Part 4 (1/2)
”It's been longer for me.” I changed the subject. ”It's nice having company.” I was still sitting up, my knees against my chest.
”Hmm...” He said, like he wasn't sure how to reply to that.
”What are you afraid of?” I didn't look at him. I just stared down at the half-eaten coyote body. It seemed morbid. He might have been the last coyote on this dead planet and we just caused the extinction of an endangered species. h.e.l.l, at this point, I was an endangered species-survival of the fittest. It was starting to smell. I blamed the uncooked side and thought about dragging it back to the cave entrance.
”What exactly are you asking?” His tone was devoid of emotion.
”You seem hesitant to open up to me in the least bit. Anytime I ask a semi-serious question, you laugh it off, change the subject, or ignore it all together.” I wished I had Teffy right about then. I didn't want this to turn into an argument, but it seemed I didn't have a choice.
”I don't know what you're talking about, and besides, it's none of your business.”
This man was exasperating and quickly p.i.s.sing me off.
”Well, at least give me your name.”
”No, Blondie. Leave it.”
”Why? Tell me.”
”I said it's none of your business.” Okay, he was getting angry. I hate that I had to go and ruin our perfectly good meal, but I couldn't help that I was curious; I wanted to understand him better.
”I'm tired of thinking of a stupid gas station every time I say your name. I want your real one.” I stood up and looked down at him.
”I'm positive I said that I don't do names. Leave it at that.” He turned away from me, but I didn't miss the fact that his face was turning red with anger.
”I noticed. By the way, my name is Elle. Elle Stevens, to be exact. What's yours? John? James? Brian? William? Peter? Steven? Say when, Tex.”
”Stop.” He stood up and walked deeper into the cave where the coyote came from. I followed him.
”You're not running away. Stop hiding already. You have the right to your own secrets, but if we're going to be friends, if we're going to try to live together for a while, you're going to have to let me in. There's no better way to start than telling me your name.”
”Go away, Blondie.” He stopped. Darkness surrounded us; it was thick and inky. I almost ran into the back of him, and before I knew it, I was flat against the cave wall. The jagged rocks dug into my back. Tex's hand was against my chest, pinning me. I couldn't move without the crags digging deeper and more painfully into my back. I showed no fear.
”I want to help you.” I rested a hand on his forearm. ”Just let me.”
”We have to go if we're going to make it to the next safepoint in time.”
”Fine, but at least tell me why you won't tell me your name.” I didn't know why this mattered to me so much, but it did. He was my friend and I had this desperate, innate need to protect and heal my friends. It had always been that way. It may have been in hibernation the last four years, but it just came back in full force.
He was silent for several seconds and then said, ”Because it was the last thing out of her mouth.” He walked right by me, packed his things, and waited for me at the entrance. ”And I don't want it to be the last thing out of your mouth or anyone else's.”
Night had come and so had his first confession.
[ Tex ]
I was furious. I was full to the brim with memories I refused to remember. They threatened to spill over and weaken me, but I wouldn't allow it, especially in front of someone I had just met. I was p.i.s.sed at myself for giving away as much as I had. It was none of her d.a.m.ned business. That didn't seem to faze her a bit though. She was clawing at my barriers, desperate to save me. I didn't need saving, and if I did, I had no desire to be.
With around an hour left until sunrise, we were almost to the next safepoint. The kid had stopped nagging me and I greatly appreciated it.
”Tex?” She had been trailing behind me since we left, giving me the s.p.a.ce I needed to reflect. After giving her that little tidbit of information earlier, I thought it would have been bombs away with the inquisition. I heard her pick up her pace until she was walking beside me. I pretended to be looking down at the map. ”I'm sorry about ha.s.sling you earlier.”
”Don't worry. There's no point in holding grudges.” I rolled up the map; there were only a couple of miles left to go.
”Who was it?”
I spoke too soon. I knew what she was talking about and I ran my hand over my head. She was right about that. I did it again because I could. Maybe what I was going through was what she went through. I could tell that it hurt her to tell me her parents were dead and the fact that she believed it to be her fault was a whole other story. It was as if just saying the words aloud made it real and she didn't want it to be real. When she said it though, it seemed as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, like she could finally lay her parents to rest and be the person she used to be.
That was it. Was this an epiphany? Maybe I was in the same dilemma she was and I had to see her go through a similar situation to realize it. I didn't want to lay them to rest though. I refused to let them go; if I did, I would have to admit to myself that I wasn't able to save them, that they were gone for good. I knew it wasn't directly my fault that they died, but I also didn't save them. I should have been able to. I should have tried harder.
The same moon was reflecting the same sun, blanketing the desert with the same shy light, dulling the stars in the same sky. The dirt we walked on was the same rocky stuff that had been there for centuries. Nothing was changing around me and it made my life so incredibly mundane. I needed a change and I couldn't believe it took this kid and her incessant bugging to realize it.
”My wife.” I answered and something lifted. I felt lighter.
”I'm so sorr-”
”And my daughter.”
Chapter 7.
[ Elle ]
I stopped so abruptly that dust sprang up, whirled around my legs, and softly fell back to the ground. I was choking on words I hadn't even thought of to say yet. I absently looked down at my arms; there was a splotch of blood in the curve of my elbow I had missed while cleaning. What could I say to that? I knew anything said to me about losing my parents wouldn't have helped. It's just nice to know that someone cares.
”I'm so...so sorry.” I wished I was an eloquent speaker. Sorry could never express how I truly felt about his situation.
He was a father. He didn't have his daughter any longer, but he'd always be a dad. Suddenly the last few days flashed back to me: his playfulness, his desire to heal my wounds, the empty look in his eyes. I recalled him poking me and tugging my braid. It made so much sense now-he wasn't just patronizing me because of my height like I had originally thought. I imagined his daughter and how he probably acted with her-a little girl on his shoulders, her arms wrapped around his head, giggling with delight. I envisioned him tossing her into the air before catching her, a grin on both of their faces.
And his wife. He was a widow. Something panged in my chest. He had loved a woman so completely that they'd married and had a child. He was a family man and everything I had learned about him thus far proved opposite of that fact. He hadn't always been hiding behind his self-erected barrier. I suspected the loss of them had caused him to build that st.u.r.dy, unbreakable wall.
Tex had stopped several yards ahead of me. His back was to me. I wanted to see his face. Would his barriers still be up? How long would he continue to barricade himself behind them? I slowly made my way over to him; I was afraid of what I might find.
”Stop.” He didn't move.
I was so close to him I could hear his breathing. It was labored. Was he crying? Maybe he didn't want me to see him that weak. I chewed on my bottom lip. I wanted so badly to help him.
”Do you want to talk about it?” I hesitated between each word, wis.h.i.+ng more than anything that he'd say yes.
”What the f.u.c.k do you think?” That smarted. He rubbed his face, sighed, and said, ”I'm sorry.”
”I only want to help and try to understand.” I reached for him, but dropped my hand back down to my side.
”Blondie,” he groaned with frustration, ”I don't want these memories to resurface.”
”I found that ignoring them is worse.” I gathered my courage and placed my hand against his shoulder blade.
He dropped to the ground, kneeling. I followed suit and knelt across from him. I cupped my hands over his knees. He recoiled at my proximity and touch, but I didn't move. He had to realize that I was there to help, not to emotionally maim him. He looked at the moon and I knew he was mentally estimating how much time until sunrise.