Above the Hush Read online

  Above the Hush

  Jacqueline Druga

  Above the Hush - By Jacqueline Druga

  Copyright 2018 by Jacqueline Druga

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Paula Gibson and Shona M your eyes, your thoughts and help are appreciated more than you realize.

  Cover Art by Christian Bentulan

  www.coversbychristian.com

  1 – CUT

  Had I known his fate, I would have been kinder to him. Possibly not yelled, not been so mean. Had I known not ten minutes later he would be barely alive at my feet, I wouldn’t have told him to hurry. Maybe, though, had he listened to me, and not been so hard headed, he would have been in his truck instead of twenty-five feet above ground.

  I didn’t know his name, nor would I ever. All I knew was he was the man who was blocking my driveway and I had to get out.

  I suppose he was in some way a clear-cut message that life is short.

  I’m not a mean person. In fact I am pretty patient. I am that person amongst a plethora of cable company call center people that annoyingly keep their calm. Priding myself on being that person able to bring reason to the most unreasonable. Yet, there I was standing at the end of my driveway dropping a bag into the old pick up, looking at the utility truck blocking my exit.

  “Seriously?” I didn’t think it, I said it, but he didn’t hear me, he was up on the pole high above ground. His buddy stood in the middle of our low traffic, residential street beside the orange cones, waiting to wave traffic.

  When did they get there?

  I had made it home early from work, moved the cars so I could take my husband’s truck, went into the house to get my things, and when I emerged with the first load, a box of food, there they were working on the line across the street from my house, but their truck was parked right smack dab at the end of my driveway.

  “Excuse me,” I called out to the guy standing in the road. “Hi. Excuse me.”

  He looked my way.

  “Will you be able to move this?” I pointed to the utility truck.

  “This will only take a few minutes. It’s a simple maintenance job. Do you have to go now?”

  “No, but in a little bit.”

  He gave me a thumbs up. I took that as, ‘Yeah, sure, whenever you’re ready’ and I went back in the house.

  “Take it as a sign, Audrey,” my husband Ken said. “You aren’t supposed to go.”

  “It’s a truck blocking the driveway. What is your issue with this trip?” I asked.

  “You know what my issue is,” he said.

  Ken, like me, had taken a half-day of work on a Friday. Only his half-day was to be there with our two year old daughter, Molly. His mother, who usually watched our daughter had to drop her off early.

  I was focused on leaving.

  “This is a bad idea,” Ken said. “I really think you should reconsider.”

  Don’t get me wrong, Ken was a good guy. A hard worker, a good father, but he didn’t get it, he just didn’t get it.

  “And of all places,” he said. “I mean, I can see if you picked a KOA campsite. But you picked a place with no signal, no electricity, nothing.”

  “That’s the whole point.”

  “Aud, you have to leave your freaking phone in a box…”

  “Stop. That’s the rules, and again the whole point is to cut him off for three days. Three days, Ken. Not a long time.”

  “What if there’s an emergency?” he asked.

  “Then you have the number of the site director. He will come find us.”

  Ken knew about the getaway. I even talked to him ahead of time. It was my last ditched effort, my attempt to salvage something important to me. A friend at work heard about it. A camp, shut off from everything. That was what we needed.

  “Do you even know how to camp? I don’t think you have ever camped before in your life.”

  “I told you before, I don’t need to know how to camp. I just need to know how to light a fire to cook. If not, I have Sterno. Besides, I’m pretty sure Michael knows how to light a fire.”

  “Is he even going to show up?”

  There was my button and he pressed it. Angry, I grabbed the backpack, slung it over my shoulder and stormed from the house.

  I was pissed off, not because his question was a cheap shot, more so because it was a valid one.

  My son, Michael was from my first marriage and when his father and I divorced, he became my world. When he was younger, he was impressionable and our bond was unbreakable. I don’t believe there was ever a mother and son quite like us. The key word being ‘was’. Something happened on his road to adulthood.

  Bad friends and bad choices, and over the previous two years he slipped away. He’d call less. I never saw him and when I did, I didn’t even recognize him. Appearance or personality.

  He had just turned twenty-one and I was certain the local bar knew him better and saw him more than I did. At least it looked that way according to his social media.

  What happened to my son? Had I, as a mother done so much damage to him that made him so explosive I walked on eggshells. Treading gently because I just couldn’t handle not having him in my life. Yet, every day, because of his path, I worried he would slip from me and this world.

  This camping trip was the key. I believed that with all of my heart. I just needed him alone, away from his friends and away from whatever he was putting into his body.

  The two of us with no outside influences. I was sure I could get through to him.

  Of course, Ken believed Michael willingly agreed to go, he had no idea I bribed my son by paying his police fines. Between the camping and the fines, I would be taking from Peter to pay Paul, and creatively shuffling bills for some time.

  The backpack was my excuse to go outside and cool down, but when I tossed it in the back of the truck, I was far from cooling off.

  Both utility workers were seated on the curb. The Pole Guy ate a sandwich, while Flag Man smoked a cigarette.

