Run for the Hills

CHAPTER NINE #2

“She gave up quickly,” Pep said.

“Okay, well, I always figured something like this might happen. Not all of you at once. But even though I guess I knew I might have to explain myself, I never knew what I would say. There’s no good way to explain it. Or I don’t know myself.”

“That’s a terrible start,” Rube said.

“Well, goddamnit, it’s true, Rube. I hate that I did what I did. I don’t know why I did it. I wish I hadn’t. Maybe I should have stayed in Boston and just lived my life. But I didn’t. At that time, I didn’t think I could.”

“That’s fine,” Rube said. “You didn’t have to stay. But why did you just disappear? And why did you make up a new version of yourself? Why did you go to Tennessee and become a farmer? Or how did you even fool people into thinking you were a basketball coach? Or a filmmaker? How did you do any of this?”

Their father took a deep breath. “I wasn’t happy, Rube. It wasn’t you or your mom. It wasn’t even the situation. But I realized that I hadn’t accomplished much. I wrote those books, and it was exciting, and I thought I’d become, you know, Raymond Chandler or something, and I’d be this big deal. But no one cared. And I thought, okay, I tried something and it didn’t work and now I’m stuck. And it made me feel so trapped. And it made me—and I’m sorry to say this—but it made me angry. And then I started to imagine myself in a new way. I’ve always had this mind where I fixate on things and just kind of have an ability to pick up information and figure things out. And I don’t even remember why, but I got interested in organic farming and I started to think about a simpler life, and I read up on agriculture and it was exciting. I had this little life that I was living in my head while I was living my real life with you and your mother. And, eventually, that imaginary life was more important to me.”

“You could have taken us with you,” Rube said.

“Do you think your mom would have shoveled manure and driven a combine? I couldn’t imagine how I’d even convince her to come. And again, I felt trapped. And this was all maybe a year or so before I actually left. But I just started to consider what that new life might be in reality. And that made me happy. It made me, for the first time in a few years, happy and attentive to you and your mom, and I just had this feeling that soon I would leave. I don’t really remember, Rube. I’m sorry. I don’t think about this very much. But I just left. I got on a bus, and I had packed a few things, and I left. And as I passed through all these states that I’d never seen before, the farther I got from you and your mom, the easier it was for me to believe that I was this other person. And then I was this other person.”

“And you met my mom?” Mad asked.

“That wasn’t the plan. I hope you believe this, but it wasn’t that I set out to just start new families everywhere I went. But I wanted to be a farmer. And your mom’s family had left her this amazing farm, but it was in trouble. She was falling into debt. I had picked up some work on a neighboring farm, I’m sure your mom told you, and she liked me. I had a chance to put my ideas about organic farming to practical use. And it seemed strange to not return her affections just because I had this other family back in Boston.”

“That’s like the textbook definition of infidelity,” Pep offered, but their father, as if he couldn’t stop himself, just kept talking.

“Because I didn’t think I was the same person. And to even think about that person, who had kind of failed, was too difficult. And so I just stopped thinking about him. And I always just threw myself into the work of doing this new thing. And I did work hard. That farm completely changed once me and your mom took over. It was a big deal and it took so much time and effort. And I loved your mom. And I also loved your mom, Rube. It wasn’t that. But it felt like, okay, I had messed up before, but this was working. I was making this life and we had you, Mad, and I thought, okay, this time I’ve got it right.”

“But you didn’t get it right?” Mad asked, feeling the pain that she realized Rube was feeling, that Pep would be feeling, that Tom would be feeling, that they all had to share.

“I guess not. Time passed, and I stopped feeling fulfilled by it. And I started trying to find some way to stay, to be in this life that I’d made. And, because I’d done what I’d done to Rube’s mom, I was afraid of doing it again. So I started thinking about basketball, which was a sport that I didn’t know all that much about, and it felt like a good way to keep my mind occupied. And I should have known what my brain does, but I thought it was a way to anchor me, but I started to realize that it wouldn’t be that difficult to use these principles of basketball and actually be pretty good at coaching. I could see how it worked. I’ve always had a mind that could take all these complicated elements and streamline them and figure them out. And I thought of how interesting it would be to just try another life. And I tried hard, Mad. I hope you believe me, but I guess you don’t have any reason to believe me, but I tried to stay.”

