Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Light You Cast - 16. Chapter 16
“Hey, Sophie.” I sat out in the park with my phone to my ear, watching the pattern sunlight made on the grass through gently swaying leaves. “Only five more days before I get to see you.”
“Please make it come sooner,” Sophie groaned.
“You’ll get through it,” I said. “Just a little more.”
“Yeah. So how are things going with you?” she asked.
“Not too bad. I’ve been working a ton of hours so I can save money for the camping trip Jonathan and I are planning.”
“Oh? That sounds like fun.”
“Yeah. We’re going up to the forest next month and staying in a cabin for a week.”
“Man, I wish I could go! But I’ll be busy with summer school.”
“You’ll be busy making friends and living a normal life, I hope. How are you, anyway? Is your foster mom still being crazy?”
“She actually let me go to the last school dance,” she said. “I had to beg her. But she gave in. And since I followed all her insane rules, she’s letting me go to the lake with my friends this weekend to say goodbye. So things are looking up. I think she’s starting to realize I’ll be gone soon and she doesn’t want me to hate her guts when I leave.”
“Well, I guess it’s a start.”
“Better than nothing,” she said.
I took a deep breath. “So, I have something to tell you about. You’ll be proud of me, I think.”
“Oh yeah? What is it?”
“A few weeks ago, Jonathan and I talked to a lawyer about my case. She’s running a background check right now to find out if there are any charges on my record.”
“You mean, you actually talked to someone?” She sounded genuinely shocked.
“Yeah, and I talked to my therapist about it, too. I have a bottle of pills with my name on them as my reward.”
“Oh? Join the club. I’m actually surprised they didn’t give you something earlier. Anyway, you must be a wreck waiting to hear back from the lawyer.”
She was right, but not as much as I expected to be. I stood up and walked around the park as I talked, eyes following the birds and squirrels foraging around the trees.
“She said that no matter what they find, she won’t let me get thrown in jail without any warning. If I do need to serve time, there will have to be a court hearing and sentencing first. But she doesn’t think that’s what will happen.”
Sophie let out a breath through her teeth. “I really am proud of you, E.” She’d taken to calling me by my first initial, a compromise we landed on after I’d told her I didn’t want her to call me Elliot for the tenth time. “It’s kind of amazing to hear you talk about it without completely freaking out.”
“Yeah, these little pills help a lot.”
“No. No medicine is going to be that powerful. I might not be an expert yet, but I know enough to tell you that. You’re growing a lot.”
“Aw, thanks Soph.” Just then, my phone buzzed in my hand. “Hold on a second.” I pulled the phone from my ear and frowned down at the screen. The message I read made anticipation hit me like a hammer. Maybe Sophie was right - the pills were not all that powerful after all. I picked up my pace and aimed myself at the bus stop down the street.
“Hey,” I said to her breathlessly. “Jonathan’s telling me that the lawyer got some information back and she wants to see us.”
“Oh my god! Right after we were just talking about it? That’s a little spooky. Will you tell me how it goes, please?”
“I will. Talk to you soon, okay?”
“Okay. Bye!”
After we hung up, I saw a bus pull up and ran to catch it, waving an arm so the driver wouldn’t take off without me.
*****
“Hi, Elsie,” I said. “Hey, Jonathan.”
Jonathan waited for me in Elsie's office, but she wouldn’t say anything until I arrived. Today, she wore bright pink dangling earrings that matched the design printed on her tank-top. They made a clicking sound when she turned her head. Her office was cluttered with papers and stacks of file folders, but there were also a bunch of beanie babies with the tags still on piled around, some in boxes and some sitting up on shelves. Three of them adorned the top of her monitor. Maybe not the most professional touch, but they added some color.
I sat down, totally out of breath. Jonathan leaned in and gripped the edge of the desk. “What did you find?” he asked.
“Your record is clean,” she held up a finger as if to pause our reactions. “It looks like you were tried in absentia. That's probably because it was a clear case of self defense. But here’s the thing, boys. It wasn’t a murder trial. Ethan, your father isn’t dead. He’s currently being held at a prison in Calgary called the Remand Center.”
I stared at her like an idiot, heart thudding through my skull. Still alive? He was still alive? How could that be? My mind went completely blank for a moment, shock cutting off the electricity from my brain. When I realized I was still functioning, my vision had reduced down to a narrow tunnel. I felt like I was sinking backwards through the fabric of reality. When I looked over at Jonathan, he seemed half a mile away. Elsie was saying something, but my ears rang too loudly for me to hear.
