As he lies on his bed with his pillow crushing against the thoughts running so freely in his mind, Shane becomes aware of the soft creaking of stairs and the light swish of fabric against door as his granny enters his room. After looking around for a moment, she asks,
"My boy, are you alright? I've just come from Zach's room; it's empty. Even the sheets have been stripped."
He curls himself tighter at the mention of Zach's name. He doesn't turn to her, doesn't lift his face from its cushioned prison. So he mumbles the truth to her; his words are muffled by the pillow and echo softly against the bare wall.
"He left."
The answer falls flat and silence enshrouds the room, causing the words to repeat over and over in Shane's head. He left. Zach left. He left me.
Granny, wonderful as she is, understands immediately. She sits lightly on the corner of the mattress and simply rests her hand on her grandson's head. He sheds no tears but at her touch, his composure is broken, giving way to short, gasping breaths before he is successful in containing them and calming down once more.
What can she say in a moment like this? She is all too familiar with the sheer amount of love in her grandson's heart. It's almost endless, like the sea the boy has never once traveled to visit because it would take him so far from his loved ones.
She doesn't entirely understand why he does the things he does. But she knows she could never hate a decision that brings him the happiness for which he so desperately searches. While Zach was here with them, she caught a glimpse of that genuine happiness, different from his normal demeanor. For once, his carefree countenance seemed complete, like he had a real reason to experience such joy. She prays her presence alone will convey to him the message, I'm here. Your family is here. I know this fact is both enough and not enough right now, but we are here and we love you.
She may be old, but she is not so old she can't recognize a broken heart when she sees one.
"Come down to us when you can, dear."
Remembering himself, he takes her hand before she leaves.
"Thank you. I'm sorry, Granny, I…" he chokes on the words, unable to say more.
"I know, son." She bends to kiss his head and leaves him alone, closing the door softly behind her.
He doesn't come out of his room. All night he lays awake, and when dawn shows its face, he finally closes his eyes for a few moments of rest.
He wakes to the sound of crows. Cacophony, like a raising alarm, fills his head.
Had it been minutes? Hours? What day is it?
He rises and makes his way downstairs where he is met with Granny, already waiting for him. Zach said he would come see us one last time, didn't he?
"Shane, honey." She waits for him to stop and look at her. Wringing her hands together, she says, "He's already come and gone. He's already been here."
What?
His eyes are drawn to the side table at the base of the stairs. A fat envelope has been placed on its top.
"What is this?" he asks, pointing.
Granny shakes her head. "I didn't even notice it."
Perhaps a note after all. What would Zach have to say to him? He lifts the pointed lip.
Money.
Thank you for letting me stay. I hope this covers my expenses as well as any trouble I caused you.
He didn't even sign his name. Didn't even address this to him; it's for Granny.
Of all the things, he cries out in his mind, That idiot! He can't leave! Wait! He thrusts the note toward Granny. Almost leaving his legs behind, Shane stumbles toward the door and throws it open, launching himself off the porch and landing on the cobblestone walk, already mid-stride in his run. He reaches the road, passing one house, then two, and sees a small bicycle in a neighbor's yard. Without a thought, he grabs it, throwing his leg over the too small toy.
He has to see him. No, he has to kiss him one last time. He knows he can't change his mind but he has to touch him once more; he can't let him leave with such an insincere and horrid handshake being the last correspondence between them before he goes.
He races down the road, feeling like a fool pedaling so hard on a child's toy but unwilling to stop. Standing tall on the pedals, he reaches an empty bus stop. The bus is pulling away, slowly still, about to turn onto the highway. He rides after it with panting breaths. Finally, he is close enough to call out,
"Zach!"
A window is pulled down, and Zach's face appears without giving any indication of his emotions.
Shane rides harder, matching his speed with the accelerating bus. They are passing the wisteria bridge now, the bridge with such scattered memories. He pushes them down.
"I'll figure out what love is, I promise!" He feels like his lungs may burst with the effort. "I'll learn! I'll be better...I'll miss you."
His words are lost in the roaring engine of the bus. They've reached the orchards, marking the end of the humble town, and he stops pedaling, his determination fading into the passing trees as the bus gains speed and Shane's moist eyes tears turn everything the same blurry color of heartbreak. He can't bring himself to go any further. And even if he could, what then?
Shane's feet feel numb, and he screeches the bike to a halt, unable to stay upright any longer. He discards the bike and takes more steps toward the disappearing bus; he can't see through his tears that have finally decided to show themselves now of all times. He wipes them furiously and falls on all fours, unable to take another step. He can't bear to leave this place, even to follow the person who means more to him than his own life.
Heaving sobs overtake him as he faces the rough grass not at all like the grass so soft when they were together. He pulls at it again and again until a bald patch of earth stares back at him and he weakly pounds his fist into its judging gaze. Even his chest now seeming to be pulled low by an invisible rope trying to reel him deep underground. For a moment, the town seems like a prison, an abuser. His captor. He feels like its hostage.
His forearm hits the ground. He regrets everything, not just what happened that afternoon at the bridge, but everything. Everything, from the moment he looked up to see the well-dressed boy on the side of the road and decided to watch him, heart pounding, through that stupid hat. He regrets the first time their eyes met, so briefly it was a mistake, yet so powerful he would never forget the electricity.
He curses his hand for taking Zach's in the back of the old man's pickup, for touching him so casually, taking such pleasure in the boy's reactions. And he curses his lips for not being able to hold back against such a beautiful mouth as Zach's, for being so carelessly drawn in by his own curiosity and hopes of being accepted. He wanted it so badly and never expected Zach to want the same thing. When he realized he did, he didn't know whether to question it or accept it with open arms. He was in shock back then, but he welcomed the feeling. He assumed it was his lucky break, his miracle, provided by his town of Shanan just for him. Was he too selfish? Or was it Zach's fault for not understanding him in the end?
Then he falls to the unkind ground and curses himself for regretting such things, vowing never to have such thoughts again -not about Shanan, not about Zach- and to only think back on the short summer with fondness.
End Part One.