Descending Star

PRESSURE

Charlie watched Ben crank through pull-ups on arms that had been encased in fiberglass three months ago. Ben limited himself to sets of twenty-five. He took rests and stretched between each set, but he was handling it. He had worked himself manically all summer. One week remained of August, and then he would return to Forks Public, for senior year. Ben had a lot to celebrate, but Charlie knew that the kid didn't see it that way, at all. He had been a wreck, under constant pressure, ever since Phoenix.

Well, Charlie reflected, that wasn't quite true. Despite having been broken on a gurney, and fresh off a coma, with most of the long bones in his body shattered, he had been in better spirits than at any time since Yosemite. Ever since that crazy rock climber's birthday, he had been wandering listlessly through a fog.

He waited for Ben to drop off the bar and pick up a towel. Then he took the plunge, with the full expectation of a rebuff. "Kid. We have to talk about the other day."

Ben didn't lose his temper. He groaned and said with a deep exhale, "Right. Listen, Dad. Springing Zoey on you for dinner– that wasn't right. I don't blame you for any of that. I haven't talked to her since then, but I doubt she blames you, either."

Charlie frowned and muttered, "Uh, thanks. Ben, that was more than a week ago. I'm talking about the other day. That long jog you took."

"Oh, yeah. Bit off too much of that one." Ben wiped his face with the towel and conveniently had his eyes covered, when he said, "Took me all day and then some."

Charlie looked at him strangely. "And then some? You were out all night. You didn't get back until the following morning."

Ben said "Yeah. Well I ran too far. And it was kind of a loop. By the time I realized I'd gone too far, it was too late. So I took it easy coming back. I guess I lost track of time."

Charlie asked, "Well how long was this loop?"

"It was like eleven or twelve miles each way."

"What? So, twenty-four miles? What did you do? Try to run to La Push?"

"Not quite. Anyway, I took a few naps. You know. I mean, it was nighttime."

Charlie chewed on that silently. Something didn't add up. He napped? Surely not out in the open, without some kind of shelter. How did the kid not get eaten alive by bugs? He said, "Ben, it's summer, and you're nearly eighteen. Listen. If you shacked up with a girl or something, you can tell me."

"No, Dad, no. Nothing like that, I swear."

"We're all men in this house, kid. Just be honest about it. That's all I ask."

"Dad, no. It wasn't like that."

"So you really didn't meet up with your rock climber again? You on the level?"

"Dad. I just said I haven't talked to her since that disaster of a dinner date."

"Yeah, kid, but I figured you were lying about that."

Ben groaned and put his head between his knees. He felt lightheaded. He had done too many pull-ups. Now his shoulders hurt, and he felt short of breath. Everything was about extremes these days.

"Look kid, I know you're in no mood for the third degree, but something doesn't pass the sniff test."

Ben picked himself up and transferred himself to the free-weight bench. He tried to sit there and promptly fell back onto the bench. He stared up at the ceiling light.

Charlie watched him and calmly explained, "Before I was a career cop in this town, I grew up here. I know the roads cold. There are no twelve mile loops. And you were somehow out all night. You don't want to tell me, fine. But I kind of thought we had a good rapport. I thought we could jawbone about stuff."