Roads by Sheryl
Sandra Elliott hung up the phone, glancing
uneasily into the kitchen, where the two boys sat. She felt slightly guilty, having called
their folks, almost as if she were tattling. Odd feeling. Sighing, she joined them at the
table. "Boys, I called your dad, he's on his way over to get you." Taylor looked
up into her eyes, his stare unnerving. "Did you go see if Jay was here?" She
nodded. "Yes, and you were right. He's gone. I asked Dave, he said he saw them
sneaking away, after supper. So we know they're together. He's getting dressed now, he's
going to hike out to the clearing, to see if they're out there." Taylor took a shaky
breath, then, and she saw relief on his face. "He's not alone. Thank God, he's not
alone. But they're in trouble, you have to believe me, they're in serious trouble."
She nodded. She did believe him. As soon as she'd opened her kitchen door to them, she'd
known something was very wrong. Something dark and brooding had settled into her heart,
something that told her that one of her children was in danger, and alone. Sighing again,
she tapped on the table, frustrated. How had it come to be, that her 12 year old son, and
his 12 year old friend, were God knew where, in the middle of the night? She suspected she
knew. Her own closed mindedness. Her own fears and insecurities. If she'd only swallowed
her fear, ignored the gossip, and just let the boys be together. They'd have felt no need
to sneak away, if she'd simply given permission. "Boys, this is my fault. I'm the one
that told them they couldn't do this. If I'd been a little less dense, they'd be right out
back." Taylor shook his head, a bitter smile on his lips. "How were you dense?
You were right, I wouldn't want my kid around me, either..." His bitter tone tore at
her heart, as she took another long look at him.
Drawn and pale, eyes smudged with black circles visible even in the dim light. The sparkle
and gleam in those eyes, gone, replaced by dull dread. "Oh, dear God, the poor
kid..." The words flitted through her mind, as her eyes took him in... Too thin. Too
limp. Beaten and defeated, he had the air of someone who'd fought long and hard, and in
the end won only by default. She didn't know what had happened to him, what had made him
do the things she'd heard he'd done, but he was still just Taylor, the same Taylor who'd
spent hours and days parked in her kitchen, planning to take over the world with her sons.
A boy she knew as well as she knew her own children. There had never been any malice in
Taylor, never any dishonesty, and she could see that there was none now. Whatever had
happened to him, out there in that crazy world he'd fallen into, it was support he needed,
not condemnation. He'd been hurt, badly hurt, it was in his eyes. Fear for him, she felt
in abundance. Fear of him disappeared as rapidly as mist on a hot day.
Before she could stop herself, she'd leaned forward, pulling first Isaac into a quick embrace, then gently taking hold of Taylor. He tensed, for just a moment, eyes fearful, but a second later let himself be pulled into her hug, resting his head for just a second on her shoulder. Something in him, something that had been wound painfully tight, loosened a notch then, and he felt himself beginning to breath easier. There was nothing to fear here. Gently, Sandra pushed him away from her, one hand under his chin, making him look into her eyes. "Taylor, I've known you since the day you were born. You grew up with my kids, you and Davie have been together as long as you've been alive. Of all of the people in this town, I should have known enough to avoid making a judgement about you." Isaac shook his head. "You can't help what you hear. It sounds pretty horrifying." She released Taylor's face, then, pleased to note that he didn't drop his eyes, but continued to make contact. "It is, Ike, but it's also about one of our own, and I think that there are a lot of us who need to wake up. You, your family, you're part of all of us, and we've always taken care of our own. When all of this happened, we should have pulled in to help, not backed away and locked our doors." Taylor swallowed hard, absurdly close to tears, and looked down, rubbing furiously at his eyes. He was finding anger much easier to deal with, lately, than understanding. He looked up at her again, gaze direct. "Why did you then? Why did everyone just slam their doors in our faces? And why Zac? He didn't do anything..." She nodded. "I don't know, Tay. I guess, the stories we were hearing, coupled with you all being gone, out on the road, in the Music Business, the whole rock band thing, I guess we all thought it was inevitable that you'd go bad. After all, you left us." She smiled gently, chiding herself for her jealousy. "So when all this happened, when we heard about you, well, I guess we all just leaped to conclusions. And the fact that none of us can even get near you, now, doesn't help." He sighed, unable to think of anything to say that would mean anything. The sigh became a cough, that rapidly escalated into a racking attack. Shoving his chair out, he stumbled to the back door, and let himself out onto the back porch. Scowling, Isaac followed, watching his brother gagging and spitting over the railing. He looked down at Sandra, as she came to stand beside him, her face concerned. She glanced a question at him, and he shrugged. He had no idea what was wrong with Taylor, but he knew it wasn't what it seemed. Taylor thought it was Zac. Crazy as that was, Ike very nearly understood that. He felt some of it too. He snapped back from what was quickly becoming a daydream, in time to see Sandra step to Taylor, behind him, and reach out to touch his shoulder. Tensing, knowing what was coming, reflex took over, and he shouted out his brother's name.
Taylor gasped in air, gratefully. The
attack had lasted so long he'd been afraid he'd never catch his breath again. As his
breathing began to slow, and his stomach to settle to the point where he was sure he
wasn't going to be sick, he leaned, limp and exhausted against the rail. His mind had
drifted outward a little, when the touch came on his arm. Panic moved in instantly, and he
jumped back, the sound from his throat animal and threatened, as his fist came up and out.
