Chapter 6.
[no, chapts 4 & 5 haven't been posted. They're still in my head. I just didn't want to lose this, and I knew it was chapt 6 when I thought of it]
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Chapter 6. "The Bridge"
Troy MT, 2001
She didn't know what she was doing. Or why she was even really here. All she knew was that she had no intention of being here. She had taken all the right turns to end up at the wrong destination.
She had meant to go home. It was late. It was time for bed. And time for dessert. She didn't want to miss dessert. But instead she found herself traveling to a place she had only been once. A place only found through the mere fact she remembered everything like a map. Otherwise it would have been lost forever.
The first time she found it, this bridge, she was with her cousin. Her drunk cousin at that. He had called asking for a ride. She remembered thinking, "At least he's smart enough to ask." On the way to her Uncle's house he had her take a different route.
"This isn't where we turn to get to your house Jace." Jace. What a stupid name. His father must have chosen it. It sounded like mace. And mace was never a good thing. Not as a medieval weapon, not as a toxic chemical. Not then, not now. And like mace, Jace was not a good thing either. In fact, she tried to avoid him as much as she could. Which couldn't be a bad thing. Jace was already 24 and still living at home. His father and mother berated him for his lack of any sort of enthusiasm in life and lack of rent. He didn't want anything more out of life than to chase his past and have fun. And she knew that all she wanted in life was more than what her past had given her. So Jace was definitely someone who she actively avoided, family or not.
"I know, I know. I just wanna show you somthin'." His breath reeked of cheap beer.
Not understanding what the hell she was doing, or why she was doing it at the time, she turned. And she drove.
She and Jace drove down the winding, curving, country lanes until they were thirty miles from town following the path of a similarly winding creek.
And now again, she found herself driving along the same desolate road. In the middle of the night. Alone.
She had tried to take others to the bridge, but hadn't been able to find it again. And for some reason she had found it this time. When she had tried to show her friends this place, special to her, none of them really cared about it. Wanting to know where she was taking them, when they would be home, why the hell they were all the way out here. No one cared like she cared. Hell, Jace didn't even care the first time he took her.
"It's just a few miles up here." He pointed out the windshield, as though his finger was some beacon to guide them.
They drove slowly now, the woods dense around them. And then there it was, just around a bend in the road. There was an access road right past it leading deeper into the forests, but other than that no other access point than the road they were on.
The bridge itself was in need of repairs. Concrete, stocky posts lined the road as a guardrail. The concrete was crumbling, leaving exposed iron foundations and wires. On the posts kids had spraypainted initials and emblems only they would understand. If they ever found them again.
Jace jumped out of her car and ran to the side of the bridge, looking down into the creek. She stepped out and followed behind him less enthusiastically, only wanting to make sure he didn't fall in knowing she'd be blamed in some part. He spun around and had his arms out reaching toward her.
"This is it."
"What? What is this?" She still had no idea why she was there, and was really hoping Jace would pay her back for the gas money.
"The bridge Emma. This is the bridge."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"This is where we come! This is where you party! This is holy ground here!"
Now she understood. She understood that this all but abandoned bridge was only the location for underage drinking and revelry. A place desecrated by horny and drunk teenagers - just looking for their next high. Jace didn't take her here for some sort of bonding moment (which would have been highly unusual in any state, nevermind that he was drunk). He brought her here to continue whatever he had left behind in high school. Chasing his parties and friends into his memories. This place wasn't anymore important to him than the parking spot in the high school lot where he lost his virginity, another thing that he claimed to be "holy ground".
Jace turned back around and stumbled up the road. She stayed in the middle of the street, right at the threshold of the bridge and looked around. Stars could be seen directly above them, but other than that the trees blocked out any view of the sky. The road seemed to cross the creek and run at the base of a large hill before it finally climbed to the top. She could see the street lights, few and far between, marking the path.
Standing there she felt calm. For the first time in years, she felt a serenity that was undeniable. She looked again at the crumbling bridge. A date was stamped on the first post, "1933". She stared for a long while at that date. And at the concrete, and iron, listening to the shallow creek flow restlssly beneath her.
She didn't even notice Jace dancing up and down the street. Or notice when he was finished he was watching her. Watching how she stood there. And didn't notice the smile which took his face. He was proud of her. For whatever reason, maybe because he was drunk and she actually came and picked him up, he was proud. And he knew it was best that she avoided him, because he knew he was a fuck up.
She looked over at her cousin walking back to the car. Following him she noticed he was walking slightly lighter, slightly steadier. "Must be sobering up," she thought. They got in the car and drove back home.
Now she found the bridge again. A year later. It was further in than she remembered, and the road crossed the creek more than she remembered. It was more populated now. But the weight of desolation was still very heavy.
First you cross a new bridge. A shiny metal one with the normal guard rails you see along the highway. Then a couple concrete bridges, like the one she found with Jace, but in much better condition. These weren't crumbling, and these weren't spraypainted. And then, finally, you reached it.
And again, sitting in the middle of the road, in the middle of this bridge, she felt calm again. It was the ghosts of the past, and the memories of the future which made it feel completely separate from any world around it. This bridge was everything she had ever needed, when she needed.
Twenty, maybe thirty minutes later she got back into her car and drove over the bridge towards the hill, exploring what lay beyond. Coming over the ridge of the top she saw a light in the sky. A white haze cresting the mountain. And turning the car around, looking at the light, she liked to think it was a glimmer of Heaven, shining over her bridge.
The farther away she went from the abandoned bridge she felt the peace slip further away. By the time she turned back onto the highway she felt she had left something behind. And by the mere act of turning she had compromised part of herself - part of who she wanted to be.
