Blindness(95)

I check the rearview mirror to see if Trevor’s made it to his car yet, but he hasn’t. He’s walking back along the path, slowly. My neck twists back to the front the second I hear the sound of Cody’s fist as it pounds on his hood over and over again. His face is hard, his eyes red, and his jaw clenched tightly. I can’t hear him or his conversation, but when he starts to walk back and forth in front of me, digging his hands into the front of his hair and looking up while he screams obscenities, I know something is deeply wrong.

I pull the door handle slowly and slip from the truck just in time to hear the end of his call.

“What do you mean, Gabe? How can they do that?!” Cody’s yelling, and his eyes are on fire. “That f*cking liar!...No, Gabe. Just stay there. I’m coming home. Fuck! It’s going to take me hours…just…”

Cody makes eye contact with me while he’s talking, but his stare is blank, like I’m a stranger. Something’s wrong, and my mind is racing with the possibilities. I piece it together, but only seconds before it comes spilling out in front of me—I know the second Cody’s eyes meet mine again, and they’re cold.

“Just wait for me, Gabe. We’ll deal with it,” he says, tossing his phone on top of his hood while he holds my stare and walks by me, his eyes low and words hanging on his breath. He can’t seem to speak them to me, and instead, he only points his finger at me and shakes his head as he picks up speed and heads straight to Trevor.

“You piece of shit!” he yells, moments before he cocks his arm and sends his fist into Trevor’s completely unsuspecting face.

Trevor falls back to the ground and grabs his face, wiping the blood from his nose on his shirt and looking at it. He gets some on his hand and holds it up to show Cody, almost like he’s using it as evidence, as proof. “Fuck, man! What the hell?” Trevor says, struggling back to his feet, but he never makes it before Cody kicks him back down and lands on him to pound him with his fist again and again—his tired body clearly fueled by rage now.

“You f*cking liar! You did this—all of this!” Cody’s completely gone as he lands punch after punch into Trevor’s head and chest. Trevor’s covering for protection, but clearly overpowered. I can’t watch this happen, so I reach for Cody’s arm, trying to hold it still, trying to stop it, or slow it down.

“Cody! Cody! What are you doing?!” I plead with him. I finally get a grip on his wrist, but he tosses me from him, throwing me to the gravel.

“You! You knew about this!” he shouts as he points at me again.

“Cody! I have no idea what this is!” I’m desperate, and I’m blubbering, I’m crying so hard. I feel like a switch was flipped—and everything that was so close to perfect was stolen from me, like a cruel joke. I’m praying I’m wrong, but deep down, I know I’m not. I can see it all unraveling, and I don’t know how to stop it.

Cody kicks Trevor one more time before he stands up, wiping his face along his arm, and rolling his shoulders straight. “That was Gabe, Charlie. It’s done—everything,” he says, his eyes shifting from me to Trevor. “Fucking cops showed up and started hauling all my shit away, clearing out the shop—every car, Trevor! Seems someone told them I was running a chop shop. Goddammit, Trevor…that’s my father’s name up on that sign, his goddamned memory. Do you really think I’m a criminal?”

I look to Trevor, hoping I see confusion on his face, hoping that he isn’t part of this, and I can tell he’s not. But I also know that Cody won’t believe him. At least, not right now.

“Jim showed up with them, said he has sole ownership now, and demanded they lock up everything, board up the windows, and take it all!” Cody says, kicking up scoops of gravel into the air.

He turns back to me, his nostrils flaring. “They took everything, Charlie!” Cody says, his voice cracking, and his eyes glassy. “My dad’s old car! The tools and photos and most of the books! And Jim said I should ask you about it. Said you knew this was going to happen. How? Why…why didn’t you tell me?”

I’m going to throw up. I feel it coming, and the corners of my eyes are bright, like the world is closing in. I keep moving my mouth, trying to explain it all away, but I can’t. Nothing on me is working—I’m stunned silent.

Jim warned me—he said he would destroy Cody, destroy his dream, if I did anything that hurt Trevor. I turn to Trevor, lying helpless on the ground, and can’t make sense of any of it. I know he didn’t cause any of this—he couldn’t, could he? Cody’s walking away from us to his truck, and he pulls the seat forward to reach for my coat and bag, tossing it on the muddy ground in front of him.

“Here’s your stuff,” he says, climbing into his truck and slamming his door closed. I manage to get to my feet, and I run to his truck, my palms flat along his passenger window as his engine roars to life.

“Cody! Where are you going? Wait! Wait, let me explain!” I beg. Cody rolls his window down, and I try to reach inside, to touch him, but he pushes me away—like poison.

“I have to get back and help Gabe, Charlie. I have to figure this shit out, this goddamned mess,” he says, looking down at his lap. He takes several deep breaths, his body shaking while he tries to force himself back to calm. When he looks back at me, he reaches for my face and runs his fingers down my cheek, but his hand falls back inside the truck, and his face is full of disappointment.