Chapter 2 – In it together
We drove, pushing the truck as fast as she could, for a good hour before I felt we we're safe to slow down to speeds within the confines of the law. And it was another half hour before I saw a visible shift in Jake.
As we'd traveled through the forest, Jacob had seemed to keep watch out the window. His eyes never stopped searching into the darkness. It wasn't until we left the boundary of a neighboring tribe's reservation— the Quinault people— that Jake sat back in his seat, his head falling wearily on the headrest.
"You want me to drive for a bit?" he asked as we crossed over a boundary river of some one-horse town. The metronomic da-dunk, da-dunk, of the tires against the wooden bridge was lulling me and my tired eyes into rest.
It was an ungodly hour of the night and my recent poor sleeping habits from nightmares and general self-wallowing was taking its toll. I'd been running on adrenaline initially. But I was finding it harder and harder to stay awake in the warm, quiet cabin once things had calmed, and once Jake seemed to be less worried from whoever he thought might have been following us.
I pulled into a deserted rest spot, killing the engine and letting the absolute quiet wash over me. I hunched back in my seat, my head low, and my hands heavy in my lap. I looked up at Jake, my eyes meeting his in the moonlit darkness. "Did we just run away from home?" I asked, the outrageous question on my lips.
"Yeah Bells," he grinded. His smile reminded me of an innocent prisoner who, falsely charged and interned, had finally been released from his bounds. "We did."
…
I woke some time later, a crick in my neck from where I'd been leaning on Jake's shoulder, and with sunlight beaming through the windshield.
"Morning," he smiled, looking down at me over his broad shoulder.
I sat up, looking around, my eyes squinting as the morning sun glinted off water of some kind. "What time is it?"
"Seven," he answered as he indicated and pulled off the road and into a gas station. "We're just about on E and I'm starving." He wrenched on the park break and jumped out of the truck. "I hope you've got some money in that duffle or we're fucked."
"Where are we?" I asked, ignoring his potty mouth and opening my door.
"Long beach," he answered, as he fetched the duffle from the back for me. "I saw a sign, the bridge over to Colorado is only another twenty minutes."
A gruff voice yelled from the garage shop. "Hey!"
I looked up to see an older man in the doorway to the shop. He stood with his white beard and un-pressed polo shirt, the corners of the collar curling up at an ugly, slovenly angle. He pointed to Jake. "No pumping without shoes!"
Jake looked over his naked shoulder at the man, before turning back to me and rolling his eyes. "You wanna do this?" he asked, holding the nozzle out.
I looked at the old, grumpy man, then over to Jake… who was bare foot and shirtless still. Then I looked down at myself… at least I had shoes on. They went well with my polka dot pajama pants.
Rubbing a little sleep from my eye I took the nozzle, and waited for the pump to start.
"Seriously though," Jake asked, leaning against the side of my truck— I really didn't see how him standing two feet from the pump barefoot was any different to pumping— "Have you got any money? "I'll pay you back. I just really have to go get some breakfast, and there's no way in shit I'm buying anything more than fuel from this asshole," he said, flicking his head back to the spot where the man was standing, still watching us like the pair of no-good runaways we were.
"In the side zip," I said, nodding to the duffle. "I've got a few hundred, but we're gunna need to get to a machine sooner than later, I wonder if there's one inside." The combination of birthday money from my mom and the stash of dad's emergency cash I'd taken from the empty Nesquik tin in the pantry before we'd left wasn't going to last us long. "And I've got to call Charlie." I tapped the pump handle a few times, still waiting.
I looked over to the attendant, wondering if he needed to flick some kind of switch or something. "Excuse me!" I called. "It's not working."
"Ya gotta pay first," he clipped back, pointing a grubby, stubby thumb over his shoulder.
I sighed, shoving the pump back in the saddle. "Sheesh, you think he could have said something earlier."
Jake had the little fold of cash, his fingers skimming through the shambolic assortment of fifties and twenties, a few too many tens in the mix for my liking. "Can I have ten, maybe twenty?" he asked, holding out a Jackson.
"What?" I asked as I took the rest of the cash as he handed it to me. "Of course you can, Jake. You don't have to ask. You've literally got nothing to your name right now, not even the shirt on your back. Take whatever you need, Jacob," I said taking a fifty from the wad, and pressing the rest back into his hands.
I looked up into his soulful, deep eyes. "We're in this together, Jake; you realize that? Don't you? What's mine is yours. And what's yours in mine, including the money we have, including this mess you're in at home, including breakfast. We'll figure all this out together."
