Rose of Betrayal (64 page)

           
Suddenly
he stopped short as if an impossible hurtle had sprung from the earth.
 
Facing him was a towering spruce chronicling
their past expeditions.
 
Squeezing eyes
shut he decided to ignore the obvious, an unpersuasive effort countered by a
magnetic pull tugging him closer to the dreaded registry of friendship.
 
Lances of bright sunshine shot between
hundreds of green peaks piercing the blue sky.
 
Heavenward eagles wings stretched in flight, free, tranquil, no cares or
concerns, merely trying to survive.
 
He
would give anything right now to fly away, avoid the inevitable, he sadly
reflected, far from the ache eating at him like cancer.
  
He could not pass the stately edifice, he
simply couldn't.

           
Soldierly
he stood for an undetermined time staring at the carvings before a finger
stretched to trace each initial, each date, and the motion magically summoned
memories that dashed in and out of his bruised mind forcing his finger to
continue. Then with a sudden gasp, it retracted.
  
Feeling wounded in the deepest recesses of
his heart the freshly chiseled initials and date spun him around.
 
Swaying brought his back with a hard thud
against the bark.
 
Spasms claimed every
muscle as the terrain swiveled and heaved until the snake he believed himself
to be slithered to the ground.

           
Faded
memories of his friend swelling his throat closed off the natural flow of
air.
 
Tears came all too easily.
 
Drawing his knees to his chest he wrapped his
bulky arms about them burying his head silently interrogating himself - when
did it go astray, how, why?
  
An hour
later, resolve tiptoed across his reflections.
 
Perhaps they had lived too closely in each other's pockets to see each
other clearly, whatever it was, as sure as the seasons change, as sure as the
sun rises and sets, somehow he knew this day would come – no one is ever
ready.
 
Alone with nature, within her
solitude and shelter where wisdom to resolve life's trials and tribulations can
be found, he felt safe temporarily, and, while Mother Nature embraced him, he
cried like a baby.
 
Sam, if only she was
here, he moaned.
 
If only he had her to
go home to, maybe then he could face the dragon's fire.

           
The
bandage of time covering his wound began to heal ever so slightly giving him
the stamina to begin his journey anew, but only after the sharp point of a
knife etched his initials alongside Teds’ where his friend intended them to be.

           
Twigs
snapped beneath feet sinking into the cushions of pine needles.
 
Rabbits defied the invader.
 
Birds chirped merrily at the huge orange ball
in the sky.
 
Squirrels and chipmunks
curiously examined the intruder before scampering off.
         
Breaking the crest of the hill through branches, he saw
the peak of a roof nestled in the mountain's cleavage.
 
It had been a very long time since he felt
the surge that always returned just as powerful as the very first time two
young boys discovered the cabin.

           
All
he had to do was let it go, leave, forget everything that happened, he
reasoned. Yet, how could he ever forget or forgive Ted for what he had done to
Sam.
  
In a last ditch effort to
comprehend again his mind rummaged his heart.

           
A
gunshot shattered the silence.
 
The sound
of splintering glass rifled the air.
 
“God, no, god, no, god, no,” pit of the stomach screams ricocheting from
one mountain peak to another. With his body ahead of his feet, he charged the
gap separating him from Ted, each leap and bound, like a chain across his
back.
 
Feet skidding down a hill caused
an avalanche of dirt and gravel to follow.
 
Hands frantically clutching at rocks and branches attempted to steady
his decent.
 
Weighted with stones his
body felt like as he sank up to his knees in the nippy, foaming wetness of the
creek.
 
Reaching the opposing muddy
embankment, his legs slipped beneath him as fingers clawed to gain control.

           
He
remembered hearing once, that love could bridge any gap, span the widest
chasm.
 
Never did he dream he would have
to put it to a test, for closing that space, reaching Ted, was all that
mattered.
 
He had to tell his childhood
friend, his buddy, his partner, his brother, no matter what, he loved him,
before . . .

           
Boots
filled with swishing liquid vaulting over the steps of the cabin propelled his
torso through the thin wooden barrier to penetrate air smelling of
gunpowder.
 
Positioned in the rocker with
his back toward him he saw Ted's lifeless body.
 
His heart skipped a beat, a tightened throat burned from acid secretions
churned by fear's spear.
 
Dear God he was
too late, moans dangling in the air while he moved like a snail toward the
inevitable. Reaching Ted’s side, there was no time to assume what happened
before a cold iron grip locked around his wrist.

“What took you so long, my friend,”
Ted whispered.

With antagonism spilling between his
lips, Brad screamed, ”You son of a bitch.”
 

           
Clenched
hands full of white cloth hoisted Ted to his feet bringing faces nose to nose,
Brad’s eyes a rainbow of ridicule, fright, and relief, a look so penetrating
Ted's expression turned pallor.
 
“What in
hell were you trying to do scare the shit out of me?”
 
Shoving Ted backwards, “Trying to rob me of
my pleasure?”
    

           
Ted
was a mass of confusion.
 
His friend's
eyes normally lending a hint of humor, now showed only splintering hatred.
 
Attempting to lighten the heaviness of the
mood Ted answered with soft insolence, “No, you stupid asshole; just trying to
hurry you along.
 
