Seth
Chapter 2: Fences

“Oh, no. No, not this….”

Jennifer Daniels stood staring down at the bent posts and tangled fencing that lay scattered in the field. To the back and left of her, the few remaining cows she had were grazing quietly, their tails swishing from side to side as they ate.

Thankfully none of them had managed to escape onto her neighbor Tom Waite’s property, but regardless if they had or not, the fence would still have to be repaired. That was easier said than done considering she would have to not only drive into town to purchase the materials, but would also have to do the repairs herself. Stringing up the fencing alone would be hard enough, but then to dig the holes for the new posts without a tractor? Next to impossible.

Maybe I can hire someone to do all that. There’s always people advertising at the local farm store, she thought as she carefully stood up the bent T-posts and set them back in the ground. They leaned slightly to the side, but that would have to do for now. As for the tangled barbed wire, the most she could manage was to roll it out into more or less a straight line before wrapping it securely around the posts. She had her gardening gloves in the pocket of her jacket, and while they didn’t hold a candle to the thicker, more durable work gloves she typically wore whenever she fed the cows or cleaned the barn, they were better than nothing.

When she was finished, the fence looked slanted, but it held. This was only a temporary repair, but it would be enough to keep the cows in for now. If something were to spook them again and they stampeded it wouldn’t hold up. They would wind up right on Tom Waite’s property, and then she would have no choice but to go over there and talk to him face to face.

That was something she had worked tirelessly over the past seven months to avoid. Tom was as nice a person as they came, and in the days and weeks after Seth’s death, he had taken over the feeding and care of her cows and had done routine chores around the property. Gerald had by then begun to withdraw, and with her firmly in the grip of a paralyzing and debilitating grief, the whole place would have gone under if not for Tom.

When Gerald finally left for parts unknown, he had continued to offer his assistance. Jennifer didn’t know much about him other than he had moved to these parts after she and her estranged husband bought the place, and everyone spoke very highly of him. He had a gentlemanly charm about him, was quiet spoken and polite, was single and—according to the gossip in town—was quite a catch, but Jennifer couldn’t seem to face him without being reminded of her son.

When Seth hadn’t come home from his exploring one day, she and Gerald had called everyone they knew to help comb the woods and surrounding area to search for him. The local sheriff, friends, neighbors, everyone in the town it seemed had come out, flashlights in hand, to look for their son. She herself had traipsed through the woods, frantically calling out to Seth, and just when she came to the dry riverbed, she had seen a figure up ahead. The sun was already beginning to set, but even in the dim light she could tell that the figure was that of an adult and not her son.

On the ground lay another figure, much smaller, child size.

Whoever it was they weren’t moving, and as she broke into a run, certain that her son had been found, the larger figure turned and she recognized it as Tom.

He immediately spun around, blocking her path. “I wouldn’t do that.” He held up both hands as he took her by the shoulders, drawing her back.

“Are you crazy? That’s my son! Seth, Seth!”

The figure lying on the ground didn’t respond, and something in the way Tom was gently holding her at arm’s length as he steered her away made her cold with fear. His eyes were red-rimmed and he was shaking as he continued to try to turn her back. “Stop. Just please stop.” He kept trying to block her view of the still figure with his body, and she, refusing to believe that anything serious had happened, fought and clawed at him.

“Don’t…Mrs. Daniels!”

She was shouting, practically roaring at him as she fought to get free, yet still the figure remained silent and unmoving on the ground.“My son, my baby…!”

Tom’s expression was filled with grief and he slowly nodded his head. “Yes, that’s your son. I found him.”

“Let go of me you bastard, he needs me!”

Tom shook his head. “No.” He remained steadfast, refusing to let her go. Her breath was coming in short, labored pants, and her hands stung where she had struck him. He kept his gaze on her, his expression full of sympathy as he shook his head again. “Your son doesn’t need anything right now. He’s in a better place, and he needs you to be strong for yourself and your family.” He leaned down so that their faces were almost touching as he whispered to her: “You don’t need to see; I know you love your son and always will, so it’s best that you remember him the way he was, not as he is now.” A shudder seemed to pass through him and he exhaled sharply. “You leave all that to bastards like me.”

A small moan escaped her lips and she began to shake all over as her anger ebbed away and was replaced by grief. That was her son lying motionless on the ground, and Tom, kind-hearted soul that he was, was doing everything in his power to prevent her from seeing what had become of him.

