Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Fourteen Years Before
Ryland
I ’ve spent a total of sixteen hours in this tiny car. Outside of the car window, I’ve watched as the land has changed multiple times from tall buildings, dusty flatlands, rolling mountains, bright-green farmlands, to endless rows of trees passing by. I would have enjoyed the change of scenery if I didn’t have to also endure Mom’s horrible taste in music or my little brother's constant fidgeting and humming. I’m about to lose my mind.
“Zane!” I mutter under my breath, making sure to scold him quietly without Mom hearing. “Stop.”
He sticks his tongue out at me like a toddler instead of the eleven-year-old that he is. He stops humming, and for a blissful five seconds, I enjoy the calm. Tap, tap, tap . Zane is now drumming on the book that’s sitting in his lap, and I bite the inside of my lip to keep from yelling at him again. Instead, I shove his shoulder and give him a look that says, I will break your fingers if you do not stop .
He seems to take the hint and turns his face toward the window. I let out an exhale and peek toward the rearview mirror. I was about to ask Mom if we are there yet, but I shut my mouth the moment I notice silent tears streaming down her face.
It’s not just Zane and me leaving behind the only home we’ve ever known, our friends, and our father. She is leaving things behind as well. I often forget that she is hurting too, but even so, I’m still annoyed with her decision.
She wipes away the tears before letting out a loud exhale and looks at me through the rearview mirror. I quickly dodge her sight because I’m upset with her for making us move multiple states away. However, there’s also a part of me that understands why she chose this for us. I’m just too stubborn to admit that she is somewhat right.
She announces, “We’re almost there, boys.”
Thank you, Jesus!
I keep my eyes on the trees passing by. We turn onto a dirt road that cuts through the dense forest. Beams of light peek through the leaves and dance against the ground as we move by. I watch as squirrels chase one another up trees, as birds swoop from branch to branch, and I spot a deer jumping over a log. I’d find it beautiful if I wasn’t so torn up about being here.
“Listen, I want you both to be on your best behavior. Promise me that you will be?” Mom asks after she turns the radio down.
“I promise,” Zane says in a small voice, and I manage a humph in reply.
“I know this is a lot to take in, but I promise this is going to be such a wonderful fresh start. You’ll get to spend your summers swimming in the lake and winters in a cozy cabin. Your Nan can bake like no other, and your Pops can teach you so much, like fishing, hunting, even building something on your own. He will be good for you boys. You both need a positive male influence in your life.” It sounds like she is trying to convince herself of these things, which only deepens my anger .
“The last thing I want is another male to try to influence me. I’m fine on my own,” I snap and cross my arms.
Guilt finds the pits of my stomach, turning it sour for being snippy toward her, but I can’t help it. I have always spoken my feelings out loud. It became a big issue between my father and me, my mouth landing me a few yellings and punishments. It’s always been a challenge for me to bite my tongue.
“I know you think you’re a grown man, Ryland, but you’re only fifteen years old. You’ve hardly had any experiences that can help build you into a man. You’ll thank me one day for moving us to Covewood. Trust me.”
I huff and squeeze my arms tighter around myself. My gut tries to tell me that she is probably right, but my heart is too upset at being taken away from my home. She’s making us live in the middle of nowhere. All we will be learning is how to survive in the wild, and this is not what I signed up for. Couldn’t we have just moved houses instead of across the country?
“Mom, did you like going to school here?” Zane asks beside me, his fingers drumming on his book again. I grind my teeth together in an attempt to not slap at his hands.
“I did. Everyone here has always been kind. You’ll be making new friends before you know it.”
“I don’t want any new friends. The friends that I have are just fine,” I add.
Mom’s shoulders sag, and she gives me a warning look through the mirror. “Ryland, you were hanging out with the wrong crowd and headed down a bad path. We’ve had this discussion already. You will make some really good friends here if you give them a chance. The people here are?—”
“Hillbillies?” I offer and instantly regret my choice of words. I wince at the look Mom gives me. She stomps on the brakes, sending Zane and me bumping our heads against the back of the seats. I rub my forehead and dare to look up at Mom’s heated gaze. She twists in her seat until she is facing us both.
