Peace Love Resistance Read online

  There was no way Tristan came from this woman. This woman wore Prada, her nails were red, long, and shiny, her hair was bleach blonde cut stylish with long layers, her heels looked like they were lined in gold, and the bling on her fingers could cause Tristan to have a heart attack. Although beauty and sex appeal was certainly there, she was unquestionably fake. She had that look about her like some of the rich bitches from Cali, a better than you glare on her bored face. Watching the videos on YouTube of the two of them in action almost made me sick. Vanna Wise could hold her own though. She was tough and she knew her shit. Political stuff that I didn’t really care about. Nonetheless, I was entertained and could see how the two of them powered over the ratings. I’m not sure if they were acting or not, but they were really good together.

  My eyes finally closed just before dawn, but my sleep was anything but peaceful. First I had a nightmare about somebody taking Baby-T. It was bazar as hell. Guys in white robes were taking him away to circumcise him. Tristan screamed for them to stop, and then she dissolved right in front of my eyes, her body turning into sparkling glitter and then dust, falling to the ground.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Start telling the universe what you want instead of what you don't want.

  ~The Secret

  “Come in, T. Over.”

  With my eyes still closed, I searched the covers for the walkie-talkie. “Sup? Over.”

  “I made muffins. You coming?”

  “Muffins? How? What time is it?”

  “Solar oven. Come on. They’re apple and it’s after nine. Over.”

  I smiled, stretching my arms and legs with a grunt. Even with everything I’d just learned, I woke feeling refreshed, like the world wasn’t over. The sun still came out and Tristan and Baby-T were still across the river. For unknown reasons, that was enough for me. For now.

  After running inside for a shower, a fresh-minty breath, and clean clothes, I skated down the stairs, blowing my mom off on my way out the door.

  “Where’re you going?”

  “In the woods, be back later.”

  Five minutes later, I was pulling down the slope to Tristan’s camp on my bike, trepidation and all. What the hell was I supposed to say to her?

  “You said fifteen minutes,” she chastised, one hand on her hip, and a baby attached to her front.

  “I smelled really bad. You didn’t want me to come here before I showered. Trust me,” I said, my feet moving to hers, our toes meeting at the same time as our lips.

  She kissed me, speaking warm words to my lips. “Good morning.”

  An instant smile formed and the apprehension eased. “Morning. Smells good.”

  “They’re so good. I already ate one. You took too long. Want to sit in the sun?”

  No, I’d just taken a shower. I didn’t want to sit in the sun. “Sure, but you gotta hand over the baby.”

  Tristan beamed, her smile toothy and bright. I loved that look on her, eyes lighting up, full of love and happiness. Maybe that was the energy she spoke about feeling. It sure felt good if it was. She unfastened the pink strap and handed him over, a soft kiss to his headfirst. “You can have him for a little bit I guess.”

  I carried Baby-T to the meadow covered in daisies and sat. “Hey, T-man. You’re awake. Did you have an apple muffin, too. Huh? Did you? I think you did. I think you grew last night. You look bigger.”

  Trying to be cool, I wondered how to pry while talking to Baby-T, using him as a distraction. I waited until Tristan sat next to me and just said it, spitting it out before giving myself time to chicken out. “Hmm? This is delicious. How’d you say your dad died?”

  Tristan studied me briefly, but I kept my eyes on Baby-T and the magnificent view. “Um, thank you, and he died in a car accident or so they say anyway. I don’t buy it. I told you that. You never listen.”

  That caught my attention. “What do you mean? What happened?”

  “Why?”

  With food in my mouth, I shrugged “Curious.”

  She didn’t look suspicious like I expected and that made me feel better. A deep breath followed her explanation. “Clay is paid to be a slime-ball by some really bad people. They take care of him; he takes care of them. It’s a tradeoff for being an evil, heartless bastard. People of power only care about people of power. Not you, not me.”

  “How did Clay come into the picture?

  “He was the one who told my mom about my dad’s death. I think my dad was a part of something and—.”

