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Chapter Ten - November 15 - Addy

After almost a week of hiding out and sulking in the barn, I couldn't take it anymore. I was going stir crazy. I started off my Monday in dad's office. It was amazing how fast dust and papers could accumulate when you left an old man to his own devices. I spent the entire day with my nose to the grindstone. Even so, every time the bell rang, I looked up expecting to see Kevin and Mason. Not that seeing them was a good thing, but I still expected it.

As the week went by and I began to branch out to other places: the post office, the grocery store, the pharmacy, I still didn't see hide nor hair of them. At church on Sunday I kept expecting the door to open and for them to slide into the back pew, but they were nowhere around.

As we ate our Sunday lunch of barbeque sandwiches, I couldn't take it anymore. I set down my fork and looked over at dad.

"Have you heard anything about Kevin Richardson leaving town?" I asked him. He looked surprised.

"I haven't. But now that you mention it, I haven't seen that boy around town all week. It's not a big place; in a week you're bound to run into almost everyone at least once unless they're holed up at the Old Folk's home."

I tapped my fingers against my glass of tea. Snow had fallen throughout the whole week. It looked like the whitest fluffiest clouds in the sky had decided to visit Earth for awhile. I sighed. My dad smiled.

"It's bothering you, isn't it?" he asked. I looked over at him.

"What's bothering me?"

"Not seeing him."

I shook my head. "No, it's not that. It's..."

It was my curiosity killing the cat again. I didn't like not knowing what was going on with everyone in town. I had done my best to stay invisible, but it's not like I had magic powers. Somewhere deep in my gut, I had a bad feeling that I just couldn't shake.

I did the lunch dishes quietly, my eyes darting constantly to the barn doors. My mind did a tug-of-war back and forth, until finally I couldn't take it anymore. I tossed the dish towel down on the counter and poked my head into the living room. Dad was half asleep; a football game with the volume turned down low was playing on TV.

"I'm taking Robin Hood for a ride," I said. Dad snorted awake, his eyes half-opened.

"Have fun. I'll hold down the fort," he said. I knew by the time the back door closed he would be snoring.

A few minutes later as I tightened Robin Hood’s saddle, I silently chastised myself. I had no right to invade someone's privacy. I didn't even like the guy for goodness sake. Why was I doing this?

Deep down I knew the answer. Someway, somehow, every time I looked at Mason I saw myself. He was spunky and curious and seemingly happy being anywhere. Even so, I noticed a look of confusion in his eyes. Even though I had been five years older than he was when my mom had left, I still recognized that look. I couldn't help but think of the little eight year old girl that acted like she was perfectly happy even though she was completely confused.

Admittedly, if I compared myself to Mason, I thus compared Kevin to my dad. There was something going on that I couldn't peg. He was bottled up tight. The last person to see him in town had been one of the waitresses at the diner. She was a known gossip, but even she told me that he didn't offer up anything more than his name, age, and Mason's name.

Dad and I had been running on autopilot for almost twenty-four years. Except for that brief burst of information that dad had relayed to Kevin when they came over after church, hardly anything was said about why he was a single guy raising a daughter all by himself. Dad hid his pain, even from me, and even though I acted like everything was all right, I couldn't help but feel like he had thrown his whole life away.

I just wanted to make sure that Kevin didn't do the same. I still didn’t know where his mom was, and I had a feeling Mason didn’t either. The little guy deserved so much more.

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The cold wind slapped at my face as Robin Hood galloped through the woods that danced along the outskirts of town. I knew just the right turn to make to end up in the fields behind Kevin's cabin. The cold wind cut through the gloves I wore and my breath came out in great foggy puffs. I was secretly glad when I was able to slow Robin Hood down and slide off his back.

I tied him to a large tree trunk and made my way up to the cabin. My boots crunched in the thick heavy snow that had fallen. The trees looked like they had been dipped in great globs of whipped cream. Unlike the big cities, when it snowed, the snow here stayed postcard pristine.

I stomped snow off my boots as I walked up onto the front porch. I blew into my hands to warm my fingertips and my cheeks before knocking. I waited for a response. I knew they hadn't left town; the car was still out front. After several seconds, I knocked again. Still there was no response. I tried the door; it creaked open slowly.

The entire cabin was pitch dark. Curtains had been drawn over every window. The smell of wet wood and smoke hung heavy in the air. The entire place felt almost like a funeral home.

I walked in, my boots sounded loudly on the wood floor. I licked my lips nervously. The few scary movies I had watched in my lifetime flashed before my eyes. I had a horrible vision of finding mutilated bodies.

As my eyes adjusted to the lack of light, I saw a huge mass slumped on the couch. My heart pounded double-time. I unplugged the lamp that sat on the end table and slowly crept around. If Freddy Krueger was still there, I wanted a weapon.

What I found was much worse than mass mutilation. I couldn't help but gasp. I had seen drunks in my day, and had even dated one for three years, but Kevin took the cake. He smelled like the entire contents of a liquor store. His eyes were unfocused, his fingers barely had a grip on the bottle of Jack Daniels he had in his hand. His clothes looked like he had worn them for days.

At first I couldn't take my eyes off the mess of a man on the couch. Then I remembered Mason.

"Kevin, where's Mason?" I said. With what looked like great deliberation and pain, he lifted his eyes to stare unsteadily at me. He didn't answer.

"Where's Mason?" I asked again. I yanked the bottle from his hand. He made only a feeble attempt to get it back. I saw him wet his lips.

"Kevin, where… is… Mason?" I asked slowly. I could hear the level of my voice rise with panic.

"Gone."

"What do you mean gone?" I asked.

He didn't respond. Instead, his head slumped down onto his chest. After I plugged the lamp in and turned it on I gasped as I stared around. Bottles of liquor, both empty and full lined the kitchen counter. Empty bottles were lying all around the perimeter of the couch. When I looked back at him, a thin trail of blood began to fall from the side of his mouth.

Something had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

I stumbled my way back to the door and without conscious thought unhooked Robin Hood from the tree post. Swinging myself back up, I tore back home the way I came. Robin Hood sensed my distress. As I yanked open the barn doors, he headed right into his stall without complaint. I locked the stall gate and ran up to the house.

The back screen door slammed behind me as I tore into the kitchen. As I had assumed, dad was snoring in front of the TV in the living room. I shook his shoulder hard. He came awake with a jerk.

"Dad, you need to come with me," I said.

“What? Where?"

I was already at the front door, his black medical bag in my hands. I stomped my foot impatiently, tears springing to my eyes.

"It's Kevin." I said. "I found him on the couch barely responsive and I don't know where Mason is. Please, daddy."

I didn't have to ask twice. My great big teddy bear of a father heaved himself out of his recliner, and taking the medical bag in his hand, he headed out to his car.

I was right on his heels.