Wintertide: A Novel (5 page)

He stumbled, trying to regain his
footing, but he couldn’t, and he landed on top of me, squeezing the breath from
my lungs. I lay there on my side gasping for air as Eddie scrambled to his feet
and looked down at me angrily, his hand tightening into a fist.

Seth was gaping at us. "What
the hell are you two doing?"

Eddie uncurled his fingers, and his
incensed expression transformed into a wide mocking grin. He pointed down at me.
"This idiot thought I was going to jump." He began to laugh loudly. Soon
Seth was laughing also. I sat up and looked hard at Eddie. I knew the truth.

He averted his eyes and continued
to poke fun at me. "Well, thanks, Danny boy. You saved my life," he
snickered while Seth joined in drunkenly.

I shook my head at them and climbed
back up onto the cliff. I could hear Seth yelling after me, "Where are you
going? You need to lighten up."

The next day they both acted as
though nothing had happened and so did I.

Good friends are rare. I do not
believe that a close friendship, the likes of which once existed between Seth
Cooper and me, will ever happen to me again. From the first grade until the
middle of my senior year in high school, we were inseparable. I was never at a
loss for words around him. I had no siblings, and he was as close to a brother
as I would ever get. We used to go into my basement and set off dime store
firecrackers that would send my mother raving, chasing us around the house in a
state. We walked to the candy store every afternoon. I'd always buy those long
red strings of licorice, and he'd purchase a bag of giant blue jawbreakers. Then
he'd mumble all the way home with the candy lodged inside his cheek, his tongue
and lips turning blue.

We didn't need anyone else. We had
a language all our own. Other people couldn't help but feel left out when they
were around us. Seth might say something like "My mother gave me pineapple
with my lunch" and I'd crack up laughing, holding my sides. Whoever was
sitting with us would be perplexed, having absolutely no clue as to what was so
funny. The day before Seth had pranced around his kitchen with two pineapples
held against his chest, speaking in a high voice, impersonating his older,
well-endowed sister. Because we spent so much time together, nearly every event
was turned into something humorous to be referenced later and laughed over
again and again. I was a fixture at his house as he was in mine.

I often wished that I were a member
of his family. They traveled around the country during the summer, camping in
the Grand Canyon, driving to Yellowstone National Park. I'd sit in their
tasteful living room pouring over colorful photographs of Old Faithful and Mt.
Rushmore. My family never went anywhere. Well, we did go to Plimoth Plantation
once. But that was only a half hour away so I didn't think it really counted, and
after about twenty minutes of examining the blacksmith's shop and old fashioned
butter churners, my dad said that he would wait for us in the car.

Seth and I talked about going to
Europe together after we graduated from college. Of course we would go to the
same school, somewhere in a big city where we would be roommates. Neither one
of us knew what we wanted to be exactly, only that we were going to be very
rich.

Seth was always the instigator of
our experimentations and transgressions. It was his bottle of vodka that we
took out to the woods that first time and drank until we puked up our lunches
onto the grass. It was his father's Playboys that he brought over to my house
and snuck upstairs to my bedroom, ripping out one particularly lewd photo for
me to keep under my bed. It was his sister's marijuana that he stole as we
shared our first joint one morning before school. She had a fit that afternoon.
Luckily, she couldn't tell her parents what had happened.

Our friendship began to sour when
Eddie came along. I was completely blindsided at the time. Seth and Eddie began
to exclude me from their plans. I would approach them in school, and they would
quickly end their conversation when they saw me coming. I became the outsider
suddenly and without explanation. I was angry and hurt, and so I withdrew from
them, concentrating on my college applications, gradually distancing myself from
my connections to South Seaport with the knowledge that I would eventually be
leaving for good. I didn't even ask Seth what colleges he was applying to, and
I knew without asking that Eddie had no such plans.

I didn't really begin to regret the
loss of my best friend until the end of my first year in college. I suppose
that's how long it took me to get over my resentment of him and the way he so
willingly gave me up when someone better came along. Seth ended up going to
school in upstate New York. We talked occasionally, but it just wasn't the same
any longer and eventually the telephone calls ended.

