What Nobody Else Sees

chapter three

Sam hadn't spoken to Callie in many years, and despite hating Key Creek and everything it stood for, he picked up the phone when she called him at midnight. Sam would always be there if his family really needed him. It was what he written on the postcard all those years ago, and apparently his younger sister had remembered it.

He could've cursed himself for that stupid principle.

Driving down the long backroad, Sam took a quick look at the gun sitting in the cup holder. He wasn't worried about anyone stopping him. He knew Key Creek like the back of his hand, which meant he knew how to avoid anyone seeing him. The plan was to cross the Alabama-Mississippi line, sell the gun to a friend over there, and get back to Callie. His poor baby sister...He had never expected Callie to kill anyone. Given the state she was in, he wasn't sure she would even make it to the end of the investigation alive.

But he would be there for her. In the shadows, he would help her like he had been all morning, ever since he made the five-hour drive from Memphis. He didn't ask questions, he didn't pry, but the truth still somehow came out. It made Sam wish he had been the one to kill the piece of shit. There was so much fear in Callie's face, she was absolutely terrified. As long as Sam was alive, he would make sure that never happened to her again. And if it did, then he would take care of it before Callie had to.

The longer he thought about it, the angrier he got. Sam had been home for five hours and was able to figure out that Callie had been abused. All of Key Creek saw Callie every single day, and did nothing to help her. That was why Sam hated the town so much. They were all bark and no bite, a gun without any bullets, cries for help going in one ear and out the other. They would gossip day and night, but then pretend to be best friends with those same people they insulted. Sam couldn't stand it. At least in the city, if someone didn't like you, they would tell you.

Maybe not everyone was subtle. Callie didn't seem reserved with her dislike of Donna.

Their big sister, always fighting for her siblings, had apparently become as estranged as Sam. It didn't sit well with him, the thought of the five person Evans family dropping to three.

His old light blue truck bounced along the dirt road. Sam tried to hang onto his anger, but it began to slip away as he gazed at his surroundings. The cotton fields were wide, feeling like they went on forever. As much as he hated Key Creek, it was his hometown. Everyone had some attachment to their hometown, he knew that from the folks he met in Memphis. Some buried memories that you tried your best to forget, because it made you think "not everything was awful, maybe I should've stayed". Sam wasn't one to reminisce, and he certainly wasn't one for regrets.

Forget the nostalgia, he told himself. Sam was known in Memphis for getting rid of evidence, and was currently selling the gun his baby sister used to murder her husband. Back in Key Creek, the worst thing he had done was stolen his dad's truck. He nearly laughed at the absurdity. How time changes you.

The blue sign bid him farewell as he passed the state line. His stomach growling, he realized that it had been a while since he ate. Once he got rid of the gun, he would pick up some food for himself and Callie. She had always overworked herself to the point of forgetting to do basic things, such as eating. This whole incident certainly wouldn't help.

An overachieving people pleaser that he had left. A fifteen-year-old girl he didn't even say goodbye to.

Sam entered the sea of cars on the highway. He wasn't so afraid of being an outsider now. No nosy looks and stretched out heads trying to get a look inside the tinted windows. Just people minding their business, too stuck inside their own heads to get into other people's. That was the way Sam liked it. Relaxing, he turned on the radio. Rock music filled the truck. His parents were never rock n roll fans.