What About Kai?

Don’t look at the barn! That’s it, just drive on past, don’t think about it!

I pressed my foot harder to the pedal, taking the corner fast enough to earn a gasp from Lindsey and Katy. The old road was just as rutted as I remembered it, and as the Simmond’s farm disappeared in the dust behind us, I reduced my speed. I realized I’d been holding my breath. Coming home was always emotional.

Mom was on the stoop waiting for us, flour in her hair and arms spread wide for her grandbaby. Katy leaped out of the Chrysler, hurling themselves up the steps. They knew that inside tea would be waiting, with pies and cakes galore. Mom was a hell of a baker.

Lyndsey smiled as she watched the reunion, though beneath the smile was a tension we both felt. It had been a long time since Katy had been so happy. This vacation was all about finding new normals, fixing our little family, and learning to make peace with the changes of the last year. Grandma’s house and cookies were just the medicine we needed.

That night as I brushed my teeth, I found myself staring at the Simmond’s house. The downstairs lights were on, though it was gone midnight. I guess none of us slept so well anymore. I found myself flicking the light switch up and down three times, the way I always used to. Goodnight, Kai. There was no response.

I slept fitfully, the mattress saggy, springs poking me in the back. When the first green-tinged light of dawn poured through the gap in the curtains I gave up, heading downstairs to put the coffee on.

What I wouldn’t give to be fourteen again.

Katy came down next, surprisingly. They usually slept late, their blackout curtains pulled tight to shut out a world they didn’t want to face. They walked over and poured a mug of coffee, giving me a weak smile from under their black hoodie. Maybe Lindsey was right, the country air would do them good.

We sat out on the porch in two white rocking chairs, sipping our hot drinks and watching the sheep in the nearby field.

“Remember when you were little?” I asked them, remembering the curly haired toddler in her purple princess nightdress, running over the lawn to pet the animals. “You used to tell me all of the sheep were named Bob. ‘Who’s that one?’ I’d ask you, and the answer was always the same. ‘Bob, Bob and Bob!’ every time.”

Katy tilted their head thoughtfully. “I don’t remember that. But Bob’s a good name, maybe I should go with that.”

Not this again! I’m not ready, not ready to lose my little girl just yet.

“Maybe,” I replied, hearing the false cheer in my voice. “Although I never had you pegged for one of the sheep.”

“Baaaaaaa!” They stuck their tongue out at me, a small silver ball glinting.

I frowned. When did she – no, THEY get their tongue pierced? Christ, shouldn’t I know these things about my own kid?

I let it go. So difficult, treading the line between what mattered and what could be ignored. When did teenagers get so complicated?

Lindsey and Mom came down, soon the smell of bacon and eggs floated out onto the porch.

We all tucked in with gusto, I was pleased to see Katy having a second slice of toast without a fight. They’d grown so thin this past year. Hard to tell under all the baggy sweaters and ripped-up jeans, of course.

“What do you want to do today?” Mom asked. “The Simmonds have been renting their backfield out to campers – I think there are some kids about your age, if you want to go say hi?”

“Meh, they’re probably, like, VSCO girls or something.”

“Probably,” Lindsey said, with a twinkle in her eye. “You’d be better off staying here, pretty sure your grandma could use a hand mucking the goats out.”

“On the other hand, maybe they’re cool. I should probably go see.” Katy took a last swig of orange juice and headed out the door, grabbing their headphones on the way out.

The day was hot and Mom had a honey-do list a mile long, so by dinnertime I was sticky and grouchy. Katy still hadn’t returned and wasn’t answering our texts.

“Why don’t you go fetch her, love? You could drop in on Barbara and Keith, I know they’d love to see you.”

“No!” I answered hastily. “That is – shouldn’t I help you with dinner?”

“Nonsense love, Lindsey can help me. You go on down to the Simmond’s – and take them a gooseberry pie.”

I walked reluctantly down the gravel driveway, branching off after a few minutes, my feet following the shortcut I had taken so many times before. This is a mistake! I can’t do this!

I trudged on, trying not to look up as I reached the low wall around the edge of the farmyard. I knew the barn was to the left, felt it calling to me. I marched past, up to the house, ringing the doorbell and wishing I was anywhere else.

“Why, Caleb! I barely recognize you,” Mrs. Simmonds said, stepping back and ushering me through the door. “Don’t let the flies in, come say hi to your Uncle Keith! It’s been such a long time.”

Her kindness was agony. I followed her through to the parlor, setting the gooseberry pie down on the table. Mr. Simmonds was in his Lazy Boy, a shadow of his former self. Gone was the gentle giant who could lift me and Kai onto his shoulders at the same time while we shrieked with laughter. He had withered, dried up like a raisin, his laughter lines dragged down into deep crevices.

“Hello, son” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “It’s been a while.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Simmonds. We don’t get down here as often as we’d like, you know how it is.” My words hung hollowly in the air.

