Andrew

“HAVE YOU SEEN THE KID?” I SHOUT out to Taylor. I throw the last bag into the wagon as if I can’t see his little sneaker under the blanket in there. Or hear his tittering laugh when the bag lands on him.

Taylor smiles, knowing full well where he is but playing along. “I don’t know! Maybe he’s over by the root cellar again.”

“What a little shit!” I yell out, walking around to the ATV and grabbing the helmet. “I can’t believe he’s not here to say goodbye.”

The Kid pops up from beneath my bag and yells, “I’m not a little shit!”

I grab him under the arms and hoist him out of the wagon. “Don’t say shit.” I put him back on the ground, but he promptly stands on my foot and wraps his arms around my leg. Lucky for him, there’s no rain in the forecast, so that leg isn’t hurting. Oddly enough, that same superpower isn’t working with my left hand—which has healed nicely over the last few months, but still doesn’t work like it should. The nerve pain is less, only an odd zap every once in a while instead of a constant throb of agony. But the index and middle fingers still aren’t mobile and probably never will be.

Luke, one of the actual smart people at Bittersharp, made me a glove that has metal wire splints in the fingers. He cut off the pinkie and ring glove-fingers—and sewed up where the thumb should be—but left the other two with the splints sewn in. I can bend and reposition them so they hold things. Like ATV handles, for instance.

I walk over to the others with the Kid hanging on tightly, then he hops off and goes over to them. Howie, Raven—their daughter, Lydia, who is a little over a month old, is fast asleep in her father’s arms—Taylor, and Jamar are all there.

“You all don’t have to be here,” I say. “I’m probably coming right back tomorrow anyway.”

“And we’re probably coming out to see you all the time,” Taylor says. “What’s your point?”

“I don’t like an audience when I leave. Remind Jamie to tell you about that when he gets here.”

And then everyone gives me that look that says, We absolutely will when that absolutely happens. But I know it will. Sure, it’s almost May, but I know he’ll get here when he gets here. Maybe he’s the one who stepped in a bear trap this time and has to wait until he’s healed. They all probably think I’m delusional, but I don’t think I’m at that point yet.

I’m optimistic, not delusional.

Because of all these people, I’m the one who’s truly an optimist.

“All right!” I say. “Better get going. If you hear an ATV in the middle of the night, it’s because I heard a noise and got scared, so don’t shoot me.”

I head back to the ATV. There’s a dirt path to the cabin now. Worn down—and cut down—after almost four months of weekend work back and forth.

“Andrew, wait!” Raven calls out. I turn, expecting to see her coming to give me yet another hug, but it’s the Kid who’s running after me.

I crouch down and he wraps his arms around my neck. I look up to the sky, trying to force the tears burning my eyes back into the ducts where they belong.

“Kid, this is embarrassing. You’re making us look so uncool.”

“I miss you,” he says.

Jesus, does he have money on getting me to cry?

“I’m not even gone yet; how can you miss me?” My throat tightens a bit because I’m going to miss him, too. “Be good for Raven and Howie, okay?”

He nods and I finally lose my composure when he says “Okay,” his voice watery. I hug him again, rubbing his back.

“All right, that’s enough.” I let him go and stand. “Now get out of the way before I run you over.” He nods and starts walking back to the others. I turn back to the ATV, but something tugs at my heart again. The way I said it. I know it was just a joke, but what if the Kid doesn’t? I keep going into a full-360-degree circle and call back out to him. “Kid!”

He turns and I close the distance between us and crouch down to hug him again. “I love you, Kid.”

Then he whispers, “Albie.”

“Huh?”

He steps back and rubs snot from his nose. “My name is Albie.”

Well, shit. My mouth hangs open, then I smile and nod. “Albie the Kid. Pretty fuckin’ badass.”

He gives me a devilish grin and whispers, “Badass.”

I shake my finger. “Don’t say badass.” I stare at him. He’s only a short ride through the woods, but not seeing him every day is going to be hard. I wish he hadn’t gotten so comfortable here with Raven and Howie; maybe he’d want to come live at the cabin. I had a few moments where I imagined them all living with us—Niki, Jamar, Taylor, Cara, and the Kid—cramped and arguing in the cabin. Still happy, though, and safe. But it’s better for him here with everyone. “I’ll miss you, too, Albie.”

He runs off, this time heading for Raven, who runs her fingers through his hair as he wraps his arms around her leg. Without looking back again—because I know I can’t keep doing it—I pull on the helmet and hop on the ATV.