"Taylor!!!".
His brother's shout brought him up short,
and his fist dropped, as he saw what he'd been about to do. Eyes huge, he stared at
Sandra, face draining of color. "Oh, no, oh I'm sorry..." His eyes filled up,
then, and he started to shake, knowing what it must have seemed. Isaac stepped in close to
him, slipping an arm around him. "I'm sorry, he's just jumpy... you can't really make
any sudden moves at him. We should have told you. I'm really sorry... we better
go..." She shook her head. "No, no it's alright. You both come back inside.
You're not walking anywhere at this hour, your dad's on his way. I should have known
better than to sneak up behind him and scare him half to death." She smiled softly,
taking Taylor's hand. "Come on back in. It's okay. No harm done." He looked at
her, fear and guilt fading to something like relief, and moved ahead of her, back into the
house, stopping suddenly, face to face with a tall, gangly, dark haired boy, with an
expression vacillating between concern, and glee. David. Breaking into a grin in spite of
himself, Taylor suddenly found himself in an embrace. Laughing, fruitlessly struggling to
get free, he managed to choke out "David, cut it out! I can't breathe!" Also
laughing, the other boy let him go, grinning hugely. "God, you look gross, do you
know that? I'm so glad to see you..." Taylor shrugged, "I know. I missed you
too. Things went kinda nuts, though..." He sighed then, happiness over seeing his
friend dimmed somewhat by circumstance. Dave nodded. "I know. You can tell
me..." His expression said what he really meant, "You are GOING to tell me...
All about it when I get back from the great Zac and Jay hunt. You want to come out with
us, see if we can find those two?" Isaac stepped in, then. "Tay, would you mind
too much, staying here? I... it just makes me..." Taylor waved him off. "I'm too
tired to hike out there now, anyway. You guys go. But hurry. And they're not there
anyway." The other two exchanged glances, as they let themselves out, heading into
the woods.
Taylor lay, dozing, on the living room couch, as the voices from the kitchen drifted in on
him. Just a wash of sound, that didn't make much sense. They wanted to go find Zac. He
hadn't been out in the back woods. Good. Go find him. Someone go find him. Someone else
saying it was silly. Zac would be home by morning, the boys were fine, they shouldn't have
gone without permission, but that didn't mean anything was wrong. Was that his mother?
When had she arrived? No. Go find him. He's not okay. Too sleepy to make his thoughts
heard, he smiled faintly as he felt a light blanket thrown over him. Nice. Nice people
here. David. So good to see him, why hadn't he seen him before now? His thoughts drifted
on, and the scent of growing things came to him again. Slowly, easily, sleep took over,
and he slipped into dreams.
Light, pale and cold, washed over his face, breaking the light sleep he'd finally
achieved. Opening gritty eyes, wincing as the light stabbed into them, he glanced around.
Still in the woods. At least it was light. Cold though. Shivering lightly, he tugged on
the edge of the sleeping bag, trapped under Jason's sleeping form. Scowling, he pulled a
little harder, getting no results at all. Weak, he fell back, too tired to continue. It
was just as well, he had to get up anyway. He sat up, head and neck screaming, and slowly
made his way up to his knees. His shivering became sweating, as things began to spin, and
nausea began to back up in his throat. Realizing that there was no way he was getting up
on his own, he lay back down, knowing he'd have to wake his friend, to help him.
Swallowing gingerly around the pain in his throat, he gently nudged Jason.
"Hey..." His voice was barely there, and though it hurt, he tried to speak
louder. "Jay, wake up..." His clogged throat closed, starting him coughing, pain
flooding his throat, chest, and head. Struggling to sit up again, hoping he'd be able to
breathe better, feeling the nausea wash over him again. "Jay..." He choked out
the words. "Jay, help me!" Jay slept on, exhaustion having taken him down far
too deeply to hear anything. Zac struggled out of the sleeping bag, sliding out, rather
than trying to get up, still hacking painfully, knowing that it was a matter of seconds
before the coughing made him sick. He managed to crawl a few feet away, before the nausea
flooded him, and vomiting started again. Too much pain now, he collapsed onto his side,
still retching. "God..." The prayer in his mind held no drama, only sincere wish
"Don't do this, just kill me now..." Beside him, Jason slept on, oblivious.
"Jay, you have to get him home. He's really sick, it's not just the flu, you have to
get him out of there." Jason stared at the ground, feeling guilty. He knew. He looked
up at Taylor, who sat next to him, scowling. "I don't know where we are, though, Tay.
We could just follow the tracks back, but he'll never make it." "Then get on up
to the road, and flag somebody down. Go find a phone and call someone. But you can't just
sit there." "I don't want to leave him alone, though. What if he dies?"
Taylor sighed. "Jay, he just might, if you don't do something." He glanced
behind him, maybe seeing something in the darkness that Jason couldn't. "Which way
was the train headed, Jay? When you jumped it?" "West, out of town." Taylor
nodded, still gazing behind him in the darkness. "You better wake up now. I know
you're tired, but..." He gestured behind him, raised his eyebrows at Jason, and tried
to smile. "People are coming, but... don't just sit there, Jay. Don't let him
go." Jason looked down, hoping he'd be able to do what he'd been asked. When he
looked up again, Taylor was gone, darkness was gone, and Zac was on the ground, gasping
for air.
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