I turned my hand out in front of me. In it, I envisioned the knife that I had used to stab my father. A serrated steak knife with spots of rust and a black plastic handle. I’d pulled it out of the silverware drawer.
I forced myself to recall every detail. It had entered his skull through his eye. I remembered the sensation of resistance, then give, and how the edge of the blade had scraped over the bone of his eye socket. He’d screamed loud enough to rattle my eardrums. Grabbed at my wrist and kicked me, his feet slipping around in the blood on the floor. Then he went still. There had been so much blood. All over my hands, all over the floor. How much of it was his? How much of it had been my mother’s? I remembered leaving the knife lodged in his skull and running to find Sophie. The blood had smeared on her clothes when I picked her up from the couch. I took her to the neighbor’s house, left a rusty fingerprint on their doorbell, and ran as fast as I could into the forest.
“How could he be alive?” I choked. The ringing in my ears took form in the shape of her voice, and her words fell into order somewhere in the middle of her answer.
“...that he lost an eye in the struggle. He was treated in the hospital prior to arrest and subsequent trial.”
“But Sophie would have known,” I said. “She would have said something.”
“You’ll have to work that out with her,” Elsie replied.
“I can’t believe it,” Jonathan said. “I really can’t.”
“It’s quite the case. And I’ve seen some grisly things in my line of work. I suggest you take some time to process what you just heard. Here’s the file with everything I’m allowed to provide for you.” She pushed a manila folder towards us. Jonathan took it. I didn’t trust my hands enough right now to even reach for it. “If any questions come up, feel free to give me a call.”
“Thank you so much,” Jonathan told her. “Your help really means a lot.” He tucked the folder under his arm and shook her hand. Numbly, I shook hers as well with a nod of thanks.
When we walked out the door, the world seemed suddenly very large, and I felt incredibly, impossibly small.
“All that time,” I said.
“Don’t say it,” he cut me off. “Let’s go to my place and talk about it.”
I gave a nod, but then when we sat on the bus, I fished out my phone. “I have to call Sophie,” I explained.
“Wait until we get—”
I ignored him, flipped open my phone, and dialed her number.
“That was fast,” she said when she picked up.
“Well, my record is clean, so there wasn’t much to discuss,” I said.
“What? That’s great news! Now you don’t have anything to worry about. So why don’t you sound happier?”
“Because of our dad! Soph, why didn’t you tell me he was still alive? Why didn’t you tell me he was in prison?”
“Wait a minute. Hold on,” she took a few breaths, and I could practically hear the gears turning in her mind. “Are you saying you didn’t know?”
I cast a glance around the bus and turned my voice down to a harsh whisper. “I thought I— I thought…” My voice trailed off and I steeled myself. “Sophie, I thought I killed him that night.”
“Oh, E. Really?”
I shook my head slowly. “I told you all about it, Sophie. Remember? It was the first time we talked.”
“No. You didn’t. You barely touched on ‘what happened’ and you weren’t specific at all.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said. “I can’t believe it.”
“Well? That’s what you get for avoiding reality and refusing to talk about things that are important.”
“I really wish you could have told me!” I knew it was a mistake the minute it came out. I could hear the anger snapping in with her breath.
“Then you should have talked to me years and years ago!” She yelled the last sentence loud enough that Jonathan heard and gave me a concerned look. “Then none of this would have happened!”
“I wish I did. I wish I had that kind of courage. I just didn't. And I can't go back and change it now. But I’m not running away anymore, Sophie.”
“Yeah. Well, dad’s rotting in jail and he has been for a long time. He won’t be up for parole for another fifteen years. And personally, I hope he dies in there.”
I swallowed, unable to respond. If that's what happened to him, I wouldn't complain.
“Well, my mom heard me shouting and now I’d better go. I’m sorry I yelled at you, okay? I just — I need to go. I’ll talk to you soon, E.”
She hung up as the bus pulled to a stop around the corner from Jonathan’s apartments. He and a few other passengers eyed me cautiously as we got out. We didn’t say anything until we got inside. There was too much to think about.
We both sat down heavily on the couch.
“I’m an idiot,” I said to start. “All that time I spent running away.”
“When kids are scared and traumatized, they run.” Jonathan countered.
“But for all that time? Sophie was right. It’s such a waste.”
