Present
Sabrina stares out the window, her features hard behind her oversized sunglasses and too much makeup. I squeeze her hand but she doesn’t squeeze back. Six years after Drew’s death and my wife has yet to snap out of it. Depression is her middle name. Losing Drew was the final straw after years and years of tragedies that plagued our family. There was no coming back after that. She was lost. For me, losing Drew, was the most crushing of all the heartaches in my life. It was real. Tangible. Horrifying. And yet I couldn’t abandon our other child. She was still alive and very desperate for love.
Devon and I had to keep on living while Sabrina got to live in the past. With him. Obsessed over the memories they shared. Suspended in a time that doesn’t exist anymore.
This move is my last-ditch effort to bring her back to us.
A Hail Mary.
My last hope for a miracle.
“According to data compiled by the Wildlife Land and Water Coalition, people are forty-five times more likely to be killed by a dog than by a bear, one hundred and twenty times more likely to be killed by bees than a bear, and an incredible two hundred and fifty times more likely to be killed by lightning than a bear,” Devon chirps from behind me, her long skinny leg stretched out to nudge me in the arm to get my attention.
Our eyes meet in the mirror and I laugh. This girl and her useless facts. “Too bad we stocked up on bear spray then, huh?” I tease.
Her eyes are hidden behind her sunglasses that are similar to her mother’s but her smile is wide and carefree. At sixteen, she’s brilliant and full of life. “How many bears you think we’ll see, Dad? One a month? Two a month? One a week?”
Sabrina tenses from her seat. She was cool with every part of this move. The bears have her scared shitless though. I vowed I wouldn’t let her get killed by a bear.
“A buddy of mine who did a sabbatical in the Alaskan wilderness said he saw several a day. They’re plentiful in these parts.” I grin at her in the mirror. “But that’s why God made guns.”
“Dad!” Devon complains. “Don’t shoot any bears.”
I shrug. “Not a promise I can make, Pip. If it comes between a bear living to catch another fish tomorrow or my baby girl remaining unharmed, you better believe I’m going to kill that bear.”
At this, Sabrina snorts. “Okay, Davey Crockett.”
Devon giggles from the back and passes her mother a brochure she picked up at the last gas station before we began the hard leg of our journey. “Look at the map, Mom. Bear Country is what they call it. Five bucks says Dad tries to carpet the house with bearskin rugs.”
Sabrina takes the brochure and stares at it. Her lips are pressed into a firm line. I’m sure she’s coming to terms with reality right about now. In another six hours or so, we’ll be right in the middle of our property. I liquidated every dime of my multimillion dollar global real estate company and purchased thousands of acres deep in the Alaskan wilderness.
After a humiliating episode between my wife and a woman at one of California’s most elite country clubs we were a member of, I knew we had to do something drastic. Sabrina had taken to slapping a woman because she didn’t like how the woman was talking to her son. It was the meltdown of the century. Screaming. Crying. Cursing. Sabrina had to be escorted off the property and we were banned from the club for life. To make matters worse, with social media being a bitch, her psychotic rage was filmed by dozens of others at the club. It spread through the internet like a goddamned forest fire, burning our family’s hard-earned reputation in its wake.
I moved fast.
Instead of watching developers and buyers walk away from Jamison Enterprises, I began liquidating and selling. It took nearly a year, and that long to plan, but we’re finally ready to move on with our lives.
Just the three of us.
Off the grid.
Like those crazy bush people, as Devon likes to tease.
When I mentioned it to my wife and daughter, I’d expected resistance. I should have known Devon would be on board first. We spoke with her teachers at her all-girls private school and they let her double up her studies so she could graduate from high school early. My daughter, brilliant as the sun’s rays, crushed her sophomore year which ultimately also became her senior year.
Sabrina was a little harder to convince. She couldn’t see my vision. Despite the blueprints I’d drawn up of a cozy log cabin and ideas for collecting water and planting crops, she was confused. Her life was our million-dollar home in San Francisco. Her life was nothing but pictures and things that belonged to our son.
But I did convince her.
Told her she could bring those memories with her.
That Drew would have loved the wilderness. Our son was adventure on top of adventure. A true wild one.
She said yes and here we are.
Hours along a dirt road lined with thick trees toward the place we’ll make a home. The trailer we’re pulling is full of tools we’ll need. We’ll stay in the RV I purchased until I get the cabin built. Together, as a family, we’ll build new memories. We’ll make a life where we can be happy and free of the stresses of the outside world.
