The Storm (Finished)

    Cindy walked into the bedroom and sat down on the bed. “He’s gone.”
         
    James went to the window. Seeing the storm rage over the farm he grabbed his hat and ran out of the room. He pounded down the stairs and grabbed the flashlight out of the desk drawer.
         
      “You won’t find him. He won’t want to be found. You might as well just let him go. He’ll come home on his own.”
         
    James whirled around to find Cindy standing on the bottom step, leaning against the railing so casually that James’ anger spiked. “This is YOUR fault you stupid whore.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and braced her against the wall. He was so close to her that he could see an artery in her neck pumping frantically. “He’s not but twelve years old! If anything happens to him I will hunt you down like the dirty dog you are. We are finished. Any love I may have had for you is over. Done. Do I make myself clear?”
         
    Cindy nodded slowly. “Yes,” she whispered.
         
      James let go and walked to the front door. As he opened it he turned so she could hear him over the wind. “You better be gone by the time we get back. Call your mother, call Beth, call the damn police and sleep in a cell tonight for all I care. You just better be gone.” Then he walked out and slammed the door.
         
      After he was gone Cindy slid down the wall to the step. With the adrenaline gone she began to shake. Then she began to cry. She cried with fear, and regret. “Oh God. What have I done?”
         
    James ran through the field toward the forest behind the house. He had to bob and weave through the field to miss the flying debris. Once he reached the trees he turned on the flashlight. “KEVIN!” He yelled. Realizing he wasn’t going to hear anything next to the field he walked into the forest. Every ten feet he stopped and yelled Kevin’s name, waiting for a response. To keep his panic at bay James thought about the day he brought Kevin home…
         
    James opened the front door to the house and stopped just inside the threshold, listening to the silence. He put the diaper bag on the floor and looked down at Kevin. He knew some men blamed the baby when their wives died in childbirth, but he wasn’t going to be one of them. He found it pointless. He understood that Kevin wasn’t responsible and he wanted to shower his son with enough love and affection to, hopefully, make up for the loss of his mother. Looking at the wide-eyed baby, James stroked his face. Then, Kevin reached up, grabbed James’ finger with his tiny fist and brought it to his chest, as if saying, “You’re mine and I’m yours and we’re in this together.” James realized that he was going to have to be enough for Kevin because he was all the boy had left. No, he wasn’t going to be like those men. He was going to love his child with everything he had in him to give, because Kevin was his window to Samantha, her memory, and her heart. James held the baby close to his face and looked deep into his eyes. “I swear to you in front of God, Jesus, Mary and all the saints in heaven that you will know who your mama was. You will know her face, her smile, and I swear you will know the love she had for you. She loved you so much.” He felt the tears on his face but he didn’t bother to wipe them away. He was going to teach Kevin what his father taught him: real men know how to cry.
         
      James crashed through the bushes and jumped over a log. “Kevin?!” he yelled. He stopped under a tree, straining to hear an answer. Silence.
         
      James grabbed the diaper bag and walked into the living room. He set the baby down in the playpen and sorted through the things the nurses gave him before he left the hospital. He thought about the emotions in their eyes when he left. Different combinations of sympathy, pain, and fear. He didn’t know whether the fear was for him, the baby or both. Realizing that he had no idea how he was going to raise Kevin on his own, he thought about calling his mama. “No,” he sighed, “not yet. I can’t handle her right now.” He eyed his son, who was staring at him rather intently for an infant. “Although someone is gonna have to change your dirty diapers and it sure as hell ain’t gonna be me.”
         
      James was walking when he heard something. He froze, and held his breath. He heard it again. “Kevin?” He craned his neck, trying to see through the trees. Then he heard it, “Dad?” James took off towards the voice, wiping rainwater out of his eyes, “Kevin?” As he was rounding the side of a particularly large oak tree he ran straight into a solid object and was knocked flat on his back. Realizing that he could drown while lying there, he sat up and saw his son sitting against the tree, rubbing his head.
         
    James crawled over to Kevin and hugged him close. “I’m so sorry about Cindy. You won’t have to worry about her anymore. I promise you that.”
         
      Kevin didn’t answer. He shrugged out of his father’s arms and looked him in the eyes. “Is it really my fault mama died? I’m sorry Daddy. I know how much you loved mama. I didn’t mean to do it, I swear!”
         
      James silently cursed Cindy and hoped she had the good sense to get the hell out of the house. “No son, it’s not your fault.” He stood up and helped Kevin to his feet. “Samantha loved you more than life itself.” He sighed. “The truth is boy, the doctor gave your mama a choice. She knew she was in trouble. She could feel it. The doc said that she could either save you or save herself.” James grabbed Kevin’s shoulders. “She didn’t hesitate, Kevin. Not for one minute. She gave her life so that you could have one. Don’t let anyone ever tell you different, you understand?” Kevin nodded.
         
    “Good,” James sighed deeply. “Now let’s go home. I’m soaked through and my ankle hurts. I tripped over a chicken.”