Part 4

Tuesday, June 25th, 2030

Chapter 10: Laura

Laura blinked once, closely watching the clock on the bedside table next to her. 11:52pm. The illuminated number, even her bedside lamp now was at a slight tilt, one of the legs of the bedside table having been replaced and made not quite even. Across her room, even though it was now dark, she could still spot the recently patched drywall, splatters of gritty white that had not been painted over yet.

The dark had always been a quiet friend. Like being covered in a blanket, all safe and warm. But now, the dark had a different meaning. It didn’t mean safety, security. It meant despair. It was a dark that swallowed, not protected. It was a darkness that consumed and suppressed. A darkness Laura wasn’t so sure you could come back from.

In the past, if she felt caged, she would listen to the sounds around her, alive in the night. The pine trees rustling, drafts changing on the wind. The hum of the forest, the sound of the water quietly lapping at the shore of the lake. Even the night birds, all of them having since returned to their summer homes. She didn’t seek these sounds out anymore though, because to do so would be to also pick through the more intimate sounds, the ones closer to her. The clock on the far wall ticking, the hum of the refrigerator, the sounds of breathing. And now only two heart beats. The sound of Marie’s slow and steady one downstairs, and, of course, her own, wild and deliberate.

It was because of what she couldn’t hear that she chose to no longer listen.

11:54pm.

Laura sighed, feeling restless enough to turn on her little lamp and pick up her cell phone, surprised to see a new message there. Dani. Please know I’m around if you ever need to talk. Laura smiled slightly, but didn't feel compelled to respond. Every once in awhile she would text with Dani, but she hadn’t in a couple of weeks. Besides, Dani was busy. Laura didn’t like bothering her even when Laura did feel like talking. She would, however, bother Cole.

Tonight sucks, she texted and waited for a response.

Cole had been an incredibly important friend over the past few weeks, as awkward as some of their moments had been. Things had changed since that night at the dance, when they had both waited for their parents to pick them up. Jody had arrived early, Laura had been trying to call Marie. Cole had looked at her, offered her a ride. Laura had shaken her head through a small smile, adding Marie will be here, she always is, and he nodded. He squeezed her hand goodbye and Laura was speechless to say anything else as he darted through the rain to Jody’s car. Fifteen minutes had passed. Twenty. Marie’s voicemail. Again and again. As time passed, her anxiety grew. She knew, then, something had gone wrong. Not wanting to call attention to herself or her family, Laura easily slipped past the last of the chaperones waiting for the last couple of kids to be picked up and slinked out silently into the cold rain, resigned to walking. The sandals had made it difficult; she had taken them off. She remembered the way the cold, wet gravel hurt, the way she had thought it was still better than walking up the hill in those awful sandals, much more content to have the bare earth underneath her feet.

Suddenly, Laura’s phone buzzed, pulling her out of the memory.

Do you need anything from me? Cole texted back.

Laura sighed outwardly. That wasn’t the answer she wanted. She wanted him to say something like, yeah I bet it does suck . Things with him had come to a head a couple days after it had all ended. Jody, Cole’s brother, Danny, and Cole himself had come to the funeral, they all had. It had been held in the backyard, several hundred feet away from the house, near the property line. It had been a short ceremony. Kay had said a few words. Cole had been dressed in a sharp black suit, Laura in a black dress, both of their appearances reminiscent of how they had looked at the dance, save the fact all the color had been drained away, even from their faces.

The morning had been oddly cold, overcast, and Laura had clung her arms to her body. She couldn’t keep her gaze off of Marie, who was silent and tearless during the whole thing. Why wasn’t she crying? Laured turned this question over and over again in her mind. Laura wasn’t crying either though, she realized, and after it was all over, she had left Marie to her guests, stomping off into the woods, intending to walk the trail that edged the lake, the trail she had walked every day ever since, rain or shine. On this particular day, however, Cole had followed her:

Hey...Laura! Wait up! Cole shouted after her. He reached out to grab her hand and Laura looked down sharply at it, frowning before yanking it away.