  I put the pack in the truck and walked a couple feet to the curb. “Something go wrong?”

  Pole Guy looked up to me. “No. Just taking a break.”

  “Why?”

  “Excuse me?” he asked.

  “I mean, your buddy here said it was an easy thing a couple minutes ago. You’re taking a break so I figured something must be wrong.”

  “Do you need out of your driveway now?” asked Pole Guy.

  “No.”

  “Then …” he stood. “Find us when you do.”

  “Oh, good. I will. I just don’t want to interrupt your sandwich time.”

  “Lady, what is your problem?” he asked. “If you want to have electricity next storm, you’ll let me do my job.”

  “I did let you do your job, but you were having a sandwich,” I said.

  Then I believe he growled at me. “You know what, that truck will move when we’re done.”

  “Yeah, well you could have parked it five more feet away!” I shouted. “And I will call your supervisor if you aren’t down here when I am ready to go.”

  I spun on my heels and stormed back into the house.

  “Done unnecessarily fighting with the electric guy?” Ken asked.

  With a ‘hmm’, I walked over to the play yard where Molly sat. I leaned over. “Sweetie, Mommy is leaving.”

  She peered up to me and smiled. I kissed her.

  “Ken, don’t forget to plug in and turn on …”

  “The baby monitor, I know,” he finished my sentence.

  “She’s tw
o. She climbs out of the crib.”

  “I know. I’ll put it right next to …”

  My phone rang, I looked at Ken, lifted my phone, saw it was Michael and answered. “Hey, there. I’m getting ready to leave now, I’ll pick you up ….”

  I bit my lip and avoided eye contact with Ken.

  “Do you know how to get there?” I asked Michael.

  “Yeah, I won’t be far behind. I’ll take my bike,” Michael said. “I'm just waiting on my check so I can get some things.”

  “If it’s money …”

  “Audrey,” Ken said with warning.

  I waved him off. “I can …”

  “Mom, I’ll be there. I’ll see you then. What’s the big deal?”

  “Fine, I’ll see you soon. Be careful.” I hung up the phone.

  “He’s not gonna show,” Ken said.

  “He’ll be there.” I sought out my purse, found it, placed my phone in there and kissed the baby one more time. “I’m heading out. They like you to check in before four.”

  “The truck is still blocking you in,” Ken told me.

  “Yeah, well, he will have to get his ass to the ground.” I gave a quick embrace, darted a kiss to my husband and walked to the door.

  “Audrey…good luck.”

  “Thanks.” I forced a closed mouth smile and stepped out.

  I had all intention of actually switching my mood for the utility workers. It wasn’t their fault that I was trying to keep other parts of my life in order. Plus my father, had he been alive, would have kicked my ass for treating the workers like that.

  He worked for the electric company until he retired.

  After tossing my purse in the truck I walked toward the street, as I did the utility truck was backing up. I waved to the driver, then looked up to Pole Man.

  “Thank you!” I shouted up to him.

  He didn’t acknowledge me. He probably was still upset with me. I was far less than nice and even warned him to be on the ground when I was ready to leave.

  Before I knew it, he was …. Literally.

  No sooner did I turn around, I heard this odd hum. One hum, short and quick. It made me spin back around. When I did, Pole Guy ejected off the pole. He flew outward, the force of something threw him and he sailed down landing with a thud and a crack, his head smacked off the pavement, a foot from where I stood.

  I jumped back in shock, an immediate pool of blood formed around his head nearing the tip of my shoes. I moved back faster and farther, careful not to touch the blood, when I noticed he jolted steadily as tiny sparks of current swirled over parts of his body.

  His co-worker raced over.

  “Don’t touch him!” I shouted. “Back! He’s still hot!”

  It wasn’t that I was some sort of electric guru, I wasn’t. I instantly remembered all the horror stories and warnings my father gave me. I looked back toward the house for help. “Ken!”

  Ken was on the phone as he raced out. I could hear him giving our address and details.

  The other utility worker was freaking out. Grabbing his head, pacing in circles, crying out in shock and in sadness.

  I knew Ken’s softball things were in the truck behind the front seat. I opened the truck door, reached in, grabbed one of the bats along with a tee shirt and headed back to Pole Guy.

  I felt horrible. I wanted to help the man laying at my feet. I tried to keep it together, watching as he suffered, his skin slowly melting from the electrical current. His eyes stared up to me begging for me to do something. But I couldn’t. I knew it wasn’t safe, and that was confirmed when his co-worker ran back over.

  “No!” I tried to warn him. “Not yet.”

  Too late. He dropped down to help Pole Guy, the second he touched him he was zapped back. The charge wasn’t enough to render him unconscious, but it caused him a lot of pain. He sat on the ground holding his arm, falling apart emotionally.

  I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t even know Pole Guy, his name or anything about him, but the sight of him ripped through me.

  “Help’s on the way,” Ken said. “Oh, God.”

  Holding the bat, I lowered it to Pole Guy. I didn’t see any more sparks or current and I lightly touched him.

  “Aud,” Ken called my name.

