Wintertide: A Novel (12 page)

"You have no idea what you’re
talking about," he said to me in a steady voice. "Do you think I like
having to watch every penny? I don't begrudge you, your college. I know you
work hard, and you deserve an education. But I won't tolerate your judging me. You’re
way out of line.”

He walked out of the room and went
upstairs, his feet landing heavily on the carpeted steps. I heard the bedroom
door slam shut. I looked over at my mother.

"He does work hard," she
said softly.

"So that gives him the right
to be an asshole?"

"Don't you call your father
names."

I stood there like a statue staring
at her. Why did they both have to destroy every nice moment? And why was I so
upset? I used to simply shut down and ignore them. I never got in the middle of
their disputes. I supposed I was just out of practice. I looked down at the
torn wrapping paper littering the carpet.

"I'm sorry he got mad at you. That
was a nice gift you got him.” I handed her my gift certificate. "You can
return this if we can't afford it. I really don't mind."

"You keep your present, Daniel.”
She reached up and hugged me. "Your father was right. If I had extra money,
I should have used it to pay the bills.” She pulled away. "I'm going to go
talk to him. Are you all right?"

"I’m fine. I guess I shouldn’t
have said anything to him."

"I'll tell your father you’re
sorry.” She handed me back my gift certificate, picked the wrapping paper up
off the floor, threw it away in the kitchen, and then headed up to the bedroom.

I wondered earlier why my mother
still cared what my father thought. Now I wondered why I cared. I hastily
decided to revert back to silence and to attempt indifference.

I sat on the couch for a long time
that night, looking at the tree, breathing in its woodsy smell, listening to
the clock ticking softly. The box with the tool belt sat on Dad's chair. It
would likely be going right back to the store.

As I sat there in the dimly lit,
silent house, wondering how early I could conceivably leave after Christmas,
promising myself that I would not return home again, I didn't realize at the
time that the problems that weighed on me that night would seem so insignificant
the next day. Walking quietly upstairs, changing out of my clothes and lying my
head down heavily onto my new pillow, I hadn't a clue that the usual tension I
so despised which was inherent to my life in South Seaport would soon multiply.
I located one of the sleeping pills I had secretly pilfered, and I swallowed it
dry. Lying on my back, remembering how as a child on this night I would peer up
into the dark sky for a glimpse of the sleigh and the chubby man in red and
white, I eventually fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

I slept late on Christmas morning. The
familiar dense grey cloud cover had slowly rolled back in during the night. My
small bedroom was cold and dark. It was nearly eleven by the time I drowsily
crawled out of bed, pulled my heavy college sweatshirt over my head and went
downstairs to the kitchen. My mother was sitting in the artificial bright
yellow light, drinking coffee and reading the paper. She didn't even glance up
at me as I passed her to fill my mug from the steaming pot.

"Good morning," I said. I
sat down across from her, my chilled hands cupping the warm coffee mug.

When she looked up at me, her face
was pale, her blue eyes filled with worry.

"Is something wrong?" I
asked.

"Oh, Daniel. I've just read
the most horrible news in the paper. Something terrible has happened."

I was in a car accident during my
freshman year of college. A friend of mine kept his car in the city, and one
night I foolishly sat in the passenger seat while he drove us home from a party
when he was completely hammered. I knew we were going to crash long before we
actually did. That moment of waiting, while he swerved to avoid an oncoming car
and careened the tiny hatchback toward a large oak tree, seemed to drag out
forever. My arm was shielding my face as we headed straight for the tree. I was
cringing, holding my breath, awaiting that inevitable moment of impact which
dragged out forever. I wore my seat belt and came out with only a few
scratches, but my intoxicated friend endured a concussion, a totaled car, and a
bitter battle with his insurance company.

I felt that same drawn out dread
now, awaiting the painful moment of impact, as my mother paused between her
last sentence and her next. I knew what was coming, and I hoped it wasn't written
all over my face.

"You know that grey house on
the hill I mentioned to you the other day?” she continued. “The one that was
empty because the owners had gone into bankruptcy?"