The bridge held that piece for her. Held it safe.
Jace was right. It was holy ground.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Chapter 6. "The Bridge"
Troy MT, 2001
She didn't know what she was doing. Or why she was even really here. All she knew was that she had no intention of being here. She had taken all the right turns to end up at the wrong destination.
She had meant to go home. It was late. It was time for bed. And time for dessert. She didn't want to miss dessert. But instead she found herself traveling to a place she had only been once. A place only found through the mere fact she remembered everything like a map. Otherwise it would have been lost forever.
The first time she found it, this bridge, she was with her cousin. Her drunk cousin at that. He had called asking for a ride. She remembered thinking, "At least he's smart enough to ask." On the way to her Uncle's house he had her take a different route.
"This isn't where we turn to get to your house Jace." Jace. What a stupid name. His father must have chosen it. It sounded like mace. And mace was never a good thing. Not as a medieval weapon, not as a toxic chemical. Not then, not now. And like mace, Jace was not a good thing either. In fact, she tried to avoid him as much as she could. Which couldn't be a bad thing. Jace was already 24 and still living at home. His father and mother berated him for his lack of any sort of enthusiasm in life and lack of rent. He didn't want anything more out of life than to chase his past and have fun. And she knew that all she wanted in life was more than what her past had given her. So Jace was definitely someone who she actively avoided, family or not.
"I know, I know. I just wanna show you somthin'." His breath reeked of cheap beer.
Not understanding what the hell she was doing, or why she was doing it at the time, she turned. And she drove.
She and Jace drove down the winding, curving, country lanes until they were thirty miles from town following the path of a similarly winding creek.
And now again, she found herself driving along the same desolate road. In the middle of the night. Alone.
She had tried to take others to the bridge, but hadn't been able to find it again. And for some reason she had found it this time. When she had tried to show her friends this place, special to her, none of them really cared about it. Wanting to know where she was taking them, when they would be home, why the hell they were all the way out here. No one cared like she cared. Hell, Jace didn't even care the first time he took her.
"It's just a few miles up here." He pointed out the windshield, as though his finger was some beacon to guide them.
They drove slowly now, the woods dense around them. And then there it was, just around a bend in the road. There was an access road right past it leading deeper into the forests, but other than that no other access point than the road they were on.
The bridge itself was in need of repairs. Concrete, stocky posts lined the road as a guardrail. The concrete was crumbling, leaving exposed iron foundations and wires. On the posts kids had spraypainted initials and emblems only they would understand. If they ever found them again.
Jace jumped out of her car and ran to the side of the bridge, looking down into the creek. She stepped out and followed behind him less enthusiastically, only wanting to make sure he didn't fall in knowing she'd be blamed in some part. He spun around and had his arms out reaching toward her.
"This is it."
"What? What is this?" She still had no idea why she was there, and was really hoping Jace would pay her back for the gas money.
"The bridge Emma. This is the bridge."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"This is where we come! This is where you party! This is holy ground here!"
Now she understood. She understood that this all but abandoned bridge was only the location for underage drinking and revelry. A place desecrated by horny and drunk teenagers - just looking for their next high. Jace didn't take her here for some sort of bonding moment (which would have been highly unusual in any state, nevermind that he was drunk). He brought her here to continue whatever he had left behind in high school. Chasing his parties and friends into his memories. This place wasn't anymore important to him than the parking spot in the high school lot where he lost his virginity, another thing that he claimed to be "holy ground".
Jace turned back around and stumbled up the road. She stayed in the middle of the street, right at the threshold of the bridge and looked around. Stars could be seen directly above them, but other than that the trees blocked out any view of the sky. The road seemed to cross the creek and run at the base of a large hill before it finally climbed to the top. She could see the street lights, few and far between, marking the path.
Standing there she felt calm. For the first time in years, she felt a serenity that was undeniable. She looked again at the crumbling bridge. A date was stamped on the first post, "1933". She stared for a long while at that date. And at the concrete, and iron, listening to the shallow creek flow restlssly beneath her.
She didn't even notice Jace dancing up and down the street. Or notice when he was finished he was watching her. Watching how she stood there. And didn't notice the smile which took his face. He was proud of her. For whatever reason, maybe because he was drunk and she actually came and picked him up, he was proud. And he knew it was best that she avoided him, because he knew he was a fuck up.
She looked over at her cousin walking back to the car. Following him she noticed he was walking slightly lighter, slightly steadier. "Must be sobering up," she thought. They got in the car and drove back home.
Now she found the bridge again. A year later. It was further in than she remembered, and the road crossed the creek more than she remembered. It was more populated now. But the weight of desolation was still very heavy.
First you cross a new bridge. A shiny metal one with the normal guard rails you see along the highway. Then a couple concrete bridges, like the one she found with Jace, but in much better condition. These weren't crumbling, and these weren't spraypainted. And then, finally, you reached it.
And again, sitting in the middle of the road, in the middle of this bridge, she felt calm again. It was the ghosts of the past, and the memories of the future which made it feel completely separate from any world around it. This bridge was everything she had ever needed, when she needed.
Twenty, maybe thirty minutes later she got back into her car and drove over the bridge towards the hill, exploring what lay beyond. Coming over the ridge of the top she saw a light in the sky. A white haze cresting the mountain. And turning the car around, looking at the light, she liked to think it was a glimmer of Heaven, shining over her bridge.
The farther away she went from the abandoned bridge she felt the peace slip further away. By the time she turned back onto the highway she felt she had left something behind. And by the mere act of turning she had compromised part of herself - part of who she wanted to be.
The bridge held that piece for her. Held it safe.
Jace was right. It was holy ground.