Beyond Denver

Chapter 22

Six years ago

I admire the Chelan mountains that stretch all the way from the Chelan river from my window. The rain pours hard on my roof, the chilly air coming into my bedroom. Days like that never end in Washington.

Mother comes home, and I notice a small notebook under her arm. I'm glad she is out and about, with her appearance much better from the days she'd spent lying in bed. The hollow circle around her eyes had been gone as they never existed. Her makeup gives her life, and the different bright red color gives her a new smile across the lips. The hair feels smooth on my hands as I touch the surface of it.

"What do you think of the new color, honey?"

"A little bit too red, but nice," I am honest with her. Those days are the best, the day my mother is happy.

I know how your mother is. She'll be this way for a while, trying new things or buying new stuff. I'm tired of hearing my parents fighting around the house, and I hope this time around, my father is nice to her.

"What's this notebook about?" I ask as she places it on the top of her desk. "Some meditation classes I've signed up for. Maybe you should try it sometime."

"Here in Chelan."

"No, honey. It is another town nearby. The lady there was telling me there is another huge group in Seattle. I don't understand why your father refuses to move."

"But I don't want to move either, mother."

"Are you saying that because of Jason or Jessa? They can still be friends with you. Visit from time to time." But I know that moving from there wouldn't be the same. The weekends at Adele and granny Gigi would be over. "Besides, what guarantee do we have that your dad will win the election? He always loses, anyway."

We have no idea my father had come home, but he is right there standing in front of us.

Outraged, he shouts, "Telling shit to her again, Mildred? And what the hell did you do to your hair? For god's sake, Mildred, she is fourteen years old! What do you want to accomplish with that?"

"So, what's the problem here? First of all, Cassidy is not stupid. She knows we are stuck in this place. There is so much more in Seattle to see. I am trying to leave from here since Cassidy was born, but now you keep your hopes only around elections you don't win!"

"I have the hope I'll win this time."

"And then what? Stay here another four or eight years?"

"You don't know what you want, Mildred."

I hear them arguing just as I was about to take my morning bath. "Stop," I yell. This is all I can say because they usually don't stop arguing any time soon.

"I've met a woman in my meditation class, and she is from here, too. She said she'd never vote for you, and neither of her family will." She places her notebook inside her purse, the only thing she cares about now.

"You need to leave whatever class you are taking now and come back to this family, Mildred. Don't you see they are just taking our money? Why don't you get a job?"

"They are good people, Robert. Just come with me and see for yourself. You might like it. Since I've met them, I've been sleeping better, feeling more like myself."

"You should take your mediation."

"For what? It doesn't make me feel alive! You want me to be as deadly as a ghost!" and just like that, my mother is shouting and screaming around the house, getting plates out of the cupboard and throwing them at the wall.

I leave through the door without them take any notice, the rain pouring so hard on my head, and yet I still can hear them screaming one block away. I want to take my bike, but it will be no use, so I walk without a destination, only smelling the musky wet grass. In literature class, my teacher once described this scent to be known as the petrichor. A distinct scent is caused by oil released from the Earth into the air before the rain starts to fall.

Moving to Seattle was an idea I didn't even want to think about. One of the so many other ones my mother had over the years. Every month is a different city, but Seattle seems to be the place that comes more often outside my mother's mouth. Last month she wanted to move to Tampa, and two months ago, she wanted to move to Phoenix.

In no time, I find Edmund walking alone in the main street. "What are you doing under the rain?" He asks me. He is the oldest of the Super Brothers. I like both brothers, but somehow, I seem to stick more with Eddie.

"I should ask you the same question. Where is Eddie?"

"He is under the weather. Why do you ask? I'm his brother, but I don't need to be with him all the time. But answering your question, I'm heading to Jason to do a puddle jump after the rain. Are you telling me where you are going?"

"Nowhere. Just walking."

"That seems stupid."

"Sure, like puddle jumping is not stupid."

"Right," he holds my arm. "Let's get a shortcut. Jason said the rain would end at any time, but tell me when Jason says things that aren't nonsense?"

"There is an abandoned house by the cemetery. Maybe we should get shelter there until the rain is over. I follow him, but the cemetery is about two blocks away. I'd heard ghost stories about a woman who always shows up at a certain time of the day, and furniture and objects move around the house. It sounded creepy enough, but this is the only place I can think of it now.

At this point, the rain seems to be getting worse, pouring even more, with flowing streams wherever we step. A violent short-lived thunder blasts above the clouds as the first hail falls from the sky. It falls just above my head as Edmund, and I run as fast as we can. We finally reach the abandoned house at the end of that street. The door has been broken as we enter the dusty room with some covered furniture that fits the small space. The moist air is present as I sneeze when dust meets my nostrils. A gush of air touches my back as I fell over Edmund, who holds me back. From the door, more hail fall and relieves rushes over me for arriving here safe.

"You're shivering," he offers me his jacket, but it feels icky. It is too soaked to make me warm.

"Don't tell Jason I'm here with you."

"Why not? What's the problem? Is it something about the house am I not supposed to know, Like a boys club?"

"Not exactly that. I'm not into talking about what that's about now, but please promise me you won't tell him we are here?"

"Just if you tell me," I challenge him.

"I'm sorry. I can't, Cassidy. Anyway, you are putting me in a tough position here."

"I don't understand."

"It is just that..."

I'm waiting for him to tell me, but I know he won't.

"Creepy place, isn't it?" Although I have to agree with him, I know what he is doing, trying to keep my mind away from the subject.

I hear a crack glass probably from the kitchen, and Edmund moves slowly to check it out. The kitchen floor, even dusty, has no sign of glasses or plates.

"Just our fears playing a trick on us."

"How did she die?"

"She killed herself."

"How and why?"

"She hung herself in one of the bedrooms. I don't know why. I guess depression is real."

***

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