The Impossible Knife of Memory(25)

“I wish I could, Hayley, but I made a commitment to the guys.”

“Just for one night?” I hated whining, but couldn’t help it. “Please?”

“I’m sorry.” Roy stubbed out his cigarette on the bumper and carefully put what was left of it back in the pack. “I’ll talk to some people when I get back to base, make sure that someone from the VA checks in with him. This shouldn’t be on your shoulders.”

He looked like he was going to say more, but we were interrupted by a skinny, acne-scarred soldier. “Everyone’s awake, sir, and cleaning up.”

“Make sure they put out the fire completely,” Roy said.

“Captain Kincain just built it up again, sir. He told me to leave it alone. And, ah . . .” he hesitated.

“What is it?”

“Sir, Captain Kincain wants us leave ASAP. He was pretty loud about it.”





_*_ 33 _*_

Dad emerged from his room after they left and joined me at the bonfire, carrying a six-pack of beer. He threw on a couple sticks of wood and sat on a folding chair without a word.

“It was nice of them to stop by,” I said carefully.

He picked a thin stick off the ground and threw it into the fire. “Yep.”

I pulled the buzzing phone out of my pocket. It was Finn:

“Friend from school.” I quickly typed:

yes plz

later

and put the phone away.

“Not what’s-her-name up the street?” Dad asked, cracking open a can of ten-o’clock-in-the-morning beer.

“Not Gracie.” I said. “A new kid. New to me, I mean.”

He grunted, beer can on his right knee, left leg jiggling like he was listening to fast music I couldn’t hear. He leaned forward and poked the fire with an old broom handle. “Thought you had homework.”

That was my signal to leave him alone. I couldn’t, even though I knew I should. Beer for breakfast was freaking me out. The wind rattled the dried cornstalks in the field next door. I tossed a stick onto the fire, sending up sparks, and tried for a safe path through the minefields of Dad’s mood.

“He said I looked like Mom.” I cleared my throat. “Roy did. It was weird to hear him say that.”

Dad grunted.

“So was he like a best friend or something back then? I mean, if he remembers what Rebecca looked like.”

He poked at the fire again. “He and his girlfriend lived in the apartment below us when you were born. I don’t remember her name. She and your mom were friends.”

“You never said I looked like her.”

“You don’t.” He drained the can and popped open another one. “You look like yourself. Nobody else. Trust me, that’s a good thing.”

I picked up a rock the size of my thumb and tossed it in the fire. “You don’t think I look like you? Not even around the eyes?”

He stretched his neck to the right until the bones popped. “Don’t do that.”

I threw in another rock. “What?”

“Sedimentary rocks can explode in a fire. The moisture in them turns to steam, then boom.”

“You’re not my teacher anymore.”

He poked at the fire again, lifting the logs to get some air underneath them. “Why are you in such a crappy mood?”

There was no way to answer that without getting into trouble. He was the one with the mood, with the crazy demands, chasing his friends out before they could eat the breakfast he’d cooked. He was the one acting like a kid, making me figure everything out on my own. Roy handed him the perfect opportunity to get his head straight and Dad basically spat on it. Made me wonder if he liked being a miserable hermit, if he enjoyed screwing up my life as much as he was screwing up his own.

“Are you gonna answer me or what?” he asked, daring me to mouth off.

All of his stupid anger about Roy was being aimed at me. I didn’t deserve it, not this time. I pitched another rock into the flames, trying to stay calm because this was dangerous, my heart beating this fast, my mouth bitter and dry. I’d been angry at my father before, but this was different. I’d leveled up without realizing it. This new landscape was cave-dark.

“Did you hear what I said about the rocks?” he demanded.

I scooped up a handful of pebbles. “Yep.”

“Ah,” he said as if enlightened. “You’re pissed, is that it? Have a crush on one of the soldier boys? You’re crazy if you think I’d let any of them near you.”

The north wind gusted again, stoking the fire and sending my hair writhing in all directions. A loud pop came from inside the flames. Dad flinched. A rock had reached its boiling point.

“How come you didn’t go with them?” I asked.

“Didn’t want to.”

My phone buzzed. I didn’t answer it.

“Talking to Roy might have helped,” I said.

Smoke billowed.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said.

“Roy thinks you should talk to someone from the VA.”

“They’re the ones who did this to me.”

“Dad—”

“Enough, Hayley. I don’t want their help.”

“Okay, so don’t go to the VA, but at least go up to the camp.” My phone buzzed again. “You were actually laughing last night, Roy—”