"Yes," I said, sitting
perfectly still as I listened for her next words.

"Well, it turns out a couple
from Connecticut rented it out for the holidays."

"Really," I managed to
say.

"Yes, and this is just
terrible, but the husband came up a day early to get the key from the realtor
and open the house. That night someone broke in and attacked him. It says here
his wife arrived early yesterday and found him beaten in the living room. She
called an ambulance and he was placed into the intensive care unit last night. It
says here he's in critical condition. Oh how horrible and right here in town. Who
would have thought?"

He was alive. "Does it say if
he’s going to be all right?” I asked.

"It just says here that he's
in critical condition."

"What else does it say?"

"They're waiting for him to
regain consciousness so the police can question him. Nothing like this has ever
happened here. I wonder if our police are trained to handle this sort of thing?
It certainly won't be very good for tourism this summer if it gets out. I
wonder who could have done this? Surely, no one local.”

He hadn’t died. He had lain on the
floor for nearly twenty-four hours, alive. Minutes ago I had been shivering,
now a light sweat trickled down my back. My mother's voice dwindled away,
overtaken by the blaring in my head.

"Daniel?"

I looked up at her trying to maintain
a mask of calm.

"Are you all right? You look
pale.”

"I'm fine."

She stood and came over to me,
placing a hand on my forehead. "You feel warm. I think you might have a
temperature. Let me get the thermometer."

"No, Mom, please. I just need
to take a shower.” I stood abruptly, brushed past her and went up the stairs. Once
in my room, I closed the door and sat down on my bed. What was I thinking all
day yesterday? How could I have let that man lie there helplessly while I knew
about it and did nothing? But I didn't know. I thought he was dead. Jesus, that
made it even worse.

I stripped off my sweatshirt and my
pajamas and stepped into a cold shower. I could feel the flush in my cheeks
diminish as the cold water hit me. I had to stop this. I was glad that he was
alive, right? This was great news. Yes, I should have gotten help for him, but
I couldn't change things now. He was in the hospital being taken care of.

Everything is relative. In nature,
animals kill each other all the time in battles for territory, food, and
probably for nothing much at all. It’s survival of the fittest. In the movies,
the bad guys are always tracked down and caught by the police. But in real life,
the percentage of criminals who are actually brought to justice is much lower
than people might think. Sometimes, when I'm in an overly philosophical mood, I
think that there is such a thing as destiny. But usually I just believe we are
all floating around aimlessly and what we do and how we react is based on
nothing more than our individual choices. For example, why had Eddie’s reaction
been to beat that man to within an inch of his life? If his father hadn't shown
him that that was how you solved your problems, would he still have chosen that
course of action? And how about me? Inaction was what my parents had shown me. Whatever
problems arose in their lives, they simply ignored them. Close your eyes and
pretend it isn't there. That's what they taught me, and I learned my lesson
well. Maybe that's why I acted so irrationally when I found myself finally
facing a problem that didn't seem to want to go away.

Seth was sitting in my living room
when I finally came downstairs. Mom was sitting across from him. He looked uncomfortable.
He stood the moment he saw me, jingling his keys in his hand. "Dan, sorry
I'm late. We should go."

I hesitated for moment before deciding
to play along. We’d had no plans.

Mom stood and followed us to the
door. "It's thirty degrees out there,” she told me. “ You can't go outside
with wet hair. What if you have a cold? You'll catch your death going out like
that."

"I'll be fine.” Tuning out her
continued pleas, I followed Seth to the car. Neither one of us said a word
until we were on the road well away from my house. Seth appeared calm enough. My
wet hair was dripping down into my collar and a chill started to set in.

He pulled the car off the road into
the deserted parking lot of the local market. "There's no place to
go," he said annoyed. "It’s Christmas. Everything is closed
today."

I reached over and pushed the heat
up to its highest setting.

"I tried calling you
yesterday," he said.