“Where are you going?” he asked. It was almost an accusation, and something about this had angered Laura further.

“Nowhere,” she muttered, even as she kept walking down the trail, moving deeper into the woods.

“Hey, stop,” he said, and she finally did, turning to him.

“What do you want, Cole?” she asked wildly, and he grabbed her arm once more, moved closer to her. It was then he gently and chastely pressed his lips to hers. A shock reverberated through Laura, but not the good kind. El animal protested, and immediately she stepped away, overwhelmed and annoyed.

“ What are you doing?” she hissed sharply.

“Sorry..I,” he said, looking down at the moss under his feet. “I thought you might need-”

“I don’t need anything,” she snapped, holding back tears. “Or anyone.”

Or anyone.

I’m fine, Laura texted back.

11:58pm.

Amor. Secrets. A best friend. Now she had a better idea of how it worked. Cole was her good friend, but not someone she felt amor for. The kiss had proved it. It was so unlike what she had seen from Papá and Marie.

Papá .

Laura’s heart felt that deep, familiar ache once more, and she brought her pillow to her chest, hugging it more tightly. It didn’t make sense. It had been explained to her. She knew Marie had absorbed him, but in the weeks since Marie had, she had not said one word about it. Was he still there? Was he inside Marie’s mind somehow, watching the world go by? Laura couldn’t be sure, as Marie hadn’t told her anything. Marie hadn’t talked to hardly anyone lately. In the brief periods her adoptive mother was awake, she was always absent, blank somehow, prone to spending whole periods of time staring off into the distance or laying in bed. Laura wasn’t sure how many words Marie and she had exchanged in the weeks since they both had said their goodbyes to the man they had known, but it had to have been less than one hundred. Laura had finished out the school year predominantly alone, snagging rides with Jody or walking. And now that school was over, Laura realized how much she had been leaning on it for something to do. Now, there was nothing to distract her. This was only the second day that school was out, but already Laura felt claustrófobo . There was nothing to do. Nowhere to go.

Laura clutched the pillow closer to her. She wanted to be anywhere else but here, in this house. But Papá had tasked her with something important. Something she wouldn’t stop doing, no matter how hard it got. She still was, after all, an anchored red balloon.

You’ll need to protect Marie.

But what if Marie didn’t want protecting? Simply didn’t want Laura around at all?

Laura frowned, glancing back at the clock, and found a new day staring back at her.

12:00am.

She sighed, moving to click off the lamp light and move her pillow behind her head once more.

“ Feliz cumpleaños ,” the girl whispered to herself, to the dark.

--

There was no breakfast. Since it happened, there was never any breakfast. She had showered, gotten dressed, put her hair up on her own. With school out, there was no real reason to get ready anymore, but Laura was now in the habit, and there seemed to be no real reason to fall out of it either. She had snagged a book she hadn’t read in a while off her recently-mended bookshelf that Cole’s older brother had come over a couple of weeks ago to fix and had made her way downstairs.

The kitchen wasn’t clean. Laura needed to do a better job. Coffee mugs in the sink. A few crusty plates. Laura sighed, ignoring the dishes and moving to the empty coffee pot. The first week or so Kay had been over every day, and she still took to dropping in on them, but she couldn’t be there all the time. Laura had realized this, and she had texted Dani a couple of weeks ago about how to make the coffee right. ( For a strong mug of coffee, 1 tablespoon per cup of water.) Now, Laura carefully measured out the coffee, and poured the water into the maker.

In the fridge, she noticed groceries were low, most of the food from the funeral they had been sent now dwindling to nothing. Laura frowned, wondering how in the hell she was going to walk a full cart of groceries back to her house. Maybe Cole or Jody could help her, she thought, when she heard rustling in Marie’s bedroom. Laura turned around, looking sharply upward. Marie was awake. Laura bit her lip, snagging the mostly- empty milk from the fridge before closing it and willing the coffee to hurry up. She took what was already ready in the pot and poured it into one of the few still-clean mugs, blowing on it a little. She smelled the milk to make sure it hadn’t gone bad. Not yet. She poured a little in, stirred it with a spoon before tossing the utensil in the growing pile of dishes in the sink. Quietly, she padded over to the door, and knocked slightly.

