A Place Worth Living Read online

  Dad already has the first aid kit out, one step ahead of me.

  “Go outside, the light's better so I can clean your hand before you eat,” He says as he opens the kit and takes out the hydrogen peroxide and bandages.

  “Is it going to hurt?” I ask while unwrapping the fabric and walking to the door.

  “It doesn’t matter Taylor, it has to be done.”

  My eyes get big looking at the bottle of antiseptic.

  “Don’t freak out. He isn’t using alcohol,” Jake says. Jake stays in the kitchen, which consists of a small table and chairs that all fold up in case we need the floor space. We only stay at the camp for short periods of time so there is no need for running water, a sink, or refrigerator.

  In front of the camp we have chairs surrounding the designated fire area, and a hammock strung up between two trees close enough to still hear everyone by the fire. Dad and I go sit on the chairs that are facing each other. He passes me the bandages and takes my hurt hand in his.

  “You’re going to have to open your hand up more than that,” He pops open the peroxide bottle and looks back at my hand. I opened up my hand and whatever clotting had been done is pointless because the cut pops open. The bleeding starts again and I hold my breath as Dad pours hydrogen peroxide in it, “It is deeper than I thought. You might need stitches.”

  He gets up and goes inside the camp. He returns with butterfly bandages.

  “This will have to do until we get home,” He says while he does the best he can closing my wound using the butterflies then wraps my hand back up.

  “All done. Do the best you can to not use that hand. And Taylor, please be more careful. That could have been much worse.”

  “I know, Dad, but it was an instinct to grab the only weapon I had. I was running for my life. I would have been good if I wouldn’t have tripped.”

  “Tell me you’ll stop running with sharp objects and make me happy.”

  “Deal.”

  Jake walks outside juggling three paper plates with ice cream and cookie cake on them. He hands one to each of us, “If you would have listened the first time I yelled at you that the hog was back then you would be fine. I had a good shot until you freaked out and got in my line of fire.”

  “I didn’t hear …you at …first,” I manage to say between bites of cookie cake.

  Jake looks at my dad, “Don’t they always say guys are the ones with selective hearing?”

  Dad smiles, “Wait until you’re married then you’ll hear it every other day. Finish up, you two we’re going home before gangrene sets into that hand.”

  Jake stuffs the rest of his cake in his mouth and swallows it asking, “What about my hog? That sucker is huge. That could be my birthday present to you, Taylor. A nice hog head to hang in your bedroom.”

  “Pff, I’ll pass. Something that ugly will just remind me of you.”

  “Haha,” Jake says, not amused.

  I finish my plate. Dad hands me his plate and heads to the truck, “Chop, chop. Jake if you really want that hog then we are getting it now.”

  “Coming,” Jake says with a smug smile. He finishes his last spoonful of ice cream and tosses his plate on top of the stack I’m holding.

  They take off and leave me to clean up. Ugh. I go inside, throw away the trash, and put up the rest of the cake and ice cream. I open my bag to put up my dirty clothes and toothbrush. I find right inside my bag are three presents that weren't there before. I love my dad. He must have done this while he set up the food. All of them are wrapped but I can tell from the shape and weight of two of them that they are books. My parents give me at least one book ever birthday and Christmas. It is as if my parents were survivalist English teachers in another life with books about how to survive zombies, philosophies by various Mr. Know-it-alls, the history of guns, Marine’s autobiographies, autobiographies of past presidents, and more random topics. They expect me to read them all too. I have a backlog of about five books from the past two years and these will most likely go on that stack. The third one doesn’t sound like keys when I shake it. I frown a bit. I am not going to be mad if I don’t get a car but it would be nice.

  I put my clothes in the bag and set the presents on top. I tie the trash bag and get another piece of cookie cake. They did a great job sneaking in the food. All Dad or Jake had to do was lie in front of me for me to know something wasn’t right.

