Passing the Torch

VI

The drive down the two-mile dirt road kicked up a whirlwind of dust so thick it created a zero-visibility wall behind us. I loved the dirt, as it gave the illusion that we were separated from the frustrations of the city just by the few dusty particles that detached us from that world. Like a magic trick, poof, and we were transported to a whole new place.

"I'm proud of the As you got on your report card." Dad nudged me with his elbow from the driver's seat and shot me a smile when I glanced at him. "Checked the mail when I got home from work. Now we have something to celebrate this weekend, huh?"

I elbowed back. "I thought we were supposed to leave all the real world stuff behind us, huh?"

"We are. We will. Just wanted you to know how proud of you I am." The smile never left his face. My heart warmed. "I just wished I knew sooner. I would've bragged to the guys at the office."

As we approached the fence, my heart sped up. It had been a couple years since our last getaway together and the thought of beating my dad in the amount of fish I would catch kept racing through my mind.

"Who's bringing in the luggage?" He eyed me, a smirk curled his lips.

I presented my hand in the familiar game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. "Winner gets to kick their feet up the whole weekend. No cleaning dishes, no cooking, and no bringing in luggage."

He chuckled. "Deal. On three."

I hit the palm of my hand with my fist. "One ... Two ... Three!" On three he took his hands from the steering wheel to slap his palms together. I slammed my fist to my palm with my thumb extended. "I win!"

"What ... how so?" His eyes moved from the road to me and back again. "You got Rock."

"Nope, this is Lighter."

"What?" He laughed, his body convulsing with each uneven chuckle. "A lighter? Cheating is what it is."

He reached over and pulled my ponytail, playfully. "Cheater."

I pinched his forearm. "Loser."

He came to a stop at the fence and snickered, throwing the truck into park. "Come here." He opened his arms, gesturing for a welcoming hug, but stopped short. "What the fuck!" he said, looking out of the passenger-side window toward the cottage. He jumped out of the truck so quickly he left the engine running and the keys in the ignition. What had happened? I looked out of my window toward the cottage.

A scantily clad woman staggered from the porch, tripping on the last step and stumbling to get away. The door to our home away from home was left wide open, due to her leaving in such a hurry.

I'd never heard Dad curse like that before, and the way he vaulted over the fence like a sprint runner over a hurdle surprised me too.

"Where do you think you're going?" his words squeezed from his throat in a growl.