Free The Retreat by David Bergen

Doctor, and it remained a mystery to Everett how a person might enter that place. Perhaps an invitation was necessary, or humour, or intelligence, or maybe there was a password. If there was, Everett did not know it. His mother must have known the way in, because she was often there, sitting close to the Doctor, and he wished that she would call him over and ask him to sit beside her, but she never did. Once, he heard her speak, but he did not catch what she said, only the Doctor’s response as he said, “Good question, Norma.” At that moment, Everett’s chest began to ache, and he stepped out of the room.
    Everett’s father rarely went to the Hall, because he said that the atmosphere was stultifying. “You know the word,” Lewissaid to Everett one afternoon. “That’s what it is. Stultifying. The air is heavy with minds roiling in their own crap.” Everett was helping cut stringers for a new set of stairs, the same stairs that his mother had lost her footing on during the family’s second week there and broken her wrist. His mother and father had just had an argument. Everett had been sitting on the stairs of their cabin and he had heard his father’s voice as he said, “That may be, but he’s got a pecker, you know, Norma,” and his mother had laughed and said, “Lewis, Lewis.” And then his father came outside and he walked past Everett, got into the car and slammed the door, and then he was gone. Everett heard his mother behind him, on the porch, and she said his name as if surprised to see him there. Then she came down onto the first step and it gave way. She fell forward with a small “ohh” and put out her arms to stop her fall and as she landed her right wrist snapped backwards. Everett heard the sound that came out of her mouth. It was a sharp cry, and he felt embarrassed and looked away; his mother’s legs were spread and he could see her panties. He felt humiliation and willed his mother to close her legs. His helplessness kept him from moving. And then the Doctor appeared and bent over Mrs. Byrd and put his face very near hers and it seemed he would kiss her, but he didn’t. He helped her up, placing his hands under her arms so that he touched her breasts. Everett turned his head away and then back again. The Doctor’s mouth was close to his mother’s neck. He told her that her wrist might be broken. She shook her head and studied her arm. She looked at Everett, her face very white. She moaned then, and the sound was intimate and sexual. Hercheek rested against the Doctor’s chest. The Doctor asked for help and Everett finally stepped forward and gripped his mother’s arm. The three of them hobbled towards the pickup. His mother was muttering. She said, “Fuck,” and then laughed and she turned her face towards the Doctor and said, “Sorry.” Everett’s forearm was under her bare armpit and there was a slickness of sweat. This was her good arm, round at the shoulder and clean and straight, and Everett had been surprised at the strength in her bicep. Her dress, sleeveless and soft, had smelled of soap. “Tell your father,” she said. “Okay? Tell him I’m fine.”
    The Doctor drove his mother to the hospital, and when Everett’s father came back he had told him about the fall and he said that his mother’s wrist might be broken. He described the fall, the colour of his mother’s face, her bravery. He said nothing about the Doctor almost kissing her, or the tilt of his mother’s body as she whispered sorry to the Doctor. He wanted his mother and father to be happy, and he imagined that this accident might soften his father in some way. When his mother returned from the hospital, she had made her way onto her porch where the family gathered. She called out to Fish and put him on her lap and showed off her cast. When she saw Everett standing off to the side, she motioned for him to come, and she allowed him to write his name on her cast. As he did so, he caught his mother’s