My son received his Arrow of Light badge on the last Saturday in February, which was the single, darkest day of my life. A day when part of me died. A day in which the hours passed by with a tense, lethargic pain and the knots in my stomach tightened with each dreadful tick of the clock.
We spent the morning playing Nintendo games. That was Kevin's choice. I went along with it, letting him beat me every time. It was the least I could do. I kept my eyes on the TV screen, concentrating on Mario's jumps, and paid no attention to the Shadow that gnawed on the dark corners of my mind.
At noon, we went to pick up the mail, then went out for lunch at Shari's, easily our favorite sit-down restaurant. Anne came to our regular table and took our order. "Hi, Tim. The usual for you and Kevin?" I nodded and she brought us double cheeseburgers and chocolate shakes. Anne made the best shakes, and always gave us enough for a refill in the metal mixing cup she left. I thought she gave us extra on purpose. I'd come here with Diane once and they didn't leave that much, but that might as well be centuries ago, and they could have been under different management then.
Although we never talked about it, I was sure that Kevin knew his dad had a crush on the waitress. I suspected Anne felt the same way. I could hear it in her voice, in the small talk when she asked me what I did and I told her I was a teacher, and then the way she teased Kevin. “Must be tough, having your own dad give you homework, huh?"
“Yeah," Kevin whispered. Neither one of us bothered to explain how the principal shifted the fourth and fifth grade assignments around so Kevin wouldn't be in my class, or how, beginning tonight, all that would change.
Anne brought us some ketchup and asked if we needed anything else. “No, thank you," I said, avoiding the urge to ask for her phone number. I would have asked her out, too… if things had been different.
The food tasted delicious, a rare treat nowadays. Most of the time food had no flavor and I usually wasn't hungry, but oddly enough today I had an appetite and I ravished the greasy burger and the thick steak fries. I had almost forgotten about the growing darkness until I saw Anne waiting at the table by the door and I remembered the night last October when Kevin and I had come out for a bite and found Diane sitting there with her boyfriend, Dirk the Dick.
I'd seen him before at the court hearings, but seeing him then, sitting with Diane holding hands across the table suddenly made the divorce seem all too real. Even thinking about it now made the Shadow come down upon me.
I first noticed the Shadow last spring, when Diane was on another one of her business trips. She'd called me from Omaha. “I want a divorce," she'd said. “I met someone I really love. He's like an angel. God wants us to be together." “Yeah? I'm sure God really wants to see our family broken up," I'd said, “so you can be with some guy you met at a bar."
“I should have known you'd be critical. Why can't you just be happy for me?"
Typical Diane. She wanted a divorce and expected me to be happy. I hung up and stared at the wall for a long time. That was the first time I noticed the Shadow. It was nothing more than a tiny dot just above my real shadow. At first I thought it was a trick of the light. I waved my arm. My shadow would move with me, but that odd dark speck would move in a different direction. I played with it in different settings, with different light. It was always there, but when I pointed it out to Kevin once, he couldn't see it.
I tried to ignore it, but that only seemed to make it larger, stronger. I saw it more and more as the divorce went on. It was there when Kevin saw me and Diane at each other's throats, fighting over every tiny thing. It was there when we put the house up for sale and both of us moved out, me and Kevin into a trailer and Diane to Omaha. And it was there when we faced each other in court, Diane suddenly deciding that Kevin should come and live with her and Dirk the Dick. Soon, the shadow turned into The Shadow, which was what I called it, as if it were a being with a life-force of it's own.
The Shadow descended into the knife I was holding and took shape. The ordinary butter knife suddenly turned into a crude hunting weapon with a long, serrated edge perfect for rendering and tearing flesh and creating pain.
This was nothing new. The Shadow had done this before, once when I had a flat tire on a cold night last November and the lug wrench turned into a giant crow bar and I almost knocked the Jeep off the jack. It happened another time when I was scrubbing an iron skillet and it turned into a heavy, flanged mace. And another time, when our Scout troop went to an archery range and the bow I was holding turned into a deadly crossbow.
I remember each of these times with vivid detail. I'd been thinking about the divorce: how much I'd like to put Diane in the bulls eye, or bash in the bitch's brains with the pan, or find her stinking lawyer stranded with a flat and come up behind him and smash in his fucking skull. Each time I felt a sudden clarity of vision, a feeling of floating on air, a tingling sensation on my skin, just as I did right now.
