POWER BACK

Chapter 50: Monsters

Chapter 50: Monsters 

May

Well, it's official. I'm a high school graduate. I walked across the stage last night and accepted my diploma. And the whole time I was up there, I heard the whispers, saw them point, and imagined they were laughing at the dumbass who was a blind fool, so stupid that he almost married a girl he didn't love to raise a child that wasn't his.

It's so humiliating. As if I didn't feel dumb enough already.

So, I've been laying low, only going to school when absolutely necessary, avoiding my friends and family, teachers and coaches. I used to look forward to talking to people, but now, everywhere I look, I only see monsters who've come to feed on me. They eat up the scandal and gossip as if my pain is their delicacy.

The night I left Bree at the hospital, I came back to the ranch and went straight to the cabin that was supposed to be Colt's home. I picked up the sledgehammer and channeled all of my rage and hatred into demolishing the rest of that space. I kept it up until sunrise, got it all nearly done too. And the next morning, when I opened the door to the cabin, Homie was sleeping on the front porch. I let him in, sat down to pet him, and he climbed into my lap. I fell asleep with him lying on top of me. And that's where I've been ever since, sleeping amongst the dust and rubble.

"Dust and Rubble," by the way, should be the title of my autobiography.

When the contractor came in with his crew a few days later, Homie and I refused to leave. So, he put me to work, which was just fine with me. I've learned all kinds of useful skills—plumbing, drywall, electrical, how to install tile, wood floors, and countertops. The place is coming along now. Today I'm going to finish buffing the floors, which are six-inch white pine planks and stained a light gray, so they look a bit like driftwood. For the counters, we used a white soapstone. The bathroom is almost finished, which means I won't have to go to the main house as much. Ma and Dad keep trying to get me over there so we can "talk," but I'm not really up to it, to be honest. They'll want to know about my future plans and other bullshit I don't feel like thinking about. I just want to stay busy and shut out the rest of the world.

Homie watches from across the room as I move the machine in long straight lines. The last corner of the room is all that's left, so I power down the buffer machine. When I turn around, I nearly jump out of my own skin.

Joe is sitting on top of the newly installed counter. Homie sits beneath his feet.

"Jesus, Joe. What the hell you doing here?"

He grins. "I knocked, but you was making so much racket with that damn thing you didn't hear. So I let myself in."

"No, I mean...why are you here? At the ranch?"

He shrugs. "Just thought I'd stop by and check in."

I narrow my eyes. "Ma call you or something?"

"Nope," he says, hopping down. He squats and scratches the dog behind the ears.

"Jesse then?"

"Naw, son." He looks around the place, trailing his finger along the tile backsplash.

"I'm not in the mood to fuck around, Joe. What's going on?"

He looks up at the exposed wooden rafters. "Dad's worried about you."

"And he called you?"

"That's how I knew it must be serious."

"Fucking ridiculous. Why can't everyone just leave me be?"