Learned to Lie - 1. Chapter 1

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” my little brother said after I got out of my hand-me-down truck. It was more than a hand me down, it was my Grandpa’s truck, that became my Dad’s work truck. Then my older brother took over the wheel four years ago, and now for about two months it belonged to me. The bed had rust spots all the way through and the brown color wasn’t the original shade, it had once been black. It had cracked leather bench seats that were just as faded as the rest of the truck. The air conditioning didn’t work, but the heat did and after all these years it still smelled of grandpa’s chewing tobacco.

Dad being a mechanic got more decades out of it than anyone else. That is why I have it now and I will be driving it until it wheezes and sputters just too many times for him to put it back together.

“Why?” I asked as I heard shuffling behind the front door. He was sitting at the base of the stairs. Hearing his warning I paid him more attention. His eyes were big and unblinking up at me. His usual steadfast smile was nowhere to be seen. His bottom lip was sticking slightly further out and when it trembled and his eyes glossed over with tears I looked back towards the door.

“Mommy told me to sit outfside,” he answered, his voice falling to a quiver. “She is really mad.”

“It’s alright Cody,” I said as I started up the stairs again. My older brother was also a bit of trouble for them these days. Two years out of high school he hadn’t made up his mind on college or going into a job. He barely stayed anywhere for longer than a month and he came home and left whenever he pleased. Had a girlfriend that already had a couple pregnancy scares that turned out to be late periods, but he wouldn’t learn and I thought maybe he had finally crossed the line.

I didn’t get to the front door though, as soon as my foot hit the porch it swung open and Mom stood with Dad hovering behind her. Seeing them, I realized my brother wasn’t the reason for scaring Cody and him sitting outside. It was me they had been waiting for and I was just coming home from baseball batting practice.

“Inside,” Mom ordered, and I saw her jaw muscles clench as she stepped aside. Dad had to move out of her way, but with the door now standing wide open, I didn’t want to leave the front porch.

“What’s this about?” I asked as I adjusted my baseball bag back up on my shoulder.

“Now!” She yelled as she uncrossed her arms to point to the door frame where the hardwood started. The house was older, well lived in. Dad bought it from my grandparents when they wanted to downsize and live down the road. This was a family home, four small bedrooms were just enough for all of us. It smelled of age, but I always liked it here. The old white wooden paneling all around the house dated it instantly. The working shutters over tall windows didn’t help it none, either.

When Mom yelled, Cody shot off the bottom stair and when I looked over my shoulder, I saw him disappearing around the corner of the house to the back yard. I hoped he stopped there and didn’t keep on running into the hay fields, they belonged to our neighbor. He didn’t mind us playing in it, but it was also going to be dark soon, everything had the orange glow of late summer.

Swallowing I walked across the wooden porch, hearing the creak of the notoriously creaky board that caught me out past curfew, and stepped into the house. The cool air didn’t help anything, it should have been slightly warmer in here from Mom cooking supper. There was no evidence of that as I looked into the kitchen and when I cleared the front door, I jumped when I heard it slam behind me.

“You have five minutes to get your things and get the hell out of my house,” Mom said at the back of my head.

“What?” I asked as I turned to face them.

“Bring me the laptop Westley,” Mom ordered, her voice had a slight growl to it that I never heard in my life, no matter what kind of meanness that I got up to. She was typically soft spoken, always fair, never completely irrational like she was right now.

Hearing Wes’s name I looked over at the couch to see him sitting there. When he caught my eyes he smirked and grabbed the laptop off the coffee table. Seeing it in his hands I followed it all the way up to where he met Mom, with Dad hovering over her shoulder looking sick to his stomach.

I watched her pull the screen from the keyboard, a lot harder than necessary. When it popped in response I thought she broke it, but when the screen flashed to the password screen I watched as Wes awkwardly typed in the passcode while Mom held it in her hands. When it cleared the screen, I felt my stomach turn. I knew as soon as I saw the laptop what this was about and when Wes found the browser history and loaded it up, I looked up towards the stairs.

“There it is,” Wes said, his voice lower and more husky than usual.

“Are you going to explain yourself, son?” Dad started, but I heard a crash before I turned back to face them. Mom had slammed the laptop down and it had broken in half. She threw it with enough force some of the keys flew off and scattered across the floor.

“Four minutes, Joel,” she hissed. “No pervert is going to be living under my roof.”

