Chapter
1.11- Something You Choose
Nothing makes
us so lonely as our secrets.
Paul Tournier
Steve
was working hard with Cyrus while Helen was out taking photos. Cyrus wanted to keep up with
Steve so badly, and walking was going to be far faster than crawling.
Steve
never thought he could be this attached to Cyrus. It made him long to have one
he could really call his own. Secretly, he hoped he could talk Helen into it.
He was very afraid that she had shut the baby shop up for good, she had hinted
in the last few days that two kids had been quite enough.
Cyrus
was begging for more attention, but as he kissed the downy head Steve knew that
his work hours were looming and he really needed to shower and dress.
“Steed
pway wid Cy,” Cyrus begged.
“Naw
kiddo, got work today, Mama will come home and play. Maybe she’ll help you
run.”
Ignoring
the tantrum Cyrus proceeded to throw was difficult, but he intended to stick to
his guns.
Things
didn’t work out the way Steve wanted most of the time, but this was a real
joke. He was shocked by the amount of dripping plumbing in the bathroom. The sink,
the bathtub, the toilet and the shower were all in need of some work.
“Why,
Helen,” he thought ruefully. “Why didn’t you tell me all this needed fixed
today?”
Steve
hadn’t had a promotion, or a raise, at work yet. They had wiped out the little
amount of money they had buying and furnishing this house. And the house looked more
like a money pit each day. He wanted to ask the Caretaker if he would be so
kind or find it in his heart to help this struggling young couple by rewarding
the work Steve did, but he knew he would never have the courage to ask.
Passing
out a work almost any time he heard something strange, or if the wind blew too
loud or cold, didn’t make a very good impression on his boss either. He had
taken the job because Helen had insisted. There was no way he would admit his
cowardice to her. And so he was stuck at the job wishing that for just one
night he wouldn’t faint. Then maybe they could afford to get a new sink, a new
bed, a better toilet, a nicer tub, and the list went on and on.
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…
Crickets.
…
…
Awkward
silence. Deafening quiet. Thick tension. Awe inspiring fear.
…
He’s
going to die in his sleep tonight. Steve knows it just like he knows the sun
will rise in the morning.
Though
her thoughts aren’t exactly bent the same way, Helen thinks it’s very likely
that he’ll not be sleeping in the same bed with her that night. She’s
embarrassed. More importantly, she’s hurt.
She
thought she knew him, knew everything about his personality and likes that
could matter. She thought the only thing she didn’t know was his name. How
wrong she was.
Taking
a deep breath, he dives in. There is no other way. He’d really like the
continued use of all his limbs. She might just dismember him if he doesn’t do
something soon.
“Look,”
Steven’s voice is shaky. “It just happened. It’s not like I planned it.
Besides, it’s happened before, just never quite so… badly… before. The old man
knows about it, I usually just wake up drenched and he laughs at me and we go
on.”
A
glance to his right shows her still scowling at him.
“It’s
not a big deal, really.”
Her
sharp intake warns him not to add another word.
“Not a
big deal.”
Steve notes the soft note under her growl, taking heart.
Steve notes the soft note under her growl, taking heart.
“You’ve
never been there after dark. You’ve never seen what really goes on there.”
“It’s
usually just one or two,” Steve rushes on. “But tonight it was all of ‘em, all
of ‘em, and they rose up faster’n normal too and I just… couldn’t take it.”
He
raised his hands helplessly. Trying to illustrate how the ghosts tonight had
put on a show with the caretakers assistance, trying to see what would happen
if Steve saw all of the ghosts in the memorial gardens rise at the exact same moment.
Usually, Steve would pass out when he saw a few of them wandering around palely
in the moonlight. He’d just never told Helen, sure she wouldn’t believe in the
ghost sightings.
He
closed his eyes against the look he’s sure is on her face. Anger,
embarrassment, disgust.
His
boss had called Helen to come and pick him up after he was sure he had
accidentally killed him. Steve had remained unconscious no matter what he did.
The usual bucket of ice water had done nothing. Screaming in his ear, beating
on his chest, and shaking him had produced no results either.
Steve
had finally come around on his own in the taxi, his head on the lap of a very
angry Helen. Almost the only thing he had heard her say since coming to was a barked
order to the driver to take them home instead of to the ER.
Noticing
his pain, Helen felt a swift stab of relief. She couldn’t bear it if something happened to him, and she had
been terrified that the old man had killed her lover trying to play some
practical joke.
“And
now you despise me.” Steve finally said.
Sighing,
he opened his eyes and waited for her to say something.