Me being an orphan, I have no family that would care. And we promised Sabrina’s snobby parents that we’d come down to California once a year to visit. Other than that, we’re free.
“University of Alaska has a high suicide rate among their students,” Devon blurts out. More useless information. “Looks like college is out of the question.”
I shake my head. “Two years and then you’re going. You promised. That was one of the caveats,” I remind her.
Our Siberian huskie, Buddy, barks as if in protest. Six months after we lost Drew, I brought her home that dog. It didn’t replace her brother but it gave her a playmate.
She pops her gum and laughs. “Can’t blame a girl for trying, Dad. What can college teach me that I don’t already know?”
“Manners,” I grunt.
This gets a chuckle from Sabrina. “Maybe how to get a boyfriend.”
“No. Boys. Ever,” I say in a dramatic tone that earns me a huff from behind me.
“Whatever, Dad.”
“Just being real, Pip.”
She snorts. “Don’t try to be hip. You’re not hip.”
“She’s right,” Sabrina says, a smile lighting up her pretty face. “You’re not hip. You’re old.”
“Well, while you’ve been getting massages,” I say and point at Sabrina. “And while you were taking Snapchat selfies,” I say and jerk my head toward Devon. “I was taking the survivalist classes. I chopped all that damn wood for practice too. I may not be hip but I’m basically a god. God of the Great Unknown.”
Both my girls laugh and my heart nearly leaps out of my chest.
This is exactly what we needed.
“Where’s your mom?” I ask as I step into the RV. Buddy trots in behind me and walks right up to Devon to give her a wet kiss.
After wiping her cheek, Devon looks up from a book and frowns. “Headache.”
I roll my eyes. Anytime Sabrina is depressed, she plays it off as a headache. She knows I won’t argue it and she can sleep in peace. “It’ll be dark soon. Want to explore, Pip?”
She tosses her book down and grins. “Let me grab my hiking boots.”
Once she dresses and pulls on a hoodie, I grab my rifle and together we set out on an exploration. We’re another three or four hours from our destination I mapped out but I didn’t want to chance driving the RV and pulling the trailer in the dark. The farther we get inside the dense forest, the harder it will be to travel. According to the previous owner of the land, Atticus Knox, I know that at the end of the road is a small clearing that overlooks a gorge where a fresh water river runs through it. I’d fallen in love with the pictures he emailed me and paid the hefty sum. He assured me that the area was unpopulated. No people for hundreds of miles. Secluded as fuck. Exactly what I was hoping for. Since we were traveling out of state, I negotiated for him to leave some equipment I’d purchased from him. When we get there, I can essentially start working on our dream home right away.
Devon squats to inspect a plant and I notice a bush with many berries. Her dog sniffs around and his ears perk up when he hears a sound beyond the trees.
“Look,” I tell her with a grin as I step through some brush to reach the bush. “Berries.”
“Dad! No!”
Buddy barks as if to yell at me too.
I jerk my hand back and frown. “What?”
“Baneberries. Those are poisonous. We don’t need you going into cardiac arrest.” She stands and makes a motion with her hands. “Step away from the white berries if you want to live.”
I laugh but wisely step away. Apparently more than useless information rattles around in that brain of hers. “Okay, so which ones can we eat, Pip?”
She trudges along a few hundred feet and stops before a bush with red berries. “These aren’t ripe yet, but they’re safe. Promise me you won’t eat anything without asking me first?”
I hold my hands up in defense. “Promise.”
She sticks out her pinky and her lips quirk into a sweet smile I remember from her when she was a kid. I hook my pinky with hers.
“Pinky promise,” we both say.
Her eyes are filled with love and happiness. I knew this move would be life changing. We’ll eventually pull Sabrina out of the dark hell she lives in. With time, everything will be perfect.
She releases my hand and continues walking along the edge of the thick forest that overhangs into the road. I’ve already had to stop more times than I can count to either move limbs or hack through them with the chainsaw. Atticus promised the last few hours of the journey were the hardest. He hasn’t been to the property since before winter when I purchased the land from him. Winters here are harsh and unforgiving. The trees are casualties.
Buddy growls and the hairs on my neck stand on end. Heavy crunching resounds about a hundred feet into the thicket on our right.
“Dad…”
“Stay calm.”
Despite all our researching and classes, we’re still city folks. It’s all fun and games until someone sees a bear for the first time.