“Can’t we talk about this?” I asked, turning fully back to face them both. Dad and Wes were both staring down at the wrecked laptop, but Mom’s eyes were shooting through me. They were brown, but looked darker. Her normally brushed out hair was starting to curl and fly away. She was still dressed from work, a receptionist at the local hospital. She had worked there since we were little.

“I told you to get out of my house,” Mom repeated, her voice more cold and softer than the last time she spoke. It would have been better for her to be yelling, this side of her was completely foreign to me. All I could see was that she had lost her love for me, it was like a switch that had turned off for her and I knew it wasn’t supposed to be like that.

“Dad?” I asked turning away from her, but when I did I saw her rush forward and grab my shoulder. I felt her nails dig into my skin and she forced me to turn back to her.

“Get your things and get the hell out of my house, I won’t say it again,” she said, her voice falling to a whisper. It was unwavering, no sign of a crack or a stutter. There were no tears about to fall from her face. I was about to fall apart in front of her and she had never looked more made of stone.

“I’ll leave if you just talk to me,” I said as I pulled myself out of her grip and looked back towards Dad, but when I saw him look away I knew I was alone in this.

“You said you needed that thing for school work,” Mom said as she glanced down at the mess on the floor. “You were looking at that, that filth, and while Cody slept in the room next door.”

“Mom,” I started and when the palm of her hand slapped across my face I jolted backwards. It wasn’t a hard slap, I was more than a foot taller than her. The woman that I knew my entire life had never struck any of us, not even a spanking.

“Three minutes,” she said, “and what you don’t take I’ll be sending off to the Goodwill.”

“You can’t just kick me out, I’m your son,” I countered as the sting finally broke through and I winced and reached up to touch my cheek.

“You’re not my son, my son wouldn’t be like that,” she said and for the first time her voice did break, but she turned completely away from me and walked into the kitchen. I watched as she smoothed an apron out and looped it over her head and tied it around her waist. She was going to start supper like any other normal day of the week.

“You better get a move on it,” Wes said and when I turned to look at him he had left Dad’s side and walked back around the coffee table. When he sat down he pulled out his phone without a second glance in my direction, his long hair that Mom didn’t approve of falling around his face.

“Dad,” I whispered and when he looked up at me, I saw the tears that I had wanted to see from any of them after I stepped through the front door. They hadn’t fallen down his face, just glossed over his eyes, but when I stepped towards him, he shook his head and held up his hand. It was stained with oil or grease having just come over from the garage he worked at.

“Go get your things, son,” he said and he too turned away from me and walked into the kitchen.

“Wes, why the fuck would you show them that?” I asked as I sat my bag down in the middle of the living room floor.

“Thought they needed to know what was living under their roof,” he answered and when he smirked I wanted to jump over the coffee table and kick his ass.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” I said and when I heard the pot Mom had gotten out of the cabinet hit the kitchen floor I looked over to see her storming back towards me.

“Get the fuck out of my house Joel!” She yelled and I saw Dad’s strong arms grab her, bringing her up short of the stairs.

Knowing I had nothing else to say, I looked back up the stairs. My heart was hammering in my chest and a cold sweat broke across my skin. My legs felt heavy when I finally started walking. That seemed to satisfy Mom as she wrestled herself out of Dad’s grip and walked around him back into the kitchen. I didn’t look at Dad as I started up the stairs, taking each step slowly, my cleats that I hadn’t changed out of because I was trying to break them in, threatened to slip and send me falling back down the stairs.

When I hit the second floor, my mind on a numb auto-pilot I walked down the dark hallway to the second closest bedroom right across from the upstairs bathroom. Opening the door I saw that my room hadn’t been touched. I half expected a suitcase to be packed and waiting, but the only thing gone and out of place was the laptop. The laptop I only let Wes use because he told me he wanted to fill out a few college applications. I had been proud of him for finally making a two years too late decision and start settling himself down. He had been in a rush and I hadn’t cleaned up the browsing.

I had nowhere to go, knowing that held me up as I looked around my room. All my family were more or less the same. None of us too religious, only going to church on Easter and Christmas more out of tradition than anything. Cody was in the plays. Gran and Pa were both dead, they died a year apart two years ago, they were Dad’s parents. Mom’s parents were still alive and lived on the other side of the country with my aunt and uncle. They were Mormons and even that bothered Mom.

