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  Remember

  by

  M. R. Claypool

  Remember by M.R. Claypool Published by M.R. Claypool

  © 2019 M.R. Claypool

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact:

  [email protected]

  Chapter 1

  The phone rang.

  The light of the screen pierced the darkness of the small bedroom. The light flashed in rhythm with the generic song that came with the phone and Johnathan Everleaf stirred with agitated restlessness as he reached for the phone. His eyelids fluttered against the light and it blurred his vision as he stared at the screen.

  His mother’s name flashed on the screen for a few moments, the screen highlighted in soft blue. His eyes flickered towards the time — three in the morning — before he answered. Stuffing the phone between his shoulder and head. His eyelids already whispering their sweet soothing call back to slumber.

  “Johnny?” His mother asked.

  He could hear the hint of panic and stress in her voice. He stirred in his bed, forcing himself to sit up. Leaning against the cold wood of his full-size headboard, the bed creaking with each motion. He really needed to replace the box spring when he got some free time and more money — money was always a worry.

  “What’s wrong?” Johnny asked.

  Though it was only met with silence for a few moments, he could hear her sniffling and attempting to compose herself. He rubbed his eyes and let out a loud yawn.

  “Johnny…Johnny it’s your granddad.” Eveline Everleaf said.

  Johnny felt the cold chill of the words run down his spine. He had expected the phone call for how long now. It was always in the back of his mind, each time his phone rang it sprang forward, ready to play out one of the countless scenarios that he had envisioned. However, as he heard the words, he found himself silent, his words stuck at the tip of his tongue like a gear had rolled down his throat and now rested uncomfortably in his stomach.

  “Johnny?” Eveline asked.

  “Yeah.” He said. The gear replaced.

  There was a three-hour difference between their time zones, when had his mother been told? How long did she wait to call him? These questions pushed themselves to the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them.

  “Is there any snow there yet?” Eveline asked, pulling him forward even without him realizing it.

  “It’s only October.” He said, rising out of his bed and walking to the window. Just to check. Outside his apartment complex the yellow lights glimmered on the wet pavement, it had rained, but it always rained in Seattle.

  “We were hit by freak snowstorm. Tony says he has never seen such a thing.” Eveline said.

  Johnny rolled his eyes at the mention of his stepfather. He had not known the man long before his mother had decided to run off and get hitched. Moving all the way down to Tennessee, she hadn’t called him in what must have been over six months. He knew that he could have just as easily picked up the phone, but something always stopped him. It told him to punish her.

  “They say I can’t get a plane out of here for a few days at the best. I need you to go back and handle everything until I get there.” She continued, even she knew he had rolled his eyes.

  He had heard her and yet it took a full minute to process. When was the last time he had gone home? He hadn’t seen his grandfather in over five years and the times that he did call him up the old man was hard of hearing and the phone call just brought his own frustrations to the surface until he ended the call early, with some poor excuse.

  “Do you know how he died?” Johnny found himself asking.

  “You remember Gretchen Olsen? She said she hadn’t seen him in a few days and went to check on him. The nosy bat she is. She said she found him propped up in his chair.” Eveline said. “Listen Johnny I need to go, make some other calls, but just be sure to get there.”

  “Yeah.” Johnny said.

  The call ended and he stood in the streetlight bathed bedroom. The full-sized bed clung to one side of the room with a small standup dresser beside it. No pictures hung on the walls — fear for losing his security deposit — easier to move if he should feel the need to. Though the need was always present, it clung to him like a thick molasses gel. A membrane that kept him from making friends or even getting emotionally involved with another person.

  Looking down at his phone again. Three-ten, it only took ten minutes for him to finally have a reason. Sliding it unlocked, he strolled through his contacts until he found his boss, Jamie Cox. Jamie was a short man in comparison to most anyone, standing at only five-two. However, he made up for it with a temper just as short.

  Johnny clicked the phone icon and he heard the phone ring, each ring Johnny wished that it would go to voicemail. A simple message would be enough, he could deal with Jamie’s temper after he had a few hours to stew on the message.

  “Hello? John do you know what time it is?” Jamie said groggily.

  “Jamie. I won’t be in today.” Johnny managed to get out.

  “Are you sick? If not, I expect to see you at the store in a few hours.” Jamie said.

  “My grandfather passed away and I have to drive back home to deal with the funeral arrangements.” Johnny said.

  “I’m sorry, John.” Jamie said. “Isn’t there another family member that can deal with this? I really need you on the floor tomorrow.”

  Johnny felt his temper rise at the notion, he had put up with Jamie for nearly five years and in that he rarely asked for time off or even called in sick. He felt indebted to Jamie for taking him under his wing when he was struggling, he still remembered his first car sale. The beaming smile that Jamie had given him, patting him on the shoulder and offering to take him out for a few drinks.

  “No, it’s always just been me, my mother, and my grandfather.” Johnny said.

  “Great your mother can handle this.” Jamie said as though the matter had been resolved. “Get some sleep John, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  The phone call ended, and Johnny threw his phone onto his bed. It skipped across his sheets like a pebble across water and hit the wall. Going to his closet he dug out a duffel bag —the only luggage that he owned — and began to shovel clothes into it.