  “What?” I questioned, my eyes wide and my heart beating out of my chest.

  “I don’t really know, but something. My mom told me once that he worked for Clay, but she’s blind of course. Blinded by the fame and the image. She would never really talk about it. She said Clay was helping him with is reporting career. He’s the one who got him the really good traveling job. I’ve tried to find stuff, but there just isn’t any. It’s like he didn’t exist. They covered it up, but I don’t know why. Even the coroner in the town he died in couldn’t help me. He said someone from the CIA took the body for autopsy; he didn’t do it. I just wish I knew, you know? Did he die behind his own wheel or did someone help him. I’ve been looking for his van ever since I took off and nobody seems to know what tow truck pulled it out, and no salvage yards within three hundred miles has it. I know it’s silly. It was probably crushed a long time ago. I didn’t really expect someone to remember, but it was hope. I was just hoping for a clue. It’s probably time to move on though, give it up and admit that I may never know.”

  I took another bite from the muffin to buy time, having no clue how to respond. She wasn’t hiding anything from me. I asked and she told. Now what was I supposed to go? Things like this didn’t happen in real life. This stuff only happened in the movies, not on Turkey Ridge. Not in small mountain towns in West Virginia. Eating my entire muffin, I searched my brain for a reaction. Nothing. I was blank.

  For a brief second, I was happy Tobias interrupted. “Oh, man. Baby-T,” I exclaimed, my arms straight out, gladly handing him over.

  “Oh no, you wanted him. You change him.”

  “Tristan, take him. It’s coming out the side. Shit, it’s on my hand. Come on, Mama-T. He’s your cub.”

  “Come on, I’ll teach you something.”

  I came to my feet with Tobias out in front of me, my gag reflex reacting to the smell. My God, he stunk for such a little guy. Following Tristan, I whined, truly needing her to take him. I wasn’t even joking. Puke was bubbling in the pit of my stomach, moving higher with every breath of baby-green-shit. “Tristan, I can’t change him. I’ll throw up on him. I swear, I will.”

  Tristan’s eyes lit up with her laughing outburst, her shoulders bouncing with amusement. “What if I can’t be with him? What if you need to step in and take over for whatever reason? It’s better for you to learn from me than on your own. Wash your hands and then get in here.”

  As soon as she said it, I got rid of him, happy to hand him over for the first time ever. I used a whole gallon of water and enough dish soap for a few hundred hands. “No way. I’m not coming in there. You do it. I’m good. Besides, you’re never going anywhere.”

  “If you don’t come and change this diaper, I’m not going to kiss you all day. And I’m not letting you have Baby-T either.”

  Something told me she’d hold true to her word. Me surviving without kissing her was virtually impossible, and I didn’t want to try it out. I rather liked her lips. A lot. Standing at the side doors, I cautiously peered in with a half-assed attempt to call her bluff. “Liar.”

  Her eyebrows rose and she sort of cockily tilted her head, a manipulative remark following. “You think?”

  “Come on, T. I can’t do it. For real. I can’t.”

  “Come here.”

  Against my will, I moved to the cot and sat in front of stinky, Baby-T. “Oh God, I can’t do it.”

  “Yes you can. Unzip his sleeper and pull his legs out.”

  “There�
�s shit everywhere,” I protested.

  “Yes, I see that. That’s why he’s lying on a towel. Easy. Watch so you don’t zip his belly.”

  With my head back and my nose snarled, I slowly slid down the little zipper, taking directions from Tristan.

  “Good. Now pull his legs out.”

  “I’ll get poop on me again.”

  “Probably. Nobody ever died from baby poop though. You’ll be okay.”

  “I’m not liking you a whole lot right now,” I admitted, my fingers grasping his little leg. One of them came right out, but of course the other one stuck. “His leg’s going to break.”

  Tristan, the only one who found this funny, laughed at me. “He won’t break. Good. Now you gotta open the diaper.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Do it.”

