Free Point Pleasant by Jen Archer Wood Page B

paced around the car. He ran a hand through his hair and gripped it tight at the roots as if trying to wake himself up from a bad dream.
    Without thought, Ben tugged at the leather cord around his neck, yanking it hard enough to break the material. He had worn the arrowhead every day since Nicholas had given it to him almost nine years prior, but he wanted it gone even though he immediately grieved the loss of its familiar weight. He stared down at the carved stone attached to the center and clutched it hard in the palm of his hand for a long moment before he reared back and threw the necklace as far as he could. It disappeared into the woods by the roadside, and he did not bother to watch where it landed.
    Ben slumped against the trunk of the Camaro and let it support his weight while his knees shook. He felt hollow inside despite the pounding of the broken heart in his chest, which was evidence of the fact that he was anything but empty.
    He doubled over, put his hands over his face, and stayed like that for several minutes before he sank into the car and drove home.
    Andrew was preparing dinner in the kitchen. Ben waved at his father’s welcome and stood by the kitchen sink to look out the window at the apple tree in the backyard.
    “Thought we’d have steak tonight,” Andrew said.
    “I’m gonna go away for a while,” Ben replied.
    “Okay, we can have burgers,” Andrew said with a laugh. “No need to throw a fit.”
    “I need to work some stuff out. On my own.”
    Andrew faced his son, but Ben continued to peer out the window despite his father’s concerned gaze. “Did something happen?”
    “No,” Ben replied, keeping his voice level and controlled. “I just need some time. Since Mom and everything, I just need some time on my own.” He met his father’s eyes finally. “Just for a while.”
    Andrew’s sharp features softened considerably. He looked like he understood. And he probably did; he escaped to the sterile respite of the hospital often enough, after all.
    “Where do you want to go?”
    Ben exhaled a breath he did not know he had been holding while his father assessed him. Andrew was looking at him not as a son but as a man who could—and should —leave home.
    “I don’t know yet,” Ben replied. “I just think a drive could help. A long drive. Maybe I’ll go see Katie.”
    “She’d like that,” Andrew said. He let out a sigh and wiped his hands on a dish towel. “The Camaro is yours. She’s good on the open road.”
    Ben nodded in agreement. He knew she was.
    “When do you want to go?”
    “Tomorrow morning.”
    “Then wash your hands and help me with the steak so we can have dinner together.”
    Ben drove out of Point Pleasant before his father woke the next morning, but he left a note: “ Put coffee on for you. See you soon. Ben .”
     
     
     
    October 2012
    Ben was unsurprised to find his father seated at the table with a cup of coffee and the morning paper. Thanks to his time in the service, Andrew had always been an early riser, and Ben knew that even though the clock had only just ticked past six o’clock, Andrew had most likely been awake for hours.
    “Morning,” Andrew said, his voice gruff from sleep-induced disuse.
    “Morning,” Ben replied.
    “Coffee’s on.”
    Ben poured himself a cup, and he could not help the small smile on his lips at the sight of the old Mr. Coffee machine that he had put on to brew the morning he left thirteen years ago.
    If it ain’t broke , Ben thought and mused over the formality of the machine’s name. He imagined it in a suit and tie not unlike the one he had donned before coming downstairs. Perhaps Mr. Coffee even carried a ragged briefcase that was as worn as his filter basket.
    “Anything exciting?” Ben asked, gesturing to the paper as he sat down across from his father.
    “Nothing.”
    Andrew folded the Gazette and put it to the side. Ben took a long sip of coffee. It was sharp and acrid on his taste buds like the shock of