The Light on the Horizon

6

Dad isn't here. And Mom isn't here. And Cole isn't here. And pretty soon, I was sure Lewis wouldn't be here, either. And then I'll be completely alone.

The leaves were still blowing across the back yard and over Cole's toys. 

It's still sunny outside.

The door to Dad's study is standing open.

It's never open. Dad keeps it locked all the time and nobody's allowed to go in there without his permission. Not even Mom.

I started to get scared. Maybe he had come back after all. And we just hadn't noticed? And he'd kill me if he knew what we'd been doing while he was gone. I'm the oldest. I'm supposed to be in charge. 

I pushed the door open all the way so I could see in, but I didn't go in. I was too worried. 

Everything looked normal. Like it always looks. Just Dad's study. 

But I knew that wasn't really everything.

I knew what else Dad kept in here, because I saw him with it once when he hadn't closed the door completely and thought nobody was around. 

It was in the bottom drawer of his desk.

Lewis was standing in the hallway behind me.

"Cole was right," he said, with the most serious look on his face I've ever seen.

"What is it now?"

"I heard the voices. They were here. Just a minute ago. In Dad's study."

"I was just in Dad's study. There wasn't anybody there."

Lewis just stared at me, white as a sheet.

"Well? What did they say?"

But he didn't answer. He just went up to his room and shut the door.

I can't even remember walking across the room. It was as if I was just there.

I don't know why I tugged at the bottom drawer of the desk. I guess I expected it to be locked. It slid right open. 

And it was empty. 

Dad must have taken his revolver with him when he left.

And suddenly, I had the worse headache.

And now I'm alone.

Last night... I think it was last night, it's getting hard to remember... I watched Lewis climb over the fence and disappear into the light glowing on the other side, his shadow trailing behind him in a long, thin line.

This time, he didn't hesitate. He didn't go back and forth.  I wanted to stop him, but I knew I couldn't stop him. Just like I couldn't have stopped Cole. 

And just like Cole, he forgot to say goodbye.

Now I'm free.

I can do whatever I want.

There's nobody here to stop me or ask me questions. Nobody I have to watch out for, nobody to take care of.

I'm free of everything and everybody.

No parents.
No school.
No little brothers.
Nothing.

Tomorrow, I'm going to repaint my skateboard. And then I might cut some branches and roast marshmallows over a fire in the backyard.

And then I might go fishing again. Or see if I can steal another magazine from the quickie-mart.

I can do anything I want. For the rest of my life.

As long as I don't forget to ignore that light on the horizon.