"I know," I said. I
wondered if Seth was going to try to make idle chit-chat before getting to the
point. I knew I would lose it if he did. So, I just dove right in. "That
guy was still alive. We could have helped him."

He sighed and shook his head. "We
can’t go there. We didn't know.” He ran a hand through his curly hair and
leaned back against the head rest. "Eddie's a mess."

I turned to him, shocked. "You've
seen Eddie?"

"Yeah. He woke me up ringing
the bell at nine o'clock this morning.”

"What did he want?"

A truck rumbled by. Seth watched it
pass and waited until it was gone before speaking again. "He just wanted
me to know that he feels awful about the whole thing. He’s really torn up about
it, says he just kind of lost control. And I think he’s scared. He’s scared
that he could actually do something like that.”

"He feels awful, huh? Well that
makes it all okay then.”

“Come on, Dan.”

"Does he realize that if the
guy in the hospital wakes up, he might be able to identify him?”

Seth shook his head. "I don’t
think he’s waking up anytime soon. His condition sounds pretty bad.” Seth
stared out the window at the closed market. "Eddie wants us to meet him
tonight," he said without looking at me.

"What?" I shook my head.
“No way. I’m done with him.”

Seth turned to me with a fierce
expression. "So you're going to make me go alone?"

I was taken aback by his reaction. "Don't
you go either."

"We can't completely ignore the
guy. Look, if we don't show up, I think he might do something."

"What do you mean he might do
something?"

Seth pressed his lips together seeming
reluctant to elaborate.

"What do you mean?" I pressed.

He put both hands on the wheel and
took a deep breath. When he turned to look at me, his dark eyes were serious. "I'm
scared for him, Dan. He's...unstable."

I barked out an incredulous laugh.
“No kidding, Mr. Obvious.”

Seth didn’t laugh. He just stared
at me. I sighed and shook my head at him. “Look, we have two choices here. We can
turn ourselves in or we can walk away and hope no one discovers the truth. If
we decide on the second choice, which is obviously the wrong choice, the choice
that good people would not make, then I think we should just stay away from
each other.”

“We’re not bad people,” Seth
stated.

“We both know which choice we’re
making. So, yes we are.”

“You wouldn’t ruin your life, Dan.
You, more than anyone else, could walk away and pretend nothing happened.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Seth muttered. “At least
Eddie will be relieved to hear that you’re not going to go to the police.”

My eyed widened at that. "He
thought I would go to the police?"

"He thought there was a good
chance you might. But he kept saying to make sure you came with me tonight. I
got the feeling it was because he wanted to take your temperature on things."

I stared down at the floor mat and
saw vacation brochures sitting there. They were covered with pictures of white
beaches and blue sparkling water. I wondered what they were doing there while
at the same time I wished I could just jump into one and escape. I did not want
to see Eddie again.

"You know it won’t take long
before the police eventually question him," Seth said.

I looked up at him. “What? Why?”

  "He’s the go-to guy for
criminal activity around here. Last summer some wallets were stolen at the
beach. Eddie wasn't anywhere near there, but he was the first person they talked
to. There was a hit and run accident out on 6A a few months ago. A girl on a bicycle
got her leg broken. Again they questioned Eddie about it. He has a reputation
here. I don't think it will be long before they want to talk to him about this.
And I'm pretty sure he wants to feel you out about it tonight. Maybe talk about
what he plans to say. Make sure we back him up."

I shook my head in disbelief. “What
happened to us sticking together and Eddie being on his own?”

“That’s still our plan. But
ignoring him isn’t the right move here. We should hear him out and at least
reassure him.”

I hadn’t realized Eddie was such a
popular person with the police. I rubbed my hands over my face. "So what's
with all these brochures?” I asked, needing a subject break. “Are you planning
to skip town?"

He looked down at them. Another car
passed by. "No my mom is. She wants to get away for awhile. She’s been
kind of depressed, you know, with the divorce and everything. Look, I think we
should both go see Eddie tonight and hear him out. Once we reassure him, he’ll
stop pestering us. If we don’t, who knows what he’ll do.”