Merit
Granite Harbor, Maine
Present Day
I stand back as Ryan talks to the seventy-plus kids about what game wardens do—from chasing bad guys in the woods to finding lost hikers.
A little girl raises her hand. “Warden Taylor, have you had to shoot a bad guy?”
“No. Thankfully, I have not.”
Another child asks, “What about a tiger? Have you had to shoot a tiger?”
“No. No, I have not. Tigers aren’t animals that live in our woods.”
“What if he got loose from the zoo?”
Ryan smiles. “Well, then, I’d try my best not to shoot the tiger but instead try to get him back to the zoo as safely as possible.”
Blake, the little boy from earlier, asks, “Warden Taylor, why don’t you have hair on the top of your head?”
Ryan laughs a real, genuine laugh, and I feel the wall inside me crack just a little bit. The wall I’ve put up to shelter my heart. My protective barrier. I feel his smile deep within my own little cracks of vulnerability. The cracks I can’t control. The cracks that have been building. Becoming bigger, exposing me a little more.
“Because hair would just get in the way. It makes being a game warden easier.”
Blake stares, focusing on Ryan’s answer but also pondering his next question. “My mom just uses a hair tie. She has another one if you want to have hair again.”
Then the crowd gasps.
In walks my brother with Rookie.
Ruby excitedly rushes to Eli. “Thank you for coming,” she whispers.
Eli nods and walks to Ryan, and the two men stand in front of the group of kids. Rookie pushes on Ryan’s leg with his nose, and Ryan reaches down and gives him a good pat.
Rookie sits.
“These are my friends Eli and Rookie.”
The kids so badly want to rush to Rookie, getting antsy while sitting in their seats, on their hands. But they know they can’t.
“Hey, kids! Who knows what a K9 unit is?” Eli begins.
From the doorway of the gymnasium, I watch two of the most important men in my life entertain and educate our youth about water safety, making good choices, and following the laws.
If I’m being honest, Ryan is an important piece of my past. He owns many of my childhood memories, mostly good ones. Even the bad ones. And, somehow, watching him with my brother makes me want to fall even harder for him, seeing how he’s overcome what he’s had to in order to get here today. It doesn’t mean that I have to fall in love with him again. But it means that I can still love him, appreciate his past, my past, because maybe things don’t have to happen to us; they happen for us.
In groups of five, the kids come up and pet Rookie, and Ryan takes another larger group out to his patrol truck.
“Think you can help us keep the kids together at Ryan’s truck?” Ruby asks.
“Absolutely.”
“My name’s Olivia. What’s yours?”
I look down at her hand in mine. She’s no older than seven. My heart twists and contorts as I see her fingers in mine.
I take in a big breath of air. “Hi, Olivia. I’m Merit.”
She drops her head to the right and pulls her top lip back, exposing her toothless grin. She thinks on it. “I like it.” We walk out to Ryan’s truck. “Do you like tigers?”
“They’re beautiful creatures,” I say.
“Yeah, I wanna be a tiger when I grow up.”
I don’t dare laugh. “Why do you want to be a tiger?”
“Because they’re pretty, and they run fast.”
A little boy hits Ryan’s sirens, and Olivia takes off.
“Bye, Merit!” She waves back.
“Bye, Olivia. Nice to meet you.”
I watch as Ryan interacts with the kids. Picking them up. Showing them buttons on the vehicle, his computer that sits on the dashboard, and how he can work from anywhere.
“Whoa! Are those guns?” another little boy asks.
“Yes.”
The kids in the truck look up and see the two guns locked to the ceiling of the cab.
“A shotgun and a rifle. But wardens only touch those when it is absolutely necessary.”
The kids move on with their questions after a brief silence.
Kids pile out of the work truck, and one little boy pulls on Ryan’s pants. “Warden Young? Who’s that lady? Is that your girlfriend?”
Ryan’s eyes meet mine.
There are defining moments in our lives when we question if honesty is always the best policy. Will the truth protect me? Will the truth hurt someone else? Or is the right answer the wrong answer?
Seconds pass.
And we’re still staring at each other, and I feel his eyes on mine, staring right through me, cracking the wall a little more.
“She used to be. Now, she’s a real good friend.”
“So, she is your girlfriend?” the extra-smart little boy asks.
Ryan shrugs. A smile begins. “Yeah, buddy, I guess you’re right.”
“Good, because she’s really pretty.” He smiles.
“All right, campers! Back to the gym! Bubble Jim is up next.”
The kids, with help from some of the camp leaders, pile back into the gymnasium, leaving Ryan and me alone by the truck.
I look over at Ryan after a long silence. “You’re really good with kids.” And I can’t help but say, “You would have been good with ours.”
I see the searing pain that starts just beyond his eyes, making its way down to his heart.
“Come on, Rookie!” We hear Eli calling.
We turn just in time to see Rookie barreling around the corner and straight for Ryan, who bends down and gives Rookie big love, putting his head to his fur.
“Hey, buddy.”
Rookie rubs his nose on me, and I, too, reach down and love on him.
“Big baby,” Eli says as he walks to the truck. “Really interesting to see him with kids now. The dynamic has changed. He used to be more work, work, work, and now, he’s more interested in the little humans, ever since Emily was born anyway. I think Rookie has taken on the role of protective older brother.”