Jesus, it took you long
enough.
 
And, by the way, don't you ever
get tired of being pissed off at me,” with a quizzical lift of his brow, “When
it should be the other way around.”
 
         

           
“Fuck
you,” Brad yelled lunging at Ted with such force both tripped over a stool,
their weight landing heavily on top converting it to scrap.
  
Rolling under the roughhewn table Ted rising
up on his knees to straddle Brad sent the table crashing to the floor.
 
Empty cans went helter-skelter.
 
Ted's fist secured Brad's collar so tightly
his face turned scarlet.
 
Puzzled by
Brad's violence and sincere tone, “I don't want to fight you . . . I”

Brad’s knuckles cracking against
Ted's jaw shifted his weight slightly.
 

Swiping at a bloodied nose and torn
lip with the back of his hand, Ted matched the blow to Brad's jaw then tugged
him to his feet, “But, if you insist.”

           
Bending
at the waist, Ted's head butt Brad's stomach sending him crashing against the wall
caving in a few weathered planks.
 
In
retaliation, Brad jerked his knee up catching Ted under the chin hurling him
backwards to the floor.
 
Roaring with
such force the veins in his neck stood at attention, Brad spewed, “Had enough,
ready to spill your guts?”

           
In
answer, Ted's foot slipped between Brad's legs, the toes wrapping around Brad's
heel combined with one swift movement hauled Brad's leg from under him sending
him plummeting to the floor.
 
Sitting up
bracing himself, arms behind him, Ted sanctimoniously reiterated, “Are you?”

Eyes dangerously
narrowed, Brad snarled, “Like it or not, if it's the last thing I do, so help
me God, you're either going back to face charges or I'm going to kill you.”

           
Blood
spackled hands launching for Ted's neck shoved him down, without releasing the
strangle hold; Brad perched on his stomach pinning his friends forearms with
his knees.

           
Gasping
for air and spitting blood, Ted choked out, “This time you're wrong buddy, and
I will never make it out of here.
 
They will
kill me first.
 
Why do you think I sent
you the rose?”

           
Ted's
statement slowly piercing Brad's consciousness lessened the tension of his
hands.
 
“You!
 
You knew about the rose?”

           
Languidly
standing Brad ran his hands through his hair brushing down the unruly ringlets
only to have them spring back.
 
Shirking
his shoulders, he massaged the tense tendons of his neck.
 
Suddenly feeling listless, he straddled a
bench.
 
Wiping at the blood on his face
he searched for his voice, “You knew?”

           
Ted
began to rise unaware that what little energy remained had been expended making
it necessary for him to place a hand on the wall for support.

Through clearer eyes, Brad
scrutinized Ted.
 
“You look like shit,”
then witlessly injected, “What in hell is going on?”

Instantly rattled, Ted asked, “You
didn't get it?”

“Jesus!
 
Get what?
 
If you ever talked in a straight line I'd . . .

“The brief case I sent to Tom along
with a note for you.
 
He was instructed
to locate you when you arrived in New York and hand it over.”

           
The
reality of his foiled plans made Ted light headed.
 
Turning the rocker to face Brad he fell into
it growing inordinately still.
 
Disappointment and worry shone in eyes
  
suspiciously moist, his voice a whisper.
 
“I was hoping I wouldn't have to tell you in person.
 
Chicken shit I guess.
 
I've made a mess out of everything, like
always.”
 
Leaning forward, elbows on
knees, hands covered his lined face.

More perplexed than ever, Brad was at
a loss for words.

A spell of thick quiet filled the
room until broken by Ted.
 

           
“Believe
it or not, in many ways, I envied you, your patience, understanding, strength,
intelligence, your ability with women.
 
Candy, well, I was jealous.
 
I
thought I would lose you as a friend if she came into your life.
  
Sam was another story she was special, so
unique, beautiful in body and spirit.
 
She made me feel like a giant.
 
The emotion I felt for all the other women were rivers flowing with no
purpose, Sam was an ocean.
 
I knew once
she met you, she'd never give me a second look so, I lied to her.
 
I purposely attempted to turn her against
you.
 
I couldn't bare losing both of you
so, I made my choice.
 
I was out of control
before she came along, and foolish enough to think she could help me hang
on.
 

           
“It
was the hardest thing to witness - the love between the two of you
blossom, grow and . . . I really thought when she married me she . . . “

           
Observing
his broken friend listening to his tale of remorse made panic pinch Brad's
features.
 
In a catalepsy, he sat trying
to absorb his friend's continuing confession.

           
“When
you left I came to realize it had been you all along who built the dreams, made
them come true, forced me to study, encouraged me to graduate, who put my
name
 
before yours in business.
 
All I ever did was attempting to destroy the
only good thing in my life, our friendship.”

           
Although
it appeared Ted was looking directly at Brad, his eyes turned distant as though
he was seeing some other time, some other horizon.
 
“I saw you and Sam at the wedding reception
when you gave her the rose, and kissed her.
 
A kiss I knew meant more than friendship.
 
I knew she pressed the rose inside a book and
I died slowly each time she retrieved it.
  
In her face I saw she realized too late she’d married the wrong man.”