“I need another beer.” Arrow muttered and rocked himself forward to a standing position.
“No. No. No.” Clive said rising quickly and closing the gap between them. He was much shorter than Arrow and not nearly as strong, but he reached out anyway to grip both shoulders and force Arrow to a seated position again.
“Getoff.” Arrow shrugged Clive’s helpful grip away and glared daggers at him. “This is my home. If you want my help, you gotta let me do what I want.”
“I need you sober.” Clive said, still trying to use his persuasion skills. He flashed a crooked smile and said, “I want you to remember this tomorrow.”
“I don’t.” Arrow growled, rising to a standing position again.
Clive could smell the sweat, fish, and beer wafting off of him and it wasn’t pleasant. He took an automatic step backward to alleviate his senses, but this signaled to Arrow that he was free to go get a beer. He lumbered up the single step and into the small kitchen.
“Please, if you would just listen to me…” Clive tried one last time to be polite but Arrow wasn’t having any of it.
“Leave if yur gonna cause me this headache.”
Pat sat unhelpfully on the couch with his hands folded and spindly legs looking too long to be comfortable. He also didn’t even seem to be paying attention to the conflict brewing.
Clive’s brain began to whir. He watched as Arrow opened his fridge and grabbed a single bottle of beer. Clive was so used to being able to coax people into doing what he wanted, he didn’t know how to behave when they didn’t listen.
But he knew he didn’t want to go to jail even more.
In his panic, his right arm shot out and nudged the bottle from Arrow’s loose grip. The bottle went crashing to the tile floor and glass spewed everywhere. Profanities flew from Arrow’s mouth in a garbled mess and his left foot lurched forward in his surprise. Unfortunately, the foot landed hard on the biggest shard of glass, and his tirade was cut short by a cry of pain. He hopped a few times on his right leg and leaned over to sit at his breakfast table. He called Clive another few choice words and wiped his brow with the back of his hand.
“I’m going.” Pat announced to the room as he stood.
“No, Pat!”
“Thanks anyway.” Pat was leaving and Clive wanted to go after him.
“Get this out of my foot! Yur the doctor!”
Clive’s attention was forcibly pulled away to the injured sailor. Mercifully, Arrow did have a first aid kit so Clive was able to remove the glass, dress the wound, and get the bleeding to stop. It wasn’t as deep of a cut as it had first appeared. Once Clive had swept up the glass and given Arrow the all-clear, he stood gingerly on the injured foot and nodded in approval. He limped to his armchair and sat down.
“Was that your last beer?”
“Yes.” Arrow said bitterly.
“Oh.” Clive tried to hide his pleasure but it was difficult.
“You’re lucky I need help on the boat. I’ll make you work, but you can ride with me.” Arrow conceded.
“Thank you, friend.”
Arrow waved away the word “friend” with a strong hand and sat in a thoughtful silence. Then he said, “Where’s the skinny boy?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
PAT SCRAMBLED UP the gravel hill. His head began to spin and the screaming got louder.
“You should’ve stayed home with me.” Justice said, but he couldn’t see her to his left or right.
As he nearly crested the hill he lost his balance and landed hard on his hands and knees. He felt the skin on his left palm tear. The world appeared to tilt sideways and he held himself up on wobbly arms to try to stay present. He desperately just wanted to lay face down on the rocks and sleep. After taking a few deep breaths and closing his eyes he was able to push himself to a standing position. The world had stopped spinning but the screaming was still there.
“Pat.” Theresa was approaching him as he made the way up to his car. He was shocked to even see her, so he didn’t bother to hide himself. “Where have you been all day?”
“Is it really you or am I seeing things?” His ears rang unnaturally loud.
“It’s me. I found your car by turning on the GPS tracker. You never showed up at the office so I was CONCERNED.” She stopped a few feet from him and put her hands on her hips in frustration.
“I had something I was looking into.”
“Well, I hope it wasn’t anything illegal.” Theresa’s tone was teasing but Pat knew that Theresa never joked. She genuinely thought he was up to no good. “The police stopped by again to speak with you. They still haven’t found that girl.” She squinted at Pat as if she knew he was guilty.
“You were never going to be my mother you know.” Pat said harshly as he cut past her to his car. He knew this was a low blow but the selfish part of him didn’t want to deal with her anymore.
He already had the door unlocked and was stepping inside when Theresa snapped back, “Someone has to be your mother! What has gotten into you lately?”
“Well, the previous employee for that job retired early so I wouldn’t recommend applying.”
Pat was about to close the door in her face, but she used her wide hips as a door stopper and was 4 inches from his face. Pat could have shared all that was on his mind. He could have told her that he was feeling claustrophobic dressing up and going to an office every day to do a job he wasn’t passionate about. He could have said that he felt like he was in a fog and forgetting portions of his life. He could have shared that he reached out to Clive and realized it was a mistake. He could tell her that screams were always at the back of his mind and he wasn’t sure where they were coming from. He could have told her that he had seen Justice. He could have said that missing Justice was the hardest thing he had ever experienced.
But Theresa didn’t deserve that kind of transparency from him. Her motives were nothing but transparent and none of them had his best interest.
“Owen never loved you. Helping me is not going to make you feel better about that.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.
Theresa’s eyes sparkled with the precursor to tears and her lips pressed together tightly. She backed up and allowed Pat to shut the car door and he turned his gaze to the backup camera so he would not have to absorb the weight of the grief he had dredged up. The fact that Owen had not loved Theresa the way she wanted was true, but hearing it said out loud wouldn’t ease her pain. Pat didn’t necessarily like her but she had stayed by his side despite it all.
He backed up the car and caught a brief glimpse of Theresa frozen in place as he pulled away from the boat dock.
