Holding My Breath [Wattys 2016]

6 3 ~ R u s t y

                 

Present Day ~ July 11, 2011

The sun is still barely visible behind the stampede of clouds above us. I walk next to Blue, glancing over my shoulder every couple minutes, but keeping my eyes mainly on the gravel road I kick with my boots.

"The quarry." I hear him say and turn to face him. We keep walking as we reach the bend in the path.

"What?" I ask, looking at his face. But he isn't looking back at me, for once. He's smiling at something in the distance. I follow his gaze.

Just around the road's curve, there is a dead end. The dead end isn't the best way to describe it, though, because this place could never seem more alive. Before us stands an enormous hole in the ground, filled with water so crystal clear that I wonder for a moment if it is real. I notice the golden glow of the sun setting along the bank, the cliff on the other side of the quarry dangerously far up above the water.

There's really no one word to describe it. The light bounces off of the water like shards of glass, a perfect view of the mountains rolling behind it all. The huge drop off on the other side is at least a hundred or two hundred feet above our heads, and the entire hole stretches forever.

"Woah," I breathe, catching myself before I walk too close to it. My eyes scan the pine evergreens framing the quarry like they were placed there for show.

"It's amazing," he says, taking a few steps toward the water. The gravel road dips down into the water like a beach, traveling only so far before the drop, with the water barely coming over the edge. I grin, coming a little closer too.

"How deep do you think it is?" I ask, glancing at him for a second, but inevitably turning back to look at the water. It is just so... clear. How can water be like that?

"Not sure," Blue muses, looking out at the quarry. "My dad says there have been cars that have gone over the cliff and have never been found because it's so deep."

I take a step back, that choking feeling coming back to me. In my head, I see it all again, a rush of pictures and sounds and feelings that all hit me at once. My knees almost buckle, and I grab onto his arm for support.

He turns to face me, trying to catch my eye. "Rusty?"

"Um, sorry. I just got a little dizzy."

I sit down on the ground at the edge and Blue follows. I focus on the sharp gravel digging deeply into my legs. I try to say something but stop. I can't talk right now. It's too soon.

"I'm sorry," I finally say again, not looking at him.

"Don't apologize. I get it."

Now I glance back at him. "What do you mean?"

He hesitates and I can see the conflict in his eyes. He wants to say something, but he can't seem to find the words. "Your mom?" I ask, biting my lip. Bailey warned me not to bring it up.

"Yeah..." He clears his throat. "When something reminds me of when she... died..." he pauses again, then puts on that smile, even if it's a sad smile. A fake one. "I flash back to it. Whatever you went through, well..."

"Yeah," I mumble. "It keeps coming back."

"Was it..." he stops himself. I know he doesn't want to pry, but I kind of deserve to give him at least a few small answers.

I can't keep him completely in the dark anymore... But at the same time, I can't give away too much.

"Go ahead," I say softly, still looking out at the water.

He sits back, leaning on his hands. "Was it the same thing as this morning?"

"Yeah." I measure my words carefully. "Sometimes I dream about it."

All the time.

"That's why you weren't sleeping?" I nod, just slightly. I don't think I can bare actually talking about it anymore. I don't want to. "What... What was it?" he wonders, his voice just a whisper. Everything around us is silent.

I just shake my head.

A moment passes and he stands up, takes my hand, and pulls me up beside him. "This is why I brought you here."

"Why?" I ask as he leads me towards the edge of the quarry, my boots just out of the water's reach.

He steps back from me for a moment, and says, "Scream, Rusty."

"What?" I laugh.

"Scream," He points out at the water. "Get it all out. I know you need to."

"Blue, I'm not going to scream." He's right, I know, but it still sounds ridiculous.

"Then play," he says, handing me the guitar. I didn't even notice him pulling it out of the case. That's why he brought it. "There are great acoustics here."

I take the instrument, stepping back once before sitting back down at the bank. Blue sits next to me, and I tune a few of the chords. I glance sideways at him. "This is better than screaming."

"I figured."