  ***

  Johnny flicked on his turn signal as he passed another slow climbing camper that was making the climb over Snoqualmie Pass. The radio he had been listening to had been turned down as he kept both hands on the wheel of his Ford Contour as it groaned to even pass the old camper. Once he was free of the Seattle traffic, he had begun to make good time. Considering he had not traveled over the pass in some five years. Pine trees had replaced the imposing cement jungle that was Seattle.

  He had always enjoyed driving; it was a good chance to think or at times to not think at all. To absently lose yourself. The radio becoming the heartbeat of the road, it mattered little if the song changed it seemed to blur in this state of absent self.

  Finally passing the old camper, he flashed his turn signal and merged back into the slow lane. As a large black truck passed him, two large smoke pillars spilled out smoke as it rushed past him and took the next bend. He wondered if the truck’s owner felt better, that the little bit of power to overtake him allowed him some type of ecstasy. Johnny knew people like that, they came to the dealership. Their eyes always longing over some muscle car or truck, as their wives gawked over the new features of their new minivan.

  In some way Johnny always felt a bit of satisfaction when he made those sells. Maybe it was a way to make himself feel better for the lies that he rolled off his tongue. Convincing the wife that she needed that feature, that it would keep their child
ren calm. Look at that new mini television that was embedded in the headrest. No matter what, sell to mama. No matter how reserved or quiet they were, once you got on their good side, they almost did the sell for you, because they knew what they wanted the moment they stepped onto the lot.

  Johnny took his eyes off the road as he heard his phone ring in the passenger seat. Another call from Jamie, he stared at it for a moment before turning his attention back to the road. The phone stopped ringing and few minutes later he heard the voicemail jingle. This would make his fifth one since seven. He had to admit that Jamie was stubborn or maybe it was concern. Warning him if he did not come in soon, he wouldn’t be able to cover for him any longer.

  Though Johnny had known that they were messages of anger, the pasty white cheeks of Jamie filling with red stems of anger and shouting into his phone. Yelling at him, firing him. He did not care however; it had been coming. The years of lying had been burying themselves on Johnny with every new sale. Every time that one of his clients would come in and complain that the car seemed to pull to the right or that it had a flat tire and they expected him to handle it. It had become a never-ending river of lies. Did he tell Mrs. Clark he had children just like hers at home, even snatching up some random pictures of children from a quick internet search or did he tell Mr. Williams that he could guarantee that Honda Civic, he drove one just like it.

  The moment Jamie had hung up the phone, he had known that he was done. Forget his 401K, his paid vacation — he never took any time off anyways — and even his co-workers. Five years of his life had been drained into the company. His grandfather’s death just an excuse for him to finally leave. He sighed as he turned up the radio, listening to the radio host congratulating the tenth caller and telling everyone to stay-tuned for the next thirty-minutes of uninterrupted music. Which was immediately followed by a commercial, which made him change the station. Static filled the airwaves, a green state sign told him he was another five miles of climb before he reached the top.

  His mind wondered as he overtook another motorhome. Its white paneling had turned yellow over the years and the sticker of a cougar was peeling and sunbathed. He glanced at the driver for a moment, a nod between them was all they gave to the other’s existence before he had passed them completely and merged back into the right lane. Relaxing as he came into view of the old Summit Inn, its red roof a break away from the lush green pines. Five years ago, when he drove over the pass, it had already snowed heavily the night before and in the drive the red roof had supplied a relief to him as a break in the bleak snow-covered landscape.

  Loosening his grip on the steering wheel as he overlooked the vast overlook that the pass gave its travelers before it dove back into the mountain turns. He rested one hand on the door’s armrest, it would be another couple of hours before the pine trees and lakes were replaced with farmland and sagebrush. Hearing his phone ring once more, he took a deep breath and turned his blinker on and exited into the Chevron gas station.

  Parking, he sat as the phone’s ringtone blared in the now silent car. He did not look at the caller I.D. he knew it was Jamie again. This time it stopped short of a complete cycle. Grabbing his phone, he pressed the missed notifications, and the phone rang into his voicemail with a simple swipe of a finger. The automated voice telling him that he had five new voicemails.

  “John if I do not see in the next thirty minutes, I assume you are quitting.” Jamie’s voice railed just above his normal tone. Johnny could tell that he was struggling to keep his calm with each word.

  Pressing the keypad up he pressed seven to delete the message.

  “Hey, I know I was a bit rude this morning, but you know we are understaffed. The new guys haven’t even finished training. Call me when you get this message.”

  Seven.

  “John, I spoke with Barb about family leave and she says you get two days with proper notification. Call me.”

  Seven.

  “Listen here you little shit, I taught you everything. Don’t expect to come crawling back here. You are fired.”

  Seven.

  “John…”

  Seven.

