Chasing Spring(5)

I still took in cameras from the repair shop, but the quantity couldn’t compare to the ones I found online. I usually spent a couple hours a week searching around for rare finds, the specialty cameras that hadn’t worked in years. Those were the most fun to fix; they taught me that there was value in trying to fix something even when everyone else has given up.

I hopped down from the bed of my truck with a box of vintage cameras in tow. It was the last box of the day and I rested the corner of it against my hip as I closed my lift gate, hoping the pile of rust would stay intact for another day.

Harvey stuck close to me as I walked up the sidewalk and into the house. He’d been confused all day, following me back and forth for each trip to and from my truck. Neither one of us was sure of what to make of our new home.

I pushed opened the door to my room and Harvey ran in first, sniffing the carpet around the bed. It smelled different than our house, a fact he picked up on even more than me.

Coach Calloway had insisted he was giving me a spare room, but I knew that wasn’t the case. The stack of boxes with Elaine Calloway’s name scribbled across the side of them proved it. This was her room, and I felt like an intruder.

I glanced around, looking for some space to carve out as my own, but the stack of boxes in the corner kept grabbing by attention. I dropped my cameras on the bed and turned toward them. If I was going to be an intruder, I might as well start acting like one.

I pulled the top off the box on top. An empty perfume bottle rattled against the side as I rooted through the contents. It looked like a bunch of junk, but at the very bottom I found a photo of a young Elaine Calloway sitting between her parents. She was the spitting image of them both. Her mom had her arm wrapped tightly around her, leaning over as if shielding her from the world. Her dad wore a sharp expression, his dark brown eyes staring straight into the soul of the person snapping the photo.

Her dad.

The man who’d started it all.

Fucking prick.

I tossed the cardboard lid back onto the box and stood up.

“Let’s go, Harvey,”

I slid on my running shoes without untying them, picked up his leash, and flew down the stairs.





Chapter Six


April 1985

Blackwater, Texas





Elaine Calloway had always prayed for a sister, a guardian angel, or a hero. She’d sink to her knees in the back of her family’s trailer and clasp her hands together until her knuckles turned white. Her prayers didn’t drown out the sound of her father’s blows; there was no escaping them in their doublewide, but that didn’t keep her from trying.

On particularly bad nights, her mom would sneak into her small bedroom and shove a change of clothes into her backpack for school. On those nights she never let Elaine see her face, hiding behind her long blonde hair, but Elaine knew better. Her mama was the prettiest lady in the whole town and she never covered up her face unless it was black and blue.

“Baby, go to Hannah’s house. Sneak out the window and ride your bike to Hannah’s.” Her pale green eyes pleaded with Elaine to understand.

Elaine glanced down at her pajamas, confused. “Mama, it’s a school night. I’m not supposed to be out late on a school—”

“Elaine!” her mom yelled, before softening. “Do what I say, sweetie. Hurry.”

Elaine shook, trying to keep from crying. Her mama never yelled, not at her.

“Susan! God dammit, I'm not done talking to you!”

Her mama flinched at the sound of his voice. She bent low and put her face right in front of Elaine’s, letting her see the worst of it. Her mom’s lip was split open and her left eye was already big and puffy, almost twice the size of the right one.

“Please go,” her mom pleaded.

Elaine couldn’t stop the tears. She couldn’t be a big girl.

“Come with me,” Elaine begged. “Come with me to Hannah’s!”

Her mom shook her head and moved to the window. She flipped open the rusted lock and pushed it up. A gust of cold night air rushed in and Elaine crossed her arms, trying to keep warm. Her mom tossed her backpack out onto the grass and then turned back for Elaine, waving her closer.

Her dad’s heavy steps sounded in the hallway, growing louder as he yelled. His words were nasty and filled with hate. They were the kind of words that earned Elaine a smack on the butt, but there was never anyone around to punish her dad.

He banged on Elaine's door, turning the knob until the cheap particleboard began to splinter.

“Open the door!” he yelled.

Her mom rushed forward and grabbed Elaine’s arm, yanking her toward the window.

“Ride your bike to Hannah’s,” she insisted. “You remember the way. Just like we practiced—”

“OPEN THE DOOR,” her dad yelled again, his fist banging and banging and banging.

Her mom lifted her up, trying to get her to climb out the window.

“I don’t want to leave,” Elaine cried, clinging to her mom’s neck. “Please. Come with me. Please come!”

“Go, baby. I’ll come get you after school tomorrow. GO.”

She pushed Elaine toward the window and held her steady as she climbed through. It was a three-foot drop from the window to the front yard, and when her bare feet hit the soft grass, she looked up and met her mom’s pale green eyes.