Chapter 39 Harrison
HARRISON
There is only one person in the world who should do this job, and I owe it to my brother. We have known each other for his entire life.
Tusk is mine to protect, and that means from pain.
I must kill him to help him, and I have to kill part of myself at the same time. I will have no greater pain in my life. Ever.
After entering the roofed enclosure, I lean the gun around a corner. It is just inside so Tusk won’t recognize it.
I walk up to the great cat lying on the straw inside but facing outside and towards the woods. I kneel in front of Tusk, and I can immediately tell he is drugged.
He lifts his head, and our eyes meet. “Hey, pal,” is all I have as I rub his ears and give him a wink.
I know there is more danger in him lashing out while he’s in pain, but I trust him. Trust him with my life.
I kneel, wet, and I run my hand over his large, dazed head. Tusk growls slow and long and pushes against my hand.
Lying on the straw, I lean in and hold him. The cat’s large heart pounds against mine, and it reminds me of sleeping next to him in bed.
When we were both young, we did it often. My sister Amanda and I used to take turns with him as a cub. Sleeping on our beds was calming, and I miss it, even now.
I remember back to when our folks said it was time. Time Tusk lived in his own home and outside. Amanda and I protested, and after, all three of us had stayed close, really close.
Today, the numbers would change again.
As I send him on.
Adjusting my position, I get closer to him. We are now basically spooning.
Tusk seems to calm, and I whisper into his soft, pointy ear every few seconds with a “Shhhhh.”
We did the same, at times, when he was young and couldn’t sleep. We figured Tusk had nightmares about losing his mother and seeing her slain.
I want Tusk to feel comfort and love.
Before.
Before…
I hug his warm, soft body as the cold bites into me. I think of all the great times we have had together and all the silly yet fun adventures we’d been on.
As I remember a Christmas when Amanda and I played a trick on him, his body tenses up. He then arches his back in pain. After, he growls loudly and slumps.
The pain must be returning and fast.
As I hold my sick brother, I realize the hours I thought I had would be cut short.
I hold him tight and whisper low into his ear again. I kiss his neck, and he growls in frustration.
As tears fall, I tell him.
I remind him about all the great times we had, and with Amanda. I hope my voice and the energy helps, and somehow, it makes him feel happiness, not pain.
I have nothing else… I have no other cards to play.
As the cold tries to claim my wet body, I cough and pull the old family hip flask from my pocket.
I take a long pull on the dented container, and the heat warms me. Wiping an eye, I hold Tusk closer.
Just a little bit longer.
I settle in, and soon it feels like we have time. Time that I need and time that Tusk needs to live...
Here on earth.
Just when he seems to be breathing calmly, and finally, he is almost asleep, pain wracks his body again.
His roar this time is longer, louder, and it exhausts him.
I carefully climb over Tusk and cradle his face in my cold, wet hands. My voice is far from strong and steady, but it’s all I have. “I love you, my brother.”
Wiping salty tears from my face and lips, I force myself to mumble my final goodbyes.
“I promise,” I say, breaking apart. “I promise to find you in the next lands. With her, and with all our parents.”
I pat Tusk’s face with my hands, forcing a smile. I then finish with one of our things. It is a nose kiss, and I look into his eyes.
His big, pointy ears then twitch, and I know he is aware. And he knows, I know, this is it.
He growls softly, and it is a sound I know well.
It is a sound he only makes when he wants one thing… To go outside.
He wants to go.
Holding him tight for what seems like a full minute, I mumble my last words, “Love you, brother, and see you upstairs.”
I force myself to stand and walk away. It is the hardest thing I will ever do. I finally look back, and we share a gentle look as if he knows.
I pause near the unseen rifle behind him in the darkness. I then lift the killing machine, and with shaking wet fingers, I check the bullets. Just like I was shown as a teen by my grandfather.
I inhale long and slow. I then walk carefully around the back of his body so he cannot hear me.
Finally, I get behind him as quiet as I can be. I then pause. Tusk flicks his tail, and he knows I am close.
I rub the back of his head with one hand, just how he has liked it all his life.
He flicks his tail backwards and forwards, and I calm. Maybe there is a chance, and maybe he is all right.
Suddenly, his back arches as more savage pain wracks his body from deep within. He roars loudly, and as lightning arcs over the lake, I rise.
I lift the gun barrel to the back of his head.
A place reserved for love, and my love.
And I fire.
I cast the gun aside, and it lands in the rain and mud.
I walk away, and then I find myself running. As I lean over the lake, I vomit and purge my stomach dry.
Lifting clean lake water, I wash my face. Next, I rinse my mouth and return to the enclosure, numb. As more thunder rumbles, I empty the silver hip flask. It is not a lot, but I’ll take anything I can get.
I walk to the wooden cart used for hauling Tusk’s feed and moving tools. After twenty minutes of careful sliding and rolling, I have my brother’s body on it.
After retrieving the muddy rifle and manhandling the cart into the middle of the lake road, I turn to the Land Rover that sits still in the darkness.
I signal it, and seconds later, it rolls my way.
