Page 62 of Upstate

“Ready, Daddy?”

He reached up. I pulled him to his feet. We walked slowly, his cane in one hand, the other holding mine. I picked up the rifle along the way and used it as a walking stick. Mother was waiting in the kitchen when we came in, a pot of coffee percolating on the stove.

“I’ll take it from here, Hazel,” she said, draping Daddy’s arm over her shoulder. “You’ve done enough for one day.”

Instead of calling you to come pick me up, I decided to walk home. I do my best thinking on my feet, and I had a lot to mull over. I’d lost track of time in the woods with Daddy, but the sky seemed bright enough when I left. I only noticed the loss of light after I’d crossed Patience Creek. I considered turning back, but I’d had more than enough of my parents for one day. All I wanted was to get home to you, so I pressed on, trusting my feet to know the trail. It wasn’t until I stumbled over the same boulder for the second time that I realized I’d gotten turned around in the woods.

I looked up, but the sky was no help. The useless moon was new, the North Star not yet twinkling. There must have been some dim light left in the gloaming because I didn’t walk smack into any trees, but I got plenty of scratches from waving my arms in front of my face. The only thing I had to go on was the rise of land beneath my feet, but heading uphill wasn’t the same as going in a straight line. Ridgetop Road was less than a mile away, but without a path to follow, I could loop through the woods for hours. Before long, it would be safer to hunker down until morning than keep going in the dark. I hated the thought of sleeping rough on the damp ground, but I hated the thought of you worrying more.

Suddenly, from somewhere up ahead, I heard sheep bleating. I veered toward the sound. Through a thinning in the trees I saw white humps hovering like ghosts. I’d found the pasture, its open sky flecked with stars. From here, I knew my way blindfolded to the pond. Beyond that, a light in the barn beckoned brightly. I ran across the dark lawn toward our house, calling your name.

There you were, a shadow rising from a rocking chair on the side porch. “Hazel, thank God!”

You caught me up in a hug. I went limp in your arms. I’d been brave the whole time I wandered the woods, but you never knew that. As soon as I was safe, I started blubbering like a baby.

“What happened? Did he hurt you?”

“Who, Daddy?” I shook my head. “No, I got lost is all.”

“Lost?” You held me at arm’s length. “You didn’t go into the woods without a flashlight, did you?”

“It wasn’t dark when I left,” I sniffled.

“Oh, baby, I was so worried. I picked up the phone to call your parents a dozen times, but I told myself to trust that you were handling it.”

“I did handle it,” I said, drying my face on your shirtsleeve. “Then I got lost.”

“Well, you’re home now.” You brought me inside, where you had a fire going in the kitchen, our first blaze of the season. You sat me down by the hearth with a quilt over my lap and put a mug of hot coffee in my hands.

“I’ll draw you a bath before bed,” you said, “but first I want to know what happened.”

I told you everything from the moment you drove away. I finished my story by showing you the bullet from Daddy’s gun. “This could have been the end of any one of us, Evelyn.”

You pocketed the bullet and took my hand. “We had a close call, but we’re all okay, aren’t we?”

We weren’t okay, not by a long shot, but I let your comment slide.

“You were very brave, Hazel.” You put another log on the fire, stirring up sparks. “On the ride home, Billy was saying he’s seen firsthand how war damages everyone and everything it touches, but he and Mai just got out of a combat zone. He refuses to bring his child into one. He’s planning to keep his family away from Schuywich until your father apologizes for the things he said about Mai.”

Apologies weren’t Daddy’s strong suit, but that seemed beside the point. Simply seeing Mai’s sweet face made his worst memories come flooding back with a violence he couldn’t control. Even if he wanted to, I wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to separate his grandchild’s features from the masks of his nightmares.

“I don’t know how to fix this, Evelyn.”

“That’s not your job, is it, baby?”

“Actually, I think it is.” If there were a way to reconcile Billy and Daddy, though, I certainly wouldn’t figure it out tonight. “I’m ready for that bath now.”

I winced as the hot water touched my scraped skin, then sank in with a sigh. You pulled over a stool and sat beside the tub, massaging shampoo into my scalp.

“Listen, baby, I’ve been thinking over what your dad said about leaving you the house instead of Billy.”

“He wasn’t himself when he said that.” I dipped my head back so you could rinse away the suds. “He didn’t mean it.”

“If he did, though.” You measured your words. “If he did, I think you should let him.”

“What, let Daddy disinherit my brother because he married a Vietnamese girl?” I pulled the plug and let the water drain out. “Billy doesn’t deserve to be punished because of the person he fell in love with.”

“You could say the same for yourself, Hazel.”