“You didn’t have anyone you could trust, Ethan. I mean, look at me. If I hadn’t been lucky finding a decent family to live with, and then even luckier finding Rayna, I’d be totally lost. Who did you find? My crazy dad first. The Jamesons last, and we all know what a mess they are. I don’t even know what you put up with in between.”
“More of the same,” I said.
“So you weren’t ready to reach out until now. And why would you? You didn’t ever have anyone you could trust. That’s not your fault, is it?”
I shook my head slightly.
“Listen to me, Ethan. Look at me for a minute.”
I turned my head slowly and met his eyes. They looked that infinite way he had about him sometimes, like I could reach through them and find the stars.
The corner of his mouth crept up into the tiniest hint of a smile. “It’s done now. It’s over.”
“I can’t believe it,” I said. “It doesn’t seem real.”
He leaned in and gave me a soft kiss on the side of my cheek, eyelashes brushing against my temple. “Give it some time,” he said.
I did. I sat with all the new information and let it stew. My mind traveled through some of the memories from my childhood, for better or worse. The places I’d lived afterwards. The in-between times, the lonely rooms I’d occupied with only my journal as my companion.
“Jonathan?” I asked after a while. “What do you think would have happened to me if you never came to Alberta?” I asked.
He gave a small laugh. “You mean, what if I never hunted you down like an obsessed maniac, nearly died, and had to be dragged half-frozen out of the snow by the person I was stalking?”
“However you want to put it,” I smiled.
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
I thought for a minute. “I would have given up,” I said. “I think I would have.”
“I refuse to believe that. Someone else would have come along and forced you out of your shell. You’re way too sexy to be left alone.” He reached for my ribs and tickled his fingers up and down.
“Stop,” I laughed. Then I pulled him close to me and kissed him until neither of us had air to breathe. We gasped against each other’s lips and kissed again as we slowly melted into each other.
*****
It was the second week of June and Michael’s school year was over as of today. For weeks, the Gordons had been pressing Michael to tell them what character he would play in the big school production of the year, Peter and the Starcatcher. Jim brought it up every night we ate dinner together. He refused to say a word about it, smugly zipping his lips with his thumb and forefinger.
“You’ll just have to come to the play and find out when I make my debut,” he said wistfully. He even convinced the ushers not to give any of us a program as we were shown to our seats. Jim tried to sneak a peek at one that someone else was holding, but they gave him a funny look and scooted away.
The stage at Michael’s school looked massive. The ceiling was lit by dozens of tiny star-like lights, and we sat among hundreds of audience members filling rows upon rows of seats for opening night.
Mrs. Jameson sat to Rachael’s left. The divorce had gone quickly. Mr. Jameson hadn’t said a word of protest after she’d gotten a restraining order against him. She told me all about it the night before the play. She came to apologize to the Gordons, but she'd taken me aside and apologized to me for the terrible things she’d said about me. She hadn’t tried to make excuses, only expressed how horrible she felt for what she’d done to Leah, and how she treated me after I’d been there for her son. I accepted the apology cautiously. I knew it would take more time before I could trust her again, but I was willing to give her a chance.
Now I found myself caught between Jonathan and Leah on either side of me, while Sophie and Rayna sat at the end of our long row. Leah hopped up and down in her seat in anticipation of finding out what character Michael was going to play. It seemed a wonder to me that she had come back around so easily after the fear and hesitance she’d expressed around me just a few months ago. Mrs. Jameson must have taken some time to explain the truth to her.
The curtains opened on an empty stage, light shining down on a dozen actors. Some wore pirate costumes while others dressed like ragged Victorian era orphans.
"Those are all my costumes," Rayna whispered loudly down the row. "Which one do you think is Michael?"
Leah spotted him first. She gasped and pointed. “He’s wearing a moustache! And there’s a parrot!”
He played Black Stache, the pirate captain, and Beebee sat on his shoulder. On his cue, she squawked “Ay, me matey!” and the audience ate it up. Michael may not have scored the leading role of Peter, but he stole the spotlight whenever he was on the stage with his silly expressions and charisma.
Leah loved the play so much that she laughed until tears poked out of her eyes. She laughed so hard that it made me laugh, too, especially when I knew she didn’t understand the jokes to begin with. Jonathan frequently pointed to the actors and whispered back and forth with Rachael, while Joe giggled into his hand. Mrs. Jameson beamed more than she laughed. To me she seemed grateful simply to be there. Despite everything she put me through, I still felt a fondness for her, seated in the hope that she’d grow into a better life without being dragged down by Mr. Jameson.