In my mind's eye, I saw Diane and Dirk the Dick sitting three tables away. I gripped the Rambo knife and I scooted over in the booth. I was about to get up when Anne came by.
“Can I get you anything else?" she said, taking our plates and breaking my concentration. I realized how tightly I was clutching the knife. The ordinary butter knife. The Shadow had retreated.
I glanced at the table I'd been heading to and saw a family sitting there. Mom, dad, two kids. Part of me was glad to see them together, whole and happy. Deep down there was another part of me, a black, hollow pit in my heart that wanted nothing more than to see them go through what was happening to me. “Just our ticket, please," I hissed.
“Be right back."
“Kevin," I asked, “did you see anything strange happen with my knife?"
“Huh?"
“It turned into a dagger. Did you see it?"
He looked at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was. Those Shadow feelings of power were growing more frequent, stronger. Maybe I needed help.
Anne brought us our bill and I paid. It would become the last time I'd ever go to Shari's.
After lunch, we went up to the Barnes & Noble on Dell Range. The latest Harry Potter novel was out. Kevin loved the series and tried to get me to read his copies. I started the first one, but something about a boy living with his aunt and uncle because his parents were dead made me sad. I couldn't finish it.
“Can I get it, Dad?"
I wanted to say no. I couldn't afford the expensive hardback edition, but I swung it anyway, knowing I was buying him a few moments of happiness in these last few hours we had left.
I had to go back on my promise to take Kevin to a movie. We didn't have the time. He was understanding about it, and I was glad. I hated the thought of sitting in a dark theatre staring at a screen. I'd have plenty of time sitting alone with my thoughts in the future.
We went home and Kevin changed into his Weeblos uniform. He looked handsome in it, with his dark hair and chubby, freckled face. Just a normal, regular ten year old kid, and not someone carrying such a heavy burden. We put on our coats and walked to school. The Arrow of Light ceremony was supposed to take place outside at a campfire, but this was February in Wyoming, and the scout leader knew enough to move it to the school gym.
The other Scouts were arriving. I exchanged greetings with the other fathers, but the conversations were short, tense. Chuck Jenkins pulled me to the side. “Tim, I heard what's going on with you and Kevin later tonight, and I just want to say how truly sorry I am. If there's anything you need-"
“We're okay," I said. I didn't want to talk about it.
Kevin and I sat down. Barney Striker and his boy sat down across from us. We didn't talk much. I felt like a leper, as if my situation was contagious. I wanted to urge him and all the other fathers to stay away from me. I remained quiet, tension wrapping my gut in knots.
The ceremony began without much fanfare. We lit the candles the boys had made last month, and then the three principles – Chief, Medicine Man and Guide – entered from the rear. They took their positions at the front and made their speeches about the challenges of Akela and the ways of the Bobcat, Wolf and Bear.
They inducted the troop. The other boys seemed to keep their distance from Kevin, even Barney's boy, Dell, who had won the canoe race with Kevin last summer, and Rich Harper, who'd teamed up with Kevin to earn their Outdoorsman badges. Kevin was a loner now, an outsider, like his father.
One by one, the boys crossed the wooden bridge one of the father's had brought in, and became Scouts. Later tonight, Kevin would have more bridges to cross.
We had a banquet after the ceremony. The appetite I'd found at lunch was gone. I sat alone with Kevin, poking at my food as I envied the other fathers. They were what Diane called real men, the ones who knew how to teach their sons how to tie a proper knot and to build a pinewood car that didn't fall apart. Their families stayed together. Their wives didn't run around or shack up with guys in Omaha. Even Paul Reynolds, whose wife did leave him, got sole custody of Rich.
Me, I wasn't as lucky. The judge was quick and to the point. “Growing up on my Daddy's ranch taught me one thing," he'd said from the bench. “In my experience, the calf always follows the mother, never the bull." Yeah, as if Diane and I were raising cattle.
The Shadow grew.
After dinner, Kevin and I said polite goodbyes and walked home. I liked walking in the dark. The Shadow temporarily disappeared, swallowed up in the greater darkness just as it tried to swallow me. We stepped under a streetlight, and the Shadow returned, reminding me of my fate. I pulled my coat tighter around me.