  Tristan guided me, step by step and I cleaned the little shit up, of course getting it on my hand again. “Oh man, Baby-T. Dude. You stink.”

  Tristan sat on the generic lawn chair behind the driver’s seat, her elbows resting on her knees as she continued to monitor me, trying to get this kid in a fresh diaper. She made it look way easier than it really was. “Want to hear something whacky, Ty?”

  “Everything you say is whacky, but enlighten me,” I teased, almost having this diaper thing in the bag. The silence between us pulled my attention from the sticky tape to her.

  Tristan’s fingers were laced together and her eyes were on her bare feet.

  “What’s up, T?” I questioned, concern in my tone heard through my own ears.

  She looked over to me, a half a grin and eyes I couldn’t read. “The first time you called him Baby-T was a universal sign for me.”

  Yup, whacky. I held up the tiny little shirt, wondering how the hell to put his head in it. “You expect me to put this thing on him. How so? What kind of sign?”

  “No, I’ll do it. I should probably clean the poop off his back first.”

  I frowned, rolling him to his side. Sure enough right there it was. Right above my clean, crooked diaper. Poop. “Whatever. What’s the sign?”

  Tristan moved around me and I stepped outside, speaking to her while washing my hands again. “I already knew you were sent to me, but I didn’t want to believe it. You’re so asleep.”

  “Yeah, we’ve established that a few times. I’m getting better. You have to admit that I am.”

  Our eyes met and we exchanged a smile when I peaked in the side doors, my hands getting an extra scrubbing. “You’re a work in progress, that’s for sure. Before you showed up the day after he was born, I meditated on you, asking for a sign, hoping this wasn’t real, that you weren’t the one.”

  “Gee thanks.”

  “Hey, being coy isn’t really my thing.”

  That was true. It was also one of the things I loved about her. Her honesty and open mind. “The sign…”

  “You called him Baby-T. That was my sign. My dad called me that.”

  For a second, I didn’t know what to say. It was sort of soul searing and I didn’t even believe in that stuff. Not really. “He did?”

  “Yup. I don’t remember it of course, but I have his tape. He says it a lot on there. Here hold him while I wash up.”

  Gladly, I took clean Baby-T, snuggling his soft head to my neck. A brief aggravation at her baby changing speediness was replaced with a sense of sadness. Tristan was being open, telling me things I shouldn’t already know, and that bothered me because I wasn’t being open and honest with her. I had her dad’s van, the one I’d planned on surprising her with in my barn and no clue what to do with it now. Everything seemed to explode all at once, and I wasn’t sure how much to tell her. One thing was for sure though. If I decided to finish the van, I had to tell her beforehand. That scared the shit out of me.

  “You said you’d kiss me if I changed Baby-T. I did.”

  Tristan walked to me, her eyes emitting the energy I loved and her smile sincere. “You need lots of practice.”

  I pulled her to me, closing our bodies in on Baby-T. Our meeting lips were halted while I assured her that wasn’t necessary. “You just do it. I don’t need to do that again any time soon.”

  “What if I’m not always here?”

  “You will be. Stop saying that. You’re supposed to be kissing me.”

  Tristan gave me a quick kiss, nothing spectacular. “Let’s go sit in the sun and soak up some vitamin D. Do you want another muffin?”

  “No, I’m going to change your tire, but that kiss sucked. A lot.”

  Not that it was a complaint, but Tristan was an expert at dramatizing her reality. Her fingers grasped the hair at the back of my neck, pulling my lips hard to hers, her mouth closed around mine, and our tongues danced. Pulses of tingling sensations filled a space in my chest that I hadn’t even known were there. I often found myself wondering if it was the energy she spoke of. Whether it was magical energy or not, it was something. Even being the skeptic that I was, I couldn’t deny it.

  “Better?”

  Winded and momentarily knocked breathless, I stuttered. “M-m-much.”

  And then she said the strangest thing anyone’s ever said to me and walked off, once again leaving me amazed. “I appreciate you, Ty.”