We wait for what feels like ages. Buddy gets bored and shits. Nothing terrifying emerges from the woods. The sun is setting fast and I fear our little exploration is over for the day.
“Come on, Dev. Let’s get inside and see about dinner.”
She trots back over to me, sidestepping Buddy’s bomb, and I hug her to my side. After Drew died and I picked myself up off the floor, I vowed to give the love I had for two children to the one we had left. I took her to the movies and shopping. Every day I took her to school and picked her up. Any opportunity when I wasn’t traveling or working, I spent with my daughter.
Sabrina sure as hell wasn’t doing the job.
“How about Frito chili pie?” Devon asks. “It’s Mom’s favorite.”
I squeeze her. “You cooking?”
She looks up at me and grins. “I’m the only one who knows the recipe.”
At this, I snort laughing. “Step one, open a can of chili. Step two, heat said chili. Step three, pour over Fritos. Step four, sprinkle the cheese and onions on top. Did I miss anything?”
“You’re such a sarcastic shit, Dad.”
She flings the RV door open and rolls her eyes at me before clomping up the steps.
“Don’t say shit, Pip.”
I close the RV door and lock it out of habit even though nobody will get us out here. By the time I kick off my boots and pull off my jacket, Devon is hard at work on her specialty. The way she effortlessly moves about the small space softly singing one of her favorite pop tunes reminds me of the way Sabrina used to be.
So. Full. Of. Life.
“I’m going to go check on your mom,” I tell her as I pass her in the kitchen. I drop a kiss on the top of her head before scooting past her. Once inside the back bedroom, I close the partition door. It’s dark inside. Sabrina sleeps naked. An invitation. Sometimes when she’s in a dark mood, the only way to bring her back is through sex. The RV is small and the walls are practically non-existent but Devon will be distracted cooking dinner.
I peel off my clothes and crawl into the small bed beside my wife. She’s awake but doesn’t speak. I’ve been through this song and dance enough times to know all the motions. Each time I pray she’ll snap out of it long enough to love me the way she used to. But every time I’m disappointed. Doesn’t stop me from trying.
My mouth finds her throat and I kiss her soft flesh. Her breasts are still firm despite her now being well into her late thirties. I fondle them even though she won’t respond. When I start kissing down her throat on a mission to her pussy, she shakes her head in the dark and says one simple word.
No.
I groan in frustration and begin our usual routine. Parting her thighs, I settle on top of her. My dick is having trouble staying hard so I stroke it quickly before pushing into her heat. A sharp gasp is the only evidence I’m fucking a woman and not a corpse.
My mouth tries for hers but she turns her head to the side. It’s as though she punishes herself from all forms of pleasure and happiness. If Drew couldn’t have it, then why should she. It kills me that she thinks this way.
I desperately try to be quiet, but our bodies slap together. The grunts coming from me are feral and borderline angry. Sometimes I want to grab her by the throat and shake some goddamned sense into her.
Sabrina never comes.
Never.
She lets me use her as an outlet so I can come. So she can tie us together—no matter how loose it is—in the only way she knows how. It’s always been enough. Just barely.
“I love you,” I whisper, my breath hissing from me.
She doesn’t respond.
My eyes clench shut and I come hard. I’ve barely finished spurting out my release before I’m yanking out of her. I snag my shirt and wipe my dick off before tossing it into the corner. Neither of us speak. I just came and I should be relaxed but I’m pissed off. This trip was supposed to help. If anything, she seems worse on the first night on our land.
“Dinner will be ready soon. Devon cooked your favorite,” I spit out as I yank my jeans on.
“I’m not hungry.”
It takes everything in me not to go off on her.
“Night,” I bite out.
She doesn’t respond.
When I yank open the divider, Devon wears a guilty look as she stares down at her bowl of Frito chili pie. She’s set out two more bowls and even made her mother a glass of lemonade. Bitterness threatens to tear me in half but I swallow it down.
“Smells good, Pip,” I say, my tone gruff.
Her watery eyes lift to meet mine. It fucking breaks my heart. No sixteen-year-old girl should have to deal with this shit. She glances at my bare chest and then looks down at her food.
“I’m sorry you had to hear that.” The sex. The rejection. The slow death of my marriage.
“It’s fine, Dad.”
I settle in across from her and eat dinner alone with my daughter. Just like every other goddamned day.
And I eat Sabrina’s untouched bowl just to make Devon smile again.