Bloodline

Daniel considered himself a civilized person.  He couldn’t imagine hurting anyone physically, yet he knew hurting someone emotionally could be even worse.  Nevertheless, that was his plan.  Maybe not directly, but his decision to quit college would have the same effect.  It would hurt his dad.

Daniel dreaded going home so he tried to hang on for another semester, which turned out to be a mistake.  He was distracted, in a way, already gone.  He went to class only half the time, didn’t study, didn’t even read.  When midterm finally rolled around, Daniel packed up his things and loaded his pick-up truck.  He was ready to lock the apartment when his roommate Tyler showed up.

“I’ll send my part of the rent for next month,” he said.  “That’ll give you time to find another roommate.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Tyler said.

“I’m going to.  It’s only fair.”
Tyler stared into Daniel’s face for a moment then he said, “Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?”

“I’m not sure.  I wish I was,” Daniel said, looking around the apartment that had been home for almost three years.  “It just feels like the right thing for me right now.  Hard to explain,” he said, punctuating his words with a long puff of air.  “My biggest problem is telling my dad.”

“I know,” Tyler said.  “I wish you luck with that.”

“Well, I better get going and face the music,” Daniel said, with a pretense at humor, reaching for Tyler’s hand who gave him a bear hug instead.  “Hang in there and don’t let school get you down.  I’ll send the rent money.  Forward my phone bill and my share of the utilities.  By then, I should have some kind of flunky job to get me through.  No more peanut butter sandwiches for this kid!” he said.  They both laughed, a good way to say goodbye.

The drive home would take only a couple hours, much too short to suit Daniel.  Halfway home he stopped to get a hamburger and kill time, postponing the inevitable.  Daniel kept thinking about his dad and how proud he was the day he drove him to college.  Daniel was excited and eager too, but something changed during those three years.  Difficult to put a finger on it.  Somewhere along the way, he lost his energy and focus.  He changed majors three times and that didn’t help.  His grades were okay, but he didn’t care any longer.  Maybe it was because he missed his girlfriend.  Lisa was going to another college over 200 miles away.  They made it work for a while then the calls and letters slowed down to a trickle.  One night on the telephone, Lisa told Daniel not to come down that weekend because she was going out with friends.  The next weekend she was busy in a study group.  Not long after that, she said she only wanted to be friends.  A couple of months later, Daniel heard Lisa was dating someone new.  And that was it.  The funny thing was, well not funny, but ironic, Lisa had fallen in love with Daniel first, long before he fell for her.  She used to say things like “always,” and “I love you, I love you, I love you.”  One time she baked cookies, took a bite out of one and sent the cookie to Daniel with a romantic note.  She was amazing in that way, very romantic and spontaneous.  It took Daniel a long time to fall in love with Lisa, and not long after he fell in love with her, she decided that she didn’t love him.  Where did all that love go?  It could not have hurt more if she had cut him with a knife.

Daniel tossed his fries and half his sandwich into the trash, refilled his coke at the fountain, got in his truck and headed down I-79.  He drove through Clarksville in a daze, then got off at his exit and turned south.  He was on autopilot.  He continued along the familiar country road, skirting the Guyandotte River, then turned off onto a side road and was sitting in his parent’s gravel driveway before reality slapped him out of his stupor.  It was Saturday and his dad’s green pickup was in the driveway.  Daniel sat motionless in his truck taking in the familiar sights, the red brick two story that had always been home, the path leading up the hill behind the barn to the woods where Daniel and his dad used to hunt wood grouse.  Normally, it would be great to be home, but on this day, he felt dread like something terrible was about to happen.

Daniel slid out of his truck, crunching the gravel with his heels, and went to the front door.  The door was locked so he knocked, but no answer.  There was the distant sound of a power saw running in the basement.  He figured his dad was down there doing woodwork.  His mother was probably shopping or maybe getting her hair done.  Daniel imagined it would be easier if she were home.  Daniel got his key out, opened the door and walked through the foyer toward the basement.  The basement door was beside the kitchen, so he detoured into the kitchen for a snack, another stalling tactic.  The sawing stopped and he could hear whistling and humming.  Daniel walked quietly across the kitchen floor and stopped at the refrigerator.  The saw started again so he opened the refrigerator and took out the milk.  He found Oreo cookies in the cabinet next to the fridge.  He sat on a stool at the kitchen island and poured a cold glass of milk.  He took a bite of cookie and washed it down with a gulp that hurt his throat.  The cookie and milk hit his stomach in a cold lump.  He lay his head down on the counter-top.  It felt smooth and cool.  He stared sideways at the country kitchen, oak cabinets, oak table and chairs, hardwood floor, old-fashioned kitchen sink with gooseneck faucet.  The black and white cow clock above the sink seemed to say 6:15, but it was actually 3:00 p.m.  The sawing stopped.  The milk tried to come back up and he held it down with effort.  He had to do it now or get in his truck and drive back to school.