“But you did leave,” Mad allowed.

“Yes, and I understood, as I was leaving and heading out farther west, that this was probably actually not going to be the last time I did it. I kind of admitted that maybe I was mentally ill and it was something that I was going to keep doing. No matter what I did, I could never become the person that I wanted to be. And I just shut off the part of my brain that thought about you and your mom and Rube and his mom and I just reset.”

“I’m sorry,” Pep offered, “because it means I would never have been born, but I kind of wish if you were going to keep doing it that you didn’t get married and have another kid.”

“I don’t wish that,” their father said to her. “God, I don’t wish that.”

“That would have been the responsible thing to do, Dad. It was the worst day of my life when you left,” she told him.

“Mine, too,” Rube said. Mad nodded. Even Tom was nodding.

“I’m sorry,” their father answered.

“You just kept making new families,” Pep said, “and leaving them.”

“I did. I just didn’t think about it. I can’t explain it. I wasn’t the same person. I really wasn’t.”

“You barely changed your name, Dad,” Mad said. “You went from Charles to Chuck to Chip to Carl. That’s not a new person.”

“It’s not like changing your name to Lucky or Moon or Haze,” Rube said. “That’s a radically new identity.”

“I’m not a psychologist,” their father admitted. “I don’t pretend to understand. Maybe I was trying not to lose myself entirely. I don’t know. Honestly, I haven’t thought about it. I know that may seem cruel—”

“It absolutely does, Dad,” Pep interjected.

“Yes, okay, but I don’t have an easy answer for you. I’m never going to satisfy you because there’s no good reason for a man to leave his family over and over and never see them again. I was just so ashamed that I had to forget you. I just tried to keep moving forward and do my best in that new life.”

“You were …” Tom started, but he couldn’t finish. They waited for him to figure it out. “You were a good dad.”

Pep said, “I hate it, but you were. You were a really good dad.”

Mad and Rube looked at each other at that moment. They were too far from their time with him to believe this was true. But they wouldn’t correct their siblings.

“I don’t deserve that,” their father said. “But thank you.”

“And then you left us,” Pep said, “and ended up in Utah.”

“And I thought maybe that was the end. I was getting older. At that point, I don’t think I even had any real belief that I could find an identity that would sustain me. I knew I wasn’t going to become a celebrated filmmaker or anything. But Trista was vulnerable, had run into some difficulties, and it was hard not to step in. At the very least, though, I thought maybe I could stay this time.” Their father looked at Tom, as if measuring what he knew and didn’t know. “It didn’t work out.”

“And now you have another kid,” Rube said. “And you named him Reuben. And you are somehow connected to three heiresses named Lucky and Moon and Haze, and you live on this huge ranch.”

“I ended up here, and I got work on the ranch and I met Lucky. She and her sisters had just inherited this property from their father after he died. And they wanted to turn it into an artist colony, an amazing kind of enclave for creative people. And they saw that I had an ability to work with the land, and I had made art before, and I didn’t even have an identity worked out. I just needed work, something to help me make peace with where I was in my life, and I just started using the pieces of my past.”

“And it seems like they know about you,” Mad offered.

“They do,” their father admitted. “I told them. Honestly, I think they kind of found it fascinating. They’re … quite interesting ladies. All of your moms are interesting ladies. I was lucky to meet women—”

“Please,” Pep said. “Don’t do that.”

“Okay, sorry. Yes. But they said I could live here. I would be the caretaker and help them remake this place into their vision. And I’ve been building all these cabins where the artists will each stay and taking care of the land, and putting in some agricultural work to make it a little more vibrant and there are so many acres and I guess art doesn’t need all of it. And that’s what I’ve been doing.”

“Did you make that structure we went into?” Mad asked.

“I did,” their father admitted. “It took so long. I don’t think I’m cut out for that kind of art, honestly, but the sisters wanted to have some existing art pieces for the colony before it got started. So I gave it my best shot.”

