The Finding Tree

Chapter 1 - The Drunk

Thirty years later

"Janey, You better get your ass back here!"

The drunk slurred and swayed in the doorway. His whiskey bottle clattered to the floor and leaked out a small puddle of amber liquor.  He picked it up and threw it as hard as he could toward a tree at the edge of the sloping lawn. The bottle made contact and smashed into a sparkling pile of shards and sharp points at the base of the trunk. The remnants of the liquid inside soaking into the earth like a tainted offering.

He stuttered, looked down and let out an anguished sob.

"Janey, don't run from me honey, I didn't mean to hurt you."

With no response coming from the whispering forest, the drunk turned around and staggered back inside, leaving the door open. He fell on the waiting couch. The anger extinguished, was replaced with self-loathing and despair. His tears turned to snores in only a few moments.

Janey knew better.

She knew when the drunk was around he would yell and scream cuss words at her, and now even hit. She knew that he wouldn't know what he did the next morning, and would deny the disaster that he had become. She knew that he wouldn't remember her running from his hard slap. She knew she had no choice but to survive.

Peeking around a tree at the far end of the yard, she eyed the glass at the base of the tree and knew that if she didn't clean it up someone could hurt themselves, and dad might remember what the drunk had done.

She sighed, and got a bucket from the garden shed and some gloves. The drunk would be asleep for the afternoon and evening. He wouldn't bother her anymore.

After picking up the glass, and tossing it all in the can by the back door. She finally let herself relive the day's events, and collapsed in tears.

The morning had started out so happy. She sniffled as she remembered. Mom had made breakfast. Blueberry pancakes and eggs.  Dad had come out, all showered and shaved. He was a little shaky, but smiled at them both as he tucked into his breakfast and cradled his hot coffee.

He was grinning out the window, as he drank the last of the brew and thunked his mug on the table. He loved the lake house almost as much as Janey did. Her mother tolerated their summers here. She wasn't too keen on spending her time away from her friends and social life, but Janey and her dad would soak up the air, the sun and wonderful nature of the place. At least until the drunk showed up.

"Janey do you want to go fishing today?"

"Yeah daddy," Janey grinned. "Can we stay on the dock though?"

She knew her father would bring beer wherever he went, especially fishing, and she didn't want to have him try to bring the skiff back to the dock. She knew enough to plan ahead that far.

"What? You scared of my boating skills?" He laughed and tugged on her braid.

"No dad, but the boat can be tippy, and it makes my tummy hurt." She ducked away from his grasp and pulled her braid from his hand.

"Okay dolly, we'll have it your way." He looked over at his wife, who was finishing up her breakfast. "Marc', do you think you can make us up some lunch to take down to the dock this afternoon?"

Marcie looked annoyed for a split second, but then smiled and looked at her daughter. "Sure thing. Tuna fish okay? The delivery boat won't get here 'til Thursday so there's not much else right now."

"I like Tuna, mama, it's okay." She turned to her father and saw the wistful look on his once handsome, now haggard face. He always looked tired and the limp he had was getting worse.  She knew that was a problem. He liked to drink when his leg hurt.