Dirt (The Dirt Trilogy) (4 page)

After dropping Taylie off at her house, I stop by the Birches to
pick up the meal Lucinda has for us. She cooks dinner for us on
occasion and even though they aren’t blood relatives they’re the
only real family we have. Their house is several miles from Dad
and me. They’ve lived there for as long as I can remember, but they
go out of town a lot so we don’t see them often. I think they have a
condo down south or something. They’re pretty well-to-do. I pull
up to the big flat stone house always with a manicured garden. I
ring the doorbell which plays a whimsical melody. The door flies
open.

“
Come in dear.” Mrs. Birch apparently knew it was me. She
grabs me and hugs me while squeezing the breath from my lungs.
“Hi.” The words barely push pass my vocal chords because of
the limited air supply. She’s short and round, but stout as an ox.
She pushes away from me, and looks me over as if I’m
livestock, checking to make sure nothing is broken.“How are you
feeling?” she asks as if I would lie to her.
Before I can respond, Mr. Birch comes from around the corner.
He puts me in a big bear hug. Marvin is as short and round as
Lucinda, both with flaming red hair and freckles which would make
it easy to play dot to dot on their faces. They are both a little quirky
at times.
“Ashe, is that you? How’s my girl? Feeling well, are we?”
Here they go again. Just like Dad. Why is everyone so worried
about my health?
I drink that disgusting medicine every morning
like I’m supposed to. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been sick
with even a cold.
“I feel fine,” I respond trying to get beyond the topic of my
health.
“How’s school?” Mr. Birch asks.
“Great.”
Lucinda comes out of the kitchen holding a brown paper bag.
“Bake this up at three hundred and fifty degrees for about thirty
minutes.”
“Thanks so much,” I say as I take the casserole from her. I love
it when she cooks for us. I could smell an appetizing scent coming
from bag.
I’m not
much of a
cook and her
food tastes
like
something I would imagine my mother making. I head for the door.
“Leaving so soon?” Marvin asks.
“Yes, sir.”
“Tell Henry‘hello’ for us.”
“I will, and I promise I’ll stay longer next time. I have a lot of
homework to do.”
“Of course, dear.” Both of them hug me as if I’m theirs to
keep, pressing the casserole into my ribs. They’re so good to me
and that makes leaving them difficult. They’re the grandparents I
never had.
When I get home, Dad is in the backyard burying something
again; the usual for our house where everything is unusual. I shake
my head as I watch him through the kitchen window; he looks so
consumed with what he’s doing. I know he isn’t normal. Whatever
is in his mind seems to keep him prisoner. I feel sorry for him
sometimes.
I wonder if my mother hadn’t died, would he have become
this? At times, I can hear him talking to her as if she were here in
the flesh. He’s imprisoned by the love he had for her. Sometimes, I
think he’s losing his mind, but he’s high functioning at work and is
apparently pretty good his job. He’s received a lot of awards from
his research and developed medications that have saved the lives of
many people. They say there is a fine line between genius and
insanity. Dad teeters on that line every day. I worry one day he’ll
fall onto the side where he could lose himself.
As I sit eating the vegetable casserole, Dad meanders into the
kitchen. Dirt on his pants as usual, bringing with him a musty
outdoors smell saturating his clothes.“How ya feelin?” he asks his
standard question.
“Fine, Dad.” Same conversation. Same tone.
“Your mother is real proud of you, Ashe.”
“Thanks, Dad.” He speaks as if he’s talked to her personally.
“The Birches said to tell you hello.” I watch him eat. He’s in his
own little world. Thinking. Conjuring. Creating. I wonder what
could be going on in there, in his mind.

I lay in bed resisting the morning with thoughts of his sharp
features piercing my mind and the rays from his teal blue eyes
burning through me. He smells of evergreen, fresh, and wholesome,
but I know that no matter what, Rowen is off limits.

