Hugh's Pain - 9. Chapter 9

It was dark by the time Hugh arrived at the house. He sat in the truck with the headlights shining over the front porch for minutes before turning the key to shut off the motor. The tick of the cooling engine was the only sound as Hugh sat in darkness. He questioned his lack of emotion as his eyes adjusted to the night. He’d expected terror at being so close to hell… at least a modicum of fear… but there was nothing.

Hugh remembered times from his past were he’d felt such an emptiness. The day Jason came out, the day of his mother’s funeral, and the day of his father’s sentencing. They had all been times when he’d withdrawn from the world around him, days when he’d felt completely overwhelmed with the weight of his life.

“Why?”

The sound of his own voice startled Hugh, and he suddenly felt crushed under the pressure of past choices―both his and those of the people that had been closest to him. The front porch of his old home loomed in front of him, dark and foreboding. It seemed to mock him with its very presence. Hugh shook himself and left the cab of the truck, turning immediately once his feet hit the ground, away from the doorway to hell and toward sanctuary.

The trailer gleamed bright in the moonlight and Hugh could feel the weight of the house behind him wane. As he made his way to the door and into the small area beyond, his mind focused on two sets of green eyes. One set were closed forever whereas the other were only beginning to open.

Hugh knew well enough not to expect sleep, nor did he want it. The nightmares that would accompany him into the darkness were not welcome. Instead, he sat and lifted a well-used photo album from the floor. In it were the pictures his mother had taken as he had grown up. More than three quarters were of Jason and him together. The last time he’d looked through the book, he’d felt shame and pain. And although those emotions were present, Hugh found himself in a strange, quiet place as his fingers caressed the image of his childhood friend.

After going through the album for a few minutes, Hugh’s finger stopped its movements and settled beneath an image within the current photo. He picked the book up and looked closer at the people in the background. It was taken during their sophomore year at the last baseball game of the season.

She was there, sitting with a boy of about seven or eight―Ellen.

Hugh quickly scanned through the rest of the photos that had been taken at various games, but didn’t see her in any others. He wondered if Jason had been aware of her presence. Hugh didn’t think so. He was sure Jason would have mentioned it. Jason would have wanted to introduce them. Wouldn’t he? Still, what if he didn’t know―and what if she knew then that Jason was her brother? Was that why she was there?

Hugh snapped the album shut and raised his head to stare at the ceiling. All this circumspection, he thought, exactly what good is it doing me. None. I need to stop with the what if’s and look at the what now’s.

It wasn’t long after that Hugh decided to suck it up and go to bed. To hell with the nightmares―to hell with the house―to hell with this father.

Hugh woke rigid and covered with sweat, brought out of dark places and into morning light by a light tapping. Confused, it took him a few minutes to register that the noise was not coming from his head and to stumble into the living area to open the door. He was startled when he saw Toby and Rick standing in front of him.

“What are you doing here?” Hugh asked. He peered out the doorway and looked around. “Do your folks know that you two are here?”

Toby blushed as Rick shrugged and said, “I left a note.”

“You left a….” Hugh groaned and shook his head. “Your dad’s gonna have a conniption.” He stepped down from the trailer and leaned against the side. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“I want to know why you’re here?” Rick stared hard at Hugh. It was evident in his demeanor that Hugh was still on his shit list.

Hugh shrugged and tipped his head in the direction of the house.

“Used to live here, but then”―Hugh locked eyes with Rick―”you already know that. So, tell me, what brings you out to my own personal hell?”

“My uncle died because―”

“You need our help.” Toby squeaked out, interrupting Rick’s diatribe.

Hugh raised his eyebrows and looked at a blushing Toby.

“I do?” He gestured to Rick. “His reasoning I get. But how are you supposed to help me?”

Hugh figured Rick was about to start up again when Toby rested his hand on Rick’s arm and shook his head.

“I guess I just figured that if you were going to go in there” ―Toby nodded toward the house― “then you should have some support.”

Hugh looked closely at the boys.

Rick stood stock still with anger and defiance shining out of his eyes. But upon closer inspection, Hugh could see fear and insecurity shining out of those windows to the soul.

Toby was all innocence and boyish charm. He reminded Hugh a lot of his brother’s Toby, his nephew. They were giants in small packaging.

Hugh directed his attention to Rick.

“How often did you and your mom come to our games?”

He could see that the question unhinged the boy by the way his eyes blinked in rapid succession.

“Huh?”

“Our games, back when Jason and I were in school. I’ve got an album filled with photos my mom took… and I found one with you and your mom in it. Jason never told me and he didn’t introduce you, so I’m guessing he didn’t know.”

Rick just stood there looking at Hugh with a blank expression. Hugh waited for a few minutes before pushing away from the trailer and taking a step toward the boys.

“Oh, just forget about it,” he spouted. “I have enough on my plate without falling into your family’s webs of intrigue.” His gaze fixed on Toby. “And no, you aren’t going into that house with me. You may think I need help, but I don’t. There are things in there that I need to deal with. Things that I don’t want you involved with.”

Hugh saw the flinch in Toby’s eyes as he spoke, and could almost feel the air around the three of them heat when Rick’s defenses kicked in.

“Look, guys, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. Really, I do.” His eyes moved away from Toby and to the still dark front porch. “But there are things that happened in there…. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt. Okay?

“I did so much wrong back then. I shut myself off when I should have stepped up to the plate and swung. People suffered because of that. Someone I loved died because of that. I need to face myself now. And I have to do it alone.”

