Chapter Thirty-Five

Hank

Now

“Get up. Get up. It’s late. And snowing. Get up . ” I’m tired. I’m just gonna close my eyes for a while. Just a little. I’m so tired.

“What are you doing?” I think I’m just gonna stay here. It’s nice here. Soft.

“What? Like a fallen tree? You’re just gonna lie here like a fallen tree?” Yeah, just for a little while.

“You can’t. Get up. It’s time to get up. You’re gonna freeze to death out here. It’s not your time yet. Not yet. Get up.” Yeah, I don’t think I got it in me, Eugene. Not anymore. The years seem to be catchin’ up with me.

“That’s not true. You’ve got plenty of miles left in you. He doesn’t think so either.” He? “Yes. He.” It just… it just hurts to keep going.

“It’s going to hurt lying down, too. After a while. It’s going to hurt a lot more if you stay here. Get up!” Sweetheart… “Get up, Hank.” I can’t.

“You can and you will .” Since when did you get so bossy? “Oh, my love, I was always bossy.” Yeah, that’s not how I remember it. “Maybe your memory isn’t as good as you think. Now, get up. I won’t ask again.” I can’t. Not without you, sweetheart. “Of course you can. You’re the strongest man I know. Besides, I’m not gone. Not really. I’ll always be here.” You are gone. “No, I’m not, my love.” It feels like you are. I haven’t felt you in a while now.

“I’m still here. Look closer. Listen. I’m everywhere. In the Northern wind whispering in the trees. In the call of the doves. On the surface of the creek, when the sun hits it just right. I’m there.” I don’t know… I think I just wanna go where you are. Why can’t I go where you are?

“Now, what’s this nonsense? I haven’t heard you talk like this in a while.” It ain’t nonsense. I wanna go. “Not yet… Not yet, my love.” Why not? Why not, Eugene? “Because he needs you.” What do you mean? He? “You’ll see.” I don’t understand… Eugene, please, don’t go yet. Not yet. Don’t leave me here. Alone. “You know I can’t do that. Besides, he needs you more than I do.” He? Who’s he ? What do you mean? “You’ll see. Just open your eyes, my love. You’ll see.”

He woke with a gasp, the red digits on the alarm showing 2:34 a.m. The room was dark and quiet, and at first, he had difficulty remembering where he was. The sheets were soaked from his sweat, his hair damp, sticking to his forehead, and yet he was cold. Freezing, actually, his teeth clattering against each other, goosebumps scattered across his clammy skin. When he swallowed, his throat ached as if he’d been screaming, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t.

It was the same dream that he’d dreamed repeatedly the months after Eugene had died. When he himself wanted to die and just walk out into the woods, lie down, and let the leaves cover him and the forest bed swallow him up. Let the wild beasts make a final meal out of him, his body no longer his, just an empty shell. It was no longer of any use to him, anyway. It had lost all purpose after Eugene had gone. Because what was he if not Eugene’s lover? If not Eugene’s friend and partner? What were his hands, if not Eugene’s to hold? Or his arms if not there for the sole purpose of embracing Eugene? And his lips without Eugene kissing them? What were they but useless? Nothing but skin and bones and sorrow, right? That’s all that was left of him.

And it was always the same. He was lying in the woods, the ground frozen solid, the snow slowly covering him like a pure white burial shroud. And then, suddenly, he was no longer alone, Eugene’s presence so real, so powerful, his voice so crystal clear like a choirboy’s, coaxing him to get up. Get up, my love.

He hadn’t dreamed it in a while, though. At first, when Eugene no longer came to him in the night, it had saddened him. It felt like losing him all over again, although, as the months passed, he had to admit that there was also some element of relief, of solace, in knowing that Eugene had moved on. That he’d found his peace somewhere. Because that’s how Hank chose to see it. That Eugene had found peace.

He’d always wondered about the he that Eugene was referring to in the dream. And then, after Colton returned, he’d just assumed that his long-lost nephew had been the he that Eugene had spoken of. Because Colton did need him. So, in a way, that made sense, and he’d forgotten all about it. Only now, he was no longer sure. Heck, these days he wasn’t sure about anything, it seemed. And it had only been a week. Only a goddamn week since Finn had left and most days when his alarm rang, he just wanted to hide under his blanket and will the world to go away.

Because he missed him. He missed Finn so goddamn much that he felt like just smashing something, even though he’d never had a destructive bone in his body. Even as kids, Walter had usually been the one to start a fight—and end it, too—since Hank had always felt wrong throwing a punch or even a mean word back. Never had he destroyed anything on purpose or out of anger, and now he just felt like raging against the world. Tell everyone to go fuck themselves— yes, go fuck the fuck off! —when they asked how he was doing or if he'd had any word from Finn. As if Finn had just gone away for the weekend and then he would be right back, standing at the bottom of the stairs to the porch, smiling up at Hank with that boyish smile of his that should be goddamn illegal when you were thirty-six.

Because why would he come back? What would give him any reason to come back to this godforsaken corner of the world to an old fool—to an old spineless coward—who had just stood there and watched while one of the best things that had ever happened to him disappeared out of his life? When instead, he should’ve said, “Don’t go,” or “Please, come back,” or maybe just “I’ll take ya. Wherever you wanna go, I’ll take ya just as long as I’ll never have to be away from ya.”

But of course, he hadn’t said any of those things because he was a fool. And there had been no doubt about the stunned expression on Finn’s face or the lost look in his eyes as he’d gotten into the car and Hank had done nothing to stop him. That look was going to haunt him forever and then some.

So, yes, mostly he just felt like kicking his own ass for being such an idiot. For letting the kid go without even giving him something, anything, except for a handful of old planes and a red scarf with frayed edges. And that wasn’t a lot when you wanted to give him the entire world or perhaps just your heart and your time, because if anyone deserved it, it was Finn. He deserved everything.