I knew I should have been more careful. I had always felt it was some sort of sick joke for me to turn out gay and witness the reactions Mom had to anything close to me. The head shake and the muttering. She never said anything bad, not aloud, but she would listen and nod when someone else did. Dad was always stone faced, never political or too talkative with anyone as it was anyway. More like Cody, he had a smile that came easy to him and met everyone the same way no matter what they looked like. He judged them more for how they treated their cars, shaking his head and grumbling when small problems had been left to become big ones.

I didn’t have anything left in here that I wanted to take with me. I suddenly had little energy to think. I knew I should grab a bag and start packing clothes. The small stash of money working summers with Dad was tucked up into my box springs, unless Wes found that hiding spot too. Instead I backed out of the room after turning off the light and gently closed the door behind me after laying my phone down on the bed.

I was a few steps in before I realized I was walking to the last bedroom on the left. It was across from Westley’s bedroom, it was where I went when I was scared as a little boy. Opening the door to my parent’s room, I let it glide open. I looked back down the hallway to see it empty, the carpet muffling most of my footsteps. Dad’s nightstand had three things in it. An old revolver, a picture of grandpa standing in front of some old sleek black car that I couldn’t name, and his bible given to him by gran. The gun was on top of the bible, grimacing, I gently lifted and felt the heaviness of it in my hand. I did a quick check to see that it was loaded, but Dad slept easier knowing that it was. He trusted all of us not to bother it by now, even if Cody was a lot younger than me at ten.

Gently sliding the drawer on the nightstand closed, I walked quietly out of the room ignoring all the family photos on the wall as I tucked the revolver into my waistband before pulling my shirt over it. I didn’t wonder when my pictures would be taken down, maybe Dad would put his foot down, but I wouldn’t be here to witness it.

Walking back down the narrow hallway, I smelled the food cooking before I heard the pan frying what smelled like chicken. There were no voices that carried up the stairs to me, no hint of the television. When I started down the stairs I heard Mom start up the mixer, I jumped at the sudden sharpness of the sound and when I hit the bottom stair, I met Dad. He was still standing awkwardly between the kitchen and living room. I didn’t look over at him, I didn’t want to beg him to let me stay, no one here was really here anymore. I felt the distance like a sudden ripping off of a bandaid and the mixer chased me on out of the house, my baseball bag still sitting in the middle of the floor.

Outside was no better, but when I closed the door beside me I took three deep breaths. It was summer, the humidity felt heavy in my lungs, but I was used to it. It was also falling into dark, but I could still see the sun hovering just above the horizon through the treeline. It was going to be a late supper for them.

“Where will you go?” Cody asked as he peeked around the corner of the house to where I stood on the front porch.

“I don’t know,” I answered, his voice pushing me forward. I didn’t want his to be the only goodbye I was going to get.

“You will come back,” he said and I offered him a brief smile as I started down the wooden stairs, having successfully stepped over the creaky board on the porch.

“Go on in the house, Cody,” I ordered as my feet found the old concrete sidewalk. It was a little uneven, but not enough to catch a person off balance.

“Don’t leave, Joey,” he said and I frowned hearing him use the name he used to call me when he was too young to say Joel. He only slipped up when he was upset. “Mom will forgive you, whatever you did, I know she will.”

“She might,” I answered, offering him another smile. “Now go on inside, supper is about ready.”

“Stay,” he pleaded and this time I heard the crack in his voice that stopped my slow walk down the sidewalk towards my truck.

Turning on the sidewalk, I watched him come fully around the corner and when he cleared it, he broke into a run and crashed into my body. Luckily he had grown a lot over the past few months and his arms wrapped me around the middle of my back just above Dad’s old revolver. I let him cling to me for a few seconds before I grabbed his shoulders and gently pulled him off me. The last thing I needed was to be here when Mom came looking for him.

“There is some money up under my bed, look for the hole in my box springs,” I said looking down at him. “Don’t tell Westley about it, but you can use it for whatever you want.”

“No,” he whispered as he started shaking his head.

“Now go on inside before Mom comes looking for you,” I said and when he heard me mention her he blinked the tears out of his eyes. I heard him sniffle as he stepped around me and I looked over my shoulder to see him bounding up the stairs.