“How do Larry and Rookie get along?”
Larry is Alex’s Maine Coon cat; she brought him from Belle’s Hollow.
“Two peas in a pod. I’m convinced that Larry thinks he’s a dog, too. He sleeps with Rookie on his bed. Grooms him.” Eli rolls his eyes. “It’s pathetic.”
Ryan’s still loving on Rookie. I think it’s his way of avoiding the conversation, maybe because old feelings have come up from what I said earlier.
“How are the shoulder and ribs?” Eli asks.
Ryan finally stands, sore. “Better.”
Whether he thinks he’s doing better or it’s the pain medication, I’m not sure. I guess only time will tell.
“Drinks tonight at Angler’s Tavern? I’m off at five unless something comes up.”
Terrified, I don’t look at Ryan. If I look at Ryan, it will seem more like we’re a couple seeking input on plans. Plans that we don’t have. Input that shouldn’t involve Ryan and Merit. But rather, Ryan period. Merit period.
“I’m free,” I say. Not, We’re free.
I don’t keep Ryan’s agenda. His calendar.
“I’m good, too. No plans.” Ryan follows suit.
Eli curiously eyes both of us. “All right then. You ready, Rookie?” Rookie’s licking his nether regions. Looks up at Eli. Blinks. “All right. Truck.” And Rookie bounds to the warden truck that’s parked next to Ryan’s. “About six?”
“Sounds good,” I say awkwardly.
Ryan tosses the keys in my direction. He used them when he showed the kids around the truck.
“Warden Taylor, Warden Taylor!” Blake comes running out with a handwritten note. “I want to give this to you.”
Ryan, with pain this time, barely bends over. “Hey, bud. What have you got there?”
“It’s a picture of you getting the bad guy.” Blake looks at Ryan.
“Thank you, Blake. Wow. I’ll hang this on my refrigerator, so I can see it every morning before I go to work.”
Blake smiles proudly, and then he grows shy and stares at his feet. There’s another drawing behind his back.
“Do you have something else for me?”
“Yeah.” But he’s quieter about this one. After a few seconds of silence, he pulls the other picture from behind his back. “This is for your dog.”
Ryan tilts his head to the side and takes a look. “But, buddy, I don’t have a dog.”
Blake grows uncomfortable.
I peek over Ryan’s shoulder. It’s a picture of a gray-colored dog. On the collar of the dog is written, Heeewow.
What?
“There’s a dog that follows you, Warden Taylor.” He stalls. “My mommy gets scared when I draw stuff like this.”
I can’t pull a thought together right now. I’m almost certain Ryan feels the same, if not even more overwhelmed.
“When I drew a picture of my dad behind my mommy one day, she started to cry.”
Ryan touches Blake’s shoulder. “What color was your dad in the drawing, Blake?”
“Gray.”
“Yeah?”
Blake nods.
Ryan’s quiet for a moment before he speaks. Ryan has never talked about Hero with me since his dad backed over him when we were teenagers. “Hero was my dog when I was a kid. I got him when I was your age. He went to heaven, just like your dad did.”
Blake nods again. “Gray people are in heaven. That’s what my mom told my grandma anyway.”
“Yeah.” Ryan touches the boy’s shoulder again. “I think you and I both can use a hug right about now.”
The boy, with ease, slides into Ryan’s arms.
Tears start to form in my eyes. I think Ryan needs this. I think Blake needs this. Maybe things happen in the exact time that they’re supposed to happen.
Maybe.
“Thank you,” Ryan tells Blake. “And I have something for you. Stay put.” Ryan opens the passenger door and grabs a plastic badge from the glove compartment where he keeps ten on hand at any given time because he loves kids.
Blake’s eyes light up. “Thanks, Warden Taylor.” Then, he turns to me. “Thanks, Bug.”
My heart comes to a speeding halt.
What? What did he just call me?
Ryan looks at me, his face about the shade of white that I probably am. He looks back at Blake. “What did you call her, bud?”
Blake looks past me—or through me. I’m not sure which. “The woman behind you, she said to call you Bug.” He stops. “She’s a gray person, too.”
My mother.
Knees weak, I just need a minute. Everything inside me wants to turn and look, but I know Blake can see things, hear things, that most people can’t. A metallic taste in my mouth spreads, like a warm liquid.
I swallow.
To a child, it’s so innocent. It’s as simple as, I see something. Here it is. It’s gray. Sometimes, what I see talks. That’s it.
There’s no overthinking it.
But, for adults, we tend to mash it up. Make it messy. Make it weird. Scary maybe. Through a child’s eyes, it’s uncomplicated. They say or draw what they see.
What Blake sees and hears isn’t complicated. It’s fact, it’s concrete, it’s evidence, and he just has the sensitivity and the openness to see it.
So, I don’t scare him. I don’t feed him the bullshit messiness that adults create around things like this. But I do bend down, take his little hand in mine, and thank him. I don’t allow him to see the shock that’s making my body vibrate. I allow him to see the gift he’s given Ryan and me today.
“Thank you, Blake. You made my heart so happy.”