  I shook my head, and with the tee shirt wrapped around my hand I knelt near Pole Guy. Carefully I reached to him.

  “Aud.”

  “It’s okay. Check the other guy.” I brought the tee shirt near his head and peered down at him. I knew the shirt would do nothing for his bleeding or his burns. It was a mere gesture.

  The poor man convulsed, yet he kept staring at me. He made this moaning noise, maybe an attempt to talk, I didn’t know.

  I felt helpless. People gathered around, sirens blared in the background and all I could do was a vain attempt at care as he stared at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered to him. “I am so sorry.”

  2 – TOLD YOU SO

  My attempt to get to Gridlock Camp Resort early was unsuccessful. I was delayed another two hours. Ken, of course, used the tragic events as my reasoning not to go. As horrifying as it was, I made plans to go away with my son and I was going to do so.

  I called Michael on my way and he didn’t answer. He was either on his bike or ignoring me, so I left a message.

  I ran into traffic on I-64, but it wasn’t much. Sadly, there was no other way to get there but that highway.

  When I found out about Gridlock I took the hour and a half trip there to check it out. The owner who also managed and lived on the grounds was a pleasant man, not much older than me, named Charlie. I found it funny that he ran this unique, off the grid camping resort and the check-in cabin, his house, located about a mile walk from the site, had Wi-Fi, cable and phones.

  When I arrived, there were a few cars in the parking lot and I saw Michael’s bike.

  My son was seated outside the check-in cabin smoking a cigarette, wearing a knit beanie. I didn’t get it. It was hot out, why was he wearing a cap?

  He stood when he saw me unloading the truck.

  “Hey,” he said and kissed me on the cheek. “You okay? I got your message.”

  “It was horrible.”

  “I bet. I don’t know why you still wanted to come.”

  “Because we need to do this.”

  “No, mom, we don’t. You do.”

  I wasn’t going to respond to that, I asked him to get the stuff from the truck while I checked in. He agreed and I walked to the cabin. Outside were these lockers that reminded me of the ones at a bus stop. I went inside and Charlie was seated at his desk watching the news on his computer. I thought it was the news, it could have been videos, it was hard to tell if it was live or something on YouTube. He was engrossed, it was a news report, I caught a momentary glimpse of a news banner and the word ‘India’.

  I didn’t really look after that, I didn’t want to deal with the news. Nothing bad. Not after what I experienced.

  Charlie attention was half between me and the news. He handed me my locker key, then gave the speech, if there was anything I needed… blah, blah, blah.

  “You’re in spot four. Once you get down the path, go right. You’ll see the sign. Any fires you light, make sure they’re out. If you heat water, you only need to do it in the morning.”

  I thanked him and stepped outside, sending one text to Ken to let him know both me and Michael were there. Once he replied, I shut off the phone and put it in the locker.

  “You putting yours in?” I asked Michael.

  “Why?”

  “The whole point of this place is to be off the grid. Putting your phone in here takes away the temptation of using it.”

  “Why can’t we use it?”

  “It’s just the thing of the place…” I said. “Plus there’s no signal or Wi-Fi.”

  “So why lock it up?”

  “Whatever, Michael.” I slammed the locker and put the key in my pocket.

  “Why are you getting mad
?”

  “Why are you being so difficult?”

  “I don’t want to lock up my phone like you. Big deal.”

  We were off and running.

  The place was considered off the grid, but it was far from roughing it. Sort of like the upper class version of survivalist camp. The mile hike path was well paved, it would be dark at night, but well-lit and safe during the day. The path led to different camp areas. Each camp area was semi-private, even though you could see the neighboring camp.

  Every camp had an already erected igloo style tent with two cots and a Porta John. They supplied the lanterns, a firepit with a cooking grate, well water and a five gallon wood burning water pot for hot water.

  I thought Michael would like it. I really did. He didn’t want to explore. He was hungry. While I made dinner, he played with his phone.

  He claimed it was a game, but I could tell he was trying to get a signal. He kept trying as if suddenly it would happen.

  As the hours passed he grew more and more agitated. He bitched about the tent, the area, how he probably didn’t even have enough gas to get back. When his phone died, furious, he threw it in his bag.

  After that it was game over.

  I tried, but it was useless.

  I didn’t want to get right into talking about what was going on with him, what I could do to help. I had a whole playlist of things in my mind I wanted to say, but we were there all weekend. If I could just get him to relax, just hang back and talk, I knew we’d start working on things.

  My son was a mess.

  He had lost three jobs in the same amount of months, his longtime girlfriend and all his old friends. Two court hearings were on the horizon and although he wouldn’t admit it, he was destroying his body with whatever he was putting into it.

  I should have listened to Ken.

  Michael’s problems were not mine. They were his to make and his to solve. I was his mother, I wanted nothing more than to help him. But I couldn’t help someone who didn’t want it. No matter how much I loved him.

  His mood grew sourer as the night moved on; he fidgeted and paced. He spoke to me like I was overbearing and ridiculous, mocking my emotions.