…
…
He
would call an exterminator in the morning to deal with the annoying cricket
that had to be lurking in a kitchen cabinet somewhere.
…
“I have
never said I despise you,” Helen finally spoke. “And you will never hear me say
it. It was a mean joke, he shouldn’t have done it. Anyone would be scared
seeing things ‘rise’ out of the ground all at once in a cemetery.”
This
time, it was Steve who had no response.
“I’m
just marveling because you’re telling me that this has happened before, only on
a smaller scale,” Helen was truly most angry at the caretaker. She’d strangle
him if she could. “Why are you still working there if the place terrifies you
and the old man is mean?”
“You’re
the one who told me to go n’ work there!” Steve almost exploded at Helen.
Alarmed,
Helen’s eyes widened. She wasn’t afraid he would do anything, she was afraid he
would over-exert himself and she’d have to take him to the hospital for real
this time.
“You
told me thet a ‘big man’ like I am should go and work there, thet et was a good
job! So I did! I did it to please you!”
Far
from being intimidated, or even frightened, she almost liked his anger.
Her eyes were greedy, and she smiled a little, making him angrier.
“Everyone!
Fer as long as I could remember thought I was supposed to be the big bad man.
The strong one, the bold one, the fierce one,” Louder than necessary, Steve
pounded his hands on his legs to emphasize his points. “Buck shouldn’t be
afraid of a little ole storm! Et’s good fer ‘em to spend a night in the barn
while the cows are calvin’. Mary, yer
coddlin’ Buck! He needs to learn how to gut a deer, I’ll make a man of ‘em!
Buck…” finally his words trailed off into tears. “Yer sister needs ya, save
‘er. Show me what a man ya are.”
“Buck
Sixkiller?” Helen smiles to herself.
“Buck Gunner Sixkiller.” He doesn’t even seem
to notice that Helen is even beside him. His eyes are focused somewhere far
away.
“PlumbBob,
you look so much more like a ‘Buck’ than a ‘Steve’, I’m just kinda shocked…”
‘Heaven!
I’m in heaven!’ Birds twittered above her head. She loved it.
“Glad you like it.”
“What’s
wrong with it?”
“What’s
wrong with et is I didn’t live up to et.”
“Think
you could tell me?”
It was
a moment Buck hoped wouldn’t happen. He hated that he felt he should relive his
failures just to explain why he is who he is.
“My
name is a conflict in an' of etself. My mom wanted te name me Gunner, I think
she meant Gunter like 'er grandaddy, but she couldn’t pronounce et right.
Hell, he probly didn’t pronounce et right. My dad wanted me te be Buck after
his dad, and his dad and his dad as well as 'imself.”
Small
amounts of relief washed over him. It was good to tell Helen the truth, though
his past was no fun for him.
“My
dad’s great-grandfather was half Shawnee an' the name was special to the
fam'ly,” he warmed up to his story as he went along. “So he won et namin’ me
Buck, but my Mama would sometimes call me Gunner outta love. She knew I wasn’
goin’ to be like thet. My little brother was the big strong manly man. Trigger liked
huntin’ and fishin’ and farmin’. But 'e wasn’ ‘Buck Gunner Sixkiller,’ I was
the oldest and suppost to be jus’ like 'e was,” Bitterness flooded him. “Et
weren’t fair to either of us. He was good and tried te be nice to me, but my
dad jus’ kep’ tryin’ to force et outta me.”
“He
said I needed to live up te the Sixkiller name an’ prove I was a man.”
Fear
started to creep into Helen’s brain. These people sounded a little vicious to
her.
“We
wen’ out campin’ as a family. There was a mountain campsite not to far from our
place. It was beautiful in the spring. Everythin’ a real sof' green. It was too
cold for my mama and my sister, heck, it was too cold at night for all of us in
the little camper we took. But the days were wonderful and softly warm. The
fish would be bitin’ real good, and we’d fish fer hours.”
He sighed,
not really wanting to go into this, but he’d make it clean. This was a one time
telling.
“My
sister, Anna Claire, liked to fish from this little island in the middle of the
stream. Truth be told, it was the best fishin’ spot ‘round there, but Dad
didn’t like us to go out there case there was a flash flood ‘n we couldn’t get
off it safely. Spring rains can come up sudden, and if they’re at the top o'
the mountain the water comes down quick. But Dad weren’t there thet time. He 'n Mama had climbed up to some look out point fer sentimental reasons. By the
time they got back down, the water was too fast and too high fer any of us. He
were most mad at me fer lettin’ 'er get out there when it jus’ weren’t safe. So
he made me try to go and git ‘er.” He sighed heavily, looking at his hands.
