Second Story Available of Upcoming Collection: "Tearing At Holes"

             HOLES AT TEARING

            It was the largest picture in their new house.

Eleven by fourteen.  Black and white.  Showing definition and depth.  Line and breadth.

It was of Tina’s older son, Kirk.  Then seventeen.  At the start of his senior year.  Twelve years of education behind him.  Two semesters left to go. 

And beyond that…scholarships.  Football.  Parties. 

The pursuit of much happiness.

Kirk was posed in a camoflauged shirt with the cuffs rolled up at the sleeve.  His hands stuck in his pockets.  An easy smile on his otherwise stone face.

He was standing in an overgrown pasture with his deceased father’s childhood home in the background.  Even the black and white grain could not wash out the blight on the rotting wood.

Kirk stood with the past behind.  Between the present and the future. With hidden things beneath.

 “You know what the biggest picture in my mom’s house is?” Justin asked his new wife.

“A Coca-cola Santa,” Tina sniggered.

“No. I meant of the family,” Justin said.

“Then I don’t know.  Who is it?” Tina asked.

“Watson.  My mom’s poodle.  She had to put him down before they moved here.  Liked to break her heart,” Justin said.

“A dog?  I’ve never seen it,” Tina said.

“It’s on her bedroom wall.  And it’s even bigger than this one,” Justin said.

“So, what are you saying?” Tina asked.

“That tells my brother and me who’s my mom’s favorite,” Justin said.

Tina paused.  Her eyes turned back and forth as she processed the information.

“Kirk is not my favorite!” Tina argued.

Justin had to look to find his favorite picture.  It was holding down the corner of the foyer behind the door.  A tiny four by eight.  Printed off at Walmart.  Rushed into a frame.

 It depicted a smiling Justin with his arm around a blushing Tina.  Standing in front of the trams that took visitors to the top of the St. Louis Arch.  They had just disembarked from a visit to the summit.  Where Justin had proposed marriage to Tina.

 “Yes he is, mom,” Cameron argued.  He was eleven and already knew everything.  It wouldn’t be long until he was eighteen leaving and learning that everything he thought he knew was wrong.  “He’s always been your favorite. He gets everything.”

“If he is getting anything extra, it’s only because this is his senior year.  And we’ll treat you the same way when you become a senior,” Tina promised.

“Yeah. And you said we’d never have to move again,” Cameron reminded.  Another old hurt he wouldn’t let go.  Nursed and held tight.  To relish and relive.  “You lied.”

“Cameron, no one can control what happens.  Maybe it’s better not to promise anything.  We got today and we are not promised tomorrow,” Justin said.

Cameron decided not to argue against that.  Until he could find an ironclad to sink its logic.

Arkansas was the last place Justin had wanted to move.  But after years of road trips and broken relationships, Justin was ready to sink some roots.  And he had found them among the haunts of his childhood family vacations—the rocky hills and woods and spring fed rivers of the Ozarks.

When Justin had met Tina, they’d ran down the altar.  Promising that each other’s families would now be their own.  Sealing the deal with a kiss.  And jumping into their new home.

Blending two families.

And two households full of stuff.

The garage was full of stuff they hadn’t found a place for.  Scores of banker boxes with documents.  Fifty storage tubs with clothes.  A truckload of thirty-nine gallon trash bags with treasure.

Justin and Tina sifted their way through their belongings.  Pitching or keeping.  But more things were kept than pitched.