Earthbound (2 page)

It was only about six months ago, although it
feels like a couple of years. I stood on the edge of the Missouri
River, staring thirty feet down into blinding white water. Black
Eagle Falls was seducing me. The fall would probably kill me, or if
not, odds were good my head would smash against the cement remains
of what used to be a dam. But no matter if it didn’t. I’d just open
up my lungs and inhale. Gladly. Not much point in sticking around
long enough to officially become a man, old enough for me to
legally be able to buy a drink – not that the laws ever stopped me
anyway. No, I pretty much became a man at the age of twelve. In
that very same spot, I stood and wondered why my mother willingly
jumped in. Why she allowed herself to drown. Why her body washed up
a few miles further down the shore. Becca was with me then, I’ll
never forget it, with her arm around my shoulder, trying her
damndest to comfort me. I didn’t need comfort though. I already
knew what it was like to lose a parent. I just needed to understand
why.

But six months ago, Becca wasn’t with me
anymore, I’d made damn sure of that. I was alone, ten some odd
years since my mother died, not sure why I was still breathing. I’d
grown in those ten years, filled out, gotten stronger. Figured my
body mass would make me fall faster. That’s about all I cared to
know about physics. But I do know a lot about nature. She’s been
reclaiming the earth over the past couple hundred years, taking
back what people bastardized. Plant and animal life are reassuming
their dominance. Monuments to mankind are barely recognizable
anymore, compared to what I’ve seen in history books, which isn’t
much cause I’m not much of a history student. All we’ve got left
are our effing settlements, and if our birth rate continues the way
it has been, then given another thousand years, there’ll be
precious little evidence that man was there at all, if the earth
even lasts that long.

The earth wouldn’t miss me. Probably never
wanted me anyway.

People wouldn’t miss me much either. No, I’m
just like my old man. It took me a few years but I’d figured out
why my mother killed herself. It was only a matter of time before I
followed in his footsteps. Better if I end it myself before
innocent people have to die.

I looked up at the sky for what I thought
would be one last time. Everyone talks about how lucky we are, how
effing beautiful Montana is. But I don’t effing see it. It’s all
I’ve ever seen. It’s just all gray to me. So I let my eyelids slide
shut. My body started to tip forward. It was the call of the
waterfall, I couldn’t resist it. Speckles of cold water peppered my
face. And that deafening roar of water was so soothing.

That was it, I thought. Time to go.

I can’t tell you why I didn’t fall in. I’m
not really sure. Maybe it’s cause I couldn’t tell whether that’s
what my mother would have wanted or if she would have been
disappointed. I dunno.

Okay, I’m effing lying to you already. I know
why. I heard a voice say my name. “Asher.” And it was her voice.
Becca’s voice, as if she was standing right next to me. It had to
have been her. But when I opened my eyes, staring at all the effing
gray terrain all around me, Becca was nowhere around me. Course she
wasn’t there. She’s just in my head. I cursed and took a few steps
back from the edge. I guess I knew I was ready to die. But there
was something I needed to do first. I just wasn’t sure how or
exactly what.

Kinda disappointed, I went back to a field
where I’d set my horse free. My horse’s name is Charon by the way.
We understand each other. He gets me where I need to go. Guess
that’s why he waited around for me. Probably knew with his horse
sense that I didn’t have the guts to jump in.

I got back to our settlement around
nightfall. It’s called Great Falls. There’s another waterfall
nearby that goes by the same name. Not very original. We got five
falls all told. Black Eagle is the closest to our settlement. Then
Colton Falls, Rainbow Falls, Crooked Falls and then the biggest one
of all Great Falls. That one has a ninety foot drop. Guess that’s
why they call it Great. Really effing clever.

I didn’t want to go back to my family’s
house. Never did until I had no choice. So instead, well past
curfew, as usual, I haunted the only saloon in our little
settlement. I planned on taking up my usual stool at the bar, where
nobody bothers me so I don’t bother anyone else. And that’s exactly
what I did.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a shot
glass nudged over in my direction. I could tell by the color, it
was filled with the good stuff. Hell, I couldn’t afford that. I
glanced up and saw it was Pace who owned that whiskey. Of course it
was, effing rich boy. He gave me a nod. I ignored him. I can pay
for my own liquor. Most guys give you an expensive drink, there are
strings attached. But as I’ve learned, not Pace. He just likes to
share – to be the guy everyone likes to hang around with. It was
probably easier for him back then, when he worked for his father at
the bank. He was lucky I guess, making good money, growing up
without really understanding hunger, like the rest of us.

