“We do?” Ruth asked, confusion lacing her voice.
“Yeah,” Viking confirmed, nodding. “You’ve seen a lot of pussies up close, so have I.” The van became silent.
“Is that so?” Ruth finally managed to say. Tension built in her shoulders at Viking’s crass comparison.
“Yeah,” He shrugged. “Of course, I’ve licked more cunts than I’ve seen. You know, sometimes it is fucking dark in the compound when I’ve got a leg tossed over my shoulder and I’m deep in the magic ‘V’. But over the years I’ve become a real fucking good pussy connoisseur.” I glanced to Ruth. Her cheeks were bright red and her brown eyes were saucer wide. “So,” Viking continued, roving his eyes over Ruth. “You ever need your pussy licked, you know where to come. Just putting the offer out there.”
“Shut the fuck up, Vike!” AK said, exasperated.
“What?” Viking asked, arms wide. “Can’t a brother offer his services without getting shit for it. I’m good at licking pussy, is that a fucking crime? We all have our fucking talents. You can shoot from miles away, Flame can kill with one blade, and I can make a bitch cream in two point five seconds. All talents are fucking valid, AK. I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Viking turned back to Ruth. “You know where to find me, Ruthie girl.”
“Okay,” she said and frowned. “Thank you… I think?”
“You’re fucking welcome.” Viking nudged AK when he faced forward again. “See? Some people appreciate my giving nature, unlike you, you moody fucker.”
“I’m pulling in to this motel,” AK said, the van turning right. I stretched my back.
“Are you okay, Maddie?” Ruth asked.
I nodded. “My back is aching, but I am okay.” Flame took tighter hold of my hand. I faced him, rubbing his arm. “I am okay.” His eyes finally met mine, the first time he had torn his gaze from the window all journey.
“Ruth,” Viking said, wincing. “I got something that aches too. Wanna take a look for me?” Ruth innocently went to open her mouth to respond, when
AK grabbed Viking by the collar of his cut and dragged him from the van. “We’ll get the rooms.”
AK and Viking went to the small reception. It was dark and late. We had planned to do most of the driving today. Ruth stepped out of the van leaving Asher, Flame and I alone. “If we leave early in the morning, then we will be in West Virginia at a good time,” I said. Flame grew still at the mention of West Virginia. I glanced back to Asher. He was staring out of the open van doors at the dark night sky. “Is that okay, Asher?” He fidgeted on the seat. Asher nodded his approval, then reached for his bag and jumped out of the van. I inhaled.
Am I even doing the right thing?
AK and Viking approached. AK threw a key at Asher. He darted across the car lot and disappeared into a room. He seemed in a hurry to get away from us. It was probably all too much for him. He probably needed time alone. We were taking him back to a place filled with painful memories. He would breathe in the familiar air of pain and sadness. Walk on soil tarnished by blood and abuse.
“Let us go to our room,” I said to Flame. He followed me out of the van.
“There’s a diner around back,” AK said. “You coming with us to get food?”
Flame tensed at AK’s question and began leading me away from his friends toward our room. AK saw this, his shoulders sank in disappointment. “We’ll bring you some back. Y’all have to eat.”
“Thank you,” I said. I took the key from AK’s outstretched hand. I led Flame to our room. As soon as we entered, he pulled me to the bed and lay down. I lay down beside him. Flame’s face was pale with lack of sleep. I pressed my hand to his cheek. “Sleep, baby, tomorrow will be here soon.”
Flame blinked. “I… I don’t. My head…” He tapped his temple. “It hurts.”
“I know,” I said and kissed the center of his forehead. It was his trepidation and fear. I knew it was. Going back to his home, to the place that was the genesis of all his pain, was never going to be easy. I lay my head on his chest. “Do you know how much I love you, Flame?” Flame’s arm wrapped around me, in confirmation. As soon as it did, our baby moved. “Our baby is moving,” I said. Flame froze. He pulled back his arm and moved a foot away from me. I held on to his hand. His eyes were wide and fearful. “Our baby is well, Flame. Our child is moving because you are near. He or she loves you,” I stated, my voice growing strained with emotion. I moved closer to Flame, placing my hand on his waist. I settled against his chest once more. “Sleep, baby,” I gently urged and stroked my hand up and down his arm. “Sleep. Rest.” Flame’s body relaxed into the mattress. I closed my eyes listening to Flame breathe.