With a wail her knees gave out and she sank down to the ground, the stones and pebbles lining the riverbed digging sharply into her calves and thighs. Tom gently eased her down and held her tight to him as she sobbed uncontrollably, his strong arms holding her upright. He had carefully turned her to the side so that his shoulders continued to block her view of the body—for that was what it was—as it lay motionless on the ground.

“Shh, shh. It’s going to be alright, it’s going to be alright.” His hands rubbed soothing circles against her back as he held her, the scent of soap and alfalfa hay mingling with the warmth of his skin. She was trembling so violently she would have to be carried back to the house—Tom had done that as well, as finally other members of the search team discovered them and then the whole scene took on a nightmarish quality. People descended on the dry riverbed with radios squawking and headlamps on, and when the paramedics carefully edged their way down the embankment with the body board and yellow tarp in hand, she went into hysterics.

Gerald had stood off to the side staring blankly at everything that was unfolding before him, and it had been Tom who had restrained her when the tarp was spread over the body of her son. Soon after that she must have lost consciousness, because the next thing she remembered she was waking up on the couch in the middle of her crowded living room. Friends and family had immediately surrounded her, but it was Tom’s face she had sought out in the melee. He was standing near the entrance way, his hat clutched respectfully in his hands as he met her gaze from across the room. He nodded politely and then turned to go as everyone began to offer their condolences, their voices and faces overlapping one another until they became a wall of sound and color.

That had been seven months ago, and even though their properties were butted up against each other and Gerald had allowed Tom to help around the place from time to time, their paths hadn’t crossed since.

“Morning.”

She started, nearly dropping her gloves, which she had been in the process of shoving back into her jacket pockets.

Sure enough, there stood Tom in work boots, jeans, and a battered Carhartt jacket on his side of the fence. He must have been walking along the fence line, because there was no sign of a vehicle anywhere, and his boots were wet with the early morning dew. He stopped at a respectful distance away and tipped his hat in greeting.

“Fence seems to have taken a good licking.” He motioned towards the small herd of cows still grazing happily in the field. “Looks like they’re all there. That meteor shower this morning must have spooked them.”

She hurriedly dug her hands in the pockets of her jacket. “Mr. Waites.”

The flesh around his eyes puckered slightly at her formal tone, but he had the good grace not to show it. “My own fence was knocked down near the south pasture, but odd thing is, I don’t have any livestock there. You reckon a meteor took it down?”

“I…it’s possible, yes.” She risked a glance up and found him staring at her, a neutral expression on his face. She knew that avoiding him because he conjured up memories of the night her son was found dead was wrong, but she couldn’t help it. The memories were just too vivid and the wounds still fresh to allow for anything else.

Tom cleared his throat and nodded thoughtfully. “I was just on my way to town to buy materials to make the repairs. I’ve got a couple of buddies coming over who are going to help me. If you want, we could stop by and give you a hand. If you need it, that is.”

Dammit, it was if he could see right through her. True, this kind of repair required more than one person to fix it properly, but she knew in her heart that Tom was just being Tom.

He stood quietly, his gaze carefully averted as he awaited her response.

“You don’t need to see; I know you love your son and always will, so it’s best that you remember him the way he was, not as he is now.” A shudder seemed to pass through him and he exhaled sharply. “You leave all that to bastards like me.”

She let her breath out slowly. “Actually…yes. I don’t have a tractor and without it, well…you know how difficult it would be.”

He nodded. “We should be done with my fence by the afternoon, and we can stop by then. If that’s alright.”

Stop treating him like it’s his fault Seth’s gone. Just be neighborly, but for goodness sakes, at least be polite.

“I’ll put some dinner on for you. No doubt you’ll all be hungry by then, and it’s the least I can do to thank you.” Not to mention it will make me feel like I’m being useful.

“I don’t want to put you out none. I—we—don’t mind.”

She shook her head. “No, I insist.”

He considered her words and then nodded. “That’s sounds great. I haven’t had a home cooked meal in years, and I know my friends will appreciate it too.” He reached across the fence and extended his hand. “It’s a deal.”

“You leave all that to bastards like me.”

She gingerly took his hand, the flesh warm against hers. “Deal.”