Saving You

[Discordant]

Chad's strategy for monopoly never changed, and it was as ill-fated as ever. He simply bought up every piece of property he landed on without a care for either saving money or collecting matching sets. It was as if he just expected the gods of randomness to see him through. If he could buy a house, he always did, even if Ellen wasn't due to pass by that property for at least a few turns. This left him with little money on hand to pay for landing on her properties or even the measly $50 it cost to get out of jail. He didn't care though. He simply moved his rock, the piece he always chose, around the board enjoying the moment. Playing games was never about winning. It was simply about having fun and enjoying the company of friends and loved ones.

But a funny thing happened as they played. The woes of the world slipped away. The here and now dissolved into an amalgamation of so many fond childhood memories. In his mind's eye, the board transformed into an unblemished masterpiece, the cards and money restored to their original vibrant colors. He could experience the tree house as it had been, with a new coat of paint and the smell of freshly cut lumber.

At one point, he reached out to take Ellen's hand. He squeezed it lightly, the way two young children might, reassuring each other that the other was still by their side to help them through whatever new twist the world had to offer their unfinished minds.

"I'm sorry," he said, as he landed on one of her hotels and relinquished the last of his cash, but he wasn't referring to the game at all. "I should have tried harder. We were so close and then… I know people drift a part… change, but I never expected it to happen to us. And then one day you wake up and your best friend is nowhere to be found. But I promise, it won't happen again. Now that you're back in my life, I won't give that up ever."

 

[Lillian Gray]

Ellen smirked when Chad landed on yet another of her hotels. She only had a few pieces on the board, but what with her trading and grouped colors, she'd been able to rake in more cash than Chad when making rounds around the faded Monopoly board. It was almost like they were kids again, nothing, aside from the worn paint, had changed about the game. They had the same pieces, the same strategy, and yet again it was Ellen who'd claim the day.

Yet, there was still something missing. It wasn't as satisfying to beat him now, it was just another win to add to her tally.

"I just figured that it'd go differently." Ellen admitted to his apology. "I didn't want to leave you behind, but I got so caught up in being able to do whatever I wanted, you know? I'm the one who should be saying sorry."

She brought their hands up so she could lean against the back of his hand. During their game, Ellen had only sunken further against his arm, the only comforting place now that the walls felt so small around her. They closed in the longer they stayed. only reminding her that the tree house she'd once loved had grown much older.

"Am I your best friend?" Ellen smiled, but not with joy. "I would've thought I lost that title when we just stopped talking."

 

[Discordant]

Chad couldn't help the tear forming at the corner of his eye. He leaned in to kiss her on the top of the head, as much to surreptitiously wipe away the tear before it spilled down his cheek as to comfort her.

"Of course you're my best friend," he said earnestly. "That's a title you can neither willingly nor accidently relinquish. I'm afraid you're stuck with it for life, my dear. I mean come on. A couple of years of not talking to each other can't erase all the important experiences only you and I shared. It's weird, but I don't think it's possible for me to ever be closer to anyone else in my life. Even if I get married, assuming anyone will have a drug dealing college reject, I won't be closer to her. I mean, I will have missed all those years of growing up together, so how could I be? You know, I always wondered what adults meant when they talked so lovingly about their formative years. I think now maybe I get it. You, Ellen, are my formative years. You shaped who I am in a way that no one else ever will."

He looked down at the board.

"So, is it to be another ass kicking? Or maybe you'll take mercy on this poor soul and decide we should try out that old fishing pole of yours instead."

 

[Lillian Gray]

Ellen was glad he couldn't see her face. She was overwhelmed with feelings of acceptance, and some kind of shame. That she could go years without talking to Chad and still retain the glorious title of his best friend was undeniably gratifying. Yet, he went beyond that, going as far to say she was still the closest person in his life.

It made her want to break out into a smile, kiss him on the lips and giggle like a school girl. She wanted to feel needed and necessary in some ways, who on this earth didn't want to feel like someone's number one? But, there was a guilt there. Ellen hadn't made any attempt to stay close in two years, and it was hard for her to admit something so intimate. It wasn't only her who'd shaped him, Chad had done a decent job of putting humor and voice into Ellen's life. Without him, her social skills would have been down in the gutter.

In the same breath he'd managed to change the conversation back to another round of the board game. Ellen sunk back until her forehead just barely rested against the back of Chad's shoulder and her back pressed hard against the lackluster walls of the tree house.

"I think..." Ellen's voice was barely a whisper. "Can we go back?"

She brought a hand up to her face to hide her features.

"I don't know how much longer I can be out here." She exhaled slowly. "I don't even think that pole works, and...I, God, I'm sorry. It's fine. You're only trying to help, what will it hurt if we try the thing out?"