Hugh began walking but stopped at Toby’s side long enough to rest a hand on his shoulder.

“If you want to wait, you are welcome. Just… don’t go inside. Please.”

He waited for a nod before continuing on and climbing the steps to the front door.

Hugh sat in his childhood room and stared at the closed door. He’d wanted to start there―the first place he’d gone after shutting down on Jason. This was where he’d lost his way. What had happened in the café earlier that day was bad, but he could have fixed it then. He could have gone back and tried to explain what his thoughts had been. Jason would have understood. He would have forgiven him. After all, Jason knew Hugh’s father―sometimes it seemed he knew the man better than Hugh did himself.

The problem was that Hugh hadn’t known then what his thoughts had been. Could he figure them out now?

In the periphery of his vision, the rust colored stains were ever present on the walls but he forced himself to block them out. He didn’t want to start so close to the end.

He remembered the banging of Pat’s hands on the door and tried to make his mind go back further. Rapid blinking took over as the vision of his father’s face filled his thoughts. He’d been only six when the scene in his memory took place―dark anger as his father’s hand rose. It hadn’t connected because Hugh’s mother had chosen that moment to call for him, but the fear had been firmly implanted in his young mind. What was it that had caused his father’s anger? Hugh thought hard about that day. Whatever it was, it was the key to the blocks his mind would put him in during high stress.

When it hit him, Hugh made a mad dash for the bathroom, thankful that he hadn’t eaten any breakfast. Dry heaves racked his body while the memory of a frozen corpse, bruised and bloody, broken bones pushing through skin, floated in his vision.

He hadn’t meant to snoop. He’d just wanted to spend time with his daddy. All the other kids had daddies that played catch or other games with them. He hadn’t understood why his never wanted to and had figured that maybe if he went out back and asked, his daddy would see that they could have fun. When he’d seen his daddy digging, he’d just wanted to help. The next thing he knew, he was in his bedroom and his daddy was shouting at him.

“Don’t you say a thing. You understand me, boy? Nothing. God damn it. Are you listening to me?”

He was being shaken hard. And then he saw his daddy pull his hand back and just knew he was gonna die.

But he didn’t. His momma saved him. And his momma always would. But then….

Hugh ran cold water in the sink and splashed it onto his face. There it was… the root of all his fears. He couldn’t remember any other time that his father had mentioned or warned him about the incident in words, but in actions and in the looks he gave him….

When his mother died, Hugh had panicked and joined the Marine Corps the day after the funeral. He hadn’t thought about why, he’d just left.

Hugh left the house and started for the truck, completely forgetting about the boys. He was startled when, after climbing into the cab and starting the motor, the passenger door opened and the boys clambered inside.

“What?” Hugh shook his head and forced his body to relax back into the seat. He’d been so close to reaching out and committing a violent act to protect himself. “Shit. I forgot about you two. What are you doing?”

“What did you find?” Rick asked.

“We’re going with you,” Toby stated rather breathlessly.

“Look, guys, this isn’t a field trip.” The passenger door closed and both boys buckled in without answering. “What makes you think I’m taking you along? You don’t even know where I’m going. And you―” he pointed at Rick “―haven’t told your parents where you are, even more, you don’t even like me. How do I know that you aren’t just here to try getting me into trouble with your father? I’m sure you’d just love having him put me in jail for―”

“Stop!” Toby had seated himself between Hugh and Rick, and he raised his hands in a defensive stance.

Hugh took a deep breath and blew it out loudly. He had to calm himself. He knew scaring the boys was the wrong move to make. What he needed to do was to take them back to Rick’s house and drop them off. Then he wanted to go to the library. He needed to find out anything he could about the man he’d seen as a child.

But before he could put the truck into gear, Rick’s voice came to him at a barely audible level.

“I’ve been in your house.”

Hugh froze for a moment before turning to look at the boy. Rick’s head was down and he was fidgeting with the denim of his jeans. Toby sat very still, but in a position of protection. He seemed to be guarding his friend and the look in his eyes seemed almost accusatory to Hugh.

“Why?”

Rick sighed and turned his head to face the window. He shrugged.

“Was a dare.”

“And do you answer a lot of dares by invading other people’s privacy?”

“There hadn’t been anyone here in years. Not since I moved here. I didn’t figure it would hurt anything.”

“Did it?”

Hugh watched the boy’s shoulders slump. He wondered how far into the house Rick had gone. Had he gone down into the basement? His bedroom was messed up―stained with aftereffects of his father’s rage. But the basement… holes in the wall surrounded by the blood of his dearest friend… it was far worse than his childhood room.

Rick turned back to face Hugh. His face was drawn and gray.

“Gave me nightmares,” he said in a voice choked and hoarse. “They went away after a while but then you came back.”

“I take it you didn’t have a very good night?” Rick shook his head. “You think that you coming here is going to make the nightmares leave?”

Rick shook his head again. “No, but maybe if I understand what went down I can start to let some of the shit in my head go.” He raised his hand and then dropped it into his lap. “You know, not be so angry about it all the time.”

“Is that how your father got to you yesterday? He used your anger about what happened to your uncle to make you see what you were doing was wrong?”

“Partly. My dad is good at using a person’s own words and thinking to get them to see things differently. My head was just screwed up and he helped me straighten it out.” Rick gave Hugh a small smile. “He’s good at that. He could help you, you know.”

Hugh put the truck in gear and started forward. “Maybe,” he said, “I just might need some of his help.”