He looked down at me, his eyes were glassy as he seemed to think something over. "I love you Bells," he whispered, "thank you for doing this for me."
"What are best friends for?" I smiled, grabbing his warm dry hand and giving it a light squeeze.
We stood for a moment, in the middle of the Texaco by pump number two and reaffirmed all that we'd silently declared last night. That we were there for the other, that whatever was happening to him with Sam's gang was massive and that I still needed to figure what exactly this thing was. And that the hole in my chest, that Edward's absence left, was just that little less raw every moment I spent with Jake—my own personal sun.
"I think there's an IGA down the road, I'm gunna just run up there and see if they're open yet. You want me to get you something?" he asked, backing away.
"I'm easy," I shrugged, "see what you can find."
He raised an eyebrow at me, a cheeky smirk lifting on one side.
"Shut it, I'm not the one running around a strange town, half naked."
He slipped another ten from the wad, handing it back. "I like the shirtless look," he smirked, tensing a little for my benefit. "But I am gunna get a pair of flip flops, if they have 'em in my size, in case the fucker tries to stop me from checking the oil and water when I get back." He winked at me before he turned and set off at a fast jog up the deserted beach-side street.
…
"Left or Right," I said as we approached the Portland turnoff. We'd been traveling south from the better part of the morning. The old truck was still our trusty steed. Jake had offered to drive again and not long after we'd gotten back on the road, I decided I'd better send Charlie a text.
*Hey dad, Jake and I have gone on a little trip. Don't worry, we'll be back, I'm just not sure when. Can you let Billy know that Jake's okay. He just needs some time away from the res and some of the guys down there. I think we both needed to get away. Maybe don't tell mom, she'll freak out.
I really am okay, we both are. Or at least Jake will be with some distance from La Push.
Love you, B*
.
It had taken Charlie approximately ninety seconds to respond to the text message with a screaming phone call demanding we come home and telling us Billy had already called him to say Jake was AWOL. There were threats of FBI scale searches, life time groundings, and castrations.
Until, in the end, dad gave a long, exhausted sigh. "Is this what you need Bells? To get out of here, away from the memories? Is this what you need to really get over him and be the old you again?"
I'd thought about that for a moment. The clarity of another's observations of myself hit me like a sucker punch. It was. I'd realized that, like a free-diver breaking the surface after a lifetime underwater, that I'd hardly had a thought of Edward in the past twelve or so hours. Every corner didn't hold a memory of him for me. The hole was still there, less jagged and less sore, but at least now I could breathe.
I could breathe again.
"Yeah dad. I think it is."
Jake reached forward, his hand diving into the chip bag we had wedged up on the dash. He handed me a few, then threw another handful into his mouth lifting his flip flop clad feet onto the quarter glass. Man, could the boy eat. And man, did he have huge feet.
"Keep right," he said around a mouthful of chips, "I like following the coast line. It reminds me of home."
I signaled, keeping us on the one-oh-one, the soft click, click, click, was loud in the otherwise quiet car. "You gunna tell me about it now?" I asked, flicking an eye to Jake, then back to the road.
He looked at me. "You gotta think about it Bells, I really can't tell you. You've got to guess. Think back to that day you came to the beach," he prompted, "and I —" he stopped mid-sentence, again choking on this words. "Shit!" he barked, sitting up and slamming his palm on the dash causing the glove compartment latch to open. I watched as the tiny first-aid kit and a few loose tools spilled out. He threw the tools back in the box, pressing it shut. "You already know it, Bella! You just got to think." He tapped two fingers to the side of his head in frustration.
I thought about that cold, dreary day on the shores of La Push and I had a little twinge of guilt for leading Jake on so blatantly. I knew he'd had a crush on me back then... I supposed he still did. "We went for a walk," I said, not incriminating myself on my sneaky tactics. I was embarrassed about it now, if I was being honest with myself. Jake deserved better than that. I pushed the feelings down, remembering the day. "It was cold and raining a little, I couldn't believe how Jess and some of the guys were game enough to swim in the cold water," I said, to his nodding head.
"And…" he urged, his hand rolling in a fast flick, urging my brain to recall more of that day. I was trying, but all I could think about was how much'd I wanted to unravel the mystery of Edward Cullen. How that old legend, the one about the cold ones, had been the final piece of the puzzle I'd needed.
"You told me old ghost stories."