  I stared after her, repeating her words in my mind. What a weird, overwhelming, heartfelt thing to say. Not only had no one ever said anything like that to me, I’d never heard anyone say it to anyone period. Tristan loved with her whole heart and I’d never met anyone like her. Selfless in a special kind of way. Tristan emitted this admired venerability that made you want to be with her; made you want to live life and not just exist or go with a crowd.

  As much as it weighed on my mind, I couldn’t seem to do it. I couldn’t tell her about the van. Every day, I tried. Every day I continued to work on the van. Every day it came more and more together. Every day I saw her with the intention. Every day…I didn’t tell her.

  The day I decided to tell her was the day my dad was supposed to take the van to work for the final paint job. Four days before we were to leave. Everything else was done. Almost anyway. I still had to install the solar system, but everything else was done. All my hard work and hours and hours of no sleep had finally paid off, I hoped. On one hand the thrill of seeing her face when I showed her excited me, and I couldn’t wait, but on the other hand, I was terrified. Obliviously. Why else would I procrastinate so long? I needed to get it out, tell her and get it over with, yet I didn’t. I couldn’t. Every time I tried, something else came up, sometimes on purpose, sometimes not.

  Unfortunately, Mother Nature had other plans. We got a massive amount of rain during the night and most of the next day. Nothing was getting painted.

  “Seriously? You know I’m leaving in three days. You said you would do it,” I said, my voice rising with the anger.

  “The road’s covered down at the bridge. It’s under water. We’re not going anywhere today.”

  “That van will drive right through it. You know it will. You took me through the water there before. I remember it.”

  “It’ll get it done. Chill. I’m going to stay home and chase your mom around the house all day.”

  I stormed out of the house, shoving Kota out of my way with my knee and ran to the barn through the stupid rain, puddles splashing up the back of my legs. This pretty much ruined everything. The whole thing was done, the inside looked amazing, all decked out for her, and I was going to have to surprise her with a black van, a dull black fender, and a white hood.

  Smoking the very last of my weed, I sat on my makeshift bed and stared out at the rain, pissed off that it had to pick that day. Needless to say, weed fixes everything. I calmed within five minutes, feeling a little silly for being so angry and a lot guilty for being mean to Kota. He was the only one in the entire family who gave a shit where I even was. Other than trivial small talk, I hadn’t even talked to my mom in like three days. She suddenly decided to be in to remolding and decorating, blaming all that I had done on t
he van for the inspiration. Something to do I guess. Whatever.

  Debating on going across the river or to the van, I picked up the walkie-talkie and the binoculars. There was really only one thing left to do in the van. My plan was to wait until my dad brought it back to keep from answering questions. Depending on what Tristan was up to, determined whether or not I was going to try to disguise the baby bed in the back.

  “T. Come in, T. Over.”

  “Hey, I’m taking a nap with Baby-T. Either come lay down with me or I’ll see you later. Over.”

  I’m not sure how she thought the three of us were going to lay inside that van, but it did excite me. I couldn’t wait to show her our new bed. The one that slid from a four-person sofa to queen sized bed with the pull of a handle. She would no doubt flip her lid. Now, I just needed to tell her that it used to be her own dad’s. “You sleep. Radio when you wake up. Over.”

  With nothing else to do and losing two days that my dad needed the van, I decided to work on Baby-T’s bed. I just wouldn’t put the mattress in yet and pass it off as something else. What, I didn’t know yet. One by one, I carefully cleaned the spindles from the old crib from the attic, knowing without knowing, Tristan had once slept in it, or at least I thought I knew anyway. Regardless.

  I’d just gotten started inserting the pieces into the predrilled holes when my parents came running in, laughing and looking like drowned rats.

  My mom was the one to ask of course. “What’s that for?”

  I shrugged, making it up as I went. “I don’t know. I found them in the attic. I’m probably just going to put a top on it and use it for storage. To keep stuff from moving while I drive.”

  “I’m not sure I like this, Ty. I don’t know if I want you driving this thing by yourself like this. What if something happens?”