We got home at quarter to nine. We had only a precious few minutes left. He went into his room and changed shirts. I paced around the living room, not sure what to do. The Shadow followed me, watching, waiting. I stopped in front of the TV and took in my distorted reflection in the black glass. I saw a sad, small man in his thirties, with graying hair and features so bland he might as well be a shadow himself. I saw a man who'd forgotten how to smile.
The TV area looked empty without Kevin's video games scattered out on the floor. “You got everything packed?"
“Yeah," Kevin answered, joining me, sporting his favorite Broncos shirt.
“Good."
We stood in awkward silence for a moment, neither one of us knowing what to say next. Even though the lights were on, the room seemed dim. A darkness had seeped into the walls. It surrounded my home and took over my life.
A pair of headlights cut through the windows as a car came up the gravel driveway. I checked my watch. Eight fifty. “I can't believe this," I complained. “It's the one time she's early."
Kevin didn't reply, and I suddenly felt guilty. He knew how his mother was always late.
The car stopped and honked twice. Kevin moved to the door. I held him back. “Let her get out and knock." I wanted these last few moments.
After a few more impatient honks, someone got out and knocked on the door. Kevin went to fetch his things. I opened the door, expecting to see my ex-wife. Instead it was Dirk the Dick. Diane sat in the car, a brand new Bonneville. My eyes went from the Nebraska tags to Diane's smug expression. “I'm the mother!" she'd screamed in the courtroom, as if that was all that mattered. “I'm the mother!"
I knocked over the baseball bat I kept by the door. I picked it up. The moment my fingers touched the polished wood, the Shadow surged through me and entered the bat. It suddenly grew into a giant, knotted club with a rusty nail the size of a railroad spike sticking out of one end. Oh, god, I could do some serious damage with this. I could plant that nail into that smiling mother-fucker's brain.
“Hey, shithead," Dirk the Dick was saying. “You going to stand there holding that bat all day, or are you going to give it to me. If that's Kevin's, you know Diane's going to want that, too."
He didn't see it. I looked at the club again and blinked. It had turned back into a normal bat. I handed it to him.
“This is your shit," Dirk the Dick said, pushing a box in my arms.
Kevin brought out his bags and gave them to Dirk the Dick, then turned to me. I put the box down. “I guess this is it."
“Yeah."
I pulled Kevin close to me and held him for a moment, taking in the scent of his shampoo, the feel of his body against me. “I'll come and see you." I whispered. Omaha seemed so far away.
“Come on, kid. Your mother's waiting."
I squeezed Kevin one last time before he pulled away and then walked out the door. Dirk the Dick let him get in the car, and then they drove off, taking my son to a strange new life in a town far, far away. That's what the cow judge had decided was in his best interest, that Kevin be taken away from his school, his friends and his dad, so he could live with a mother who couldn't even bother to get out of the car.
I turned to go back to the living room, and then stopped, noticing the box. Someone, either my ex or Dirk the Dick, had written something on its top in green letters. “Box for dork."
Before I had time to react, the car came back up the driveway and Kevin came back in. The boy was crying hard, fighting to keep it under a wail.
“Look at this," I shouted, pointing to the box. “She takes you away and leaves me with this!"
At that, his crying became hysterical. Oh, God, I wasn't mad at him. I pulled him close to me. “What's wrong?"
He could barely speak through the tears. “Mommy…. told…me… I… have… to… get…. my… Scout… uniform," he managed.
“Sure," I said. For a brief moment I'd hoped Diane had changed her mind. I knew better; she was the mother.
Kevin fetched his uniform.
“Did you get your badge?"
A nod.
We hugged again, and then he left, crying even harder than before.
I watched them drive off a second time, then closed the door. I didn't make a single step before I dropped down on my knees and laid down flat on my belly, bawling as loud as Kevin.
The Shadow, as if sensing my weakness, slithered to my side, pressed close against me, hugging me the way I had hugged my son. Soon, it covered me, became a film over my skin, then seeped in through my pores like Chinese water torture. It faded into my body, filled my veins and my thoughts and darkened my soul. I welcomed it. Anything to fill the emptiness I felt inside.
After a long time, I slowly sat up. The room seemed brighter now, but that could have been caused by the sting of the tears in my eyes. I noticed the box. Or perhaps the Shadow brought it to my attention. I opened it.