  Even when I was a kid I could identify lies like when Mom would say, “If you keep sticking your finger up your nose it will get stuck there.” It gave me this uncomfortable feeling and when I got a little older I figured out why. Once my parents knew that I could feel lies they just wouldn't answer when I asked a question that they didn’t want to answer honestly. My parents had to be creative when they wanted to surprise me but still, like my dad did today lying about where he was going, they occasionally slip up.

  Jake could not care less about my gift unless he wanted to know if he was being lied to. A couple times when his buddies would brag about fooling around with girls that Jake liked he would make me hang around and listen so I could tell him if it was the truth. His senior year there was a girl, Stephanie, all his friends were going after. She was mean to me the entire time we were on the track team together because I had beat the school’s record time for the hurdle that she had set. I walked up to Jake and his friends at lunch to tell him something when the guys started talking about her.

  Jake’s response was, “Man, her attitude ruins it for me. I’d rather take out a tuba player than be with a complete witch.” It was a lie but the lie was for me. He couldn’t have known I was there because I was walking up behind him at the time. He said it for me without me even having to be there. I was astonished and made it a point to be nice to him for the rest of the week.

  I just finished cleaning the camp to get rid of anything that mice or ants would want when the truck pulls up.

  Jake walks in saying, “It’s the biggest hog he’s seen.” He smiles at me.

  “My hog,” I mumble, loud enough for him to hear.

  “It definitely wasn’t your bullet that took it down, so better luck next time. Anyways, your dad told me we needed to pack up so we can head out.”

  “My stuff is packed and the camp is picked up so we’re waiting on you.”

  “You can grab your dad's things then while I get mine together,” He tells me.

  I give him a fake frown, “I would but my hand.” I hold it up for him to see. “I think I've already over done it so you won't mind finishing up.” I grab my bag with my good hand and leave Jake to finish packing, alone.

  “How’s your hand?” Dad asks when I get outside.

  “I think it stopped bleeding but I’m getting a headache,” I throw my bag in the back seat.

  Jake walks out just as I climb in the passenger seat so he can’t call it. He puts the rest of the bags and left over cake in the truck. Dad makes sure everything is locked up. They get in the truck and Dad starts it up saying, “We’ll stop at the gas station for some Advil. We need gas anyways.”

  “Okay.”

  I look at Dad’s cell phone to see if I can call Mom but there’s still no signal.

  “Don’t worry her until we get there, Taylor,” Dad tells me. “She’s already not feeling good.”

  I set the phone down.

  Dad and Jake get out once we park at the gas station. Jake pumps our gas while Dad goes inside to get me Advil and pay for gas. The next gas pump over are four guys standing at the back of a truck talking about the buck in the bed of the truck.

  A big guy is standing in the middle with one leg on the rear bumper telling them, “Yeah, I tagged it this morning. One shot and it dropped like a weight in water. Didn’t have to track or nothing. Right, Junior?” He looks at the smallest one in the group, a teenager that looks like a younger version of the big guy. They must be father and son.

  “Uh… yeah,” He looks at the other guys. “Maybe one day I’ll be that good.”

  T
he big guy looks a bit irritated at his son. The others are impressed and start asking about the gun and ammo he used.

  Jake finishes pumping gas and gets back in the truck. I turn to look at him in the back seat, “That man’s lying about killing that deer.”

  “Oh yeah? Well if I found something like that on the side of the road I’d say I killed it too. You see how big it is?”

  “No, I can’t see it but he didn’t find it on the side of the road either.”

  Jake’s eyes narrow on me. He leans closer, “Look at those guys and tell me what you think happened.”

  I look back out my window towards the group and concentrate. Everything around the group looks like it opens up. The man next to the big guy is talking about how he heard bad things about the gun the big guy used to take down the deer. He’s lying about the negative things he’s heard about the rifle. The truth is his wife wouldn’t let him spend that much money on a gun.

  This is new. I have never been able to get information from a lie before. I glance at Jake.

  “What?” He asks.

  I focus back on the group. The kid, he’s the one. It is like I can see him arguing inside of himself. I grab at everything I can from him.

