Faithful Shadow (4 page)

“Give it up, she’s Richard’s chick and that boy is hella cool.” Stew saw Gretchen and the fireman heading down the hall toward the rooms. “Okay, let’s go.”

Stew and Marco rushed across the wide open lobby to the front desk. Rowena looked up as Marco bumped into the counter, knocking a jar of pins onto her book. She picked them up and cocked an eyebrow.

“Hey, what are you and Janice doing tonight?” Stew asked.

“Janice and I are heading out to join you guys at the hot-pots. That’s still on, isn’t it?” Rowena lowered her head, letting her thick glasses slide down her nose a bit. She called this her “questioning glance.”

“Janice is coming?” Marco clasped his hands together. “You’re damn straight we’re still on.”

“Easy boy.” Rowena raised an eyebrow. “You’re not going to bug the hell out of us, are you?”

“No, promise.” Marco raised his hand in a Boy Scout promise of three fingers.

“Okay, we’ll see you there then.” Rowena smiled, returning to her book as they walked off.

“You’re going tonight too?” Doug asked, walking up from behind her as he always did.

Rowena had often thought that for such a fat man he sure was silent on his feet. “Yeah, Janice and I are heading out after work.” Rowena didn’t want to go on, but she knew Doug wasn’t going to leave her alone. “So, you’re going to the hot-pots?”

“Well, I’m not getting in or nothing. I’ll just hang out and drink some beers.” Doug could tell she was losing interest, sad to see her turning back to her book. He knew he couldn’t compete with the guys here when it came to physical appearance and he wasn’t rich. But he did have one thing that was in short supply. “If you want, I could give you a ride out there. I’d be happy to do it.” Doug hated his piece of shit car beyond belief, but he loved it now for perhaps the first time since it had been given to him by his father.

“I really appreciate the offer, but I have a truck. Janice and I are riding out together.” Rowena never looked up from her book.

“Oh. That’s cool.” Doug took a subconscious step back, sensing the tension. He lingered a moment longer, watching her read her book without looking up to acknowledge his presence. He wanted so badly to reach out and move a strand of hair from her vision, just a small touch. “Well, I’ll see you there then.”

“Cool.”

Doug nodded and crossed the lobby to the restaurant’s entrance, standing just inside the door. Work had become more of a joke really, just standing there in the restaurant’s entrance like some kind of guard, only he was guarding an empty restaurant. They’d only had three guests in the restaurant for breakfast and that was one more than they had yesterday. Doug wondered how many guests were left. Yesterday he’d overheard Rowena speaking with Gretchen, telling her they had six more cancellations and three early checkouts. As far as he could tell, the entire first floor was vacant, probably the second floor as well. Didn’t matter, not as long as they signed his paycheck. Doug sighed, already feeling the extreme boredom starting to settle in. He pulled up a chair and took a seat, knowing this would piss off his manager, but his legs were sore. Standing in one spot all day made his feet ache; besides, this low vantage point offered a much better view of Rowena. Sure, at times he felt like a stalker. Watching her from across the way for hours on end, looking through the leaves of the fern between them. But he loved her. He’d liked many women before, but this was different. She had replaced the faces of all the women from his past. All those nights behind the bathroom door masturbating to magazines or fantasies, were now all replaced with his lovely Rowena.

“Okay, thank you Rita.” Joe thought for a moment. “Did Andy post that warning about the rogue bear near the Inn?”

“I believe so. Did you want me to do a drive around?”

“No, the notice is fine. Thank you, Rita.”

Joe turned off the radio, letting the receiver fall to the floor. He didn’t want to deal with any more calls or see any more dead animals. Too much blood on his hands lately; the thought put a sour taste in his mouth that overpowered the tuna. He set his sandwich down and closed his eyes, feeling the headache beginning to creep toward the front of his head. A child’s laughter drifted in through the open window, startling him from the light slumber he’d slipped into. He turned his head toward the boardwalk and watched a family of four; a mother, father, a boy about six, and a girl about three. The perfect, picturesque family. Joe smiled, watching them walk the last of the boardwalk, pausing briefly to look down at the steaming pools of water with wonder. But this normal display of family bliss began to turn sour, like an allergic reaction tightening his throat. It became hard to breathe. His heart rate rose as the truck’s interior went from a comfortable warmth to a sweltering inferno; all mental of course.

Joe started the truck and put it in reverse, backing up without looking into the rearview, peeling out as soon as he had room. He was succumbing to another panic attack, moving recklessly down the road at speeds well beyond the posted limit. A cool sweat had broken out across his brow. It felt as if he couldn’t pull in a deep enough breath no matter how deep he sucked in. He pulled onto the shoulder and slammed on his brakes, pressing his forehead to the wheel. Slow breaths in and out; over and over again until his racing heart faded into the background. A fresh batch of tears poured from his eyes, cascading down his cheeks like an uncontrollable river. The small boy’s face from a few moments ago had been replaced with his son’s. A younger version of his boy from when he’d been little, an innocent face that was always smiling. Where that child had gone, that innocent nature, was beyond him.

Joe took a sip from his flask, closing his eyes as he let the booze work its magic. He held the cold glass to his forehead. How long until it would numb the pain? However long, it was too long. Joe took another long swig, lowering his head back to the wheel. The interior of his truck faded, dissolving into the memory of his last contact with Ryan. He’d driven out to see Joe, reaching his small cabin a few minutes before midnight. He’d been driving a very long time, almost a straight shot from his small, shitty apartment in Southern California. Joe hadn’t wanted him to come alone, but he said he needed to get away. Had to get away. A heavy desperation had clung to his tone.