William drives slowly, with the cart hooked on behind us, and we take Tusk towards the family cemetery in silence. As we are about to pass the chateau, I mumble, “Stop.”
Getting out, I walk around in the rain. I stop at William’s door, and the loyal old man looks reluctant.
“It’s a two-man job, son.”
I still like it when he uses the word son, but it’s not the time. “I will do it alone,” I say without emotion.
William and I share a look, and he gets out. He then pulls me in for a hug, and for the first time in my life, we embrace.
It feels strange, but I lean in and hold the old man. I close my eyes, and the uncle-like figure pats my back. He smells of strength. Strength, stability, wet suede, and boot polish.
William pulls another silver hip flask from his tweed jacket, and I shake it. Full.
I take it, and as I get in, I pause. As I look up, I find Samantha at my window. She is looking down, with a hand on the wet glass.
I have nothing left, so I climb in and drive.
The rain makes the grave digging harder, but the last storm has made the ground soft. The movement and the whisky keep me warm, and I dig the hole fast and hard.
Tusk will be next to my sister, Amanda, where he belongs.
As the rain finally stops, I finish the grave. It is not wet inside, and I wrap his body in the white linen from William.
Carefully, I lower Tusk’s body in, and I kneel and speak. I thank Tusk for being in my life, and I tell him I will find him again. Somewhere. Somehow.
As I stand, I look around. I need to leave something with him. Realizing the old family rifle is suitable, I make sure the safety is on.
Tusk might need it in the new world to protect himself before I find him again. Powerful Egyptians and others took things with them in death, and Tusk will take the weapon.
I place the gun down with him and exhale.
As I fill the grave in, I pause at times to wipe tears away.
Finally, the job is done, and I have no tears left. As I step back to check my completed work, I wipe my hands on my wet trousers.
It is the toughest job I’ve done. Done since burying my family.
Then, William and a few others close to the family had helped.
Today, it was all on me.
I drive past the chateau and onto the stables. I need space, and I don’t want comfort. I want coldness, and I want raw energy. I want to feel.
A ride in the cold is what I need, and maybe the night, alone. Alone in the old cabin around the lake.
The one I slept in after arguments with my father. Or when I was studying media, entertainment, business, and advertising.
I saddle up, then I walk the black stallion from the stables. As I pause before I mount, I try to work out if I’m cursed.
Thunder booms, and I want to fight the universe. To fight it to the death.
I go to mount as a light rain falls, and Samantha runs up. I pause, and I need space. I do not want to talk. Not now. We exchange a look, and Sam is smart enough to tell. To tell I’m a mess and broken.
“Baby, come inside.”
Not saying anything, I vault on. As Sam steps forwards, I spin the stallion, blocking her. “I need distance,” I grunt out.
“Baby, you need a hug.” I shake my head. “Hey, it’s me!” Sam says, trying to gently shake me out of it.
“Look,” I huff, starting to lose it, “stay away from me.”
“What?”
“I can’t do this.”
“What do you mean?” Samantha says, confused.
I shake my head, losing it. “This, us. Now.”
“What?”
“I can’t be part of a team.”
“What? Why?”
“I’m broken and no good to anyone.” Sam walks towards me, and I back the stallion up.
As I look through light rain to the lake, I want to die and for it all to be over. Everyone I’ve ever loved is gone, and I… I am going.
Lightning crackles, and it feels like the end.
Sam comes on and walks closer, touching my arm. “Baby, please. Come down.”
I don’t like it, and I stare down angrily. “Look, we’re all fucking broken, and I’m not who you think I am. I’m broken and no good.”
I inhale, and I want to run. Run from the world.
“Look, two halves can make a whole,” Sam says, tears now flowing. “Please, let me in. What’s wrong with you, baby?”
“I’m not fucking normal,” I growl. “And I warned you!”
“You’re just exhausted.”
“I’m broken, and there’s a difference!”
I need to go somewhere dark, fast, and away.
Forever.
“The best thing we can do in times like this is rest, and to help others.”
“I’m no good, don’t you get it?” I yell at her. “Go! Find another while you still have time!”
“How can you say that? What about all the times we’ve had? And what you’ve said?”
“Just color!” I say. “I work in entertainment. Spin is our craft!”
Tears stream down her unbelieving face, and I feel disgusted for hurting her. The thing is, I’m broken, and she will find out one day. Now is the right time. I’m no good. No good to anyone, and I will always be trouble for women. I’m not suitable for a relationship; I must live alone.
“But what about us?” Sam asks, big-eyed and sobbing below.
“Us?” I ask, looking down, with nothing left to give. “We’re fucking over.”
“You can’t mean that,” Sam says, trying to grab the reins as I go.
“Just go!” I say like a desperate savage.
Sam drops her head, and her arms let go. She stands in the returning rain, broken, like me, and tears run down her face. I feel disgusted. Disgusted with everything but her.
I kick hard, and I charge through the rain. I don’t want to stop. Ever.
There is nothing to stop for. There will never be anything to stop for.
Until everything finally ends!