. I think. Keeping track of miles rather than minutes became my normal. It didn’t matter if it was five in the morning or five in the evening, it all felt the same. It all brought the pain. “Thanks, I think I’ll just have twelve grain toast, and fruit. Hold the strawberries.”
“Really? That’s the best part.”
“Not when they’re number one on the dirty list. Number one for chemicals. More pesticides than any other fruit on the list.”
“Yeah, I’m just gonna go put in your order.”
I watched the young girl walk away, feeling sad for her. Looking around the little dive, I felt sorry for everyone in there. Everyone in there was busy. All but one old man, smiling warmly at a little girl just outside the window, trying to balance herself on a concrete slab. Besides him, the patrons were on cell phones and one on laptop with papers all over the table. The little girl from outside sat in the booth right across from me with her mom. Of course they reminded me of Tristan and Baby-T. A painful ache of nostalgia touched my heart thinking about Baby-T being that age, that full of life, and that size. I wouldn’t get to see it. He’d take his first steps and say his first words without me.
The mom held her cellphone to her ear never pausing her conversation while she helped the little girl no more than three into her seat. “Yes, I’m not even joking. Jessica said it with her own mouth. Of course she was drunk. That’s the only reason she said anything, but you can’t say anything to anyone and if you do, you better not mention my name,” the mother quietly spoke.
I smiled when the little girl looked over at me, realizing that it was my first smile without her. She looked away when the same waitress offered drinks.
“Hang on, Char, the waitress is here. I’ll have coffee and she’ll have orange juice.”
“No, Mommy, I wanted to have chocolate milk. Member?”
“Give her chocolate milk and I’m ready to order. We just want pancakes.”
The little girl put in her own order, knowing more what she wanted than her mom did. “And, and, and, I wanna have strawberries and snow.”
“Whip cream. You can put that on mine, too,” the mother requested, jumping right back into her gossiping conversation, pausing to get after the rambunctious toddler or for the other party to speak here and there. “I wasn’t the only one who heard it. Stop or I’m going to put you in a highchair.”
“Why? I wike a salt.”
The mom snapped her fingers, giving the little girl an angry glare and continued her two-sided conversation, bouncing from the phone to her child. “We were all there, Janie, Leigh, Margo, Benny, Tammy, Chase, and one more. Olivia, stop licking the table. That’s disgusting. Oh, Caroline. She was the other one.”
“I not wike pepper cause my tongue not wike it, too. Hey, my Daddy have dat truck. Wook. Wook, Mommy. It’s blue. See. Mommy. See. It’s like Daddy’s truck.”
“Oh my God, Oliva. Will you stop? I’m on the phone and you’re being rude. Yeah, right there in front of everyone. You know it’s going to get back to Misty.”
Little Olivia moved on to the napkin holder before her mom pulled out a tablet, grabbing the napkins from her hand with another angry glare. “You don’t admit to doing someone’s husband in the middle of a bar without a shit storm. Olivia Noel, if you don’t quit. Here, watch Sponge Bob. Especially in Moorehaven. You know?”
I raised
my arms for my bowl of fruit and toast, sliding my cup for a warm up. “Thank you.”
I ate half my breakfast, feeling bad for a little girl I didn’t even know. In the blink of an eye, she went from being vibrant and full of life, to being programmed to shut down by a talking sponge. It made me sad, and Tristan was right. Her mom was missing it and she could never get it back. Six months from now she wouldn’t remember the superficial conversation, but her little girl would be bigger, and she was going to miss it. It was hard not to judge because it was hard to admit that this was me before I’d met Tristan. I missed the moments too; the silence between the notes or the pause in a sentence. Those moments where a blink could mean a miracle. It’s a good thing Tristan wasn’t here. She wouldn’t have been able to leave without standing up for the kid. Reminding myself that not even four months before, my phone was stuck to my hand, too, I took a deep breath turned my attention back to my own karma. Tristan wasn’t here to save the day, and it wasn’t my place to throw rocks. My house was made of glass, too.
