POWER BACK

Chapter 49: Sin

Chapter 49: Sin

April

I'm not going back to the hospital. I can't. Not like this. I'm unpredictable, unstable, unhinged. I shouldn't be around anyone right now, especially not Bree. I screech out of the church parking lot and drive toward the lake. My mind is in complete chaos. It's like I'm just realizing that all this time my soul has been nothing more than a sandcastle on a beach. One powerful wave has leveled me.

It's all an illusion. Everything's an illusion. Nothing means anything. Nothing.

There is no truth.

No love.

No good.

Only lies. Only fucking lies.

I've fallen from the very great height I had all those recurring nightmares about. Now the pieces of the person who used to be me scatter into the wind like fine grains of sand, lost forever.

It feels like I'm being punished for someone else's sin.

Does she really think I'm this fucking stupid?

Clearly, I am this fucking stupid.

I get what I deserve. For my stupidity.

I pull into the gas station, hoping that Liza will sell me something to take away the pain.

If she doesn't, I'm just gonna straight-up rob the store. I finally give zero fucks, just like my brother Joe, the bad seed.

"You're back, huh?" She's glances at me over her shoulder as she restocks the cigarettes behind the counter. She gets a good look at my face and stops smiling. "You okay?"

"No." I stuff my hands in my pockets. "What's the strongest drink you sell?"

"Gotta be Buzzballz," she says. "Seventeen percent is the highest Texas law allows in gas stations, and the liquor stores are closed on Sundays." She walks over to the rows of beer and wine in the refrigerator and points to various brightly colored orbs.

"Looks like Pooh's honeypot," I say.

She puts her arm up, placing a palm flat down the refrigerator door and leans against it with one leg crossed over the other. "Tastes like it too. But Sinner's Apple Fire ain't bad."

I try to grab twelve of them, but it's kind of like trying to hold an entire set of billiard balls, and they start slipping out of my grasp.

"Lemme get you something," she says.

As she's helping me put them in the bag, she says, "listen, these are small, but mighty. Probably don't wanna drink them all at once."

I glare at her.

"Okay, well, you're a big guy. I'm sure you can handle it."

As she's ringing me up, I ask her, "you wanna go to the lake with me?"

She tilts her head and sizes me up. "You know, I'd actually love to. But I kinda need this job, and if I leave on Easter Sunday when all the other stores are closed, Earl would definitely fire my ass."

I nod. It's probably for the best. I cannot be trusted right now.

If I go to the dock, I'll ruin all the good memories I've made there over the years. Instead, I head to Lake View Point. When I pull up, dozens of kids run on the grass hunting for Easter eggs. I watch as a tiny boy teeters on two feet, stops, and squats down to pick up an egg. He turns to his dad to show him the find. His dad claps and points to the basket, then he takes the boy's hand, and they go in search of another.