As I wake up, I feel the warmth of the sun hitting my face
through the window. My skin is tinged, but comfortable.
“Ashe! Ashe!”
The frantic calling of my name pulls me out of my comfort, out
of my thoughts of what might have been a wonderful dream.
“Ashe! Ashe! Ashe!” Dad is in a panic.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I rub my eyes as I run down the
basement stairs. His lab is in shambles. Someone broke into the
house during the night.
“We’ve got to call the police.” I pick up the house phone and
start to dial 911. In one swift movement, he pushes the phone out of
my hands onto the floor smashing it into pieces before I can finish
dialing.
“No! No!” he insists pacing back and forth running his hands
through his dark brown hair that is in wild disarray. He begins
dialing his cell phone.
“Who are you calling?” My hands are quivering with the
thought of someone being in our house without us knowing it. I
slept through it all. The back door to the basement was apparently
left unlocked and whomever it was entered at their leisure. There
wasn’t any forced entry.
“Dad, who are you calling?”
“Marvin, get here as soon as you can. Someone’s broken into
the lab.”
“Why are you calling Mr. Birch?” Dad’s face is mangled in
worry.
“He’ll know what to do, Ashe.”
“The police will know what to do.” I try to bring him to reason.
“What do you think they would say if they saw a set up like
this? How would I explain it?”
I can see his point. He picked up his cell phone again. “Who
are you calling now?”
“Into work.” He may have been late often, but he never missed
a day on the job.
“I’m not going to school today. I need to stay here and help
you get things cleaned up.”
“Yes, you are. I would feel better if you did. You don’t need to
miss class. That will give me something else to worry about.” He
looks up his face caught in an expression of surprise and runs
outside into the backyard. I follow behind him. “Thank God,” he
sighs.
What in the world is he worried about out here?
We have a
large yard and nothing but national forest behind us. Wilderness.
Lots and lots of wilderness. What is it?” I ask confused.
“Nothing,” he responds as he goes back inside and I follow
behind him. He’s keeping something from me. I hope he’s not into
anything illegal.
No way, not Dad.
In a fluster, he looks around the basement at shattered glass and
upturned tables. He’s a ball of nerves, falling apart. Marvin arrives
to help with the mess. He’s aware of Dad’s strange ways and it
doesn’t seem to bother him. Sometimes, he helps Dad in the lab. I
guess they’re kind of like kindred spirits. Marvin Birch is much
older than my father and has his wits about him.
“It’s going to be alright, Henry. We’ll get this cleaned up,” he
reassures Dad, whose hands are still shaking.
I call Taylie to let her know I’m not going to make it, but her
car is still in the shop and I don’t want her to have to miss school
too. So, I listen to Dad and go to class.
“Ashe, don’t worry. I’ll take care of Henry. Everything will be
alright.” Mr. Birch gives me a wink, his voice comforting and calm.
I would probably be in the way if I stayed.

As I wait in The Recess, I search the room from a corner booth.
I hate to admit I hope to see Rowen again. I wonder if he is
watching me. He isn’t here, but I can feel his warmth in the air
which is fresher than usual. Maybe, I’m wishing it, dreaming the air
is different.

I have to keep my head out of the clouds. I can
’t get emotional.
I can’t let myself get too close to anyone, but I can feel myself
getting caught up in the thought of him.

I have Dad to think about, but the thought of Rowen sparks
another side of me; a side I don’t know. I didn’t see him today.
Is
that why I feel so empty? Is that why my heart feels bare and
exposed?

When I
arrive
home I
head
straight for
the basement.
“Everything seems to be in order now and accounted for,” Dad
announces. His lab is back to normal and he’s much calmer. He’s
still sweeping up small flecks of glass from broken flasks off the
floor.