“And you have Rooster.”

“I do. It’s … it’s complicated.”

“Stop saying that,” Rube replied. “Your entire life is complicated. Rooster is not some weird outlier in the narrative of your life. Just tell us.”

“The sisters wanted an heir, wanted a child. I know that sounds weird, but they wanted to share their lives with someone and provide them with the same opportunities that they had. I think they believe it’s a responsibility for people with such privilege. But they weren’t in relationships and weren’t interested in them. And so they asked if … this is all very … well, I donated something and they used it to then make Rooster. And he’s Lucky’s child, entirely. I’m not on the birth certificate. I have no legal claim on him. That was the deal. But I am his father. I take care of him.”

“They let you live here in exchange for providing them with an heir?” Mad asked.

“Well, yeah, I guess so. I have Rooster and he lives here with me. He knows that I’m his father. And Lucky spends at least two weeks out of the month here with Rooster. So he has a mom and dad. And his two aunts are here a lot, as well.”

“So, if you leave, it’s not as big of a deal,” Rube said.

“I’m not leaving. I’m done with all that.”

“How do you know?” Rube asked.

“I just do,” their father replied, not meeting their gaze. “This is it.”

“Where are Lucky and Haze and Moon?” Pep asked.

“Hmm, well, Lucky is at a gallery opening in San Francisco because she’s interested in the artist being one of the first fellows for the colony. And Haze is in Vancouver on a yoga retreat. And Moon, who you already met, is working on a book, so she’s at the mansion back in the city proper.”

Mad wondered, if they had come on a week when their father wasn’t watching Rooster, if he would have told them any of this, if he would have excised this new child and the sister heiresses from his narrative. She imagined that he would, how quickly he would shed people to create an identity that fit his needs. It was hard for her to hate him, even though he had hurt them all in such profound ways that were nearly impossible to explain to another person. Even now, she watched him trying to compartmentalize his brain and his memories in such a way that he could keep all of them distinctly separate, even as they sat around him as a unified front of resentment.

“We have all done pretty amazing things without you,” Rube said. “Do you know that?”

“I haven’t had the bandwidth to keep up with all of you,” their father explained. “I am not surprised, as I told Mad. You were all quite impressive and talented when you were children.”

“Rube is a famous writer,” Pep offered. “He’s had his book made into a movie.”

“Wait, you wrote novels?” their father asked.

“You haven’t read them?” Rube asked, disappointed.

“I didn’t know about them,” their father admitted.

“Mysteries,” Rube said. “Detective novels.”

“Oh, like I did.”

“And Mad runs an organic farm and has been in magazines and is kind of a big deal with people who, like, care about farming.”

“She told me,” their father allowed.

Mad stepped in: “And Pep is an All-Big-Twelve guard for the Oklahoma Sooners. She was the Gatorade High School Player of the Year for the whole state.”

“Of course,” their father said. “Did you win state?”

“I did. For Howe.”

Their father’s eyes widened. “Not Pocola?”

“Nope,” she said, defiant, satisfied. “Howe.”

“Well done,” he said.

“And,” Rube continued, “Tom is a low-budget independent filmmaker.”

“I’m so proud of you, Tom.”

“I’m still working on our movie.”

“Oh, of course. That’s very good.”

“I’ll tell you more about it when we get time alone,” Tom added. Their father looked up at the rest of them. “So you’re staying the night?”

“At least,” Rube said. “We have more we want to say. We feel like we should each have some time with you one-on-one.”

“Well, I have Rooster for the whole week,” their father said, but Pep cut in: “I think we can babysit him. He’s our brother, kind of.”

“Okay, I’m not going to stop you. I don’t know what else I can do, don’t think I can give you everything you might want, but you can stay. There’s actually another cabin pretty nearby that’s furnished. You can stay there.”

“Can I stay here tonight?” Tom asked. “With you and Rooster?”

“Are you sure?” their father asked, again looking to the other siblings. Mad nodded her approval, and so he agreed.

“I have work I need to get done,” their father said. “It’s a lot of acreage, and I’m the only one out here. It’s not a ton of work, but it has to be done.”

