House on Fire
Chapter 31
The summer we were fourteen, Dad sent us both to the ranch as soon as we got out of school. It took me a while to build up the calluses on my butt again. There was a familiarity, though, with the physical pain, the thin air, and the rhythm of the work. I was at ease and confident around the horses and they responded to that. James seemed to have aged a lot in the year I was gone, and I took over some of his duties.
Dad didn’t call us as often as he had Jessie the previous year, and when he did he sounded tired. He explained that he’d been sick for a while and that it really drained his energy.
Sometimes Daniel and I would take a ride together and I could tell him out loud how I really felt about Jessie. I told him about the fight on the beach.
“That musta tore ya up good.”
“I keep hoping that it’ll get better, that it will hurt less tomorrow. But it’s been months and it never does.”
“Some pain you just gotta bear. How long’d it take your burns ta stop hurtin’?”
“Three or four months. Why?”
“I’m guessin’ this hurts a lot more.”
“Yeah.”
“Then it’s gunna take longer.”
“Geez, I hope not. Has she said anything to you?”
“No, but she confides in Maw. She’s tore up, too, course. She put herself all on the line and you rejected her. She’s hurt and angry to the bone.”
“God, Daniel, I feel like shit.”
“Ya did what you had to. That’s what a man does sometimes; he makes sacrifices for the ones he loves. No good could come of it. You know that’s the truth.”
It was a huge relief to have someone I could talk to, though I’m sure he got real tired of the topic. When August came and it was time to go home, I knew I’d miss that outlet desperately.
“I’m just a phone call away, kid, whenever you need an ear.”
The week before we started high school, we were eligible to take our initial driver training class, and get our Level One licenses. It meant we could drive with Dad in the passenger seat. He was so good about it – I’d have gone nuts.
All that fall and into the winter, Jessie drove while I did homework in the back seat, then we’d switch. Just sitting that close to her gave me goose bumps and made my heart beat faster. Even with so much time spent together, she only spoke to me when she absolutely had to.
Jess was a natural. She handled the big truck with the same ease and self-assurance that she showed in the saddle.
We felt so grown up, and our friends were jealous. We logged hundreds of miles driving on everything from M35 and US2 to the gravel back-roads. Dad made sure we drove in rain, sleet, and high winds. He got us up early when the roads were icy or snowy, just so we could practice before the plows came out. There were some close calls. We learned to watch for deer, and judge whether to brake or plow ahead. They’re unpredictable, and it wasn’t a good idea to swerve.
Through it all, Dad was calm and reassuring, reminding us to check our mirrors and anticipate problems. The hardest part for me was passing on US2, a winding two-lane highway. If I got stuck behind a motorhome or log truck, I had to pull out into the oncoming lane and floor it. There were a lot of unmarked side roads and driveways; a lot to look out for. I pictured a head-on collision at fifty-five...
“Okay Cory, it’s safe,” Dad said one time. “Go ahead.”
I hesitated.
“It’s clear, Son, go now.”
“Dad? Stop it – I’m the driver. I don’t want to pass here.” Dad was quiet for a bit. I hadn’t meant to be disrespectful.
“Good call, Son,” he sighed, “And I apologize. Don’t ever let someone else pressure you into taking risks.”
I thought I’d made him nervous – that was the first time I noticed his hand tremble.
I buried myself in schoolwork, just to keep my mind on something. I tested out of Algebra nine and went right into the sophomore class. I also took accelerated English, which I liked. For our fifteenth birthday, each of us got our own key to the truck. It was mostly symbolic, of course, but very cool anyway.
In March, Sis and I took our second driving class, and both passed with no problem. Unfortunately, we were still stuck on level one until we turned sixteen, and then passed the written and road tests.
When school let out for spring break, Dad had us drive down to Chicago, just to experience real interstate freeways and city traffic. We drove six hours a day for three days in a row, plus a couple trips out at night. It was nerve-wracking, as much for the person in back as for the driver. All the signs, speeders, merges, construction, detours, traffic.... By the time we headed home, we were exhausted and humbled.
“Dad,” I asked, “Why’re you so insistent on our driving skills, I mean, more than other parents?”
“Soon you’ll have to drive without me, and it’s the most dangerous thing that teens are allowed to do. More generally, it’s the same reason I have you guys pay the bills and help run the house. Being an adult might seem far away to you now, but it might happen faster than you expect. I want you to be independent and ready for life when it’s time to be on your own.”
In school, the strategy of distracting myself with a heavy course load was still working pretty well. It was harder to fall asleep in class when it was challenging. So when it was time to plan my sophomore year, I took on the toughest schedule I could.
Back at home, Jess did stuff that almost seemed to deliberately start a fight. She might leave the door open a crack when she changed clothes or showered. She caught me watching once. If looks could kill I’d have been dead, my eyes burned out by laser beams. She slammed the door and started screaming at the top of her lungs about respecting her privacy.
Spaz assured me that that was kind of normal; his sisters were the same way. They’d tease him all the time and then call him a little perv. I sensed it was more serious with Jessie, though.