Shadow Man by Cynthia D. Grant Page A

elaborate frown.
    Gabe called the next day. He’d said, “I’m sorry, honey. I’m sorry I’ve been acting so crazy. It’s just that I’ve got a lot on my mind, with the baby and everything.”
    â€œIt’s the beer,” I said. “You’ve got to stop.”
    â€œI wasn’t drunk last night!”
    â€œNo, but you’d been drinking.”
    â€œJust a few brews. What’s wrong with that?”
    â€œYou can’t handle it,” I said. “You’re an alcoholic.” That was the first time I’d let myself admit it.
    â€œThat’s ridiculous,” Gabe said. He joked about it; the problem wasn’t him, it was all in my head. “You never want to have any fun,” he said. “No wonder you want to be a teacher.”
    He came by after supper so we could go for a drive and talk. We were going to let Jack run on the beach. We never got that far. We started to argue. Gabe was scary. I’d never seen him so angry. I thought he was going to hit me.
    He said an alcoholic was someone old like his father, or someone who drinks hard liquor, like David. Not someone like him, who enjoys a few beers. He said I was just making up excuses so I wouldn’t have to marry him.
    â€œThat’s not true!” I said. “Why won’t you listen?”
    â€œâ€™Cause you ain’t the voice of God!”
    He pushed me out of the truck. He’d never hurt me before. I could feel his hands on me long after he’d left. He looked like Gabe, but he’d become someone else. Someone I didn’t know.
    If you hate life so much, why don’t you just blow your head off ?
    I play the scene in my mind, again and again, rewriting the lines for a happy ending. I should’ve held him tight and never let go. I should’ve said: You are a wonderful person. I should’ve told him: I’ll always love you, but I won’t live your mother’s life. You’re losing me. Time is running out. Save yourself: Gabe is dying.
    I said all that, so many times. He never really heard me. The other voices in his head were too loud: the screams and shouts, the little boys crying. The past always drowned me out.
    I can’t think anymore. I want to fall asleep and rest forever on the breast of the sea. The world could be so lovely if it weren’t for people. We’re cruel and greedy. We hurt each other. I hurt so bad. It has to stop. I’m sorry, little baby. Please forgive me, for bringing you here and then taking you away.
    The air is thick with spray. Jack is pacing, worried.
    â€œGet out of here, you idiot!” I point to the beach. “If you don’t leave now, it will be too late!”
    Too late. He looks sad. He leans his head against my leg. I bury my fingers in his thick coat and touch the leather collar Gabe made. The waves break in a white ring all around us.

36
    Francis McCloud
    I’m doing what I should’ve done a long time ago: I’m getting the hell out of this town. Everybody hates me. They’ll be glad when I’m gone. They say, I’m sorry about Gabe. Or: How’s Katherine taking it? Or they don’t say nothing. They turn away. What do you say to a man who’s lost his boy?
    My boy is gone! I can’t take it. It’s like God’s killed me, then woke me up so I can die again, every day. I could’ve sworn Tom saw me when I drove by the store, but he didn’t even raise his hand. We’re talking about his nephew! His sister’s baby boy! And he looks right through me like we don’t mean nothing! He hasn’t even picked up the phone!
    I’m going to drive down the highway till I get to San Diego, or maybe even Mexico. I’ve got to keep going, I’ve got to keep moving, ’cause if I don’t keep moving, I’m drowning.
    Why is he dead? He was such a good kid! He could’ve been something. My son! He’s not a bum like David or