Chương 5
Ryan stared.
“Why would that scare him?”
“Because the truth he wanted you to hear wasn’t the same truth she would tell.”
There it was again.
No clean version.
No simple victim.
No simple villain.
Ryan kicked the overturned bucket.
It rolled twice and stopped against the post.
Walter let him.
“What is his version?”
“The tape.”
Ryan looked at the cap on Walter’s knee.
“Give me the key.”
“Not without your mother.”
Ryan’s anger came back, but weaker.
“What if she refuses?”
Walter looked toward the case.
“Then tomorrow morning I give it to you.”
Ryan narrowed his eyes.
“Why tomorrow?”
“Because that was his instruction.”
“Exact wording?”
Walter nodded.
“On Ryan’s twenty-third birthday, contact Lisa. If she comes, open it together. If she refuses, wait until the following morning and give Ryan the key.”
Ryan felt cold.
“My birthday was eleven days ago.”
“I know.”
“So you didn’t follow the instruction.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Walter looked embarrassed.
It was the first emotion Ryan had seen on him that felt almost ordinary.
“I chickened out.”
Ryan blinked.
Walter rubbed the brim of his cap between his fingers.
“I drove to your mother’s house on your birthday.”
Ryan’s throat tightened.
“What?”
“I parked half a block away.”
“You know where we live.”
“Yeah.”
“How long?”
“Long enough to feel stupid.”
“What happened?”
“You came outside.”
Ryan searched his memory.
His birthday had been a Friday.
He had worked half a day, come home, showered, then left around six to meet friends at a brewery.
He remembered forgetting his wallet, going back inside, his mother yelling that he was getting old because he forgot things.
He had laughed.
She made chicken enchiladas the next night because she worked Friday evening at the dental office.
“Did I see you?”
“No.”
“What did I do?”
Walter gave him a strange look.
“You took the trash out.”
Ryan almost smiled.
“That’s it?”
“Then you went back inside.”
“Big moment.”
“It was.”
“For you.”
“Yes.”
Ryan sat again, this time on the edge of the dock.
His legs hung over the dark water.
Walter remained in the chair.
“You could’ve just come up.”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Walter’s fingers tightened on the cap.
“Because when I saw you, you looked all right.”
Ryan frowned.
Walter shrugged faintly.
“You looked annoyed about the trash. You had music playing from your phone. Your mother called something from inside and you yelled back that you heard her. Normal house. Normal problem. I thought maybe Daniel had been wrong to leave the box.”
Ryan looked at him.
“And today?”
“You showed up for work.”
“That changed your mind?”
“You found it.”
Ryan glanced at the lifted plank.
“How did he know I’d find it?”
“He didn’t.”
“Then what?”
Walter’s eyes rested on Ryan’s work clothes.
“He knew if you turned out anything like him, you’d pull up a bad board instead of patching over it.”
Ryan looked away.
The sentence landed too neatly, and he resented it for that.
“I pulled it because it was rotten.”
“I know.”
“I’m a carpenter.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying you know things about me.”
Walter nodded.
“Fair.”
Ryan put his hands on either side of the dock.
The water below was nearly black.
“Did he ask about me?”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
Walter hesitated.
“That’s not a good answer.”
“Every year for a while.”
“And then?”
“Letters came less.”
Ryan nodded.
There.
That felt believable.
Not twenty-three years of perfect longing.
Not a father counting every day.
A man who wrote until life changed him or shame did.
“When was the last one?”
“Six years ago.”
Ryan’s chest tightened.
“What did it say?”
“Not much.”
“Was he sick?”
“No.”
“Why’d he stop?”
“I don’t know.”
“You didn’t ask?”
“I wrote twice.”
“No answer?”
“No.”
Ryan stared at the water.
“Maybe he finally got tired of pretending.”
Walter said nothing.
That silence felt more respectful than reassurance would have.
Ryan’s phone vibrated again.
MOM: Ryan?
Then:
MOM: Answer me please.
He stared at the screen.
Walter looked away.
Ryan typed slowly.
Storm is bad. Staying here a while.
Three dots appeared immediately.
MOM: Good. Please don’t be stupid.
He almost laughed.
Instead, he typed:
Do you remember Daniel Parker?
The three dots stopped.
No reply.
Ryan looked at Walter.
Walter saw enough in his face.
“She knows.”
Ryan’s phone rang.
MOM.
His thumb hovered over the green circle.
Walter stood.
“I’ll go outside.”
“No.”
“This is between you two.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Walter stopped.
Ryan answered and put the phone on speaker.
“Hey.”
His mother’s voice came too quickly.
“What happened?”
Ryan looked at Walter.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t do that.”
Ryan felt something inside him go still.
“Do what?”
“Ryan, where are you?”
“At a job.”
“Where?”
“You know where. I sent you the address this morning.”
There was a silence.
Not long.
Long enough.
“Ryan.”
“Say his name.”
Walter closed his eyes.
On the phone, Ryan heard his mother breathing.
Then she said, “Daniel.”
Ryan swallowed.
“Daniel what?”
“Parker.”
Walter looked toward the lake.
Ryan’s eyes burned, but no tears came.
“Is he alive?”
His mother did not answer.
“Mom.”
“Yes.”
Ryan’s jaw tightened so hard it hurt.
“Is he alive?”
“Yes.”
The room seemed to contract around him.
He had already heard it from Walter.
It was still different from her.
“How long have you known?”
“Ryan, please come home.”
“How long?”
“Your whole life.”
He pressed the phone against his palm.
Walter moved slightly, as if he wanted to intervene, then thought better of it.
Ryan said, “Walter has a box.”
Nothing.
“Mom?”
“I heard you.”
“He says you know about it.”
“I do.”
“He says it was supposed to be opened on my birthday.”
Her voice changed.
“Don’t open it.”
Ryan laughed once.
Walter looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because your father put it there.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is if you knew him.”
“Then tell me.”
“Not on the phone.”
May you like
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to do this while you’re standing in that place with him.”
