Dearly Departing by Geoff North (book reader for pc txt) 📕

too tired, too worn down, and too depressed to attempt it. He grabbed the big one by the back of the head and slammed his face into the table with all his strength. It was enough to break his nose and shatter a few teeth. It was also enough to knock him unconscious.

What Ray didn’t take into consideration was the speed of youth. Even drunk, they were faster than him. The first fist caught him on the side of the chin, staggering him back. A second punch went into his ribs. Someone struck him in the kidneys from behind. Ray went down to his knees. He could hear Dawn coming to her senses. “Dad? What the hell?”

He was punched again in the ear, and then square in the face. Ray’s head was ringing, and he could taste blood in his mouth. One more hit and he would be lying on the floor next to the bozo he’d knocked out. He swung blindly with one arm and connected with one of the pool player’s crotch. The guy pitched forward, cracking his forehead into another. Ray stumbled to his feet and blocked an incoming fist. He punched the kid in the chest and sent him back into an empty table. Three of the six were down. Three were left standing. Two jumped in and grabbed Ray’s arms. The third was about to attack when Dawn whacked him over the skull with a pool stick.

The lone female server was screaming somewhere behind them. “Break it up, the cops are on the way!”

The fight was over. Dawn, though drunker than the rest, could still move better than Ray. She directed him out of the bar and into the night. “Why?” Ray started to say and then spit blood onto the sidewalk. “Why did you end up here?”

“Stupid question to ask an alcoholic.” They started back for the hotel. “Are you okay?”

“Better now that you’re out of there.”

“Wow.” Dawn giggled. “Can’t believe my old dad fought a bunch of guys in a bar.”

Ray spat again and rubbed his lower back. “Not all that well, I’m afraid. I’ll be pissing blood for a week.”

She cleaned him up with a couple of white face cloths back in his hotel room. “You can forget about getting your deposit back.” She tossed them into the trash pail next to the bed. “The good news is your nose isn’t broken and you didn’t lose any teeth.”

“Stupid thing to do,” Ray muttered. “Fighting a bunch of kids.”

“Not as stupid as me getting drunk with strangers.” The walk and the cold air had sobered her up considerably. “I’m sorry. I swear, I’m done drinking. I’m done with all of it.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. If you just promise to try, I’ll be happy.”

Dawn nodded. “I’ll check into AA when we get back to Manitoba. It’s a start.”

“It’s a great start, Girl-of-Mine.” He paused for a moment and then asked. “Why there, why now?”

“I guess everything just got to me. No job, Tyler… what you told me about Aunt Alicia. It isn’t your fault, don’t get me wrong. I don’t need much of a trigger to set the bad habits off.”

“How do you really feel about that?” Ray asked. “About what happened to her.”

“I still don’t think any of it was your fault, but honestly, you should’ve told your parents.”

“I know.” He tried resting his face in his palms, but it hurt too much. “I’ve been paying for that mistake my entire life. Maybe now, before it’s too late. Maybe I can finally tell Mom.”

“Not a good idea. She’s dying. How would it feel if you were in her place?”

Ray considered it for a few moments. “Awful, I suppose. It wouldn’t be nice hearing your son killed your daughter.”

“You didn’t kill her. She was playing with matches in a pile of dry straw. It likely would’ve happened if you never showed up.”

“Maybe.” Ray sighed, and his entire body shuddered. “But it wasn’t the only time.”

“What do you mean?”

“I killed someone else.”

1983

 

Raymond’s family had survived the tragedy of losing Alicia. The pain was still raw, but they had survived. The trip to British Columbia the summer before had helped in the healing process. It had been good to get away from the farm for a few weeks. When they’d come home, the piles of remaining rubble where the pig barn once stood were gone. Neighboring farmers had pitched in with the machinery to flatten and bury it. A swath of new grass grew in its place and rows of colorful flowers had been planted. The memory of a daughter taken too early, a sister lost, lived on. Ray—he no longer liked it when people called him Raymond—would live with the memory of what really happened on the first day of summer break in 1981 forever.

Some people might believe losing one child would make parents cling to their remaining children more tightly. That wasn’t the case with Ray. He was thirteen years old. An official teenager. Nancy and Thomas Wallace gave him an even longer leash to play with. He could stay in town after school and pretty much do whatever the hell he wanted, so long as he went to his grandmother’s for supper no later than six and was ready to be picked up for home by nine. His grandmother didn’t even care how long he stayed after the meal was done. All she expected was good manners and someone to wash the dishes after they were done.

It was one of those Gramma visits in the early evening, sometime in October. It was a Friday. Ray had the whole weekend to look forward to. He’d been fed well and was putting the last of the old woman’s dishes away. She was still sitting at the kitchen table, transitioning from a fear talk of