Turning away from him I rushed for my truck digging my keys out of my pocket and opened the door. Climbing in, I shoved the key into the ignition and listened to the old truck roar to life and then rumble as it idled. Closing the door, I flipped on the headlights and turned off the radio. Breathing deeply I backed out of the driveway and onto the road without looking to see if it was clear or not.

It only took a minute of driving down the road for me to realize that I had nowhere to go. No one I could stay with that wouldn’t ask questions. Mom wouldn’t be telling my shameful secret to anyone, but word would catch on anyway. Someone would pick the right thing to spread around and it will stick and it will follow me. As it did, I would lose friend after friend until I had no one anyway.

Sighing I turned down a back road, it eventually led to a bigger town in a different county and then to the freeway that would take me out of the state. It was dark now, lightning bugs were swarming the treeline, lighting up the forest like the sky I couldn’t see because it had been a cloudy day, all day.

As I approached the bridge that I hated, as it was narrow and hovered over a poor excuse for a river I slowed to see if headlights were coming opposite mine. Not seeing any, I started down the bridge and was halfway down it when something in the truck made a loud clicking sound that turned into a sudden bang. The truck sputtered and lost all power and I watched as smoke started billowing out from under the hood.

Shoving the truck into park I looked through the smoke before I leaned back into the seat and hit my hands against the steering wheel, shocking myself when I screamed. Hitting the flashers I grabbed the handle on the door and opened it. Slamming it behind me, I walked over to the hood of the truck knowing it was already beyond my ability to fix. I had no tools and no way of knowing what broke in the damn thing. It was too old. Dad always special ordered or looked around scrap yards for parts to replace the ones that failed. My truck was made up of many other trucks already recycled or rotting away.

When the smoke stopped billowing from the hood I turned away from the truck and leaned against the reinforced concrete railing on the bridge. Looking down, I couldn’t see the water flowing below it. It was a fifteen or twenty foot drop. This part of the river was barely four or so inches deep, but it narrowed and swelled to a more respectable force a couple miles down. It eventually emptied into a lake that was dammed up a long time ago.

As the world got used to the sound of my truck’s caution lights clicking, I started hearing frogs chirping and trilling along the riverbank. An owl hooted, which unnerved me and the weight of the revolver still tucked into my waistband was starting to dig into my skin. Reaching behind me I was about to pull it out when headlights came around the corner. It silenced the forest all over again with the roar of a souped up engine. In my headlights I made out a two toned brown truck with a lightbar between the headlights. Blinking against the brightness I watched them enter the bridge, revving the engine, speeding up until they got to my truck before coming to a stop a foot or so away from it. I heard beer cans being tossed around and when they killed the engine and when the lights dimmed, I got a better look at the truck.

“What’s up Benny?” I heard followed by the slam of the driver’s side door. I knew who it was when I saw the shiny two toned truck, Jonny Lundst. He owned a fixed up Ford of some kind, an older model, but detailed out completely with deep pockets, dope money mostly, but that was a rumor. Frowning at the name only he called me since middle school, I didn’t answer him. There was also movement in the passenger side, at first I thought it was his girlfriend of the month, no respectable girl put up with him longer than that. Instead I saw another guy finally open the door, I watched him finish off another beer before violently tossing it into the creek.

“Your rusted out pile of shit finally bite it?” Jonny slurred as he sauntered to the front of his truck. I watched the light blink as he walked between them. At first I thought he was going to be nice and offer to look at it, but instead he slammed his hand down on the hood of my truck and laughed.

“Just go around and leave me alone,” I said as I turned my back to them as two more of his usual crowd climbed down out of the back of the truck.

“Man, that’s no way to talk to us,” he said as the other three laughed. “You want a ride back home?”

“No,” I answered hoping I would bore them enough for them to leave.

“Why not?” He asked as his heavy hand fell onto my shoulder. I shrugged out of it, turning on him I reached up with both my hands and pushed him away from me. It was just forceful enough to send him falling against my truck. His greasy dark brown hair fell into his eyes as he scrambled to get back his footing.

“Fucking hey,” he groaned as he held up his hands. “What’s up your ass?”

“Get the fuck away from me,” I said as I leaned myself back against the concrete. I felt the revolver dig into my lower back. It didn’t have a safety mechanism, as you had to pull the hammer back before it fired, so I knew I shouldn’t have it tucked anywhere, but I didn’t care.