We gathered outside after the show, chatting as we waited for the actors to come out.
“So you two are driving up to your cabin tonight?” Rachael asked. “You’ll be arriving there awfully late.”
“We’re just eager to get away from the city for a while,” I explained.
“Plus, I have an interview lined up for tomorrow morning,” Jonathan added. “I’m doing a piece on one of the rangers who works there.”
“Is it just me, or are you writing a lot more lately?” Rayna asked. Jonathan and I exchanged glances, then I gave him an encouraging bump with my elbow.
“I’ve actually been hired as a full time journalist, starting next month,” he said with a grimace somewhere between happy and nervous.
“Holy shit!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. Mrs. Jameson covered Leah’s ears.
Rayna squealed and wrapped her arms around Jonathan. With a laugh, he stumbled back a step before he caught himself and hugged her back.
“Does this mean you’re leaving me?” she asked.
“Well, I don’t have to leave entirely, I can still work on the weekends, and—”
“You’re going to visit on the weekends,” she clarified. She finally pulled back and gave him a look filled with so much affection that he blushed. “No use overworking yourself just to please me. You’re doing what you’re meant to do. Go be free.”
Rayna turned and gave Sophie a pat on the shoulder.
“Sophie’s going to come work for me now. Look at this dress she made. I think she’ll outshine you at alterations pretty fast, don’t you?”
Sophie gave an adorably shy smile. She was the shortest person there by several inches with black hair in a bob, wearing a wavy one-shoulder dress that I had assumed came from the costume shop. My jaw dropped. “Wait, you sewed that dress yourself?”
She nodded. “Yeah. My foster mom taught me a few things. I didn’t have a lot else to do, so…”
“Sophie, it’s beautiful.” Jonathan said. “I guess I don’t have to feel bad about leaving, then.”
“Not a bit,” Rayna said.
Michael came out then, and his mom went to him like a magnet. She squeezed him in a hug.
“Thanks for coming mom,” he said, eyes a little teary. “I’m really glad you could make it.”
Leah pushed her way in. “Me, too,” she said.
Michael laughed and squished her cheek. “I missed you so much.”
“You were amazing," Mrs Jameson said. "I’m so, so glad we could come and see you tonight. I just can’t believe my own son could be that talented.”
“I am pretty awesome, aren’t I,” Michael gave a cheesy smirk and Leah rolled her eyes. He stuck his tongue out at her and she smacked his leg. “So how long are you going to be in the city?" he continued. "Will we get to spend some real time together?”
“I sure hope so, because we’re moving here. I got my job transferred, and we found an apartment yesterday. It will be just us. We want to be close to you, without, well, you know. Without Jack interfering anymore. He's back in Calgary and he won't be welcome here.”
A worried expression crossed Michael’s face for a moment. Mrs. Jameson seemed to catch on right away.
“You can stay with the Gordons if you want to, Michael. I don’t want to uproot you and I know you’re happy there. I just want us to be close again.”
He relaxed. “Thanks, Mom. I’d really like that.”
We passed Michael around after that for hugs and congratulations.
Before we knew it, everyone was going their separate ways, and Jonathan and I were buckled into Rayna’s beat up little car. She’d let us borrow it for the trip. I turned the key in the engine and it sputtered up to a start.
“I can’t believe your sister’s going to take my place at the Attic,” Jonathan said as we took off. I couldn’t tell if his expression was intrigued or hurt. Maybe a little of both. “I’m really going to miss it.”
“Rayna will be really good for her, I think. “
“Rayna’s good for everyone,” Jonathan sighed.
“Are you jealous?” I asked.
He thought for a minute. “No, not exactly. It just feels like the end of an era. Obviously I couldn’t work there forever. But Rayna and the Attic mean a lot to me. I hope she doesn’t forget about me once I move on, you know?”
“How could she ever forget someone like you?” I asked, and that made him smile. I continued, a little softer. “Seriously, though. She loves you so much she would literally kill for you. You know this about her.”
“Yeah, I do,” he admitted.
“And she’s not the only one.”
He tilted his head at me. “I guess I just inspire that in people,” he said.
With a snort, I turned on the radio. Way Down We Go filled the air and we hummed along. One by one, the buildings of the city gave way to the trees of the forest. I rolled down my window and filled my lungs with warm, pine-scented air. Contentment came in waves along with the smells of the forest. I reached down and took his hand, and even though my eyes remained steady on the road ahead, I knew he felt the same way.
- 11
- 19
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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