Regan Wolfrom - After The Fires Went Out - Coyote

“There’s no way to be sure of that,” Graham said.

“Listen to me for once. I know what I’m talking about. You’re not the one who’s actually had to do this kind of thing before. This isn’t a game, Graham. You have no idea how any of this shit goes down in real life. So don’t start acting like you can even have an opinion when it comes to keeping us safe.”

Graham didn’t back down. “You’re gambling with the lives of every person in this house. I don’t know what you want out of all this, but I actually want to live through it. I’d like a chance to start a new life or something, you know, raise a family…and I’m not going to throw it all away because you want one last chance to relive your glory days.”

I dropped my dish towel and left the kitchen, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to stay another minute without punching him out.

Sara found me before I’d dressed to go outside, and by the time the two of us were out past the barn I’d told her everything, about the Girards, about Natalie and Tabitha, about Graham. She didn’t say she agreed or that she disagreed with anything I’d said. She just held my hand and listened.

As I talked I felt like I was a child again, back when I would get so upset about something that I could barely breathe and I couldn’t even talk, my whole body heaving as tears would run down my face.

And I realized I was crying, because I knew that everything was falling apart. We’d lost Ant and I'd killed Marc, and now we had two less people to face an enemy that would come for me eventually. That was assuming that we’d only stay two down, that we wouldn’t lose Graham, too, that he wouldn’t pack up and leave, taking Lisa with him. And maybe taking everyone else, too.

But then I found that I was crying because I missed my old life, where I got to be an asshole just for kicks, not because I was trying to keep people alive.

I don’t think I can protect this so-called family anymore; even if I’d been there in Toronto, crouched by the front door of our townhouse with a baseball bat, telling Alanna and Cassy to keep the noise down…even then I wouldn’t have been able to save my family from the chaos that would swallow them.

I’ve spent so much time blaming everyone else for being trapped away from home, blaming travel restrictions and fuel shortages, like those were the things what kept me from saving my daughter and my wife…but the truth is so much easier to understand: I just didn’t have it in me. I wasn’t the hero, or even a good father, and I was certainly never a good husband. I was just a fool who liked telling people what to do. And I was angry with Graham because he’d finally grown enough of a backbone to point out what a phony I’d become.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I said.

Sara gave me a hug and kissed my cheek. “Don’t believe your doubts,” she said. “You can’t trust yourself right now…you can’t listen to anything your mind is telling you. Listen to me instead.”

I didn’t interrupt.

“You are a good man,” she said. “You’ve saved the lives of over a dozen people. You led us to make this home together. It isn’t your fault that Ant is dead, and at least he lived his last year with his new family and not by himself. And Marc Tremblay's death was an accident, no matter what you think you did. And what happened to Zach Walker, to the Marchands and the Girards…there was nothing you could do. And the rest of us are still here, Baptiste. What do you think would have happened to us if you hadn’t been here?”

“You would have figured it out.”

“That’s not true. You know it’s not true. You’ve seen what the Walkers wanted me to sign. Ten years of service. And they wouldn’t even take Kayla because of her goddamn ex-boyfriend.”

“You never mentioned that ―”

“I guess there was that stranded work crew near the airport, but they’d only take us girls, and only if we didn’t mind spending most of the time on our backs in trade.”

“Those idiots didn’t last long…”

“And I’m sure the Tremblays and the Porters would have tried their luck on the highway if we hadn’t have helped them.”

“Now that’s sad.”

“Yeah, yeah…but what about Fiona? If you hadn’t taken her on, where would she be? She was fourteen years old, Baptiste…no parents, no friends. She wouldn’t have had a chance.”

I shook my head.

“Don’t bother arguing with me,” she said. “I know you don’t agree with me right now. But all I want you to know is that I’ve always believed in you, and that doesn’t go away even when you’ve lost faith in yourself. You’re our best chance by far, Baptiste. I’d say that’s obvious to everyone but you, apparently.”

I knew she meant it.

I leaned in and gave her a kiss.

“We should get back,” she said.

By the time we’d come back to the cottage the dishes were done and everyone had gone about their evening routines. It was like nothing had been said.

Lisa glared at me, though, so I knew that Graham had already talked to her. Lisa doesn’t believe in hiding her feelings. That’s something I’ve learned to respect.

Neither of them said anything to me.

Matt and Kayla seemed to be avoiding me, too, while Fiona seemed oblivious to all of it as she sketched in her notebook.

It was all for the best. I was still upset, and I knew that the anger would come out either in tears or in blind rage. Crying in front of everyone was not something I was willing to do, and I couldn’t afford the other.

But at the same time I know that I need to make Graham understand. He needs to know that there’s no room for discussion when it comes to our safety.

It’s my responsibility…it’s my decision to make.

I went upstairs with Sara. The two of us laid together in bed, Sara with her reader and me with my tablet, writing an entry in my journal that I’m not sure how I should end.

At least I have Sara.

Having her beside me makes this bearable.

Today is Thursday, December 27th.

Ant wrote this last August:

It’s hard for a guy like me to talk about love; I’ve spent my time on this earth in pursuit of a full variety of the storied Canadian beaver, and truthfully, falling in love gets in the way of that.

But love is something that sticks with you, like a bad cold or genital herpes, and sometimes it gets even worse as time goes on. Sometimes it won’t go away no matter how much you want it to, no matter how much time you spend fapping to other girls.

I miss Natalie. It was impossible being with her, after being with her sister for so long, but that doesn’t really change anything for me. I think she misses me, too, not that we can send each other texts or try to run into each other at the grocery store. We might as well be a thousand kilometers away.

I left the Girards without any time to pack or really say goodbye; all I had time for was to tell Natalie that I loved her. She smiled in that way she always did when she heard my normal bullshit; I don’t think she understood what kind of love I was talking about.