“Benton, dude we just stopped to see if you needed any help,” Roy Mason said as he stepped in front of Jonny’s truck, but didn’t come the full way around it. The other two that were with them were still standing too far into the darkness for me to see exactly who it was. Jonny was in my grade after being held back in the seventh grade. He had leeched himself onto me and got just good enough grades to pass, but didn’t have anything to do with me outside of classes until High school. I didn’t even know if he was going to graduate next year or if he had quit, he had to be eighteen by now. I turned eighteen next month, the thought of doing it alone punched me in the gut.

“Just leave,” I repeated, but when Jonny stepped forward with a crooked smile on his face I knew I was about to be the butt of a joke.

Not wanting to be, I pushed myself off the concrete railing and pulled the gun out of my jeans just as a second pair of headlights turned into the curve. Seeing the gun in my hands Jonny backtracked quickly. I didn’t point it at him as he knocked Roy out of the way.

“Lets get the fuck out of here,” I heard him say to his other friends. “Benny’s lost his fucking mind.”

“Come on Roy, pick your ass up off the ground,” one of their other friends said as I watched Jonny climb into the driver’s side and wait for Roy to scramble back to his feet. He was swearing under his breath as he made his way back to the passenger side. When they took off around my truck, slowly to keep from running into it until they cleared it. I heard the tires squeal and the yelling of my name, threatening me now that they knew I wasn’t serious with the gun. I watched him disappear around a curve and into the line of trees that converged on both sides of the road.

Not knowing who was in the other vehicle I tucked the gun back into the waistband of my jeans and waited to see if they were going to pass on by me. I wanted to be left alone, but I didn’t know if I was going to start walking down the road in the darkness or use the gun to let all this go away. I knew the reason for taking it, even though my mind still shied away from the thought. Something I never would have allowed myself to cross, a thought I never really had until tonight, despite knowing that I was something my family hated. I had planned to be careful, to let them love me, ignorant of that part of me until college. Then I would get on both my feet and come out to them to see exactly where I stood.

Knowing where I stood now, the bridge felt like a good enough place to stand. I was stranded here anyway, but when the second vehicle came to a stop I sighed and felt for the gun. If that got the person heading on to wherever they were going faster, I would pull it on them too. I wanted to hear the hooting of the owl and the chorus of frogs again. I wanted the time and the gentle flow of the water to clear my head, to know for sure what I wanted to do. The bridge probably hadn’t ever seen this much traffic at one time, the thought of the old and worn down thing collapsing under the strain crossed my mind when a door opened and closed.

Squinting, I saw this truck was larger, probably too large to squeeze around my truck on the narrow bridge. The guy that got out of this truck was older, about the age of my parents. He had a beard that had graying streaks through it. He was fixing a cowboy hat on his head and when he stepped into the light of his headlight I lost him to being backlit. He was a shadow until he cleared both his headlights and my eyes readjusted.

“Don’t pull that gun on me,” he said with a slight drawl to his voice that a lot of people had around here. “I saw you waving it around at those boys.”

“I’ll keep it where it is if you just go on around me,” I said nodding my head towards the other side of the bridge.

“Have you called a tow service?” He asked and I shook my head.

“No phone,” I answered when I realized he was waiting for an actual answer.

“Every kid your age has a phone,” he said, but I watched him fish around in his pocket and pull a phone out. When the screen lit up his face I looked up at it to see tanned skin. When he squinted against the harshness of his phone’s light, I saw wrinkles at the crease of his eyes. I watched him frown and glance back in my direction.

“No service?” I asked, feeling myself coming back down from the anger Jonny Lundst always pulled out of me whenever he started his shit. It was rare after I got more serious about baseball and caught up to him in height. I had made friends, friends that didn’t know a hell of a lot about me, but helped keep me sane. I wouldn’t have called any of them a best friend though, I didn’t ever breach that level, always too worried that I would slip up or give too much away. I knew I had to be a little obvious to people watching closely enough and not blinded by love. I never had a girlfriend, but I was attractive enough for them to want me. I never talked out conquests or lied about any either, I was never big on being a liar. I watched guys, I paid attention to how their bodies moved, their masculinity, the tension in their muscles as they stepped up to bat. If people were paying attention they would know, but I never gave them a reason to, I was the background, the scenery, never the center. I was just enough like them to get away with it, not allowing any steadfast loyalty to creep in that would have given me away.