At that point me and Pace were less than
friends. Not enemies either. I just kinda figured it was best to
not know him. He’s a talker. Case you haven’t figured it out, I’m
not much of a talker. I was kinda cringing, hoping he wouldn’t
strike up a conversation. Bragging about his exploits with the
pretty girls in town. That’s what he liked to do. Maybe it was just
bar talk, I don’t know how many of these girls Pace was actually
with, but I suspect everything he told me was true. As I’ve learned
over time, Pace has a problem with lying, whereas I have a
comfortable relationship with lies. Anyway, I was hoping that
refusing his liquor was enough to shut him up, and for a time it
was. When he finally spoke, I don’t think he was talking to me.

“Whoa, look at that!” Pace said.

I looked up and saw him glance over at a girl
leaning against the pool table, laughing with some friends and
knocking down some homemade whisky. Pace didn’t need to point her
out to me. I noticed her the minute she walked in the saloon. I
always notice her.

Rebecca. I’ve always called her Becca, but I
don’t think most people do. I always lose a little bit of my breath
when I see her. And it’s not just her long legs in those tight
handmade jeans. Or her halfway buttoned shirt – I think that’s what
you call a blouse, right? – which casually showed off her big rack.
Or her long brown hair that seemed to shine even if there isn’t any
light. No, it was her eyes. Her brown eyes that could just look at
you and make you feel like you were somebody, like you were worthy
of her attention. She was no doubt the most beautiful girl in Great
Falls. I guess that’s not saying all that much, given our
population, but at the time I bet if I traveled throughout what
used to be called Montana, throughout the Great Plains, to all the
settlements, I’d never see a girl more beautiful. Looking back now,
of course I can vouch for that.

“Guess she’s no longer with Boze,” Pace said,
again not necessarily directed at me. But he made a good point, I
thought Becca was still with that guy. Boze is a few years older,
and the closest thing to a lawman we had in Great Falls. He was
supposed to keep the peace, whatever that means. Seems like we had
the same number of brawls with him or without him “keeping the
peace.” Anyway, I was sure they were gonna get married. That would
have been tragic.

Next thing I knew Pace slid his whole bottle
of good whiskey my way. “Might as well drink it,” he told me. “I’m
now otherwise engaged.”

Then he just got up and walked right over to
Becca. I coulda easily thought he was giving me his whiskey to keep
me preoccupied and out of his way, but I knew it wasn’t like that.
No one knew how I felt about Becca. I sniffed the open bottle. Sure
smelled good. I thought about drinking it to take my mind off of
him talking to Becca. She wouldn’t be interested in him anyway.
She’d see right through his charms. But I glanced over and it sure
looked like I was wrong. Pace had forged a pathway through her cute
girlfriends. Cute girls seem to like hanging out together. Unlike
guys. It’s usually one decent-looking guy surrounded by a bunch of
ugly guys. Man, that must be rough for girls to deal with, when the
decent-looking one gets spoken for and they have to fight over
meager scraps.

Becca didn’t seem too resistant to his
advances. She was leaning against the pool table, sipping at her
drink, tilting her head back a little to laugh at his jokes. I
grabbed hold of Pace’s fancy bottle of whiskey and held it under my
chin. Why shouldn’t she go with Pace? He’s rich. He’ll give her a
better life than stupid Boze ever would. Or me for that matter.
There was no need to be jealous. I had nothing better to offer. I
would want her to be happy.

I took a quick look over my shoulder again.
Pace’s hand was on her leg. He was movin’ fast. I took a good whiff
of that expensive whiskey. It was getting more tempting by the
second.