Tristan was right about one thing. Once you woke up and started to be aware, you couldn’t get unaware. You couldn’t go back to sleep. That made me angry. At her. I shouldn’t even be giving a shit about some kid I didn’t even know. As hard as I thought I had it before, without a doubt, it was much easier than this. I would rather follow a heard and be a sheep all day long than feel this constant vacant pain. Gaining likes and followers were a lot less impactful than this. Seeing this little girl shut out wasn’t easy for me. It hurt my heart and that wasn’t something I was accustomed to, nor did I take lightly.
Deciding once again that she wasn’t my kid, I stood and dropped a ten to the table; more than enough to cover my breakfast plus a nice tip.
My movement was just enough to distract the little girl and she came to her knees, forgetting about the cartoon in front of her. I paused just past their table when her mom tapped her long nail over the screen, pointing out what some a squirrel was doing to keep her distracted. I willed my feet to move, trying to mind my own business. This wasn’t my genre, it was Tristan’s and my words didn’t flow sweetly like hers did, yet I did it anyway. Mine sounded mean and angry. I spun around quickly, and hung up on her friend, placing her phone between my hand and the table.
Had I seen the waitress coming with their food first, I may have changed my mind, but it was too late. I was all in. “This little girl has been trying to talk to you since you sat down here and all you’ve done is shut her out. She’s got this imagination that’s wide opened and needs to be carefully nurtured. She’s at a very impressionable age and you’re teaching her to shut down and care more about who Jessica is fucking than this moment. This one right here that you’re never going to get back.”
The strawberry thing came to mind when I saw the pancakes, but I didn’t mention them. I walked out angrier than before I’d said anything, and not because she called me a freak and then an asshole either. If it made her stop and think the next time she shoved a tablet in her kid’s face to shut her up it was worth it, but I had my doubts. I made a pact to myself not to get that involved again. My name wasn’t Tristan Swan and I didn’t want to change the world. I didn’t even want to live on it.
Driving through a very patriotic town somewhere in Connecticut, I glanced out at all the flags thinking about the Fourth of July with Tristan and baby, T, but only for a second. It was too early to go there. I’d be drunk by noon if I started already. Instead, I looked for a gym to grab a shower and the cheapest gas station. As I slowed at a red light, I looked up to a banner running across all four lanes of traffic. The sign was for the Republican Party at the square at noon today. My heart beat a little faster when I saw who the guest speakers were. Vanna and Clay Wise. Why it mattered to me was unsure yet. It wasn’t like I could use her to get to Tristan. I wouldn’t even be able to get close to her. The same guy that slammed my face into the pavement when they took her, would probably do the same thing. But…I could follow them. Maybe.
The horn behind me and the realization that today could have been yesterday or another day, pulled me from my daze. With my luck, I’d probably missed it anyway. But I hadn’t and once again the adrenaline started, pumping quickly through my veins. For the first time in over two weeks, I looked at my phone for something other than a message. September the eleventh. My birthday. That explained all the patriotic paraphernalia everywhere.
After a shower and a shave at a local gym, I did laundry, and got a haircut. I had a decent pair of jeans, but not really a shirt. Needing an outfit for a Republican rally hadn’t really crossed my mind. A plain white tee would have to do.
At just after noon in the afternoon on my eighteenth birthday, I made my way to the square where a local was already speaking about a very important levy and what it meant for the school district. The crowd grew as time went on, but not crazy. At least people weren’t on top of each other. I looked around, mostly observing what was going on around me, searching for their arrival, feeling more and more anxious. I’m not sure what I thought. Nothing really. Thinking didn’t really work when you were stuck in a tragedy and running on adrenaline. It wasn’t like they would have any idea at all who I was and there was no way Tristan would be there. Nonetheless, I was nervous as hell with zero thoughts about what I thought I was doing.