“Not a damn lick of it,” he answered and I smirked and leaned against the concrete. It had been warmer, from the hot sun baking it throughout the day, but now it was starting to cool.

“You don’t have to bother with it,” I countered as I leaned onto my left side more to shift my weight off the revolver.

“Can I take a look at the truck?” He asked and I followed his eyes to my beat up, rusted over truck.

“I don’t think it will do any good,” I answered, shrugging my shoulders. He didn’t have the mechanic look about him like Dad. He was too sharply dressed, the cowboy hat was crisp and clean. I could smell cologne in the gentle breeze, a better smell than stale sweat and beer, but just as unwelcoming to me right now.

“Well I can’t leave you here,” he said as he stepped forward and leaned against the railing a few feet away from me.

“Why not?” I asked and I watched him watch me sliding my hand back towards the revolver. Having him watching me brought me short of grabbing for it and when I stopped moving he turned and looked forward.

“I wouldn’t be much if I did,” he answered, turning to face me. Having him leaning casually on his side facing unnerved me. “Do you trust me to take you back home?”

“No,” I answered, looking out at the darkness hoping to see something, anything that would distract me until I thought of a way to convince the man to leave me alone.

“Well my name is Trace Connley,” he said and when I looked back at him he had his hand outstretched and waiting for me.

“Joel,” I offered, not taking his hand.

“Well Joel, can I take you home?” He asked as he let his hand drop back to his side. “Or just somewhere I can get service so you can call someone.”

“No,” I answered, not wanting to give him more than that. I didn’t think I could if he asked anyway.

“Look Joel,” he said and I heard him shuffle on pebbles as he pushed himself up off the railing. “I don’t know what this is all about, but I know what you’re out here doing and I’m not leaving you to it.”

“My truck just broke down,” I said and when he smirked and shook his head I knew it was a poor attempt.

“And I’m glad it did,” he countered as he looked around as he patted the concrete railing with his hand. “If you got off this road anywhere else I probably wouldn’t be standing here, I would be hearing about you as I had my morning coffee. It would haunt me for a little while, as you’re close to my son’s age, but by the middle of the day I would have forgotten all about you. This is a miracle by any definition in my book.”

“So what now?” I asked, finally having enough of this conversation.

“You can get in my truck and I can take you back home,” he answered as he pointed to his truck still idling with his lights on. I wondered how much gas he had in the truck, but it was a quiet one unlike mine and Jonny’s.

“I can’t go back home,” I said, turning completely around to look over the edge of the bridge. The railing came up to my sternum.

“Alright then,” he said and I looked over to see him nodding his head. “Then come on, I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

“I don’t have…” I started, but looked back out at the erratic blinking of the fireflies feeling the wave of sadness I had kept away fall over me. It was like a punch to my gut that stung my eyes and when I blinked I felt the tears make their paths down my cheeks.

“Hey now,” Trace said and I felt his hand squeeze my shoulder. I didn’t pull away from his grip, it was short lived as he let go of me anyhow. “We’ll work out the destination on the way out of this valley, or we can sit here.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I asked, reaching up and wiping the tears off my cheeks, embarrassed now that I had let myself lose it in front of him.

“My wife is probably wondering where the hell I am,” he answered and I heard him laugh. “I suspect if I’m any later and I drag my ass in I might be sleeping on the couch.”

“Then just leave me here,” I said and I heard him sigh beside me.

“You’re about as stubborn as my little girl,” he said as he leaned back against the railing. “We’ll be here waiting on the birds. I told you how this was going to go.”

“It’s your ass on the couch,” I said, shrugging and it surprised me when he burst out laughing. It was loud enough to echo off the concrete and hills in the sunken valley we were in.

“Well if we’re sitting here all night, at least tell me about you a little,” he said as he settled in on the railing. I watched him grimace and reach up and rub the back of his neck. I didn’t know what kind of day he had or how long it was, only what I was keeping him from.

“No,” I said, shaking my head.

“Well I’ll tell you about myself then,” he said, not missing a beat. “I’m Trace Connley, I’ve been on the road for two days, been married for twenty years, my wife’s name is Celia, we have a daughter Lacey, and a son Colt. I’m owner of the Connley ranch, we raise up choice Black Angus cattle.”

