Shade (eBook)

Chapter 1

Norah grabbed her coffee and stepped out of the rusted truck camper onto the dewy, pine-needled earth. She breathed the cool mountain air into her lungs while the night sky waited for the sun to rise from behind the snow-capped peaks. The campground was unusually silent for a busy long weekend. Her ears registered a faint humming in the distance, and the sound was met with an uneasy twinge inside her stomach. A quad or chainsaw? When her eyes had adjusted to the dim light, she wrapped herself in her oversized wool Siwash, walked to the small creek a few steps away, and dipped her toes in the glacier water. Her toes numbed while she took a sip of her coffee, steam dancing around her face. The hot and cold sensations relieved the mental exhaustion of yesterday. She walked to the picnic table, opened her tattered journal, and scribbled a poem by the light of the moon.

Clawing out her insides, they now lay at his throne

This offering, the sacrifice, she kneels on shattered bone

Lifting off his blood-soaked crown, both eyes an empty hole

The guts are spilling over as he fills his hollow soul

What shit, she thought, her usual consensus after creative musings. This poem belongs in a hole. She flipped a page back. The pang of yesterday crept into her stomach as angry words exploded off the page.

Every trip, every goddamn trip. Why? Why do I stay? Is it possible to be happy with someone miserable? Is it me who’s miserable? All this shit about changing yourself, well, I’ve tried and tried and tried, and where am I now? Angry. And my poor son probably ingesting all this pain of the said and unsaid, the heavy air and words. My guilt overcomes me, like this pit in my stomach, a combination of too many things—anxiety, shame, pain, so much hurt. I know I can’t fake it till I make it out of this. I feel lost and stuck, responsible for my life but out of control. His righteous, condescending voice enters my eardrums at an unbearable frequency. Over the years, they’ve become so sensitive that even the slightest pang triggers an over-the-top reaction. His inability to recognize or hear himself is so messed up. But once again, I’m not supposed to focus on him but me. How can I not focus on something so disturbing? More disturbing is that I’ve allowed being taunted, triggered, and gas-lighted for years. God help me I love him, ignore him, leave him, accept him, be like Mother fucking Theresa in putting up with his shit. If there was a painting that encapsulated this relationship, it would be The Scream.

She breathed out an audible sigh, crinkled her toes into the pine-needled dirt, and walked to the woodpile beside the camper. She lifted a small log but lost her grip, it fell onto her big toe and landed on a string of profanities. She slumped onto the cold ground and cupped her throbbing toe. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She lay back onto the rough earth floor and allowed the last few tears to fall.

Strange, she thought, not a single bird singing. Not once had she been camping without awaking to a choir of chirping. She raised her hand to the air. It was still, not a single leaf blowing on the massive oak trees. No squirrels jumping from tree to tree.

“What are you doing?” said a voice.

Startled, she shuffled to her feet. Seamus and Theo were staring at her. She knew her eyes were puffy and red, her messy bun tangled with twigs and pine needles.

“Here…” Seamus reached out and brushed the debris from her hair. She subtly pushed him away.

They had looked forward to this trip for months. Norah had tried for years to secure a coveted spot at Shady Oaks, the impossible-to-book, swanky, celebrity-visited campsite in the Rocky Mountains. Two hours into the four-hour drive, Seamus, distracted by his phone, had swerved into the other lane and almost caused an accident before Norah yelled to get his attention. He flipped out and blamed her for his erratic driving. An old story at this point—him blaming her for everything under God’s green earth.

“Mom, why were you lying on the ground?” Theo smiled, his cute freckles scrunched into his round cheeks.

“I was meditating,” Norah replied with a half smile, self-conscious about her puffy eyes. “Where were you guys?”

“We got up early. Went fishing in the creek. Beautiful morning.” Seamus looked at her, his beard scruffed over his dimply smile. It was that exact smile that had initially drawn her in. He put his arm around her.

“Stop,” she said under her breath and slinked away.

“Holding on to it, hey?” he said.

Norah changed the subject. “Catch anything?”

“Nope,” Theo said. “Dad thought I had a bite, but I didn’t.”

“I think it was a nibble, Theo.” Seamus smiled.

“No, Dad, it was a weed.” Theo’s voice cracked.

Norah’s heart sank. Where did the time go? Her son was already eleven years old. His frame now filling in stocky like his dad’s. She refused to let anger sour another trip and scolded herself to snap out of it. She wrapped her arms around Theo and gave him a big hug.

“Love you, Mom.” He hugged her and headed inside the camper.

“Norah,” Seamus said, “can you just let it go?”

“Is that your idea of an apology?” she snapped.

“I’m sorry, okay? I know it wasn’t your fault.” He piled some wood inside the firepit, on top of the skeleton of an ashy log still smoldering from the previous night. He put his arms around her again.

She didn’t push him away or return the embrace, just let her head rest on his shoulder. Twelve years into the relationship. She loved him. She hated him. The cycle wore her down. What she hated most was the uncontrollable ugliness it brought out in her.

“Did you notice anything weird? It’s super quiet.” She shuffled out of his arms and sat by the fire.

“Wasn’t really paying attention.” He shrugged and grabbed more firewood. “Now that you say it, when we were out, I didn’t see a dirt bike or a hiker.” He paused. “We should take a walk and see if we can find someone. We need to check in anyway.”

“Mom,” Theo shouted from the small window of the old camper, “can I have Ichiban?”

“No, it’s too early.”

“Why, Mom? We’re camping, I’m allowed to have Ichiban. Please?”

“No, don’t ask again,” she said, prickling with a tinge of irritation. “Grab a granola bar, we’re going to the office to check in.”

A moment later Theo jumped out of the camper. “Look who I found!” he said, a half-eaten granola bar in one hand and his stuffed llama in the other.

“No way, where was he?” Norah asked.

He grinned. “Tucked inside a couch cushion.”

Norah looked at Seamus. “How long has it been since he went missing?”

“Has to be at least five years. Theo, you cried about Llama for months. I was sure he got left somewhere.”

Theo hugged the stuffie to his chest. Norah smiled at the sweet reunion. She slipped on her shoes, and they all walked down the path to the office. With every step, the hairs on Norah’s neck stood at attention. Everything from tents to giant motorhomes filled the sites, but not one person or animal could be seen. Fires burned unattended. Not one kid at the park.

“Dad, where is everyone?” Theo asked.

“Don’t know. It’s still really early, probably sleeping.”

Norah squeezed Seamus’s hand as they reached the office, a stunning modern log building. Stained glass windows with etchings of bears, deer, and other wildlife adorned the massive windows, and oversized hanging baskets of flowers surrounded the front beam. Far from the typical campsites they’d visited. But what had caught Norah’s attention was that the automatic door stood wide open.

“Hello?” Seamus yelled and glanced at Norah.

“What the hell?” she murmured under her breath.

“Hello?” he yelled again.

“Hello!” Theo screamed at the top of his lungs.

“Jesus, Theo,” Norah gasped.

“The till, it’s wide open, full of cash,” Seamus said. “And whoever was here left their phone.”

“Is it on?” Norah asked.

“No, it’s dead.”

“Does the landline work?”

Seamus lifted the receiver to his ear. “Nope.” He walked to the camping supplies, grabbed two crowbars, and passed one to Norah.

“Nice, leave the child unarmed,” Theo said, his face red.

Seamus laughed.

“Dad, it’s not funny!”

“Here,” Seamus said as he passed a third crowbar to his son....