Daniel got up slowly, set the glass in the sink, walked to the basement door, put his hand on the doorknob and opened the door.  The stairs descended down to a landing then turned 90 degrees and continued down to the basement floor.  As soon as he reached the landing, only seven steps down, he would probably see his dad.  The saw started up again.  He gripped the handrail and stepped down.  He got to the landing and turned the corner.  The house was built on a hillside with a walkout basement.  French doors faced south inviting the afternoon sun.  Sunbeams angled down to the floor cutting his dad at the knees.  His dad was standing at the radial saw with his back turned.  He wore a plain white T-shirt and blue jeans.  Obviously, he was violating one of Mom’s rules, working with power tools while she was away.  Apparently, he was in a hurry to get the job done.  He hit the off switch and the shiny blade stopped whining and began coasting down.  He turned half way around so Daniel took the final step down the stairs and forced a big smile.  His dad gave a start and almost dropped the board.

“Wow, you just about gave me a heart attack,” he said.
Daniel stood by the basement steps and didn’t say anything.  His dad hurried over and gave him a big hug.

“Daniel, this is a nice surprise,” he said, with a smile, eyes sparkling. “Your mom’s shopping and I’m breaking the law,” he continued with a laugh.

Normally, Daniel would be enjoying the joke, but not now.  His mouth was full of cotton and his hands were clammy.  The question would come very soon.  Daniel’s heart was pounding, making his chest move with each beat.  He felt like he was getting ready to parachute off the New River Gorge Bridge.  He held his breath, stepped to the edge, then over.

“Dad, I quit school,” he said, staring at the floor, avoiding his dad’s eyes.

“Son, what do you mean?”

“I quit.  I dropped out,” Daniel said

“You must have a good reason.  What’s wrong?  What happened?”

“Nothing is wrong.  I just felt like getting out,” Daniel said.  The words sounded hollow and childish now that he was standing in front of his dad, the man he knew who would never quit or run out on a job.

“I don’t understand.  I thought you liked school,” his dad said, his voice trailing off to a whisper.

Daniel stared at the floor and didn’t respond, couldn’t think of anything to say that would make sense.  Suddenly, his father’s focus changed.  He stood up straight and put his hands on Daniels shoulders, with a steady, reassuring voice he said,

“This must be tough for you.  Listen to me son, no matter what, I back you one hundred percent on your decision, one hundred percent,” he said firmly.

It wasn’t at all what Daniel expected.  He never expected the goodness and kindness that was his father.  It reminded him of something he’d heard as a child in Sunday school, “God is full of grace and mercy.”

“Come on now, cheer up.  Things will work out.  I’m glad you’re home.  Anyway, I need your help with this board I’m having trouble getting the right angle on,” he said with a big grin.  “I’ll hold the board and you cut to the line with the saw,” he said, motioning to the circular saw.  “I haven’t been able to get it with the radial saw.”

Daniel picked up the circular saw.  It felt heavy and cold in his hand.

“See the line?  Okay, let me hold it like this, now go ahead,” his father said.

Daniel gripped the handle and pulled the smooth metal trigger.  The saw blade sliced through the board like a piece of paper.  His father’s hand held the board firmly.  Daniel stared at the hand.  He held the trigger down and pushed the saw blade past the pencil line.  The saw blade pulled the hand in like a swirling drain, sucked the hand into the whirlpool blade making a loud clanging sound, like a piece of raw meat slapping an iron skillet.  And just like that, the hand folded back on itself and for an instant revealed tendons and shattered bone.  Then blood filled the gaping cut and spurted onto his father’s white T-shirt and down into the sawdust.  His father gazed at the wound astonished.  Then he closed his eyes and let out a terrible painful grunt.  He grabbed his wounded hand and squeezed it tightly smothering the squirting blood, but the crimson liquid ran freely between his white knuckles and dripped heavy drops onto the basement floor. Daniel tore his shirt off and began frantically wrapping the sawn appendage, warm blood splattered his face and hair and down his bare chest.  He squeezed tightly on the makeshift bandage, but it turned red almost immediately and soaked through.  Already there was a pool of blood on the floor.  His father was becoming lethargic and he leaned against Daniel.

“I’ll call for help,” Daniel said, barely able to control the panic in his voice.  He helped his father to the basement stairs, leaving a thick trail of blood along the cold concrete floor.  “Sit here,” he yelled, running up the stairs.  He was gone for only seconds, but by the time he returned, his father was passed out on the floor.  Daniel picked up the limp hand and squeezed it as tightly as he could and the blood slowed to a trickle.  His father was pale and clammy and his breathing rapid and shallow.  The paramedics arrived quickly and transported his father to the hospital without delay, siren screaming.

Daniel slumped down on the basement floor and leaned back against the block wall, feet spread apart, arms stretched out beside his legs, palms up, his head, chest, and arms covered with blood.  The siren faded in the distance.  The basement was quiet.  Through half closed eyes he watched the rays of the afternoon sun angling to the floor.  Dust particles seemed to ride on the rays, some rising up and some falling down the same brilliant light.