  “The younger one shot the buck. He’s already bagged a big one this season and his dad is a jerk. He wants to go somewhere later so his dad’s holding that over his head. He doesn’t want the kid to out-shine him again so he takes the credit for the buck and his son is allowed to go out tonight.”

  Wow, I am good. Jake better watch out next time he lies around me. He stares at me a minute then looks at the group of guys. Dad climbs in the truck handing me the Advil and a bottle of water.

  “Hold on a sec,” Jake says as he jumps out and walks over to the other truck.

  He greets the group and takes his cell phone out. It looks like he takes a picture of the buck with the men standing around it smiling. He turns his attention to Junior and they step a short distance away from the older guys. The teen smiles and shakes Jake’s hand then takes out his phone.

  “What is he doing? We need to get going,” Dad grumbles.

  Jakes waves bye and runs back to the truck. I take the Advil and take a gulp of water.

  “You’ll never believe this, Uncle Darrell,” Jake says as he gets back in the truck.

  Dad starts the truck and pulls back on the road, “What’s that?”

  “Taylor just read those guys minds.”

  “How so?”

  “Those guys were talking and she not only knew they were lying but why they were lying.”

  Dad glances at me, then back to the road.

  “It’s not really like that, Dad. I just heard someone blatantly lying. When I really focused on him it was like reading, I guess. It just unfolded in front of me like a book.”

  Jake butts in like this is his story to tell, “That guy used to play basketball for Sam Dallas High. So I went over to see if I could find out if Taylor was making it up. After he recognized me and we stepped away from the group he admitted his old man hasn’t made a decent kill all season. He also gave me his number and invited me to a big bon fire his cousin is having this weekend. It’s going to be even harder to keep her under wraps now.”

  “Jake!” Dad barks making me jump from the unexpected out burst. Dad glares in the rear view mirror at him.

  “It slipped,” Jake says in response.

  “What just happened?” I look at Dad and he looks straight ahead.

  A couple minutes into the awkward silence Dad asks, “How long have you been able to do that?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t ever try to read into a lie I hear. I normally just ignore it or if it’s you guys I call you out.”

  “Let’s drop it until we get home, okay you two?”

  “Sure,” I say.

  Jake’s silent in the back seat. Dad probably hurt his feelings when he yelled at him. Being the high school star in our town he isn’t to use to being fussed at. I, on the other hand, am used to the frequent glares my parents give when they know I am about to call someone out on a lie.

  The trip home consists of silence and me pointing cars out to Dad that I could see myself in. Maybe he’ll get me one now that I’m about to be seventeen. Jake’s parents didn’t give him a ride until graduation and even once he got it he still didn’t go anywhere.

  His parents caught him leaving town one time with a car full of friends. Ever since then if he did want to stay the night somewhere Aunt Beth or Uncle Chuck dropped him off and picked him up. Jake and I suspect they have some kind of tracking device on his cell phone.

  I don’t sneak around like Jake does but my parents still refused to give me a car when I turned sixteen. Their reason: It is not age but maturity that dictates the responsibilities I am given. Blah, Blah, Blah. It is way past time now. I might have to have a serious discussion with them if a car is not in the driveway when I get home.

  Dad pulls in our driveway. I see Mom looking through the window, then running to the door. Sadly, no car with a big bow is waiting for me in the driveway, but we are back early so there’s still a chance.

  “What’s wrong? Everyone okay?” she asks rushing to Dad as he gets out of the truck.

  I get out the other side of the truck. I’m not going to be the one to tell her, so I stay safely where I am.

  “Calm down, everyone is okay. I tried to call but I didn’t have a signal to let you know we were coming back early. Jake caught a good sized hog from Taylor’s stand this morning.”

  Mom’s worried look quickly changes to skepticism, “That’s great, Jake.”

  Jake looks sheepishly at her as he gets out the truck. Mom squints her eyes at Jake’s nervous demeanor and looks back at Dad.

  “And he did a fine job shooting it because it just so happens…aahhh ItwaschasingTaylorwhenheshotit,” Dad says the last part fast but Mom understood.

