“It’s not going to happen, River,” snaps Emery, crossing his arms across his chest as if he’s five.
“Come on,” I whine, thrusting Patch’s reigns towards him. “It’s not that big of a deal.” We’re standing in front of the barn, and I’m holding onto both Patch and Silver. I thought it would be a good idea to take the horses out for a ride so we could be by ourselves to talk.
“You don’t understand,” he mutters, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.
“Don’t understand what?” I ask as he inhales. I stroke Silver’s forehead as I wait for a response. Emery mutters something again but this time I don’t hear. “What?”
“I’ve never rode a horse before!” He barks, angry.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, well that part is pretty obvious.” I extend my arm again for him to grab the reigns but he doesn’t budge. “It’s not that hard, and I have an idea.” I let the reigns drop onto the ground and head into the barn. When I’m back outside again, Emery looks really freaked out.
“You just leave them there?” He asks, taking a step away from the free horses.
“They won’t run off unless they’re scared,” I explain, as I take off Patch’s bridle. I replace it with a halter, and attach a lead hope. “Now look. I have a rope, so I’ll hold onto your horse while we go for a ride. Okay?”
Emery sighs, and drops his cancer stick onto the ground. He steps on it and twists his foot. “Do I have to?”
I can’t help but smile. “You know you do.”
“So this is…your sister’s horse?” asks Emery, as we sit on our horses, walking through the grassy fields. He still won’t relax, as he holds onto Patch’s mane tightly.
I nod. “Yep,” I sigh, thinking about how upset Patch was once he never got to see Ocean again. “That’s why Mary basically took him in when I wasn’t ready to.” He nods his head a few times, understanding. “Now it’s your turn.”
Emery looks up at the blue, cloudless sky. “Alright.” It takes him a few minutes of silence to find the right words to explain. “My dad was never the father he was supposed to be for me. I guess you could say he was never really a father at all,” he brushes his black hair away from his eyes, and stares down at the grass below us. “Ever since I was born, he couldn’t stand the thought of me. He didn’t understand why my mother would give me so much more attention than him, and that made him jealous.”
I try to put myself in Emery’s black Converse shoes, but I can’t. I can never imagine having my own father jealous of me whatsoever. What kind of parent tried to compete with their child?
“As far back as I can remember he never treated my mother and me the way he should have.” My mind wanders back to the photograph I found in his backpack, but I don’t bring it up. I don’t think I ever will, or it will ruin everything between Emery and I. “Two years ago, when I came home from school, my parents were in a huge argument,” he trails off for a moment, thinking of the memory. “My dad thought that my mother was having an affair, which she wasn’t, at least to my knowledge. He was attacking her, so I tried to get him to stop, which only made things worse.”
I stop the horses and reach my right hand out towards Emery. I place it on the top of his left hand, and pry it from Patch’s mane. I let our intertwined fingers hand in the open space between us, as he continues.
“To sum it up,” he whispers quietly. “I watched him strangle my mother, right before my eyes.” I squeeze his hand tightly as he looks in the opposite direction, clearly avoiding my eyes. “Then he tried to strangle me.”
My heart stops beating during the moment he says this. His dad is the reason he has the dreams. His dad tried to kill his own son. “Oh Emery,” I whisper, feeling tears slowly roll down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry.” I climb off Silver, and help him off Patch. I lead him a few feet away so we can sit in the grass, but we don’t get the chance.
“He almost killed me,” he shouts, as his body starts to tremble. He’s facing the opposite way with his head hung low. “And now he’s back.”
I rest my hand gently on his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”
Emery whips around to face me, throwing my comforting hand away. “No, it’s not, River!” He yells. “He’s going to kill me!” He puts his arms behind his head as he paces back and forth. He’s still shaking as he gasps for air.
“Emery, you’re overreacting,” I tell him gently. “Just take a deep breath and calm down. We will figure out-“ Emery stops pacing and takes a step towards me as he cuts me off. His arms are thrown around him angrily as he freaks out.
“I am not fucking overreacting!” He screams at me through clenched teeth. “He wants me dead!” I shake my head no. A father couldn’t kill his own son, could he? I think about what Emery said about his father strangling him, and killing his mother. Maybe Emery’s right. “It’s my fault my mother’s dead!”
I gasp as I reach out towards him. I want to hold his hand, hold his head, and hold his body. I just wanted him to feel like he is loved, because now, I realize that he never has been before. “It couldn’t possibly be your fault,” I whisper I hold his limp hand in mine.
Emery shakes his head, and smiles darkly. “Yes it is. My dad told me so. If I had never been born, my mother would be alive.” I squeeze his hand and take a step closer to him. I want to tell him that being born wasn’t his fault, but I know my words will be useless. Instead, I change the subject, but only slightly.
“So that’s how you ended up in my barn?” He stops trembling as I stare up into his glassy eyes. “Running away from your dad?” I try my hardest not to think about the future, because if I did, I would end up like how Emery is acting right now. I don’t want to think about him leaving, his dad finding him, or possibly losing him. I can’t; I won’t.
“Not exactly,” he squeezes my hand and looks up into the sky. A few feet away, the horses are grazing. “Everyone thinks it’s my fault for my mother’s death.” I raise my eyebrows and he continues. “My father washed my mother’s neck, and made sure that my finger prints were the ones left there…” he trails off as I step into him. I let go of his hand, and wrap my arms around his waist. I lean my forehead against his chest and the rest of the world falls away. “But nothing can be settled in court until they find my father.”
Emery rests his chin on the top of my head like he had last night. “We will make sure you are okay,” I whisper, holding back my tears at the thought of Emery being killed.
“Whether you try or not, it won’t make a difference,” he says sharply. “No matter how many times I say it; you’re family doesn’t understand. They don’t know my father. He will get me.”
For a few minutes, we stand in silence, only listening to the wind or the horses making noises. Emery wraps his arms around me and hugs me tightly.
“Why?” I ask after a while. “Why does he want you gone so badly?”
Emery doesn’t hesitate. “He blames me for my mother’s death.” I shake my head against his chest. This man who is Emery’s father cannot be sane. How could someone ruin two people’s lives, and blame a murder they committed on their own son?
“River,” Emery says after another long period of silence. I hold him as tight as I can, and I never want to let him go. “I’m going to die.”