  Johnny leaned back in his seat, tossing his phone into the passenger seat once again as he closed his eyes. It had already been such a long morning, and there was going to be more to deal with when he hit home. It wasn’t like there was anyone waiting for him, he could get a few minutes of sleep before continuing. Shutting the car off he pulled the lever for his seat to lean back further and folded his arms across his chest.

  ***

  “Come on Johnny.” Shouted Luna Stanfur.

  Her golden blonde hair tied into a ponytail as she waited for him down the imposing hill that went through the small town of Mcclocklin. Johnny squeaked off the brakes of his bike as he began to slowly coast down the hill. Gaining speed as he went, the wind sweeping into his dusty blonde hair, almost like he was flying. Before hitting his brakes again and whipping his back tire to turn before he hit the newly laid gravel in front of the train tracks.

  “Slow poke.” Luna teased as she kicked off to ride over to him.

  “You cheated.”

  “Whatever.” She said.

  They both gave off a small laugh as they rode beside each other. Passing what was once the old grocery store. It’s old stucco tan skin cracking along the top edges and the sidewalk overgrown with weeds. Whatever the old store was once called had been taken down before him or Luna were born. Spray paint tags were the only thing that gave the old building any sign of life. If there had been glass in the old window it had been replaced by boarded covers and the door bolted with chain.

  “Done with your chores?” Johnny asked

  “Nah. I still have to feed the chickens before mom gets home.”

  “I can help.”

  “The rooster chased you last time.” She giggled.

  Johnny flushed with embarrassment as he glanced at what his grandfather told him was once the local post office before it had been moved to the corner store. The wooden roof had caved in the previous winter and the counters were now covered in sycamore bulbs and thistle grass. Next the bank or that’s what Johnny had always imagined was there. The hole from the vault still shadowed the back of the building.

  One-time last summer he had managed to build up the courage to go exploring the old building. Its old floor had warped and creaked under each step as he came closer to the old hole. It clung to its darkness even as he got closer, the rebar twisted outwards like fingers ready to grab him with each step. He would never admit to Luna that he had chickened out only a few feet away from the pitch-black hole.

  “Johnny look.” Luna came to a stop.

  They watched as a couple of killdeers ran away from them. Remembering that his grandfather told him that if he could find their eggs, he should make sure not to touch them.

  “Betcha, I can find their eggs first.”

  Luna dropped her bike and slowly approached the two birds, her hands outstretched as she attempted to walk as quietly as she could. Johnny laughed as he kicked the kickstand and came to the side of Luna carefully. They spent the next thirty minutes looking through the gravel, but the birds lead them on. Even as they walked back, they found nothing.

  They rode back to the large road in silence. Luna glancing over her shoulder as she glanced at where the killdeers had returned to the gravel. Circling their hidden eggs. Past the post office, and the old grocery.

  “Do you want to hang out this weekend?” Luna asked

  “Can’t. Grandpa says we are going fishing. I can ask him if you can come.”

  “No. Mom won’t let me.”

  “Maybe Sunday?”

  “Church”

  Johnny came to a stop at the corner of the large hill. Luna stopping beside him and leaned in on him quickly and pecked his cheek before giggling as she rode off ahead of him in the opposite direction. Johnny stood there straddling his bike in shock before a smile spread across his face as he kicked off and chased aft
er her.

  ***

  Johnny pulled himself up in his seat as he readjusted it to sit up. Cracking his neck, he let out a large yawn, even with the nap he still felt tired. Opening his door, he exited the car and headed towards the station. Each step with his right foot brought him a tingling pain. He must have put too much pressure on the leg while sleeping. The air was brisk even as the sun now beat down on it overhead. Making him hug the windbreaker jacket. He hated the cold.

  Entering the station, he gave a small nod to the attendant. A middle-aged woman who continued to clean the heat trays. He went for the coffee first, even if he didn’t drink it often, he could not deny the caffeine in it at times helped him think clearer. Setting a generic cup — wrapped with pictures of coffee beans — he pressed the button on the machine.

  Turning his head when he heard the jingle of the door, he watched as what he assumed was a truck driver went to the counter and ordered a pack of cigarettes. He had quit smoking some six months back, at least that’s what he told everyone. The ones he bummed off his co-workers did not count; they were little victories for surviving the day. For not telling that last customer to shove it up their ass. Little victory sticks.

  Setting his cup on the checkout counter.

  “That going to be it for you, hon?”

  He glanced towards the Camel cigarette display.

  “Yeah that will be all.”

  “That’s going to be ninety-nine cents.”

  Ruffling in his pocket he pulled out a dollar and set it on the counter.

  “Keep the change.”

  “You have a good day hon.”

  Grabbing his coffee, he exited and stood a little to the side of the door. He could see his own breath and blew it out like he would cigarette smoke. Taking a sip of his coffee he winced at the bitterness. He forgot cream.

  Sitting back in his car he moved over the nearly empty water bottle that had been the only thing in his fridge and set the coffee in its spot. Starting his car, he turned the heat on high and waited for his window to clear. Taking small sips of the coffee as he waited. Looking towards the gas station he watched as the old middle-aged attendant came out from the front and lit up a cigarette. Little victories he thought with a small smile.