All would be well.
*****
As we passed the sign welcoming us to West Virginia, Flame and Asher’s demeanor changed. Both sets of eyes hardened. I had shared with AK where we must go. As the few hours to our final destination counted down, the more I doubted this plan would work. I did not know if Flame would understand. Whether he could ever replace the turbulent memory of Isaiah dying in his arms, with that of a goodbye. I glanced out of the window when AK cleared his throat. I looked to the rearview mirror. AK nodded. I caught his reflection. We were close.
Asher’s leg bounced behind us. I turned and saw him biting his nails. He knew the area. No doubt the memories of this place were preying on his mind, the heavy weight of memories pulling him down to a place he did not want to go. My head snapped back to Flame when his finger started tapping on my wrist. He was mumbling under his breath… “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven…” He would breathe in, his finger would pause, then he would start again. “One, two…” I forced the tears away from my eyes. I told myself that Flame would not break. Eleven. It was always eleven… Isaiah had taken eleven small breaths before he lost his fight.
Silence became a scream as the van stopped. The area was deserted. Trees and high grass swayed in the breeze. Birds sang their songs from their perches on tree branches. And the water that formed the river played a soothing symphony as it danced toward the sea.
I kissed the back of Flame’s hand. “We are here,” I said to Flame. His attention was fixed on the river. I knew it would be. Isaiah’s memory was so burned into Flame’s soul, I knew he would recognize the river where his youngest brother’s ashes were scattered. “Come,” I said, as AK opened the door.
“We’ll stay back here,” he offered, nodding to Viking and Ruth.
Suddenly nerves erupted in my stomach, stealing my strength. This time it was me who squeezed Flame’s hand tightly. He must have sensed my distress, for his head moved off the window and his distraught eyes met mine. I stepped out of the
van. I ran my hand over my baby bump feeling my throat clog with sadness. This was our baby, our miracle, our hearts. I looked to the river and thought of Isaiah. I thought of Flame’s mother. Even unborn, I would give my life for our baby. What must her life had been like? How broken must she have been to leave her two children behind. To leave Flame, who desperately needed her, and baby Isaiah, who was helpless.
Asher came out of the van behind us. I reached back and clutched his hand. He tensed in surprise. But my heart cried anew. Asher’s mother had taken her life too. I cast my gaze from Asher to Flame. They were two beats of my heart, and they had been left alone. I found myself fixated on the river again. In the current, in the spirit of the water itself, lived Isaiah. A Cade brother I knew I would have l also loved beyond measure. Three Cade boys, all broken by the father they loved unconditionally. All they ever wanted was that love returned. They never got their greatest wish. I closed my eyes and felt a tear escape down my cheeks, no matter how hard I tried to hold it back. They were left believing they were unloved. They pushed everyone away, made bad decisions about people, because they did not know how to love or how to be loved.
I brought both hands to my mouth. I kissed the back of Asher hand, and then the back of Flame’s. I led them forward, leaving our friends behind. I ran my thumb over Flame’s pulse. It was racing. When we stopped on the shallow bank of the river, the water mere inches away, Flame whispered, “Maddie…” I turned to my husband and noted the distress so clearly inhabiting his dark gaze.
“You never got to say goodbye, Flame, to Isaiah. They took him from you, when they cast his ashes in this river. They stole your rightful goodbye.” I lay my head on his shoulder. “It is time you said farewell… we are here for you to say goodbye to your baby brother.” Flame’s breathing became erratic. I looked to Asher. His face was stricken. “Isaiah was your brother too, Asher,” I said softly. Tears fell down Asher’s cheeks, yet he did not move. “Although you did not know him, Isaiah was your older brother.”