The Long Dark by Billy Farmer (best book club books for discussion .txt) 📗

When I started hanging out with Avery in the sixth grade, he offered a refuge, or, well, his parents did. We were the odd couple. His parents were well off, and my parents, well, weren’t. Most parents who lived in a neighborhood like theirs would’ve been leery about their son hanging out with someone from the trailer park. Maybe what made the difference was that our trailer park was called Palm Villa? That sounds like a nice place, right? It wasn’t. They never judged me for living there. They treated me, to my mom’s dismay, just like one of their own.

I was introduced to Star Wars, Star Trek, and all kinds of shows with the word Star in them. I wasn’t entirely receptive to begin with. “What the fuck is the hairy dude, and how the hell do they understand what he’s saying?” I’d ask. Besides having a dirty mouth, I didn’t have much of an imagination about things, that was for sure, but I loved it there. I even came to appreciate science fiction, even if I didn’t always understand it or relate to it in some apparent way.

Looking back at it now, there was this odd duality that existed at the time: Mom's notion of reality, what life was going to be no matter how hard you tried or strived; and the world of make-believe, the world that mom couldn’t ever imagine for herself, much less for her children. Even with Avery's disability, his parents never told him what he couldn't do. They focused instead on what he could do, which was anything he wanted, even following the trailer park kid around the world drilling for oil.

Some of that optimism rubbed off on me. I suppose that’s some of why I left Indiana to begin with. I wanted to find the world I could create, not the world that was predetermined for me. Sure, I struggled with old ghosts, had bouts of being a terrible person, and sometimes just plain sucking at life, but I finally found who I wanted to become once I settled into a normal life in East Texas.

Having Avery there only sweetened the pot. He was my best friend, and I loved him more than I did my own brother. The circumstances that led him to Texas weren’t good ones. Under different conditions, Avery and I would’ve parted ways after high school. He would’ve become a hugely successful tech guy, and I would’ve stayed the normal guy I had always been. But life has a way of throwing a monkey wrench into the lives of good people – even good people who happened to be as wealthy as Avery’s parents. It had to do with his sister and dad, but that’s another story I’ll save for another time.

So, life in Texas had been going well. Hell, I’d almost go as far as saying I finally had life figured out. I was even beginning to understand the demons that haunted me. But there I was in Barrow, feeling like I was back at Avery’s watching Star Wars again for the first time: Like I was grappling with two different worlds all over again. Except for this time, the world did seem to be intractable and preordained: just like mom always said it would be, but with a huge fucking twist.

Avery rubbed his bitten hand, oblivious to everything around him except the dead body on the floor, and the dire uncertainties inextricably linked to it. The body was exacting a psychological toll on Avery, and it needed to be moved away from him as quickly as possible.

I placed my hand on his shoulder. He flinched, looked up at me, and diverted his attention back to the body. “You’re going to be okay, bud, I promise.”

Never taking his eyes off the Gray, he nodded absently.

“Titouan.” I flicked my chin towards the guy on the floor, insinuating that I needed help moving his body.

He thought about it for a second before walking over to the body. We drug it over to the corner of the building, as far away from Avery as the square footage allowed. I grabbed one of the other tarps still lying on the floor and began covering the body with it.

“Should we?”

“Should we what?”

“Should we, you know… stab him in the head?”

Fifteen hours ago, I would’ve laughed. Fifteen hours later and almost anything seemed possible. “I don’t know.” I rubbed my cold, glove-less hands together, trying to create enough heat so I could feel my fingers - so I could feel good about something. “Tish should have a knife in her bag. See if she’ll let you use it.”

By the look on his face, I think he thought I was going to do it. He brought it up, though. If he wanted to do it, I wouldn’t stop him, but I didn’t want any part of it. He nodded that he'd take care of it. I nodded in return and walked over to where Tish worked on Sam.

From my vantage point, it was hard to see just how severe his injury was, but considering it needed several stitches, it was safe to say it was bad enough. The Gray had to be strong as hell to puncture through three layers of clothing like he did and still do that much damage. I would’ve asked Tish how bad it was, but it didn’t seem like very good bedside manner to do so.

In between stitches, Tish wiped her eyes with her coat sleeve. She was a mess. We were all stressed and scared but Tish seemed to be most affected. “You got a second, Tish?”

She nodded and said, “Almost finished.” She wrapped the bandage around Sam’s leg, wiped her face, and walked over to where I waited.

“You okay?” I asked.

She gave me an odd look. “You expect me to be?”

“I just wanted to say sorry about Tom. If I could’ve done something, I --”

She interrupted me before I could finish. “Can we