When I heard his parents were
getting divorced, it was a surprise. They had seemed like the perfect family. But
nearly everyone I met in college had parents who were divorced and that fact
hardly distinguished a person in any way.

I hadn't intended to call Seth over
this Christmas break, but I realized that I was glad to have run into him at
the Christmas tree lot. Somewhere, a part of me wanted to get back in touch
with him. I should have shut that part down and not doing so turned out to be a
terrible mistake.

Somewhere in town, Mom had picked
up a completely hideous ornament that she totally adored. It was a brown
ceramic dog, sitting on its hind legs, holding a gold wrapped, red bowed gift box
in its front paws. A metal hook grew up from the top of its head. It was a
heavy ornament, and no matter where we attempted to place it, it caused the
tree to droop under its weight. I suggested that we put it on the fireplace
mantle, but Mom wouldn't hear of it. The rest of the ornaments were your
standard green, red and gold shiny balls, glittering snowflakes, and several strings
of yellow lights. I finally backed away from the tree frustrated by my
unsuccessful attempts to hang the ceramic dog. Mom took it from me and stuck it
right in the middle of the tree on the side facing the window so that it would
be visible to people passing by on the street. This caused it to tilt so that
it nearly leaned against the cold glass. Then she rubbed her hands together and
smiled cheerfully, pleased with herself.

"Isn't the tree beautiful,
Daniel?" she asked.

"Well, it kind of looks like
it’s trying to escape through the window.”

She turned to me, her smile
deflating. "I think it looks wonderful."

"It does, Mom, really. It
looks great."

She backed up slowly, her eyes
reflecting the tree lights. "You must be starving. I'll go start dinner."

We were just polishing off the
leftover chicken from last night when Dad came in. He looked tired and the
smell of cigarette smoke clung to him.

Mom immediately stood and began to
prepare a plate for him in a flustered manner. "George, I wish I had known
you'd be home for dinner. I would have made more."

He sat himself down in his usual
seat and loosened his tie, wincing as though it were a noose around his neck. "Whatever
you've got is fine. You don't have to make a big deal."

After asking me how my day was, he
began to shovel huge forkfuls of chicken into his mouth. I studied his rough,
calloused hand as it gripped the thin silver fork. His nails needed trimming,
dark grime was imbedded underneath them. The familiar navy baseball cap covered
his bald spot. He hadn't even bothered to take his coat off.

Exhibiting a tremendous amount of
willpower, my mother waited until he was halfway through his meal before asking
if he had noticed the tree in the living room. He looked up from his plate and
peered over my head.

"You can't see it from here,
George. Go and have a look."

He seemed annoyed. "I'd like
to finish my dinner first if you don't mind."

But she did mind, very much. I
wondered why she even bothered to care what he thought anymore. It saddened me
that she did. "Come on, Dad. You could at least take a quick look," I
suggested.

He set his fork down on the plate
with a clank, pushed his chair back, his face expressionless and trudged into
the living room. My mother's eyes followed his progression excitedly. I
continued to eat, not bothering to turn around. His voice came bellowing from
behind me.

"It's crooked, Maggie! The
damn thing is going to fall over and break the window."

I looked up at her, angry with
myself for not having learned my lesson by now. Her excited grin crumpled into
hurt and resentment. When he came back into the kitchen, Mom stood and threw
her napkin down on the table.

"You don't appreciate anything
I do. You act like you're living in a hotel, coming and going as you please. I'm
sick of it, George. Do you hear me? I can't take this anymore. I just can't. Why
did you even bother coming home tonight? Now you've ruined the evening for
Daniel. Move the damn tree if you don't like it there. I'm going to bed."

She pushed her chair away and went
upstairs. Dad sat silently and finished his dinner. I simply stared at my
plate, the familiar knot I felt when they fought forming in my stomach.

"You couldn't have just said
that you liked it?" I finally asked.

He picked up his empty plate and
brought it over to the sink. "She's not mad about the tree, Daniel."

"Then what is she mad
about?"