“Dad,” Pep said, “I really, really, really hope you aren’t going to run away.”

“I’m not,” he protested. “I told you. I’m done. I can’t do anything else. I’m tired. I’m here. You can stay as long as you need, but I’m not leaving.”

“Maybe I’ll come with you?” Pep offered. “That can be my time to talk. You can show me around.”

“Can the rest of you watch Rooster?” their father asked.

“Will he not be worried if you’re not here?” Mad asked, hoping the answer was that the toddler would be terrified to be left with them and would need to be in the company of their father at all times. But their father smiled.

“He’s pretty easygoing. He won’t mind.”

“Okay,” Rube said, who then looked at Pep. “Are you okay on your own? I can come with you or—”

“It’s fine,” Pep said. “Unless you want to go first. You’re the firstborn and all.”

“Not yet,” Rube admitted. “You go ahead.”

And so Mad watched as their father, visibly grateful for the chance to get out of the cabin, walked alongside his third child to an all-terrain vehicle and then traveled down the dirt road, leaving the rest of them behind. It was oddly satisfying, in a dreamlike way, to watch their father leave with one of them along for the ride.

FORTY MINUTES LATER, THEY HEARD ROOSTER CRYING FROM THE BEDROOM , a guttural, irritated moaning, and all three of the remaining siblings looked with great alarm at each other. Rube clearly did not want to handle the child, as if touching a kid who was meant to be your replacement would mean you would instantly vaporize. Mad knew, because she was the only girl in the room, and because she was the only other adult, that she should go attend to the toddler, but she also wondered if maybe Tom might benefit from spending time with his younger sibling, that it might actually be a gift to Tom to form a bond with this little boy. But Tom looked at Mad and shook his head, and so Mad muttered an obscenity to herself and stood up to somehow calm Rooster.

When she walked into the bedroom, Rooster was standing up in his crib, his mouth firmly attached to the railing, still making that weird moaning sound, like the entire crib was a musical instrument that he was playing.

“Hey, Rooster,” Mad said to the toddler, who stopped making the sound, which was a huge relief to Mad, and observed her. “Did you sleep okay?” The toddler said nothing. “How do you get out of there? Are you able to climb out on your own?” Still nothing from Rooster. “Here is the thing, Rooster. I have actually never held a human child in my entire life. I’ve held baby calves and chicks and lambs and kids—I mean, baby goats—and, god, so many animal babies. But no one has ever handed me their child and asked me to hold them.”

Rooster seemed entirely uninterested in her confession. He merely held up his arms, his face filled with exasperation.

“I’m going to lift you up, okay? I’ll put my arms, I’ll put them here and then here,” she said, placing her hands under his armpits, feeling the weight of him, which felt both too heavy and too light at the same time, and then she lifted him out of the crib. And where should she put him? Could she drop him onto their father’s bed and he would then bounce into whatever thing he would do next? Or set him gently on the floor? But then he’d be on the floor, under her feet. What could she do? She was starting to feel this low-level anxiety rising in her. Without any other ideas, she simply held on to him. And Rooster allowed it. And she kind of jostled him up and down, softly, like, “hey, let’s test the limits of gravity together.” And then she felt dampness, the need for a diaper change.

“Rube?” she called out.

“Is everything okay in there?” Rube called out from the living room.

“Rooster needs to be changed.”

“Do you know where the diapers are?” he asked.

“Rube! Get in here,” she said.

He walked into the room. “Oh, there are the diapers right there,” he said, gesturing to a changing station.

Mad handed him Rooster before Rube could refuse. And then Rooster, in Rube’s unsure grip, yawned so wide that it looked like he was eating the universe, and then rubbed his eyes and nestled his face into Rube’s clavicle. Rube took a deep breath. He pulled the little boy into his embrace. Both of them allowed the other. Mad backed away slowly.

“I’ll change him,” Rube said.

“Have you ever done it before?” she asked.

“Nope,” he said. “But go on. I’ll figure it out.”

When she went back into the living room, Tom had his video camera trained on her. “Should I go in there?” he asked, but Mad shook her head.