Then through the back of my head I could
kinda sense movement. It was Becca, with Pace, and they were
heading for the door. I turned my head just in time to see her eyes
burning into mine. She seemed, I dunno, kinda sad as she let Pace
loop his arm around hers. She kept staring at me – and I really
couldn’t stand it – until she walked out through the saloon door. I
looked down at Pace’s whiskey, picked it up and took a huge swig
right out of the bottle. Boy that expensive stuff is good.

Fair enough. Pace got the girl, I got the
good whiskey. That’s all I needed, all I wanted, right?

But why did it have to be Pace? I just knew
his motivations weren’t pure. Boze, sure, he was an idiot, but at
least I always kinda figured he had honorable intentions. He’d
marry Becca, do his best to give her a life. But not Pace. He’d
have his way tonight, maybe a few more nights, and then on to the
next conquest.

I took another long swig of good whiskey. I
knew what emotions were churning around inside. I needed some help
to stay put, hoping it would cement my body down on the barstool.
But I couldn’t help myself.

Next thing I knew I hoisted my body out the
saloon doors. Pace was a few yards away, walking Becca toward his
house. I hurled myself at him and gave him a good shove.

“Asher?” Becca cried out with surprise.
Hearing her say my name is a little magical, I have to say. She’s
the only one who calls me by my full name. Well, my mother did too.
Everyone else just calls me Ash. Seems to suit me I suppose. Ash is
what’s left after something burns down. That’s me.

Pace took a defensive posture might quick, I
must say. He held his hands up like it was an old-fashioned
stick-up, and he was backing away from me faster than I was
approaching.

“Say Ash,” Pace said, trying to paste a smile
over his fear, “what seems to be the trouble?”

“Yes Asher,” Becca interjected, moving her
body in between me and Pace. “What exactly is the trouble?”

“Sorry Becca,” I responded, trying to calm
myself down but I really wanted to beat the shit out of Pace. “Just
don’t much like seeing you leave with Pace is all.”

With Becca in between us, Pace seemed to feel
more confident again, maybe thinking she wouldn’t let me beat the
shit out of him. “Do you prefer to be called ‘Becca’?” he asked
her.

“You can call me
Rebecca
,” she replied
pointedly. It felt good to know she was keeping one thing special
just for me. Made sense, after all our history. That was history I
cared about, actually. “Okay
Rebecca
,” he laughed. “We were
just leaving. So Ash, if you’ll excuse us…”

“Nope,” I muttered.

“The lady can walk with whoever she likes,”
Pace responded with confidence.

I reached past Becca and grabbed Pace by his
fancy collar. “This is something I can’t abide,” I said. No idea
where those words came from. Pace started flinching like I was
gonna hit him. Maybe it was my balled up fist in my other hand.

“Now Ash,” he pleaded, “not the face, okay?
It’s my best asset.”

All the better a target for smashing, I
thought. But before I could take a swing at him, I felt Becca’s
hands enveloping my fist. It’d been years since I’d felt her touch.
Most of my rage fell away right then and there. I looked into her
eyes. She looked stern. Kind of like how I remember my mother
looking at me sometimes.

“Asher, I appreciate your trying to protect
me,” she said with powerful calm, “but I do not need protecting. Do
you understand me?”

“Sorry Becca,” I said. “I got no right.”

As I backed down, I saw Becca get
increasingly pleased. “I didn’t know you still thought you might,”
she said.

Pace didn’t seem to like her warming up to me
a little, so he got his confidence back and stepped in front of
Becca again and got in my face. “Ash, what say we call this a night
and I’ll just walk Rebecca home.”

“What say I smash your face?” I
responded.

Becca’s hands were over my fist again. Guess
I should threaten physical violence more often.

“I know you’re strong,” Becca told me. “If
strong was all that’s important you’d be running this settlement.
You want to make an impression on me, you do it without
violence.”

Her words sedated me. Both she and Pace just
kinda stared at me for a minute, waiting to see if there was
anything I could do without punching someone. I admit, I had
nothin’. Didn’t have the words, didn’t have the actions. I just
felt kinda embarrassed that I had done what I did.

“He impresses you?” I asked.

“He’s exciting,” she responded. “And in this
town, what else is there?”

“I
am
exciting,” Pace added. Smug
mother-effer.

But then it hit me.