BRIDGER (2 page)

Arguing with him was out of the question.  He could have said the Loch Ness Monster had been on the other side of the ice waiting to attack.  Nodding, I put my arm around him.  We were frozen to the core.  “Memaw said to get you inside.”

Chris dipped his head in shame.  “She’s going to blame me.”

Anger flared inside of me as I listened to him become worried about Memaw’s reaction to it all. Why did it matter what she thought? Didn’t she always think the worst in every situation anyway? “No one’s going to blame you for anything.  It's not your fault.  You didn’t know the ice was weak.”

“That’s the thing, it was like five inches thick!  I don’t know what happened.”

Pulling him up, the tears still streamed silently.  “Let’s go.  We’re going to freeze to death.”

We staggered toward the house, each of us pulling the other forward. His body shivered against mine. The twinkling Christmas lights that Dad had strung up mocked our grief. I glanced back at the haunting scene unraveling at the pond; the shimmer of ambulance lights glinted off the ice and broken section of water. A ripple broke the still surface of the water, moss rising to the top and sinking back down as soon as it had appeared.

Once inside, Chris turned to gaze back down at the pond, his hand on the frosty window. He fought against the chatter of his teeth to make a coherent sentence. “I’m going to have to look out there every day of my life and know he died because I didn’t get him out in time. I don’t know if I can do that, Ash.”

Not knowing how to respond, I walked to the bathroom in search of towels and dry clothes that may have been left on the floor. Making myself do something other than focus on what had just happened made it feel like it might not all be real.

Not thirty minutes had passed since Dad died in my arms.  Then I had somehow pinned a grown man against an emergency vehicle and made his rear end a permanent imprint in the metal.  The need to run from the day’s events gnawed at my insides, eating away everything that wasn’t frozen already.

Walking back out, Chris took the towel and pair of dirty jeans without a word.  I turned and went downstairs to my room in the basement.  There was no way today could have seriously happened.

Dad couldn’t be gone.  Not really.  How had I pinned that man?  Nothing made sense.  My mind was racing.  The weight of the day threatened to crush me as I lay staring at the ceiling that was covered in posters of my favorite bands.  This had to be a bad dream.  Dad had to come thundering down the stairs to say my best friend, Jamie, was at the door any time now.  Sleep wasn’t an option.  Closing my suddenly tired eyes would give way to images worse than the ones playing out in my head.

I curled under the thick comforter as I tried to warm up. Even with the layers of warmth surrounding me, I still felt cold. Rolling over, I punched the pillow, causing it to fall off the bed. As it hit the floor, the manila envelope full of information on my upcoming trip fell out.  I had hidden everything there in excitement, wanting to look at it each night before going to sleep.

Dad and I had been planning the adventure to Ireland forever.  Just the two of us, we were going to go visit family from his and Memaw’s side after Christmas.  Now that would never happen.

Gathering up the travel brochures, tears spilled over again.  The happy faces of the people on the fronts made me ill.   Dumping the contents of the folder into the trash, all the smiling faces were purposely pointed down.

TWO

Pinning the man against the ambulance had been an adrenaline rush. That’s what Google chalked it up to.  Nothing budged when I tried to pick up the dresser, bed, or desk.  When did it seem like a good idea to try those ideas?  Frustration peaking, I turned on my music, sat down on the bed and leaned against the wall.  Eyes closed, I tried to focus on remembering what had happened.  It had happened, right?

The other unavoidable issue to wrestle with was Memaw. Sure, she was seventy years old, but that didn’t change the fact that we had never gotten along since I was old enough to walk and talk. She’d never wanted a granddaughter; it was always clear in her demeanor. I couldn’t even remember doing anything with her like a normal grandparent would. Not that I wanted to start now. Maybe I could get out of the house before she yelled at me some more with how horrible I was for beating up a paramedic. Memaw was old, but she was fierce.

Not five minutes later, Mom barged in unannounced and broke my concentration by turning the music off.  Memaw was with her, holding onto her arm.  “Ashlyn, Memaw wants to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

Memaw limped forward.  “I don’t care what you want to do.  We’re talking.  Sarah, could you leave us alone, please?”

Mom nodded, still in a daze, then walked upstairs. I sighed, grabbed my pillow and held it tight to my chest. Memaw stood at the side of the bed, her eyes boring holes into me. “What in the world were you thinking out there, grabbing the man like that?  You could have killed him.”

“It would be great to know what I was thinking out there, but the problem is, I wasn’t!  Why are you acting like I did it on purpose?  It was in the heat of the moment; it was just an emotional thing.  There’s no way I could do it again anyway, so why does it matter?”

She looked at me with pursed lips, then quickly turned away. That was a sure sign she was holding something back. I stood up and threw the pillow back on the bed.  “Is there more?  Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t act like there’s no Irish fairy tale story to tie into this. You always have one that refers back to me as a horrible person, anyway.”

We stared at each other.  Memaw was impossibly stubborn.  Luckily, it was a family trait. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Silence.

