She couldn’t understand it and recognized that she didn’t have the energy to try. Instead, swiping at her tears, she took a deep breath and left the house, descending the porch steps and heading toward the road. She took a seat on the stump, adrenaline fading fast. How long had it been since she slept more than a few hours at a stretch? Too long, that much was certain, and now she was paying the price. With every exhale, like a deflating balloon, the frantic energy of moments earlier was replaced by a blanket of almost overwhelming exhaustion. In the silence, her limbs seemed to be falling asleep, and though she tried to concentrate on the weed and the guns and the secrets in the barn and the man in the truck, she felt strangely disconnected from those things, as though she were watching herself from a distance. From somewhere deep inside, she understood that she had to leave, but the urgency had become a receding tide. It was flowing out and away from her, growing ever-more distant while the rest of world blurred at the edges. She could feel herself beginning to sway as she tried to stay balanced, her body already rebelling. She needed to rest, to sleep. More than anything, she wanted to close her eyes and drift away, if only for a few minutes. What would be the harm? Even if the man in the truck suddenly reappeared, she didn’t have the energy to hide…
“No,” she said aloud. Knowing she needed to focus, she forced herself to stand. She tried to summon the fear she’d just experienced, but it remained dull and listless, a phantom more than reality.
“Stay awake,” she told herself, shaking her head.
She began to pace then, back and forth, like a tiger in a cage at the zoo. Within minutes she heard the bus, a low growl in the distance. The image started as a shimmery liquid mirage, gradually solidifying as it drew near. The brakes squeaked, and then the bus slowed and came to a halt. There was a soft hiss when the doors swung open.
Through the windows, she saw Tommie seated near the rear of the bus and watched as he rose and made his way forward with his backpack slung over his shoulder. Her love for him provided a single moment of clarity, like the sun’s rays passing through a cloud. All at once, she felt like herself again, and just before her son jumped down to the road, he turned and waved to someone behind him. Despite her exhaustion, Beverly broke into a wide smile.
He finally made a friend, she thought. When he was close, she reached for his backpack, and they started toward the house. He was home and he was safe and he’d made a friend, but with every step, the clarity faded. She wanted to ask how school was, wanted to ask who he’d been talking to just then, but the words wouldn’t seem to come. She reminded herself that they should leave before the man in the truck returned, reminded herself that they had to escape before it was too late, but the fear associated with it had fogged over again like breath on a mirror. She fought to keep her eyes open. Tommie kicked at a small rock on the path, sending it skittering.
“Are you going to come to the school tomorrow?”
The sound of his voice startled her, and it was difficult to process what he’d asked. Finally: “Why would I come to the school?”
“It’s field day, remember? Amelia said it’s really fun and some of the moms bring cupcakes and cookies. You could come, too.”
She couldn’t place the name and wondered where she’d heard it.
“We’ll see,” she said, hearing the words emerge as a mumble. When she opened the door, Tommie came to a stop, taking in the utter disarray. She should have warned him, but it felt like too much effort.
“It’s nothing.”
She shuffled to the kitchen and grabbed an apple, then led Tommie to the living room. Using the last of her energy, she plugged in the television and reattached the cable, watching as the screen blinked before cartoons came on. It was Scooby-Doo, something she used to watch as a child, and Tommie settled on the floor, already transfixed. She vaguely heard him take his first bite as she lay on the couch, her eyes already beginning to close. Absently, she used her foot to push a stack of DVDs to the floor, so she could stretch out further. They hit the rug with a plastic clatter. On the television, Scooby and the gang were being chased in a supposedly haunted amusement park. Even as her mind slowly shut down, she realized she had seen this episode.
“Mommy’s really tired, so I’m going to take a quick nap, okay?”
There was so much to do before she left, she thought again, but in the next instant, she felt as though she were falling, and that was the very last thing she remembered before everything shut down and she was fast asleep.