I instruct as I wonder whom would do this.
“I
thought I
did. Marvin
helped me get everything
back
together.” He tries to capture every speck of glass, as he looks
down with each word. Eye contact isn’t something he’s good at.
Tonight, sleeping will be difficult. I’m hoping the break-in is
an isolated incident, but the whole thing has me on edge. I’m able
to get my next assignment completed, “The Family Portrait,” Dad
and me holding a picture of my mother, done in oil, 11x14. I don’t
see how Professor Bran expected us to paint that in two nights and
then only three days for it to dry. He’s rushing us; speed painting.
I’m not pleased with my work, but I’ll have to turn it in anyway.
When
I start to fall asleep, I hear the staircase creaking.
There’s one plank that has a distinct cracking sound when you put
your weight on it. It’s loose and Dad has never fixed it. I ease out
from underneath the covers and go down the basement stairs.
Someone is down there. I can hear them moving around. Holding
my breath, I continue down the steps and turn on the lights.
Dad and I scream in unison. “What in God’s name are you
doing, Dad? You scared the crap out of me.” He’s trying to catch
his breath.
“I came down to check on things. Couldn’t sleep,” he huffs.
“After what happened last night...you had me worried. Don’t
do that again.”
“Sorry, Ashe. I think I’m going to sleep down here tonight,” he
says as he points to the worn leather recliner in the corner of the
room.
“Whatever, Dad. But keep this light on.” I turn on the desk
lamp in the corner and turn off the florescent lights. I walk back
upstairs and back to my room relieved it was only Dad. I stop in the
doorway.
What if they come back and Dad is down there by
himself?
So, I sleep on the sofa in the den in case he needs me.
Watching over him is my lot in life, my purpose and sometimes it
makes me feel trapped.
A part of me thinks Taylie really has it made. She’s able to do
whatever she wants, with whomever she wants, whenever she
wants. I feel tears seeping into my eyes, but I don’t know why I
have the urge to cry.
Only if my mother hadn’t died, things would
have turned out so differently.
I’ve never felt so emotional about it before. In the past, I didn’t
let myself get emotional about it, about anything. I bury my feelings
because life is safer that way. It’s easier to accept responsibility, but
for the first time in my life I want something else. Something I
can’t have. Someone I can’t have.
Professor Bran stands in front of the class looking over us
reeking of boredom. He lectures on the mixing of oils today and we
turn in our assignments. Jackson painted a portrait of five cows and
a pig sitting on a couch. I have to say it’s pretty good.“It’s an
abstract.” Sarcasm reels from him. “The pig is my cousin.”
“What do you think Professor Bran will say?” I ask.
“Don’t
really
care.
These
assignments
are
ludicrous.”
Jackson’s talent is obvious, so I can understand the reason for his
frustration.
The Professor walks toward us, picks up Jackson’s portrait and
smirks with his right brow raised. He plops it back down on the
desk and turns to look at mine which is boring and uneventful.
Aesthetically speaking, it’s not done nearly as well as Jackson’s.
This project proves I’m not the best artist in the world, but I do love
to paint. Watching the Professor’s face, he gives my artwork a
quick glance.
“Perfect,”
he
says. I
can’t believe
his comment.
Jackson
wrinkles his forehead looking my way.
The professor strolls back to the front of the room, collects a
black bag from his desk and leaves.
“That fool. He wouldn’t know talent if it kicked him in the
face.”
Jackson takes
a
quick look
back at me realizing
his
insinuation. “No offense.”
“None taken.” He’s right though. Jackson has more talent than
most of the class. Anybody could see it. “Don’t let it bother you.
Maybe, he’s jealous. We haven’t even seen any of his work yet.”
“I can’t drop the class. Guess I’ll tough it out.” And he storms
from the room.
I meet Taylie at The Recess, the local coffee shop. She’s
waiting for me at the table that has become our usual spot. I scope
the room, trying to hide my motives from Taylie, but I don’t see
him.
“Things settle down at home?” she asks.
“Yeah. Still shakes me up a little.” I answer scanning the room.
He’s not here. Well, if he is I don’t see him.
“I’ve
haven’t seen him either.”
Taylie
must notice
my
preoccupation.
I don’t respond and pull an apple out of my bag attempting to
act nonchalant.
“What do you think that was all about, at the library? One
minute he’s following me and the next minute he’s gone,” I ask.
Taylie knows what’s on my mind so there’s no sense in trying to
hide it anymore and she knows a lot more about guys than I do.
“Guys. You can never figure them out. Don’t even try. I wait
for the next one to come along.” She grabs her stuff. “Gotta run.”
Taylie has another class, so I wait for her. After she leaves, I
bury myself in Romeo and Juliet. Taylie isn’t gone long, and I’m
getting into the study mode, when the air around me becomes
warmer and fresher. He’s here. I can sense him. I look up and he’s
pulling out the chair across from me, helping himself to a seat.