No answer.

“Marie?” Laura asked quietly.

A sniffle, the shifting of blankets.

“Uh yes? Yeah Laura?” she heard the woman say.

“ Café con leche , Marie?” she asked carefully.

“Yeah...c-come in,” Marie said. Laura entered the darkened room carefully, quickly assessing. The bed unmade, Marie’s hair wet, having showered at some point in the past hour, but that was about all. Still her papa’s boots by the door, where they always had been. Books and tissues and sketching pencils piled up on Marie’s nightstand. Laura quietly handed the mug to Marie and the woman muttered a thank you, before looking up to Laura for one of the first times.

“Do you need a ride?” she asked quietly. Laura raised her brows, careful with what she said next.

“Marie...school’s out,” she said softly. Marie looked confused for a moment, but then glancing at the summer sun trying to peek it’s way through the black-out curtains, she seemed to make sense of it.

“Oh… yeah,” was all she said. Laura stood there, wringing her hands, before she murmured her daily request.

“Is it alright if I go for a walk?”

Marie was still looking down however, somewhere far off.

“Marie?” Laura said again.

“Yes?” she finally asked, looking back up at Laura once more.

“I’m going to go for a walk,” she said.

“Ok,” was all she whispered. Laura’s eyes glanced to where Marie had set the full mug of coffee, wondering when the last time it was that Marie had eaten anything. Laura sighed, leaving the woman then, closing the door gently behind her. She glanced once more at the messy kitchen, before a low, involuntary growl rumbled within her. Not right now. She couldn’t. Suddenly she found herself walking quickly to get outside, throwing open the door and shutting it just as quickly behind her. Softly, she breathed in the morning air, taking in the scents of the vibrant forest, grateful to be out of the house once more.

For a while, she simply stood on the deck, breathing, before she noticed that someone was making their way up the gravel drive on foot. She listened to the footsteps for a long time before she spotted him: Cole walking up to the house on his own, hands deep in the pockets of his denim jacket.

“Hi Cole,” Laura said, as he slowly walked up the stairs, eyes glancing at the door for a moment.

“So she forgot?” Cole asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Laura muttered. “Maybe.” Cole only sighed.

“Well, Happy Birthday Laura,” he said through a small smile. She returned it, scuffing a boot on the deck. “Thanks,” she murmured. She gestured to one of the deck chairs, deciding her walk could wait a few minutes, and they both took a seat, staring out at the soft blue tones of the lake beyond.

“So what have you been doing since school was out?” he asked.

“Nothing. This. You?” she said, sitting on her hands slightly, trying not to appear too stiff. Cole shrugged.

“Hockey still. Although Danny plays more than I do. He’s better than me” he muttered.

“He’s older,” Laura offered, and then, threw a slightly furrowed brow she added, “What, no video games?” Cole sighed, running a hand through his sleek black hair. It was even longer now, almost down to his chin. He had been growing it out in the tradition of most men who recognized their Athabascan heritage, and Laura liked that this was the reason he was doing it.

“They’ve been boring lately,” he finally offered. Laura only smiled a little, placing the bottom her the boot on the rails of the deck. Coles eyes were fixated on her boot and the lake beyond, before he murmured, “You know you can always come over, hang out if you want.”

Immediately, Laura frowned, drawing her knees up to her chest, boots now in front of her on the chair.

“Cole...” she began, but he quickly cut her off.

“Not like that. Listen, Laura...I know. I remember what you said..” he murmured looking down to the muddied floorboards beneath his own sneakers.

“Do you?” Laura asked, hands around her knees, even as she cast a side glance at Cole.

“You don’t like me,” he said quietly. Laura sighed, rolling her eyes a little as she sat up normally in the chair once more.

“No...that’s not it. I really like you,” she offered.