This was stupid.  What was the point of her yelling if she wasn’t even going to explain what crime had been committed?  I stormed away from her and kicked the trashcan, which ricocheted off the wall and flew toward Memaw.

I watched her eyes as they landed on the manila folder. “You threw away your flight tickets?”

“What’s the point in them if Dad’s gone?”

She picked up the folder, examining everything.  “You need to learn about your heritage.  Your past.”

“You know a lot.  Why don’t you just tell me?”

Her face turned red.  “Ashlyn Marie McVean, respect your elders.”

“Why?  It’s not like you respect me.”

She stomped over and grabbed my face. Memaw had never felt like a threat, but her grasp was stronger than I had imagined possible.  A wave of fear washed over me.  She felt like…more.  There was no logical way to explain it.

Jerking out of her reach, I turned my back on her.  “You’re hiding something.”

“You’re not ready.”

Bingo.  “So there
is
something!  You just yell at me for almost killing someone, but you won’t explain what happened.”

She reached out once more to try to connect.  I took another step away.  Then, an idea struck.  Snatching the folder from her, I stood on my toes and looked in her eyes.  “You know, maybe I’ll use those.  Jamie would go.”

Memaw’s face changed.  Instead of angry, she looked scared.  “You’re not going anywhere with Jamie.  She’s an accident waiting to happen.  We’ll have to pick you up from the airport in a matchbox.”

“Just watch me.”

“If I told you how you pinned that man against the ambulance, you wouldn’t believe me.”

My phone was on the stairs across the room.  Crossing the space in three strides, I grabbed it and texted Jamie quickly.  It was already a fact that she’d say yes. Her life was the envy of everyone at school.  Her nomadic, carefree lifestyle came from having parents who were always gone and didn’t seem to care what she was doing.  Returning to the conversation at hand, my focus returned to Memaw.  “You’re right.  I won’t.  I did a Google search and it was an adrenaline rush.  You don’t know anything that the Internet didn’t already explain.”

The reverse psychology worked.  Finally driving her to the edge, her Irish accent was thick once more.  “Seen any action movies lately?”

I stopped, stunned.  Did she know Jamie, Reese, and I had gone to see that bounty hunter movie?  No, she couldn’t.  We didn’t tell anyone, especially our parents.  Sneaking into R-rated movies wasn’t something you discussed over dinner with them.  It kind of killed the point.  “Why would that matter?”

She smiled.  “I thought so.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’re more than you think. It means we need to have a talk. You and I. You need to start listening to the things I’ve been telling you.”

“You never tell me anything but one more of your Irish legends. I’m not interested in –” I wanted to continue, but at that moment the phone went off.  Reading the text, a smug grin came over my face. “Jamie can go to Ireland.  We just need to call the airline and change the name on the ticket.”

Memaw was as white as the sheets on the bed.  “Ashlyn, don’t.”

“Why not?  Will I kill Jamie by accident?  Snap the plane in half?  Shoot fireballs from my eyes?”

“Just…don’t.  You’re a –”

“I’m a what?  A girl who overreacted after watching her dad die?  That’d be right.  A freak? If so, it doesn’t change the fact that Jamie’s my best friend and we’re going to Ireland next week.”

With that, I stormed up the stairs, leaving Memaw to fend for herself.

Mom was standing at the top.  She must have been eavesdropping.  “Ashlyn, you’re not a freak.”

I grabbed my coat and headed for the door.

Mom started again. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To see Reese.”  I slammed the door before she could respond.

* * *

Reese opened the front door before I could even knock.  There was worry etched in every line of his face.  “Hey, Ash.  Shouldn’t you be with –”

“No, I shouldn’t.”

“Ah. Okay.”  He opened the door wide and gestured in, asking no other questions.

We went to his room, where Jamie was sprawled across his disgusting, faux leather couch.  He’d “rescued” the thing from someone’s yard down the street this summer.  Jamie couch surfed between friends’ houses, so tonight must be Reese’s turn.  She was always staying with someone, as her house was usually empty and devoid of food. Bobbing her head, she kept time with the music we couldn’t hear.  Pulling one ear bud out, she smiled.  She was never very good with being sensitive to a situation.  “Hey, Sis. How are you holding up?”

I shrugged.  “Not great.”

Reese grabbed my hips and pulled us onto his full-sized bed.  He was my best friend besides Jamie, but he thought it was more.  It wasn’t.  Today I didn’t have the energy to fight the blurred lines he’d created.  He pulled me close, and I was thankful for the comfort he brought.  “Let’s hear it,” he said.

“Remember Bounty Line Blood?  The movie we snuck into last week?”

Reese laughed.  “Yeah, we all do.  It was crap.”

Jamie nodded.  “Waste of eight bucks.  At least the concessions guy was hot.”

“Jamie, you think any guy with two legs and a face is hot.”

Shaking my head at their rabbit trail conversation, I brought them back to earth.  “Remember when the main guy pinned the runaway against a wall? Well, I pinned a guy against the ambulance exactly like that. The scene popped into my head, then out of nowhere I was doing it.”

Reese snorted.  “Riiight.  Was he a midget?”

“He was the size of Chris.”