"It's something between your
mother and me,” he answered. Then he left the room.

I looked at the dirty dishes in the
sink, the carved up chicken carcass on the table, the crusty pots on the stove,
and I thought to hell with it. I didn't come home to clean up after them and
listen to them do battle. I grabbed my coat off the living room couch. The car
keys were still in the pocket. I could hear them jingling. I stepped out into
the cold night, my breath forming frosty white puffs, and I got into the car. For
one fleeting moment, I thought I might drive all the way back to school. Instead,
I started the motor and sat there waiting for the heat to come up. When I
backed out of the driveway, I didn't think I had a specific destination in
mind, but after a few minutes I realized that I was steering the car toward Seth's
house.

As I slowly pulled up in front of
the grey shingled structure, I noticed the driveway was empty, but that several
lights were glowing warmly through the drawn curtains. I headed up the walkway
wondering if Seth had been sincere when he casually mentioned getting together
over the vacation. The knot in my stomach tightened. I didn't quite know why I
was there. I wasn't sure if we were really even friends anymore.

When the door opened, he looked at
me with surprise. "Dan, hi."

I stood there sheepishly. "I
hope I'm not bothering you. I was just driving by and I saw the lights on
so..."

"You're not bothering me. My
mom went to work, and I was just making myself something to eat. Come on in.”

I followed him inside through the
plushly carpeted family room with its long maroon sofa. I walked past the tall
bare tree in the window and entered the bright kitchen. Their kitchen was
nearly twice the size of ours. On the table were the makings for a sandwich. There
was an uncut wedge of orange cheese, two pieces of crinkled aluminum foil which
contained heaping piles of bologna and salami, a package of whole wheat bread,
and a large jar of spicy mustard. Next to this spread were two empty amber Sam
Adams bottles.

"Want one?" he asked when
he noticed me eyeing the beer bottles.

"Okay.” I sat down, not taking
off my coat, waiting for the chill to wear off. The salty smell of the salami
was strong.

Seth had on old faded jeans and a long
sleeved, black t-shirt. I was surprised to notice that his once thick curly
hair seemed to be thinning on top. When he spotted me looking, he
self-consciously ran a hand over his head. Then he began piling slices of meat
onto a piece of bread. He asked if I wanted a sandwich, and I declined. As I
watched his sandwich grow taller, I finally said, "Sorry about your
parents, Seth."

He shrugged. "It's no big deal.
It was a long time coming.” Suddenly, he looked up at me smiling. "Hey did
you hear? My sister's getting married."

"Wow. Really?”

"Yeah, I guess there really is
someone for everyone."

He put the final slice of bread
atop his fist size sandwich. I drank from the cold bottle he’d handed me and
watched as he brought the sandwich to his open mouth with both hands and took a
huge bite from one corner. When he lowered it, there was a dab of yellow on the
side of his mouth. As I finished off the beer, the knot in my stomach slowly
began to loosen.

Seth chewed noisily and swallowed. He
got up and went to the refrigerator for another beer, bringing one back for me
also. "So how's college life?" he asked when he was seated again.

"Good, I guess.”

"You must really love it there.
You never come home."

"Being there is preferable to
being here. I'm only home now by default. Some other plans fell through,"
I explained.

"Parents still driving you
crazy?" he asked knowingly.

It was my turn to shrug.

"Would you believe that my dad
has a twenty-eight year old girlfriend? She's hot, too. They’re living
together. Got an apartment in Boston. I told him that he'd better not be
thinking about having any more kids. Could you imagine?”

I tried to imagine his overweight,
balding father with a young, hot girlfriend. It wasn’t easy.

After a pause, with another large
bite in one side of his mouth, Seth said, "At least your parents are still
together."

"Lucky me," I responded
sarcastically.

"See, that's always been your
problem, Dan," he said gesturing toward me with his sloppy sandwich. "You’ve
never appreciated what you've got. You’re an only child, and your mom dotes on
you. My mom's always working or going out with her friends. And remember how my
sister used to steal all my stuff and then lie about it? You were spoiled Dan,
and you didn't even know it.”