T.J. Klune - Bear, Otter, and the Kid 1 - Bear, Otter, and the Kid (36 page)
“I know,” I mutter.
Do I? Do I really?
I want to believe I do.
His hands are finally on me, rubbing up and down trying to find where I
am broken, trying to find where I bleed. I close my eyes for a moment, against my better judgment, relishing the feeling of his hands on me through the low ache that has already raised its ugly head. His hand reaches my thigh and grazes over it gently, and I inadvertently arch into it, unable to stop myself. I can tell he notices this as his breath catches in his throat and his hand grips harder. Electricity flows underneath his fingertips, and I cant help but groan, and he hears it, and suddenly his hands are all over me, and I feel his lips press against mine, and his mouth is hot and harsh as his tongue pierces my lips. I bring up my hands to wrap them around his neck and pull him down on top of me when I hear
her
warning once again, when I hear her damnable voice in my head, and its like shes right next to me, and I want to scream, but I know that it wont block her out, and it wont keep her away and—
who’s more important to you
—its loud, and it rings throughout my being, and I stop myself from grabbing onto his head. I stop myself from shoving him so deep inside of me that hell never get out because—
i can promise you that you will never see him again
—if I dont, I wont be able to end this, I wont be able to be the one that
He falls back on his ass, and I scramble to get away from him. My body hurts now as I move, and I know Im going to feel like shit tomorrow. I have to keep from crying out as I step down hard on my right ankle and pain flares up, glassy and bright. I dont think its broken, but its definitely twisted something fierce, and I kind of hop and skip away from him, realizing how ridiculous I must look, how ridiculous this whole thing must be. I need to get out of here. I need to leave before something else happens that Ill regret. Nothing can stop me from leaving now.
“Why, Bear?” he says, his voice broken and sad.
Nothing, I guess, except that. I stop. And turn.
“Why?” he says again when I cant bring myself to look at him. “Otter,” I sigh heavily. “I… Ive told you.” A tear fights its way out of
my eye, and I wipe it quickly away before its joined by more. “I dont believe you.”
“Then I dont know what else to say.”
“Say the truth.”
“This is the truth, Otter.” My voice is wavering, and I fight to keep control.
“No, its not. Two hours ago you loved me. Two hours ago, I believed you would do anything for me because you knew I would do anything for you.”
“I do love you, Otter. Just not in the way you want.” For that, I will never forgive myself.
“I dont believe that, either. As a matter of fact, I havent believed a word youve said since you got here tonight.”
“What more do you want me to say?” I ask.
Who needs you more?
“I want the truth, Bear. I think I deserve that, at least. I think that after all weve been through, after everything Ive done to get back to you, Ive earned that right.”
“Go back home, Otter,” I say, wanting to stop but unable to do so as I picture Ty being led away from me, being taken away from me.
“What?”
“Go back to San Diego. Go back and find your life.” I shudder at my words, knowing they are going to haunt me for the rest of my life, knowing this moment will forever be burned into my memory.
“Youre a coward.”
“I know,” I whisper, almost involuntarily.
“Then
why
?” he says, and I hear him climb to his feet. I look up at him and see him take a hesitant step toward me and then another and another. His eyes are wet and hard, and hes never looked at me like this before, not even when hes been at his angriest. Hes wounded and hes hurt and
I
caused it.
I
made it happen, but I know theres nothing I can do to take it away, to take it back. Ive cut him tonight, and hes bleeding right before me, and I am as hes said: a coward.
“Otter, just let me go,” I mumble. “Just let me go away from here. I cant take this anymore. I cant do this—”
“Ive fought for you,” he says, his voice matching his eyes, and he takes another step. “All my life, Ive fought for you.”
“I know.” I grimace, my stomach knotting up again, my head beginning to ache.
“The fight for you is all Ive ever—”
“Dont say it,” I interrupt. “Dont say that to me.”
Another step.
“Ill say whatever the fuck I want to say to you,” he growls at me. “I love you, and I always have, and I will fight for you. You can say what you want, but I will fight for you again.”
Another step.
“No,” I say, reaching down to find the last shred of resolve I have.
Another step.
“Yes,” he says, and the ocean begins to recede, and the thunder is growing distant, and Im losing it, and I almost dont care. I want him to save me. I want him to keep me from drowning, and I have time to think that maybe this will be okay, that maybe its better if were together because together we can fight her, together we can make sure everything she threatened will never happen. A ray of sunlight pierces the clouds, and I feel myself start to grow warm as Otter takes another step, and I can see his eyes soften ever so slightly, and at this moment, I know I need him more than I have ever needed anybody. He takes the final step, and hes standing in front of me, and I look up into the gold-green, and I think that everything could be okay, that we could do this, that we can make our life in this little corner of the world, and nobody will ever disturb us again, and Ill grow old with him, and I know that its possible. I know that its perfectly logical. I know its
inevitable
, and who am I to deny that, just who the
fuck
am I to fight that? But thats what makes it hurt so much more.
And thats because I know I cant take that risk.
I take a step back, and I dig down deep into the depths, feeling myself choke on the bitter saltwater as it burns its way down the back of my throat. I feel the murky bottom, and my hands slide into the silt there, and I find buried my last bit of resolve, the last part of me that can look into that goldgreen like it means nothing, like it hasnt changed me forever, like it hasnt shaken me to my core time and time again. But thats the thing about the ocean: it will always be there, no matter what you do.
“This
thing
,” I say quietly, “this
obsession
you have with me needs to end.”