“Hi, again,” he says as if he expected me to be here.
“Have you been watching me?”
“I waited for your friend to leave so we could talk.”
“Well, here I am. Alone. Well, technically I’m not alone
anymore.” I start to babble. My nerves get the best of me again.
Palms sweating, heart pounding, and my breath begins to leave me.
“I had to talk to you alone. I heard what happened at your
house last night.”
What did he say?
I’m floored and for a moment scared to
death. Chills run down my back and through my gut.
“Who are you? How do you know where I live? No one knows
about last night. Did you...?” I tremble as I sense my wooden chair
softens like quicksand and I sink. My voice shakes as if I’m sitting
naked in below zero temperatures.
“It wasn’t me, but I do know who was there.”
“Who was it? Who are you?” Everyone looks at me. I guess
I’m yelling. “Who are you?” I insist, my voice a little quieter. I
catch the polish of his eyes and suddenly fear rushes from me. For
some strange reason I feel safe with him, but I’m still angry because
he knows something I don’t.
“The Birches. They’re friends of mine,” he explains.
“I’ve never seen you there.” I relax a little more as I lower my
voice.
“They
told me
what happened. Be
careful, Ashe. There
are....well, there are...people out there who will hurt you. Who will
hurt your father.”
“Okay, now you’re really scaring me. Who are you? And what
do you know about the other night? Why are you following me?”
Questions spew from my mouth like word vomit.
He hesitates, “To protect you.” He places his hand on my arm
and looks down at me.
“Why do you need to protect me? You hardly know me.” I rub
my arm still warm where his palm had been.
He doesn’t disclose anything.“Trust me. Can you do that?” His
voice
is
calm
and deliberate, soft but strong, soothing
but
energizing. I only know his name, his first name.
“I trust you,” I say without wavering, without thinking twice.
The quivering is gone. “But I would like some answers,” I add as
my logic decides to become a part of the conversation.
“Not now,” he says.
“I’ve never seen you at the Birches.” I don’t doubt him, but I
try to get some answers and right now it’s like pulling nails from
hardened asphalt.
“I’ve known them all my life,” he informs.
“What do you know about my father and who would want to
hurt him? He’s harmless.”
“Not now, Ashe. There’s so much you don’t know.” That’s
obvious.
“If not now, then when?” Dad and I are in danger so you would
think I would have a right to know what’s going on.
“Be careful,” he says still unwilling to divulge information,
still moving my pulse in a race it cannot win.
Rowen stands up as I remain sitting, staring up at him. He
towers over me and I feel protected, but I don’t know why. Taking
my hand, he pulls me close to his chest. I stand up gazing into the
abyss of blue that has now swallowed my soul. His lips linger
without an invitation.
“Ummm, am I interrupting something? Excuse me?” I hear
Taylie’s chipper voice, somewhere in the background, breaking up
the moment. Apparently, she’s been trying to get our attention.
“Oh. Hey,” I mutter as I come out of a trance.
“We’ve got to go, Ashe. I’ve got to go to work.” She waves her
arm urging me toward the door.
“Oh, s...sure,” I stutter.
“I’ll walk you to your car.” His touch moves down as he
presses the palm of his hand in the small of my back leading me
away from the table. I sink into his hand and I’m now in unfamiliar
territory.
“What are you studying, Rowen?” Taylie asks still bubbling
over as we walk.
“Mythology.”
“Cool. So where are you from?”
“Hmmm…Hamilton.” He doesn’t seem too sure of his answer.
My mind races. I’m confused. The logical, reasonable Ashe
tries to convince me I shouldn’t trust him. But I do even though I
have no answers, no conclusions.
We arrive back at my car. I reach for the door handle, but
Rowen beats me to it. Smooth as silk and without arrogance, he
opens the door for me catching me off guard. His face brushes
against mine, shy of touching me as I get into the car.
He leans in. “Be careful,” he whispers.
Shutting the door, he steps back and watches us drive away.
Taylie is beside herself. “Details, details, details.”
“There’re no details,” I insist.
“Ashe, what happened? There’s something obviously going on
between the two of you.”
“I don’t know what to think about it all, Taylie. He knows
about the break-in. He says I have to be careful. For Dad to be
careful.”
“Okay, that’s kind of creepy.”
“You don’t think...” I pause for a moment doubting everything.
“He knows the Birches.” I remind myself.
“Well, that explains it.”
“Explains what?” I respond glancing away.
“How does he know about what happened the other night? The
Birches. They must have told him,” Taylie says.
Instead of an explanation, all of this raises more questions. My
mind drifts off, as Taylie babbles on and on about me and Rowen. It
all sounds like chatter in the background of a movie theater as my
mind is cluttered with thoughts of his identity. Thoughts of why I’m
so unbelievably attracted to him despite all of the unanswered
questions make my mind swim with waves of uncertainty. Nothing
about this whole situation makes sense. I should be terrified.