"Yes!" he jumped in his seat, "them… try and remember exactly what I said that day… remember Bells. Remember." He bounced in his seat again, reminding me of the boy that I'd flirted shamelessly with on the beach that day. His enthusiasm reminded me of that same boy, who had needed me to take him around dumps and auto parts stores when we did up the bikes. This guy sitting next to me urging me to remember, he was the boy who had turned into a man overnight and then disappeared. But he was in there still. And unlike Edward, he'd comeback for me.
"The cold ones," I whispered, one hand on the wheel, the other winding, involuntarily around my middle.
"And…"
"I don't know. Just, I just remember the legend of the cold ones."
He let out an irritated sigh as he slumped back in his seat. "Typical," he spat. Jacob looked over to me. His eyes cold and assessing. "You know what they are, and you still let him touch you?"
"What?" I asked, my shoulder coming up between us, "I don't know what you're talking about?"
"Don't you?" he asked, knowing full well I did; I knew too well.
We were quiet for a while, the tensions rolling off us both.
"How—" I started after a few more miles of wondering what he'd meant, knowing exactly what he'd meant. Then wondering how he'd known exactly what he'd meant. "—How, Jake?"
"It's all part of the same thing Bella," he said back, his voice a tired monotone drawl. "If you remember all of that day, you'll understand."
I was trying, but the road was long, and the sun was hot, and I was tired—bone tired. I let out an exhausted sigh, the air rushing from my teeth in a hot, tense rush. "We need to stop," I said, leaving so much of our conversation unfinished as I pulled into a tourist stop just outside of Cannon Beach.
"Yeah," he nodded. "Both of us are exhausted and grumpy, and we're gunna end up saying something we're gunna regret."
I backed us into a shaded, out-of-the-way spot that overlooked the cliffy bay beneath us.
"Let's get out those bed rolls," I suggested, "see how we're gunna fit in the back tonight— seeing as we don't have a tent."
.
Jake and I didn't really fit. The cut in wheel arches in the bed of the truck stopped us from fitting side by side. We managed an awkward head to toe arrangement. And like that, with the sound of the waves crashing in to the rocks below us and the soft call off the nesting seaside birds, we lay curled up, head to toe, under the dappled shade of a shore pine.
I lay on the thin leather roll, my hoddie acting as a pillow, Jake's knees somewhere near my face and I closed my eyes.
Exhaustion, despondency and bewilderment finally overcame me.
…
We were in the forest, Jacob and I. We were searching for the meadow. Jake had his compass and map and was directing and leading the way. He pointed upwards, letting me go ahead. I walked until we reached a fork in the natural path. I turned to ask which way next, only to find Jacob was gone.
I was alone in the dark forest. The noise and the silence were penning me in.
I ran, calling his name, screaming that he couldn't leave me too. I ran, tripping over exposed roots and rocks. I pressed through the thick growth. The branches and leaves whipped across my palms, hot and sharp. Then I broke through, straight on the shores of First beach. The waves were crashing over the rocky beach. Drift wood logs were scattered over the shore.
"Think Bella," Jake's voice urged from somewhere behind me. "Remember the legends".
I looked around, trying to find him.
And then I saw him, the wolf, standing at the forests edge. It was a giant russet wolf. Its deep, soulful eyes were looking at me, silent pleading with me.
An eagle called from above and I looked up. It was a kite. It was flying on a string in the shape of a dream catcher. I followed the string with my eyes. From its sky born heights, to the ground. Jake's friend Embry was standing far off in the distance, holding the string.
He let it go and the dream catcher kite floated up and away over the ocean. I looked back to Embry and he was gone.
In the woods a wolf howled, and then, next to me, another howl. The deep tenor reverberated through my chest. I looked down and instead of the wolf, Jacob was there, lying on his side in the sand, bare foot and bare chested. Mud and leaves caked to his body.
I screamed as the realization flooded over me.
"Jake!"
A/N: Dream sequence, I know. But that's how Canon Bella figured it all out and I wanted the same for mine. Aren't you glad I didn't drag out her not knowing? I was when I wrote it.
This chapter's only a short one folks, but if I get a chance, I'll update mid-week for the next one.
I wanna say thanks to my Beta, Aretee for her work on this chapter. Your comments always make my day.
This story has almost completely been written and it will be about 20 chapters long in total , if anyone want's to know what they're committing themselves to. I'll be updating every weekend, and occasionally with an extra chapter mid-week if I can find the time.
Thanks to every one who took the time to comment and review. It's good to know you've enjoyed it so far.
Happy weekend; MarinaNamaste.