“But not like that …” he finished. Laura frowned. He was right. Not like that. And what did that mean? she wondered. She had been enamored with him the night of the dance, but she had also been pushing down something el animal had been trying to whisper to her all night. She had thought it had been about what Marie had once called arousal, but Laura had realized after some time, after everything with her father had ended, that el animal had been actually protesting her decision to go with him, to get close to him. No él it had been saying. Not him. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense; she should like him. Cole was nice to her. She enjoyed his company. Still though, no él. Laura looked to her hands, realizing too much time had passed, now trying to come up with something polite to say.

“I don’t know if I like anyone like that…maybe that’s not even possible for me…” she trailed off.

“Oh, come now. Shut up. That’s not true,” Cole said, and Laura smiled just the slightest at him.

“Your dad just died. You’re sad,” Cole offered. At this, Laura looked up sharply to him, emotions twisting in her chest.

“Thanks,” she automatically responded before she understood what she was saying. Cole seemed surprised at this too, especially since he recognize there was no note of sarcasm or snarkiness in her voice.

“For what?” he quietly asked. Laura breathed out slowly, trying to figure it out herself. For what, indeed?

For admitting to it, something inside her breathed. So far, Marie had only referred to Logan’s death as “since everything happened” or “since he said goodbye.” Other than the fact that they had lowered her father’s cold body into the ground and Laura had watched it happen, no one, not once, had said with such honesty described the events that had taken place.

Papá died. He had asked for Marie to kill him. Marie had. He was dead.

“For saying it out loud,” Laura finally finished, eyes still eerily dry.

“Yeah…” Cole trailed off, but when he realized she was gripping the sides of the chair tightly, he added, “Hey...it’s ok if you need to hit...or stab something. So long as it isn’t me,” he joked.

At this...Laura truly laughed a little, turning to face him.

“Trust me, I have,” she said, bringing her hands in front of her slowly, turning her palms upward and back again.

“That’s the problem,” she finally murmured, eyes far off for a moment. “Everything reminds me of him. I remind me of him. I think...that’s why Marie…”

“What?” Cole pressed. Laura looked up to Cole sharply, before shaking her head.

“Nothing…” Laura drifted off. Just then, she felt the warm presence of Cole’s hand taking Laura’s own on the armrest of the chair. It was distinctively not what everyone in school was calling a come-on though; instead, it was the physical representation of the warmth and compassion of a close friend.

“Laura...you’re really strong,” he said. Laura blushed, still withdrawing her hand while shaking her head.

“No,” she muttered.

“You are. You are,” Cole said, holding her gaze. “ And it’s important you don’t forget it.” She looked up to him once more, blinking back a couple of tears now, before immediately standing, pacing a little in front of Cole.

“I think I’m gonna go on a walk soon,” she said softly.

“Yeah, sure,” Cole said, now standing himself. “Before you leave though,” he hesitated, fumbling through his jacket pocket, “This is for you.” He held out a little box, wrapped in Christmas paper, jolly Santas and Christmas trees frosted in snow dancing across the front.

“Sorry,” he said, going a bit red. “It’s the only wrapping paper I could find.” Laura only smiled, fiddling with one edge of the box.

“Thanks,” she said, but then Cole was putting his hand out, obviously gesturing for her to wait.

“Don’t...open it right now. Open it later.”

“Ok,” Laura muttered, moving to pocket the small box, before staring at her boots once more.

“I’m gonna go,” Cole muttered. “Hockey practice soon. Also...my mom wants to drop off a cake for you later, if that’s ok.”

“To eat by myself?” Laura blinked.

Cole only shrugged his shoulders. “She wanted to do something.” Laura once more couldn't help but smile slightly.

“Thanks Cole. And tell your mom thanks,” Laura said, clutching her fingers more tightly around the tiny box in her pocket, the first, and only, birthday present she had ever received.