 

[Discordant]

Chad could have gotten caught up in the weight of the moment, but he chose not to. Sentiment was good, healthy in fact, but he didn't want to replace Ellen's burden of grief with a different overwhelming emotion. It was important he said what he did, but he would not dwell on the matter. Now was the time to try and keep things light.

He shook his head at Ellen's last sentence, not wanting her to acquiesce to something she didn't really want to do. Besides, he was never much of a fisher. He simply didn't have the patience for that kind of activity.

"No, you're right," he said, "we should go. Besides, what do we have for bait? I suppose we can dig around in the mud for some worms, but… Maybe we'll come back in a few days and try it out, when we can do the whole thing right."

He began collecting the Monopoly pieces and putting them back in the box. No longer consumed by the delusions of nostalgic memories, he noticed what bad shape the board was in as he folded it and replaced it in the box. In truth, it probably only had a few more games left in it. Then the seem would burst and what was one board would suddenly become two.

"I tell you what. I'm guessing you haven't eaten breakfast. I'm also guessing its past lunch by now, but I'm really in the mood for breakfast food. What do you say we go back to my place and I'll cook us up some blueberry pancakes? What happens after that, I could not say. Unless you feel like you need to go back to your house or something. I really don't know what the police are expecting of you today."

 

[Lillian Gray]

"That sounds really good, honestly." Ellen tried to smile, doing her best to let some bit of joy pierce through the otherwise agonizing situation. Chad was doing his best to get her to feel better, and she could appreciate the inherent good it was doing.

She didn't say much afterwards, focusing more on keeping herself steady and her eyes dry. Ellen remembered something about the police wanting to talk to her, but chad was right. The local department wouldn't do much good in regards to a triple homicide, it was beyond their capabilities to handle an investigation with any grace. Ellen would still have to go in sometime. Both to identify her departed family, and to give a statement. She'd been more or less unable to speak when the officers first arrived, even though it had been hours prior it was a foggy blur in her mind.

What Chad had said, about her being his best friend, really struck a chord in Ellen. She wanted to speak up, tell him that she appreciated the sentiment, and would always welcome his friendship, but the moment had passed them by. It brought heat to her cheeks and she tried to brush it off as nothing more than the giddy aftereffects of adoration. Still, Ellen felt genuinely happy to hear that confession, if could even be called one.

They were soon back at the Metzger home, and Ellen slowly opened the door of Chad's car. She tugged on the sleeves of her borrowed clothes and waited for her friend to lead her back inside. Although she'd spent so much time at the home as a child, it felt difficult returning and trying to fit into place again. She'd been out of place for so long, she wondered if she'd settle into the same lifestyle she once knew, or if she'd simply be working against a current that wanted to wear her down.

"Do you think your dad is home?" She asked. "Does he know about..." Ellen left the question open ended.

 

[Discordant]

"No," Chad said as he got out of the car. "He comes home for an early lunch, so he probably got here right after we left for the tree house. I'm sure he's back at work now. I don't expect him to come back again for another few hours. Even then, he usually respects my privacy and doesn't just come down to the basement unannounced. It may sound strange, but he usually calls me before dropping in."

But the question filled him with sudden, short-lived trepidation. Would his father recognize the clothes Ellen wore? Would the old man realize they'd pilfered Amy Metger's old clothes? If so, how upset would he really be? Chad couldn't be sure, but he didn't want chance finding out.

By the time he led Ellen around the house and down the back stairs that fear had completely dissipated. It was replaced by the discovery that he'd had no time to clean the place after last night's drunk fest with Kevin. Remnants from an overturned Dorito bag lay scattered on the carpet. An open orange juice container sat on the coffee table, no doubt used to create mixed drinks, though considering what they were drinking last night that sounded like an astonishing bad idea. Most of the refuse (perhaps that was too strong a word) were from moments in the night Chad could only remember as vague snapshots. He still couldn't say exactly what they'd done for the majority of the evening.

Oh well, there was nothing he could do about the mess now.

Chad went to the kitchen, gathering ingredients from the refrigerator and cabinets. While not interested in pursuing a culinary career, he was more than comfortable in the kitchen. Chances were this skill set came from a good portion of his childhood living with father who could barely manage preparing frozen dinners. Of course, since the move to the basement, Chad had no idea what his father did to feed himself.

"If you want you can watch tv." He said, pointing with a spatula to the remote on the coffee table. "If you'd rather lay down for a little while, you can just crash on my bed. I can call you when the pancakes are ready."

 

[Lillian Gray]

"Okay, thanks." Ellen mumbled her short reply.