“Didn’t you stop?” Joe asked as his son stepped onto the porch. This had been four months ago.

“No, I didn’t want to stay on the road any longer than I had to.” Ryan scratched his arms repeatedly, looking agitated. “Can I come in?” He looked back over his shoulder.

“Please.” Joe gave his son a strong hug, squeezing him tight. He felt ill from the overpowering aroma of cigarettes and beer. “You look like you’ve seen some better days.” Joe took hold of his twenty-four year old son’s hands and held him out at arm’s length. His clothes were ratty and stained.

“Don’t start with me, Dad.” Ryan grumbled as he pushed past him, entering the cabin. He took a seat at the table, leaning back with a heavy sigh. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his coat and tossed them down. “I didn’t come here to be insulted.” Ryan shook his head, scratching his arms harshly. He twitched his head to the right, breathing heavy. “Why do you always make me feel unwanted? I swear to God!”

“Why did you come here?” Joe shut the door and took a small step into the room, not wanting to crowd him.

“So I’m not welcome? This is how you greet me?” Ryan crossed his arms in front of his chest in a defensive stance. He looked over his shoulder at the door, dragging his uneven fingernails over his arm compulsively. Long red lines ran up his arm, blending with the red needle marks in the crook of his elbow. A long strand of hair fell over his eyes, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I didn’t say that.” Joe kept his voice calm.

“You’ll never change. Job first and family second. That’s why Mom left your sorry ass!” Ryan spit in his face.

Joe slapped his son hard across the face, immediately regretting it. His mouth dropped in shock, complete disbelief that he’d raised a hand to his son.

“Fuck this. I’m out of here.” Ryan grabbed his cigarettes and pushed past his father. “I came here for help and you turn me away. I knew this was a mistake.”

“Please don’t leave.” Joe ran after him down the steps, gripping his arm.

“Get off of me.” Ryan yanked his arm free and got into his car, starting the engine. “I knew this was going to be a hassle.”

“Don’t leave. I’m sorry.” Joe ran alongside his son’s car as he began to back away. “I didn’t mean to get angry. Just come inside and I’ll help you. Whatever it is you’ve gotten yourself into, we can fix it.” Joe stood and watched his son turn down the driveway. “Please don’t go,” Joe yelled, but Ryan took off.

Three weeks went by without word from Ryan. He’d finally built up the courage to call, hoping he hadn’t completely driven his son away. So he called his son’s apartment and heard from his scumbag of a roommate that he’d been killed in a car accident. He’d made the trip home, but a few days later he’d been shooting up with some lowlifes and decided to take a drive along the coast. Police reports said he’d plowed into the guardrail at more than eighty miles an hour and was killed on impact. At least he hadn’t suffered. That was something Joe had to hang onto.

Joe lifted his head from the steering wheel, indents from the wheel imbedded across his forehead. The sun had traveled across the sky, moving behind the hills to the west. He must have been a sight to see; a National Park ranger with a flask in his hand weeping with his head down while God knows how many tourists, families in their campers, drove by seeing him sitting there in such a state. But it didn’t really matter to Joe anymore. His own life meant nothing. All he had left was this park. And like everything else in his life, the park was burning down to cinders.

“You’re telling me. Now I have to get it fixed.”

“I think you should just roll it into the canyon.” Sonia laughed.

“That would be cool and all, except the car belongs to my father. If it comes back with even a ding, he’s going to kill me.”

Stew looked up into the rearview and looked Doug right in the eyes. He shook his head, wondering how they’d ended up befriending such a loser. But being around a total marshmallow like Doug made him look all the sweeter. Stew pulled up to the site and killed the engine, hopping out of the jeep with a loud yell of enjoyment. He came around the back of the jeep and unloaded the sleeping bags.

“This is most of your shit you know,” Stew told them, tossing the gear on the ground. “Janice is here.”

Doug got out of the car and watched Rowena pull up, parking behind them. He didn’t want to stare too long, but it was hard to look away. She stepped out of the truck wearing jean shorts and a small shirt that showed off her tight stomach. Doug hurried around to the back of the jeep and unloaded his contribution to the little campout; three twelve packs of beer thought to be Rowena’s favorite. He figured if his personality wasn’t charming enough for her to be swayed, he’d try again after she’d had a good share of booze. A cheap tactic, but he’d take whatever he could get. He was competing against guys with washboard stomachs, like Stew.

“The party has arrived,” Janice yelled as she jumped out of the truck, holding a bottle of vodka up over her head.

“Hell yeah it has,” Marco muttered, looking her up and down. “Hey girl, let’s pop the cap and have a drink before we hit the pots.”

Marco walked to the back of Rowena’s truck and grabbed their gear, two sleeping bags and an overnight bag. Tents weren’t necessary when the weather was so nice, not to mention the awesome star gazing. Marco set the gear down with strategy, placing Janice’s sleeping bag next to his and Rowena’s next to Doug’s. He knew the fat bastard didn’t have a chance in hell of scoring, but he figured he could throw the chubby bitch a bone. Marco opened his own bag and took out three joints, lighting one for himself, while passing off the other two to Stew.

“Love it. Marco brought the party favors.” Stew slipped one into his mouth and the other into his pocket. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Armed with towels, the group of six made its way through the woods, following the trail that had been made by the numerous employees that had walked it before them. They left their sleeping bags and cars behind, knowing full well no one would mess with them. There was a certain level of respect in the park, a creed campers followed when they came across another person’s site. Not that they really had anything worth stealing.