Woman In The Woods

Chapter 3

Chapter 3Jeremy placed his guitar case and bags in the back of Jack's truck. He climbed into the cab and fastened his seatbelt, doing his best to ignore the knot tightening inside around his gut. It wasn't until after they pulled out of the St. Mary's parking garage that he sensed some relief and allowed himself a small sigh. They were headed home. He wasn't positive how he felt about the move yet, but he knew he was at least ready for change.

Jack's air conditioner hummed, blowing icy air out from corner vents. Jeremy didn't mind. Although Labor Day was on Monday, the month of August had already taken its toll. It had been both a hot and terribly humid summer and he didn't like sweating. The hospital A/C was never strong enough to cool down the ward, or more specifically, his room.

“Is it too cold? You can adjust it however you want.” His fingers fidgeted with the settings on the dash controls. The air died.

Jeremy shook his head. “No. I like it.”

Jack switched it back on and pulled his hand away. “You sure?”

“Yeah. It feels good.” Jeremy readjusted the seatbelt across his chest. The nylon cut into the side of his neck, made his skin red and itchy. He couldn't recall ever having ridden in the front seat of a vehicle before. Even when the ward went on day trips, they took a van. If there was room, he sat in back.

The sun, painfully bright in a cloudless, blue sky, caused a brilliant white glare off of the windshield. Jeremy raised a hand and shielded his eyes.

“You can lower the visor, if you want.” Jack pointed.

Jeremy looked up at the edge of papers peeking out. He didn't want to make a mess. Squinting against sunlight was fine, no big deal. “I'm good.”

Jack reached over and snatched the items secured above the visor, turned them over in his hand and then handed them to Jeremy. “Stuff those in the glove box for me?”

The glove box was already crammed. “Not sure it will fit.”

“Stuff it right in. Slam it closed.” He laughed when Jeremy struggled keeping papers from jetting out before the box latched closed. After several attempts, he was successful. “There you go.”

Jeremy inadvertently rolled his eyes, caught himself and hoped his uncle missed it. He wasn't being ungrateful as much as he felt embarrassed about struggling with something as simple as a glove box.

“Want some music? We have about a four hour drive ahead of us.”

Making small talk took a lot of work. Even though Jeremy appreciated his uncle taking him in, there was no polite way of saying he'd be fine if they drove the entire way in complete silence. The hospital was so full of constant noises; someone yelling, or crying, or talking.

Would he still have been released if he had no home to return to? If his Uncle Jack hadn't agreed to take him in? He'd never asked anyone that question before. It didn't seem important at the time. Now, he found himself a little curious. “Music would be great,” Jeremy said.

“Okay.” Jack nodded with such enthusiasm it was as if the two of them had agreed on doing something crazy and bonding and full of significance, instead of turning on the radio. Loud music came from the speakers. “I'm not sure what you like. You can put on whatever station you want.”

Jeremy shrugged. St. Mary's piped instrumental stuff through speakers most of the day. Although the songs played softly in the background, it was always there and—playing day-in and day-out—usually gave him something of a headache. “Whatever you like is fine, really.”

He wanted to be polite and prove taking him in hadn't been a mistake.

Jack let out a long sigh, unrolled his fingers and re-gripped the steering wheel. “Can I say something?”

Jeremy's throat went dry. Afraid his voice might crack if he spoke, he nodded.

“I want to be honest, okay? Straight forward? I'm real nervous about this. Real nervous. Your father, he was my only brother. You're my last kin. We're family. I know you needed your time away, time to get better and everything. But those people at the hospital didn't just give you to me.” Jack turned and pointed at his nephew. “I fought for you. I wanted you home.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.” Jack focused on the road. He shifted his weight in his seat. “Thing is, what do I know about kids?” He rolled a hand around near his head. “I have all these memories of my mother, your grandmother—she passed before you were born—and I just remember the things she did for me and your father. She was the best woman, I swear. No one could ask for a better mother.”

Jeremy's eyes twitched and he looked away.

“I'm sorry,” Jack said. “I wasn't thinking. See, but that's my point. What I'm trying to say is I have no idea what to say, or do. I don't even know how to act.”

“You're doing fine. I'm uncomfortable, too. I don't want to do anything wrong.” Jeremy left the rest of his thought unspoken, he didn't want his uncle sending him back to St. Mary's. He'd been free of the institution less than a half hour and already he was less apprehensive about going home.

He felt admittedly hopeful.

“Well, okay. Good, then. We're on the same page here. So let's both just relax. We give it some time, get used to having each other around, get used to when to stay out of each other's way and such and I think this will work out fine. Whadya say?”

It sounded perfect. “Deal.”

Jack held out his hand, eyes still on the road. “Put 'er there.”

They shook.

“Okay. Put on some music and let's enjoy the ride home.”

Jeremy reached for the radio knob. “It's okay, you know.”

Jack said, “What is?”

Missing his mother and father, loss was one thing Jeremy spent years working on. It was the crux of his one-on-one therapy and often came up during Dr. Burkhart's group sessions. Accepting that their deaths weren't his fault was quintessential to recovery. Overcoming sleepless nights and an endless plague of nightmares when he could sleep, Jeremy found new ways of coping with life. “I'm sure my grandmother was a great woman. I wish I could have met her.”

At this, Jack grinned. “You'd have loved her and she'd have spoiled you rotten.”