I let him talk watching him smile when he named his wife, then his kids. He reminded me a lot of Dad when he would tell a stranger his life story while he worked on their car. Just like Trace he would smile and swell up a little bit when he talked about us. The similarity hurt and when he stopped talking I swallowed and only nodded before looking away. It had to be getting late, we hadn’t been interrupted by another vehicle, although this little stretch of road wasn’t the most popular road to travel, there were better alternative routes that didn’t involve this narrow bridge. There were parties held under this bridge on hot nights, that could have been why Jonny was passing by, scoping out the place for any sign of a road block on either side of the long road before calling in everyone else. If it was daylight, I could read the graffiti, mostly names of couples that were likely no longer together. A dick or two and a lot of swear words that teenagers younger than me thought funny to draw and write.

“My mom kicked me out,” I said looking over at him, finally breaking the last wall I had left. I was starting to feel like I was being rude keeping him here and not giving him anything. “My Dad and older brother just let her do it, none of them stood up for me, they watched me leave, like I was heading out to a friend’s house. I had to lie to my little brother about where I was going.”

“Your mom can’t just kick you out of the house,” he said and I looked away clenching my jaw muscles in a poor attempt to stop more tears.

“Me and my little brother have the same birthday,” I continued after swallowing and hoping my voice didn’t crack. “Not exactly, but a few days apart so we always shared birthdays, it’s coming up.”

“You don’t have to answer,” he started as he pushed himself off the railing only to turn and look out over the bridge, his voice was strained and he took a breath before he continued speaking. “Why did your mom feel like she needed to kick you out of the house?”

“No, I’m not going to, I won’t answer that,” I said, shaking my head as I left the railing and walked over to my truck. I opened the door hearing him following behind me as I switched off the flashers and grabbed my keys out of the ignition and let them fall into the seat. When Trace was satisfied I wasn’t going to do anything he held the door open for me and when I was clear of it, he shut it gently behind me.

“Do you think she would listen to reason if I spoke to her on your behalf?” He asked, choosing to lean against my truck instead of the railing.

“No,” I answered, “and why would you bother, you don’t know me.”

“I do know you,” he countered, smiling. “You’re Joel, we met tonight on this bridge, it's not the best scenery right now, but at least the darkness hides all the beer cans and trash.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I said as I reached over and grabbed the hood of my truck. My feet were tired of standing for however long we had been here, I wished I had changed out of my cleats before leaving.

“Joel,” he said as I lifted my left foot off the ground and started rolling my ankles. “Can we compromise a little bit, we can drive until I get some signal on this phone so I can at least call my wife.”

“Do you think it’s that simple for me to just leave here?” I asked as I planted my foot back on the ground. “You know why I’m here, what I was thinking about doing, you can call anybody you want and I have no one. They all sat down and ate supper like nothing had happened while I was out here thinking what I was thinking. You’re asking me to leave, but I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“Alright then,” Trace said as he pushed himself off the truck and for a brief moment I thought he was giving up. Instead he offered me his hand. “I’ll make it a little more simple, you do have somewhere to go. Come on back home with me, but I’ll be needing that gun, do we have a deal?”

“How do I know that anything you’ve said has been the truth?” I asked as he kept his hand outstretched.

“I don’t have a background check handy, so blind faith,” he answered smiling. “I’ve not gotten so much as a speeding ticket past the age of twenty. Just like I’m believing you’re a nice young man, someone I can trust to bring inside my home.”

“Fair enough,” I said and I reached behind my back with my right hand and freed the revolver from my waistband. Looking up at him I slowly brought it back around and when I handed it butt first into his hand he offered me a smile as he deftly unloaded it. I watched him slide the six bullets into his front pocket.

“Alright then, let's get on the road,” he said as he surprised me with a gentle nudge on my shoulder. “We got a bit of a drive.”

Glancing at my truck and then over to the railing of the bridge, I sighed as I started walking not knowing what was about to happen. Maybe the scenery would be better than the darkness that hid the beer cans and the trash, but everything else would be left as raw and torn up as I left it when I left home. Trace may have thought he finally broke me, getting me off this narrow bridge. I had to wonder if he knew my secret, he would have made the effort. If my secret can take away a mother’s love, a stranger’s mercy should break more easily. I learned to lie and it got me here, so as my broken down truck got swept up in darkness, I wondered if the truth would have been better from the start.