“If I hear you call anyone that name or any cruel names at all, I will take your phone away and probably some other things I’ll figure out to punish you with. Do you hear me?”
“You’re already punishing me by bringing me to the middle of nowhere.”
“This isn’t nowhere. This is where I grew up. This is where Pops and Nan live. And if you could just give it a chance?—”
She closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. Beside me, Zane crinkles his nose and shakes his head. Such a mama's boy. He always takes her side. What happened to having each other’s backs in this? I know he didn’t want to move away just as much as I didn’t. Traitor.
Mom exhales, and I glance up at her. Her tears have returned. The sight punches me right in the gut. She has always tried her best to hide her emotions. I always thought it was so she could appear strong for us. But after we left my father and lived in a hotel for three weeks, I saw her cry more than I ever have in my fifteen years of life.
I want to tell her that I’m sorry, but my pride gets in the way, so I don’t.
“This move isn’t easy for me either. You’re not the only one leaving behind a life. But what you don’t understand—because you’re the teenager and I’m the mother—is that this move is worth you being mad at me because I am protecting my boys by removing us from the awful situation we were in. What kind of mother would I be had I let us stay any longer? I regret staying with your father for as long as I did. Would you prefer that we had continued to allow your father to treat us the way that he did?”
No.
“Would you want to end up in juvenile detention like the boys you were hanging out with?”
No .
“Don’t you want to live a peaceful life? For the three of us to be happier?”
Yes.
“Just…” she continues with a shaky voice. “Just give this a try, okay? That's all I ask.”
I nod and look back out toward the forest, unable to stomach the tears on her face. I see out of the corner of my eye that she watches me for a moment and pats my brother on the leg before turning forward in her seat and continuing down the gravel road.
After a few minutes, I see some cabins up ahead. There is a set of three. The smallest cabin is closer to the edge of the woods and overlooks the lake. The middle cabin, the one my Mom points to and says we will be living in, is nestled back in the woods. The larger cabin sits up on the top of the hill, which is where my grandparents live.
As Mom pulls the car into the driveway of our new home, an elderly couple, who I quickly recognize as Pops and Nan, is sitting on the front porch. They wave to us with bright smiles on their faces. Once or twice a year, we spent time with our grandparents either making the trip here or them coming to us. They always made sure to call us multiple times during the week. But for the last year, my father’s drinking issues increased, and so did his need to control us, which included him not wanting my grandparents involved in our lives.
As soon as the engine is off, I shuffle out of my seat as quickly as I can, and without a glance toward the cabin or at my grandparents, I stomp my way toward the lake. I take a deep breath, already feeling a bit better with the distance between myself and them.
I can taste the freshness of the crisp air. I faintly hear a small rustle in the surrounding greenery and the roar of a motor from a nearby boat. Once I find a dock at the edge of the trees, I walk across its creaky wood and take a seat at the edge. I welcome loneliness like an old friend .
A few minutes tick by before I sense that I am no longer alone. I turn and see Pops walking across the dock, and he takes a seat next to me. We keep our attention toward the lake and our words to ourselves. It’s awkward sitting here in silence—for a moment, that is—and then it becomes somewhat comforting. Finally , someone in my family who understands the importance of being quiet.
Pops looks over at me, and the left side of his lips slightly turn into a grin, raising the edge of his thick white mustache. “I’ve never taken you fishing, have I?”
I contemplate this for a second, thrown off by the random question. I shrug my shoulders, which has his grin growing into a full smile revealing bright white teeth. “No,” I admit.
He pats my knee, which causes me to jerk. The touch is affectionate—something I’m not used to from my father. Pops seems to notice as he removes his hand quickly and gives me an apologetic smile. “I’d like to take you tomorrow, if that’d be okay with you.”
I ponder for a moment, and since I have nothing better to do in a small town I know nothing about, I agree.
“Alright. I have to swing by my buddy Earl’s house in the morning and get some of my gear I lent to him. He has a granddaughter about your age. I have a feeling you and she could become good friends.”
I shrug my shoulders, not willing to tell him that I don’t want new friends, and keep my eyes on the lake in front of us. He makes an approving sound, pushes himself up, and begins walking back toward the cabins. He says over his shoulder, “I’m glad to have you all here.”