Mayfly Melodies

Eight

Noah

I wanted to be like my father, who was a cattle man and a rodeo roper. And that was—he was my hero, and I wanted to be more like him—Dave Brubeck

Noah couldn't sleep.

It was something he'd had trouble with for a while. For hours, he would just lie in his bed and stare at the ceiling, counting sheep or thinking about life's greatest mysteries. Sometimes, he would read. His favourites were Charles Dickens and James Patterson and Stephen King. He read Tolstoy because he was his mother's favourite, and the newspaper because that was all his father would read.

It was in the dark, lying alone in his bed, that Noah felt the most connected to his parents. Most people would assume that it would be atop of a bull or tending to the vegetable garden that he could feel them the best since these were the things that had been most important to his parents. His father had been a champion bull rider himself and his mother had once grown the largest zucchini that had ever been recorded in Wichita Falls. But being close to the things that his parents loved only caused him more pain, instead of offering comfort. At night, with his eyes closed and no sounds to break him from his fantasy, he could picture them so clearly and could almost forget that they were no longer with him.

Tonight was one of those nights that Noah spent thinking of his parents.

He knew that they would be proud of him—they always were—for the way he was handling things. For Caroline and the ranch and the rodeo. Even though Caroline wasn't speaking and parts of the ranch were falling apart and he wasn't able to do any travelling to rodeo events that were more than a day's drive, he knew that they would be satisfied with what he was doing.

But, even though Noah knew that they would be proud of him, he didn't exactly feel the same about himself. He knew that there must be something out there that could make his and Caroline's lives easier, he just didn't know what it was. Something that could help her to speak again and something that could help them to get back on their feet after all that they'd been through. Not necessarily money, they were well off enough, having been compensated fairly with insurance after the accident and they were making decent profit with the ranch and Noah's rodeo excursions, but something else. Something that would help them figure out who they were again and where they fit into this new crazy world that they'd suddenly found themselves in.

These were the thoughts that plagued him. That thought that the sibling pair would never again find themselves whole. But, then again, they never really would be. Not when the accident hadn't just caused him and Caroline to lose their parents which in itself, is a painful phenomenon, but also the fact that it had caused them to lose a brother as well.

Noah could have dealt with losing his parents. He could have dealt with Caroline not speaking, perhaps ever. He could not; however, deal with the both of those things as well as the fact that he'd lost his brother, Aaron, as well. Gone. Never coming back.

That was a consequence of the accident, though Noah knew he should call it what it really was. Accident was the term he'd begun using as a shield, a way to block out the painful memories and focus on keeping him and Caroline whole and healthy. In all reality, Noah should have been calling it the fire. Of course, the fire had been an accident. No one had intentionally tried to burn down the Hartley ranch. But it had happened nonetheless.

Noah hadn't been home when the flames lit up the sky and it was this fact that wracked his poor, tired brain the most. He was constantly running over the different scenarios in his head. If he had been there, if he had even arrived home from Ethan's house just five minutes earlier, would it have been enough time to save his family? He didn't know and he never would.