“Well, we’re mighty glad to see you now, aren’t we?” Mrs. Simmonds said, holding me at arm's length and looking me over with hungry eyes. “we met that child of yours earlier, quite the character, isn’t she? Refused to take her sweater off even though it’s 90 degrees out!”

Because of the scars – they have to keep their arms covered or people ask questions.

“Yes – they’re going through a phase, I guess you could say. Actually, I can’t stay – dinner is almost ready. I was just looking for Katy, do you know where they went?”

Not the barn, please not the barn…

“Oh yes! She’s over in the barn with the campsite kids, we let them build a fort in the straw. Remember when you and Kai used to do that – all those sleepovers in the hayloft, playing spies with your flashlights...”

Summer nights, eating candy we’d bought from the Merchant General, gobstoppers and gummy worms and sour cola bottles. Kai laughing as he shoved hay down my pajamas. Ghost stories and truth or dare, hide and seek between the stacked bales. Oh!

“Yes, we had some adventures, alright. I’d better go get Katy though, don’t want Mom to worry…”

“Of course, love. Do come back and visit, though. Maybe tomorrow? We could share this pie, it’s too big for me and Keith alone.”

She looks so hopeful. God, what’s wrong with you? Just say yes, it won’t kill you!

“I’ll… I’ll try, Mrs.. Simmonds. I don’t know if we have plans or not yet. But I’ll try.”

I walked out the door and over to the barn. So many memories inside this place. So many good times… before. I could hear children laughing and shrieking inside. I ought to be happy – how long since Katy laughed like that? I forced myself to look up at the hayloft, the shutters thrown open to let the breeze flow through.

Kai creeping into my sleeping bag that Autumn we turned thirteen, pulling his blankets over us against the cold. The fumbling, his hot breath in my ear… the way it felt when he touched me! Our hands exploring, oh God, the way it felt, falling asleep in his arms.

“Katy? Are you in there? It’s dinner time! We’ve been calling and calling you!”

The next summer, never apart – arm in arm heading to the millpond to swim. Lying on the warm rocks, drying in the pools of sunshine. Fishing trips and blackberry picking, sledding, and snowball fights… building Warhammer models in his parent's basement. And the way it felt when we were alone, in the dark. Our secret times.

“Katy! Come on, already! Don’t make me come in there!”

Giggling from inside the straw fort. Damnit, they’re expecting me to come get them.

The straw was piled almost to the ceiling in places, a small hole close to the top, the entrance to the play fort. I climbed the stack, feeling the straw scratch against my palms and knees.

The summer I turned 15, kiss chase in the barn with the other kids from school. Catching Lilly-Mae – her wet lips tasted of watermelon bubblegum. The way she looked in those shorts, her legs so long and tanned…

“Katy, this isn’t funny! Dinner will be getting cold.” More giggles, I climbed higher, following the sounds.

Making out with Lily-Mae inside the fort. Dark hay all around us. She let me put my hand inside her bra, the soft weight of her small breast warm against my hand. Then shouting from outside. Silas and Jackson, standing outside the tunnel entrance, holding a squirming Kai in a headlock.

‘He was spying on you, the dirty pervert!’

‘Ewww, Kai, that’s so disgusting!” Lily-Mae pretending to cry, tucking her shirt primly into her skirt. Kai’s eyes looking up at me, pleading. He wasn’t watching her, he was watching me.

‘Aren’t you going to teach him a lesson, Caleb? Can’t let him go perving on your girl like that!’ Jackson pushing Kai to the ground, everyone watching, waiting for me to do something.

The punch – my fist connecting with his face, blood erupting from his lip. His eyes – the hurt, oh God, what have I done? I want to take it back, want to tell him I didn’t mean it, only everyone’s watching. I can’t – I can’t.

Katy crawled out of the entrance, a big grin on their face, their black eyeliner smudged everywhere. “I can’t believe we never built a hay fort before Dad, it’s sick! You should come inside and have a look…” Their hood is down, pieces of hay in their spiky purple hair.

“Not now, we’re late!” I snapped, climbing down the stack and heading for the far door.

“We don’t need to hang out with this pervert, guys! Let’s go back to my place, I’ve got that new Mario game!” Kurt tells us, giving Kai a kick as he walks past. Lily-Mai stepping primly off the bottom hay barrel, spitting in his face. “Don’t come near me ever again, you freak!” She tells him, and his face, dear god, his face is white as a ghost.

“Can I come back tomorrow, Dad?” Katy asks, running to catch up.

Don’t look, don’t look at the beam, just leave, just leave, you don’t want to remember this… the way he looked, swinging in the darkness, so small, so alone… oh God!

I almost ran out of the door, back into the stifling heat and brightness.

“Are you okay, Dad? You’re acting weird.”

I’m sorry, Kai. I should have defended you. I should have stuck around. I let you down, oh god, I wish I could take it back. Tell you it’s okay to be different. I’m sorry, so, so sorry…

“I’m fine, sweetie,” I said, wrapping my arm around their shoulder as we walked back across the field to my childhood home. “But I’ve been thinking about your new name. What about Kai?”