His eyes flinch as if I raised my fist to his face, and I know Ive struck a chord this time, and it hits me, making what Ive but no choice to do that much harder. Whether hes wanted to admit it to himself or not, he has obsessed over me, so much so that it blinded him to almost everything else. Part of me has ingrained myself in him, making it near impossible to focus on his own life. I know this, only because hes done the same to me.
The buzzing in my ears grows louder, and I cant help but notice how it sounds so very much like listening to waves in a shell.
“I dont believe you,” he says, breaking through the roar, if only for a moment. “You wont walk away from this. You
can’t
.”
I know hes right and thats when I turn and walk out the door, feeling saltwater bile rising at the back of my throat and over my head.
Otter doesnt follow.
T
remember the car ride home.
Ive always heard people say that, and I always thought how stupid it sounded. How can you not remember driving home? You have to start, stop, move one way or another. Cars drive past you, in front of you, and you still cant remember the ride itself until you suddenly find yourself sitting in the parking lot of your shitty apartment, gripping the steering wheel so tight you feel that your fingers might just snap, ignoring the black hole that has suddenly formed in the pit of your stomach, wondering why you just made the biggest mistake of your life but knowing it was all because you are a father now, and fathers have to make the tough decisions, those decisions that no one else can make, if only to protect the ones that have been entrusted to them. How can you not remember?
clear my head (wake up? regain consciousness?) and realize Ive been in the parking lot for a while. The fog outside has seeped its way into the car, and my hands feel chilled, and my neck is stiff. Opening the door, I look at the stairs that lead up to the door where a little boy is waiting for me with hurt in his eyes and venom in his veins. One foot falls in front of the other, and somehow I make it up the steps.
Ive barely inserted the key into the door when it whips open. Creed is staring at me, the Kid curled in his arms. I try to ignore the sight of his little shoulders shaking.
Im bone tired, my brain on auto pilot. I slowly push past Creeds shoulder and close the door behind me. It
snicks
shut, and I dont want it to open ever again. I think its a fine idea to stay here forever, curled up in a ball in the corner, feeling the gentle current wash over me. Floating is always better than hurting.
God
, Bear, if you dont tell me what the hell just happened, Ill—” Creed begins again.
This stops him and his eyes narrow. “What did she do to you? Why the hell did she come back?”
“I dont want to talk about it.”
“Tough shit,” he says. “Otter brings the Kid home, and theyre both furious, and all they will tell me is that your
mother
is with you and that shes trying to make amends or something.”
I laugh, but theres no humor. “Or something,” I agree.
His eyes soften, and for a moment, I am startled to see the green and gold that I never noticed he had. Its duller than Otters, but its there. I look away.
“Bear, what did she do to you?”
“Do you really want to help me right now?”
He nods.
“Then I need you to do me a favor.”
“I told you. Anything.”
“Go home.” I raise my hand before he can retort. “Go home and leave us alone for now. I know that all you want to do is help. I get that. I love you for that. But I need you to be away from me right now.” I cant tell him its because he looks way to much like his brother and its annihilating me.
He still looks like hes going to protest, but he sees something in my eyes or hears something in my voice, and his shoulders sag. I raise my arms, and he transfers the Kid to me. Sadness rips through me as I feel my little brother tense at the exchange. I think hes going to struggle but instead, he hooks an arm around my neck and buries his face into my chest. I feel him shake. God. I turn to walk down the hall.
“You have to let me help you,” Creed says, and theres desperation in his voice. I look back, Lot and a pillar of salt notwithstanding, and he looks almost as lost as I feel. He says, “I remember the last time this happened, how stubborn you were, how strong you had to be. I remember you, Bear. You two cant do this alone. Please.”
passes. Then:
He shudders in my arms. “She did this, didnt she?” I hear him whisper. I dont know what to say.
She did this
!” The last coming out as a small cry, breaking.
I find my voice. “Im sorry, Kid. I did what I had to do to protect you.” I dont know if he can hear me because hes still chanting, “She did this, she did this,” in a low voice, rocking in my arms. Has he always been so small?
“Im sorry. But I have to keep you safe. I have to make sure that no one can take you away from me. Can you see that?” My words are soft, as I know saying them any louder will make them false. “I made a promise to myself the day she left. Through all the anger I had, through all the fear I carried, the guilt, I made a promise. Do you know what I promised, Kid?”
He rocks.
She did this she did this.
I raise my hands and put them gently to his face, stilling his movements. His eyes fix on mine, and I wonder just how much one kid, no matter even if hes
the
Kid, can take before he cracks. I put my forehead against his.
“Do you know what I promised?” I ask. He shakes his head and a small drop of water falls from his eyelash. “I promised myself that no matter what
“I promised that you were going to go to school, that you would always get whatever you wanted. I promised that I would put everything I had into making you proud of me and making you someone I would always be proud of.”
I shake my head. “Quiet.” I kiss his forehead, and his little arms go back around my neck. “I never wanted you to go through what she did to us ever again. I thought that I could be strong enough for the both of us. I wanted to give you what I never had. And—” And I cant continue because the words have become stuck in my throat. His hands clutch at the back of my head, and I feel anger and despair rip through me, and I cling back to him.
“Earthquakes?” he whispers in my ear. “Papa Bear?”
I nod. No one knows me better than he.
He slides his way from my lap and puts his hand in mine and tugs. He
pulls me to the bathtub, and we climb in. He crawls back into my lap and tears start to fall, and we feel the world shaking around us, the ocean at our feet and getting higher. Eventually we drift away, going wherever the current takes us.
did this
, it whispers. I feel it crawl up from the black and flit behind my eyes, sparks shooting in the darkness.
When you get to look back, when the memories and the faces of those involved start to fade, just remember: you did this. At least you will always have that, right? Right? Bear?