“Mama
begged ‘im not to send me out, said she’d lose two kids if he did. But he
wanted Anna Clare back more ‘n he wanted me around at any point. So he pushed
me into the water to get ‘er.”
The
churning in Helen's stomach made her want to vomit. How could any parent be so
mean?
“It
were too fast fer me to even try to swim in. I got swept away pretty soon, but
I was lucky thet I had started out near the bank in the first place. When Anna
Clare got swept off…” Buck’s voice trailed away.
Helen
had nothing to comfort him with. She couldn’t even imagine. It made her hiding
her name and hair color seem petty, juvenile at best. But Buck didn’t continue.
She could guess at the ending. It at least explained why his mother moved the
family to the city. As well as how his father’s anger most likely pushed him
from the house before he was ready, which is why she met up with him in those
woods with little to nothing for survival. Only a wonderful working knowledge
of flora and fauna.
“So
that’s why you’re afraid of the water.” Helen’s heart was breaking for him. His
face betrayed his emotion, the turmoil in his eyes painful even to her.
“Don’
like it,” Buck mumbled.
A
question still niggled Helen.
“Why
Steve?” Helen’s voice was hushed, tears in her eyes. His story had distressed
her very much, made her skin crawl.
“Steve
didn’ sound like someone anyone would care much about if he didn’ like water
and fainted when 'e got scared. Steve sounded like a pretty nice guy, a pretty
even guy... a pretty common guy.”
Helen
laughed a little at his description of ‘Steve.’ It forced Buck to look up and
snort a bit ruefully also, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes yet. He still
heard Anna Clare scream, his father yell, Mama’s cries. Again and again he could see the water swirling,
feel it in his lungs, burning when he slept too deeply or when he got too close
to moving water. He had trouble taking a shower sometimes, even after all the
years that had passed.
The
pain was getting less lately though, and he hoped his retelling of the tale
wouldn’t bring on the night terrors again. He wasn’t sure how Helen would take
that.
“I get
why you didn’t want to tell me your name,” Helen said. “And it’s a horrible
horrible story about your sister. And your dad…”
The
anger welling up in her was a little unexpected. But, in some ways… she just…
she got it. She got how he could be
so angry at a father who didn’t understand him, didn’t know him and didn’t
bother. Craig hadn’t bothered until her and Peter had made the effort. Then
when they had moved in, he really didn’t take the time to get to know them at
all, preferring to keep his distance. At the time, Helen and Peter had been
grateful for it. Kristine’s presence had been crushing, Craig was barely there.
Seeing
how distressed he had made her, Buck pulled her under his arm. She snuggled up
with a sigh.
“It’s
over now,” he told her. “It’s all in the past. This is where I am now. With
you.”
The
thrill running up Helen’s spine was wonderful. She shivered and snuggled
closer.
“So,
can I call you Buck? Steve never did come easily to my tongue. It just didn’t
fit.”
It took
him so long to answer that she turned, wanting to make sure she hadn’t offended
him.
Looking
at her, he calmed. After all, what was in a name other than what you put in it?
“Sure,
Princess,” his easy grin touching his lips. “You can call me Buck.”
Letting
his pet name for her slide was more difficult than she thought. But for once,
it wasn’t said in jest, it was said gently, tenderly, and she had enjoyed it.
“Hey,”
Helen said. “Tomorrow? Why don’t you quit at the graveyard. Go find something
you’d rather do. Something you choose.”
Squeezing
her, “Sure thing,” Buck answered. “Sure thing.”
In bed
that night, Buck slept peacefully despite himself. Instead of dreams of horror,
he dreamed of the future he wanted to build himself.
And he
dreamed of Helen.
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Some people have genuinely awful names in real life. I feel
very sorry for those people. There are times I like to have fun with my sims
names and to be honest, this is indeed one of them with Buck Gunner Sixkiller at
the butt of it. I do not intend for many of my other sims in this legacy to
bear the burden of awful names, but until I see how this all shapes up, I
cannot promise not to have a little fun with the last name Sixkiller. These
names are common in our area, as we live extremely close to an Indian
reservation. My husband works with a guy surnamed Squirrel.
My last name got me teased in school from the time I was
little all the way through high school. Though I’d love to leave that out, kids
are cruel sometimes and life sucks. But you learn, and you move on. Sometimes,
you even take it and grow.
Buck has been updated in the Generational Goals tab with his real name and I added the Coward and Hydrophobic trait on his listing.
Buck has been updated in the Generational Goals tab with his real name and I added the Coward and Hydrophobic trait on his listing.