Inside were some things Diane must have accidentally taken with her during the move. There was a Santa costume I had worn a couple of Christmases ago, a few torn photos, some letters from my mom and a coffee mug that said Cheyenne Frontier Days on it with a picture of a cowboy roping a horse; something Diane bought for me last summer and I had never used. I had no appreciation for cowboy paraphernalia or any of the country music Diane used to force upon me. Rather than give me the literature and music I enjoyed, she'd insisted on giving me that crap, telling me to grow up and be a real man.
As if sensing the mug in my hand, the Shadow moved through me and entered the cup. Like a spell from one of Kevin's books, the mug turned into a handgun, its handle the trigger. I didn't know enough about guns to know what kind it was other than big and deadly. It felt good in my hand, and my thoughts filled with visions. I saw myself speeding like a demon on I-80, catching up to Diane and Dirk the Dick, forcing them off the road.
Bam! One shot to blow out a tire.
Bam! One shot in Dirk the Dick's head, right between the eyes. Maybe Diane would think I was a real cowboy then, uh-huh.
Bam! Diane! Nothing fatal, maybe in the kneecap or thigh. That way I could take my time with her, make her suffer for a while, treat her the way she treated me.
And then I'd take Kevin, and we'd go home.
The thoughts felt good and gave me a sense of energy I hadn't felt in a long time. The more I thought about it, the more the gun became real. The instrument of death was no longer an illusion or a trick of the eye. If anyone saw me with this, they'd see the gun, too. They'd see the power I wielded. The Shadow lived in it, making it come alive the same way it breathed new life into me.
I grabbed my keys and headed out the door.
***
I drove as fast as I could, pegging the Jeep's speedometer at 110, slowing down every time I came up behind a car that might be theirs. But each time, the car was either the wrong make or the wrong color.
I raced through Pine Bluffs and crossed the Nebraska state line. I couldn't reach them. Too much time had passed. They were probably in North Platte by now. I pulled over on the shoulder in front of a large billboard that showed a cowboy tipping his hat. Welcome to Nebraska. I grabbed the gun and got out. If I couldn't shoot them, then I'd shoot the sign, make it pay for my loss. Make the whole goddamn state pay for having Dirk the Dick as one of it residents.
The guy on the billboard was a real Nebraska cowboy, a real man, a real bar angel. The guy even looked like Dirk the Dick. Maybe it was. Maybe if I killed him, I'd kill that bastard, too, like some sort of cowboy voodoo shit. I aimed at Dirk the Dick, put my finger on the trigger, and closed my eyes.
I suddenly became weightless, floating in the darkness behind my eyelids. True darkness, darker than any phantom shadow. I squeezed the trigger, felt nothing, and squeezed again. I opened my eyes. Nothing had happened to the sign, no bullet holes. The gun was worthless.
I threw it at the billboard. It hit the cowboy in the chin and shattered into a hundred tiny pieces of ceramic. I'd been holding a mug the whole time. I closed my fists and screamed.
Months of hurt and sorrow, full of pent-up anger, come forth with my voice, and I felt something escape from me as I screamed. The Shadow stood before me like a mirror image, a silhouette of my soul. It hung in the air, pulsating, one moment becoming large and all consuming, and the next growing small, weak, transparent. It waited.
My scream faded into a whimper. “What do you want from me? All I want is my life back. Can't you see that? That's all. I just want my life back."
The Shadow grew for a moment, reaching out, trying to connect with me. It could give me life and so much more. I raised my hand, then suddenly pulled away.
“No," I shouted. “I'm not going to kill anyone!"
It shrunk, pulling away from me as well.
“I refuse to put Kevin through that, not on top of everything else. Did you hear me? I refuse to do that to Kevin."
The Shadow turned into a mist, breaking apart, dissolving before my eyes.
And then it was gone.
The night seemed brighter now. The clouds had opened up, giving way to the stars that now filled the moonless Nebraska sky. Steam escaped my breath, rising like a pure white mist before my eyes. For the first time in months, I felt like I could breathe.
I got in my Jeep, sat down, and noticed the unopened mail I'd tossed on the back seat. One of the letters was an application I'd sent off for from a school district in Omaha. I opened it, looked over the contents, reviewed the pay scale and benefits package. They needed elementary teachers, too.
I looked up at the Welcome to Nebraska billboard. A row of lights were lined up at its base, each one turned at an angle to illuminate the sign, or perhaps to point me in the direction I needed to go.
I put the Jeep into first and pulled back onto the highway, paying no attention to the dark speck that followed.