Sign Here(54)
Silas watched her in the sun, his hands on the steering wheel. But he was just seventeen, and his words had yet to catch up to his feelings. So eventually, he turned the key in the ignition and left.
* * *
—
NOTHING WOULD’VE LASTED WITH Sarah; he knew that. He would’ve met another girl in college, maybe a handful. Maybe more. The names Lily and Sarah would have become nothing but rose-colored associations—or some other, murkier color. Soft-skinned girls who contributed to his creation, who pulled off small parts of themselves to make him more durable. Other names would’ve taken on meaning. Annabelle, maybe. Or Elizabeth.
Or Ruth.
As soon as he thought it, as if by his will alone, there she was.
She stood on the edge of the clearing like the rest was dangerous. Or maybe it was the opposite. Maybe she was the danger and the rest was sacred.
“Mr. Harrison?”
“Hi, Ruth,” Silas said, not looking up. He found the plastic that once held a six-pack and threw it behind him.
“I don’t mean to bother you.”
Silas sighed and straightened up, wiping his brow again.
“You’re not bothering me.”
“I want you to know—last night wasn’t Mickey’s fault. It was mine. It was my idea. I basically made her do it.”
Silas looked at Ruth, using one arm to block the sunlight, and realized what it was about her that kept him looking long after he should stop. She looked like Sarah.
“She loves you so much, and I’m really grateful to be here. I mean, being with you guys—I’ve never been around a family like yours.” Ruth swallowed. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. You were so nice to let me come here, and if I ruined it, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“You didn’t ruin anything,” Silas said. “I’m sorry I got so mad. I didn’t mean to be rude to you. It’s just that this place has a lot of significance for our family, not all in the best of ways. But you know that already, don’t you?”
Ruth twisted her hips and pulled on the tie of her bathing suit bottoms. Silas hadn’t seen this bathing suit before. It was yellow with blue polka dots. It tied the same way as her other ones, knots in the crucial parts. Little else.
“I’m sorry. I really am. I’ll stop prying—she only told me things because I pushed it. I just—we don’t really have any old family stories. It’s just my mom and me, you know? She doesn’t tell me much. So it’s cool to hear—I don’t mean what happened is cool! Shit. Shit! I shouldn’t curse! I’m sorry.” Ruth pushed her palm into her face.
Silas laughed. “It’s fine, Ruth. Really. Forget about it.”
“So you’re not mad at Mickey anymore?”
“I’m going to talk to her later.”
Ruth shifted but stayed at the tree line. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
“I don’t have to answer your questions; you’re a kid.”
He smiled enough to let her know he was teasing, and she laughed.
“What are you doing?”
“Fixing the old gal up,” Silas answered, digging his fingers back in. “I figured if you guys are going to be down here, it might as well be tetanus-free.”
From where he knelt, Silas could see where Ruth’s legs started at the forest floor, but not where they ended. He could see how she balanced on one foot, placing the other flat against her knee. How she made that balancing act look casual.
“Can I help?”
“Sure, why not? How about you go through the rocks and take out the ones that we should replace? The small ones.”
“Okay,” Ruth said. She pushed off from the tree line with a spring, but when she went to her knees, she did so gently.
Silas could hear her open and then close her mouth, catching a thought.
“Go on,” he said. “Ask.”
Ruth picked up a small rock and flicked it over her shoulder before reaching into the bag for its replacement.
“How do you know I want to ask something?”
“Not to brag, but I’m basically fluent in teenager.”
“You should write a book.”
“Just waiting on Oprah’s seal of approval.”
Ruth laughed. “Okay, fine. I was just wondering about your brother. What he was like.”
Silas didn’t say anything. In his silence, the sounds of the forest seemed to overcompensate.
“I’m sorry, see? I shouldn’t be allowed to talk!”
Ruth made a fist around the rock in her hand and slammed it into her face.
“Whoa, be careful!” Silas said, knocking the rock to the ground. He took her chin in his hand and looked at her skin. It remained untouched. Flawless.
“I’m sorry,” Ruth said again, her voice quieter now.
“Just be careful.”
“No, I’m sorry I came. I shouldn’t be here. You don’t deserve this.”
She sat back with a thump.
“You’re too hard on yourself; you know that?” Silas asked, wiping a piece of dirt from her cheek with his thumb. She closed her eyes against his hand.
“My brother was my best friend,” he said, but then he shook his head. “No, you know what? That’s not right. That’s the kind of thing I’m supposed to say. He wasn’t my best friend; he was my big brother. But unless you have a big brother, it’s hard to explain the difference. Do you have any siblings?”