I’m not sure I’d ever felt so much anger for someone in all my life. Not even my own mother. Looking at Clay Wise and the way he waved out to the audience, pretending be something he wasn’t, I felt an immense amount of hate. The two of them stood up there side beside, spewing lies, promising jobs, better education, health care, and change. An hour of nothing but bullshit, and bad acting. It was so ridiculous. Neither one of them even answered the questions, not with real answers. They weaved around it, acting, performing, and fooling their audience into thinking it was time for a change. That word was tossed around quiet regularly. Change. Change. Change. All lies tossed out to a bunch of sheeples, cheering for change with their cell phones in the air. No wonder Tristan couldn’t stand this shit. It left a bad taste in my mouth, too.
I wandered away from the crowd nonchalantly in search of their getaway car, trying to tell myself how crazy the idea was as it entered my mind. Only I didn’t even have an idea, no plan whatsoever. Even I wasn’t gullible enough to think I was just gonna walk right up to their door and take her away. She probably wasn’t even there. Hell, just because they were in their home state, didn’t mean they were even going home. With my luck, this was a month long tour. I could be following them clear across the country and still never find her. Nonetheless, I was one step closer to her than I was.
The Wise couple ended their debate with an invitation to an auction in their hometown of Hartford for some benefit auction or something later on that same not. Even after sitting in my van and pulling out behind them, I didn’t really know what I was doing. One black car, an SUV and another black car, all with windows so dark you couldn’t see who was who. Pulling into traffic behind them I thought again how ridiculous it was. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.
But it was. It really was that easy. Like taking candy from a baby. I kept my van a few cars back for forty-five minutes, never thinking I would follow them to their front door. The three car convoy broke up when the SUV took the second exit, and so did I. Right toward the Hartford County Fair Grounds, and then to Casselberry Lane.
Following, slowly behind, we entered a neighborhood sure to make my van stand out like a creeper van. Amazing homes lined both sides of the street on large lots with some sort of red leafed trees running down the middle. I pulled close to the curb a few houses back when I saw Clay pull up to the mail box of a gigantic brick home house and into their driveway. Only it wasn’t him. Assuming Clay was with one of the cars that kept going, I watched Vanna pull into the circle drive and get out, her eyes on the envelopes, flipping in her hand.
Now was the time for a plan, only there was no time. My eyes lifted to an upstairs window all by the
ir self. One second she was there and the next she wasn’t. The thought of her rushing down the stairs and finally back to me, gave me a false sense of reality, and I reacted on impulse. I jumped out of the van and ran across the road and to the door without thinking. Like it was going to be that easy twice.
“Tobias, what are you doing?”
“Tobias?” Tristan’s mom exclaimed with her phone already to her ear.
“Tristan, please talk to me. Please. I’m begging you.”
Her mother walked toward me angrily, her eyes glancing around the neighborhood and back to me. “Get out of here. Get out of here right this second.”
“Tristan!” I screamed around her, not about to leave without a fight. “I just need five minutes. Just let me see Baby-T. Please, Tristan. God I miss you so much.”
I could hear her mom reporting my trespassing while she walked to the door, but I didn’t really care what she said. Tristan’s voice was the only one I was interested in. It was shaky and anxious, and it didn’t sound like her at all. I didn’t like it. “Tobias, Oh my God. You’re so stupid. Get out of here.”
I stood there screaming when a maid ushered them both inside and closed the door. I continued to scream as loud as I could, feeling I don’t even know what. Desperate, afraid to be stuck in another tragedy. I begged with my life because that’s all I had left. I was so close. She was right there and I wasn’t leaving without her. It wasn’t even physically possible for me to leave without her. I’d die, and I honestly I didn’t think I could endure much more of that. My voice was hoarse by the time I saw the cop car, but I didn’t give up. Not for one second did I stop trying, begging, and crying with all the fight I had in me. I was going to go to jail and this was all for nothing. Anger suddenly took over directed toward her, and I cursed the day met her, my voice loud and full of rage.