--

She walked further than she ever had. She walked and walked, sloughing off her jacket and tying it around her waist in the midday heat. She was far enough away from the lake house now that she let herself hear every sound, let it overwhelm her so much that she was sure she was nothing but the birch trees and slowly growing moss and the vultures lazily floating around the bright sky. The thing was that nature was nature. It did what it was supposed to do. No matter the pattern of the wood, the circles for each passing year infused into the timber, a pine tree’s sole purpose was simply to grow, reach toward the sky. It was simple. It was right. And Laura wanted to be like that. If only for right now, if only while everything hurt. She breathed and breathed, reminded herself she was alive until her mind seemed to know it, and that was enough.

It wasn’t until miles out that she caught the sight of green and red paper peeping out of her jacket pocket. She stopped, wiping the sweat off her forehead, pulling the little box whose wrapping paper was now damp with humidity, and she ripped it off, opening up the little box to be greeted with her own father’s dog tags. She blinked once or twice, trying to understand how Cole had found them. But she knew, could feel from the slight dents and nicks in the metal, the metal worn shiny, that they were the real thing, not a copy, and it was then she noticed the small note inside.

Marie was trying to give these to Kay. Told her to do something with them, sell them maybe. Kay thought that was wrong. “An act of grief.” I was at her shop yesterday. She told me to give them to you. Sorry it’s not quite a real present. But they’re yours now, I think. Laura brought them up through a shaky hand, the metal winking in the sun, before she gripped them tightly, roughly wiping her eyes with her fist before the tears sprung, the metal jingling as she did so.

--

Her arms were tightly crossed as she sat opposite to him on the couch. His posture remained open. She could tell today he felt at relative peace. They had been waiting a few days for a day like this. To end things on a buen dia.

Laura felt like hating him for it. He and Marie had made all the decisions. She, none.

“I know you’re mad,” he finally said, hands folded.

“I’m not,” she muttered.

“Come on, Laura.” She only glared at him, even as a fresh tear or two rolled down her cheeks, and she refused to wipe them away.

“You’re giving up,” she hissed. At this, Logan seemed disturbed. She knew she wasn’t being fair. Knew she already had agreed to it happening. But that was then and today was today. Their last day.

“I’m protecting you and Marie,” he said simply. Suddenly Laura stood, wanting to be somewhere, anywhere else. Logan stood just as quickly, striding over to her in less than a second.

“Come on kid...take it out,” he said. She tried jostling to the left, but he was just as quick, blocking her path.

“Move,” she snarled, and he only growled back in response. She hit him then, only moderately hard, and he took it. She did it again, crying out, stumbling forward, until she fell into his arms actively sobbing, hands still in the form of fists as she leaned softly into him.

“Papá, papá. ¿Qué me estás lastimando?” she murmured into his chest. He exhaled deeply, and she knew it was unfair. But all of it was.

And then, Esperanza, murmuring in her ear: My Papá , his thick hands and thick shoes, who wakes up tired in the dark, who drinks his coffee, and is gone before we wake, today is sitting on my bed. And I think if my papá died what would I do. I hold my papá in my arms. I hold him and hold him and hold him.

She clung to Logan more tightly. He held her just as close, even when she finally whispered into his chest, “If you leave, I won’t be able to save you.”

She could feel him wince, but still, he brought one steady hand up to her chin, lifting her small face up so she was looking at him.

“You can’t. That’s the point, little one,” he said softly, before quietly adding, “You remember what I told you? What I asked you to do?”

“Si,” she said so softly she wasn’t sure her own ears had heard it.

“Good,” he said again, before gently kissing her hair and then taking her by the hand.

“C’mon, hija. Enough of this. Let’s go outside. Go for a walk. See some things one last time.”

Laura offered him a sad smile, but followed him dutifully toward the door. His hand was almost on the handle before he stopped, obviously stricken with a thought, and turned back to her through a small, playful grin.

“Hey kid,” he said, still smiling. “What’s five times five?”

Laura coudn’t help but smile in return, even through another sniffle. She rolled her eyes slightly, shaking her head a little at the joke. “How do you say “too easy” in Spanish, papá?”

And then his rich, warm laughter in response. “You got me there. See? Too smart for me nowadays,” he said, gripping his daughter’s hand more tightly as they walked out into the bright, midday sun.
You must login (register) to review.