While a quick nap sounded like a heavenly occasion, she decided that might be better to sit more near to another human being. She wouldn't have said so out loud, but Ellen was entirely too grateful for Chad's company, even if they hadn't seen each other in years. They had plenty of catching up to do. Had Ellen been alone, instead of him rolling up in his car as he had that morning...

She picked the remote off the coffee table and made herself at home on Chad's beat up sofa, settling in with a protesting squeak of coils beneath the cushions. There were still remains from some sort of celebration around the room. Scraps of food as well as a few spills here and there adorned the area around her, but she paid it no mind and casually flipped the TV on. The first order of business was to silence the alarmingly loud volume ringing through her ears, on some infomercial station selling a strange looking assortment of kitchenware.

It was entirely by accident when she scanned over the news station, and a mistake to linger and let the words of the announcer sit inside her head. There was a coverage of her home, right there on the afternoon news, with a headline detailing the incident. It shouldn't have been surprising to see that a triple homicide made it to the news stations so quickly, but Ellen was still reeling with having to see it for herself again, hoping that it could at least have waited until there'd been more time for her to recover. She listened intently as they described in small detail the story of Ellen's morning, no names being given yet. Then, they made the happy discovery of one living member of the otherwise unlucky family. Ellen. A survivor. The station cut back to the grim features of the announcer who had to bear the news.

Quickly, she changed the channel again and settled for a historical program on some education channel. It wasn't engaging enough to warrant her full attention, but it served its purpose in distracting Ellen from the harsh reality she was currently facing.

Ellen pulled her knees up to her chest and sat like that in the middle of the couch, blankly staring on as a pleasant male voice described the nature of animals on the Savannah. The predators, the scavengers, and those who simply tried to escape from a massive pair of jaws clamping around their throat in the middle of the day. From all sides the enemy lurked in the grass, with no shade to make shelter or hiding an option. Ellen felt utterly helpless, more like a roaming gazelle than a proud lion, and rightfully so.

She closed her eyes, and let the voice from the TV fill her mind.

 

[Discordant]

Ingredients assembled, Chad began to whip up the batter. On the stove, a skillet was already heating up, and two plates waited patiently on the counter to receive the finished products. Chad learned long ago that organizing everything before you started cooking often made the difference between a successful meal and a disastrous one. He also learned that pancakes were the world's perfect food. Once you got the hang of it, they were easy to make and you could spice them up in an almost infinite number of ways. They were equally as delicious for dinner as they were for breakfast. Since his mother left, Chad probably made pancakes five or six times a week. Even at college, where his meal plan opened up his gastronomical horizons to an endless variety of mediocre food, he still found himself gravitating to pancakes every chance he got.

From his vantage point in the kitchen, he had a clear view of the couch and the television. Even so, he managed to miss the news story about Ellen's family. I few time he meant to call out to her, to see if she needed anything, but then he thought better of it. He didn't want to come across as too intrusive. He wanted to be supportive and not overbearing.

As the pancakes migrated from skillet to plates, he found himself whistling. It was a habit he'd had for years. Occasionally, he'd break out into full-fledged singing while cooking, but today he managed to restrain himself. Singing was among the many career paths best left unexplored for him.

When both plates held three pancakes, he scattered the remaining blueberries on top of them. Finally, he retrieved a tub of butter and the maple syrup. Arms precariously laden with goodies, he made his way to the living room. He set one plate down on the coffee table near Ellen, and then took a spot on the couch next to her.

"Never pictured you for the National Geographic type," he joked, noticing the odd choice of shows on the television.

 

[Lillian Gray]

Ellen opened her eyes. There was a buffet of plates around her with the different ingredients to the perfect pancake. The noises came back to her, the television giving off its display of a lion tackling a zebra to the ground in an instant before the scene changed to the rest of the fleeing herd. Chad was at her side, happily joking about the show, and Ellen smiled sheepishly in response. It was better than watching her family's murder, or any halfhearted attempt at comedy in the form of a cartoon. It was real, something tangible yet so far away it didn't concern her. Hunter and prey coming together all for the sole purpose of her entertainment.

"Hey, it's alright every once in a while." Ellen shrugged. She just didn't want to admit there wasn't much else on that wouldn't only make her feel worse.

She picked up her plate from the table and slowly spread a thick swab of butter on each individual flapjack, just the way she'd been doing it since she was a child. It melted as she gently stacked them, forming a tower again of the hand made meal. Ellen poured a fountain of syrup onto her plate, and was finally satisfied. Her stomach growled in anticipation.

"Thank you." She made sure to thank her best friend. "I didn't realize how hungry I was."

Ellen leaned against him then, tucking her entire body into the crevice of his side at an angle which still allowed her to eat. She took a bite, allowing the succulent taste of blueberries to explode in her mouth, warm and sweet. Ellen sighed happily.