  She looks over at me sternly saying, “Over here, where I can see you, Taylor.”

  I give her my best no big deal smile, as I walk to her from the other side of the truck. My hand had gone numb on the ride back from keeping it elevated the whole time. She looks over me and her eyes get big when they rest on my hand at my side.

  “What happened?” She asks as she gently takes my hand in hers and begins opening the bandage.

  “Its not a big deal, Mom. I just need a couple stitches is all.”

  “I yelled for her to watch out, Aunt Catherine, but she said she couldn’t hear me until it was already after her,” Jake chimes in, still looking sheepish. He walks away from us, toward his house.

  “Yeah, thanks for saving my life, Pal. What would I do without you?” I say sarcastically.

  “Now young lady, you better be thanking God for Jake being there to save your hide or there’s no telling how bad it could have been.”

  “Mom, the only reason I got cut was because I tripped. I could have gotten away from it on my own.”

  “Keep dreaming,” Jake says as he’s walking toward our backyard. Dad realizes he is about to be left with Mom and me so he takes off after Jake.

  Mom notices, “Where do you two think your going?”

  “We’re going to get Beth so she can take care of Taylor’s hand.”

  “Does that really take two people?” Mom smiles back at Dad.

  “We also need their scale for the hog. The one at the camp was broken. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, sweetheart.” He catches up to Jake as they turn the corner of the house, successfully leaving me alone with Mom.

  “There was nothing wrong with the scale at the camp,” I say while I grab my bag out the back seat with my good hand and turn to go inside.

  “I know, honey,” She takes the bag from me and opens the front door to let me in. Mom drops my bag just inside the door. “Go to the kitchen and start taking those butterfly stitches off. I’ll unload the rest of the bags.”

  Mom walks out the door and I head for the kitchen, when I hear the first scream. It’
s high pitched, a woman’s. I turn and don’t see Mom but it was too far away to have been her. I run to the open door. Mom is turned looking at me with big eyes.

  I hear her say, “ Oh no.”

  Before I could say anything, I hear someone else yell; this time from a man. It’s coming from behind our house. My dad.

  I take off toward Mr. Thomas’s yard. I don’t stop to open the gate dividing our yards; I jump over it like I’ve seen on Cops. I should have been on the high-jump team at school. No one is at Mr. Thomas’s. I make it to the edge of Mr. Thomas’s driveway where I skid to a halt. It was my dad yelling, but he was yelling from Jake’s front yard. Jake is lying on the ground with my dad standing over him. Four people are standing a little ways from Dad. One is dressed casually, with his back to me, and is holding Aunt Beth, who has both of her hands over her mouth. The man holding her lets go and moves toward Jake. Dad steps in front of the guy; I can see his mouth move but can’t tell what he’s saying. I step forward and open my mouth to call out to Dad.

  A big hand slaps down over my mouth and an arm wraps around my chest and arms. At the same time, I hear an old voice whisper firmly in my ear, “Hush, child.” What is Mr. Thomas doing? Doesn’t he see what’s going on across the street? Jake needs help. I watch as my dad then turns to Jake, leans down, and throws him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. One of the other people point dad to the SUV parked in the neighbors’ driveway. They all start walking to the vehicle when I finally see the guy whose back was to me. It’s Uncle Chuck.

  Mr. Thomas starts pulling me backward into his garage, away from the scene unfolding at Jake’s house. He lets go of me as my mom, pale as a ghost and holding a handgun, jogs up.

  “Sshh. Inside,” Mr. Thomas tells her and points to the door leading to his house. Once inside, Mr. Thomas goes straight to a closet in his hallway.

  “Mom, what’s going on?”

  “I don’t know,” She follows Mr. Thomas who is pulling a bag out of the closet. “Who were they, Tom? Why didn’t you warn us?”

  Mr. Thomas walks past her to the kitchen table I’m standing next to, puts the bag on the table, and opens it up, “If I knew they were here why would I keep it a secret and more importantly why the hell would I still be here?” He coughs catching his breathe. “They were basically in my front yard, Catherine!”