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MATTHEW
Nothing promised a faster, more all-encompassing end than water. The Kootenay River would be kind, it would whip Matthew’s worries away faster than the rope that took his friend’s.
Matthew stood at the center point of the bridge on California Avenue, crossing the Kootenay River. He was on a self-imposed lunch break from his job as a contractor. Yeah, he owned his own construction company, but did that matter? Not to his old partner.
Looking out over the meandering river, Matthew didn’t have to think twice about what kind of relief everything would be to just jump. No one would even know – not without his clues.
The bridge wasn’t the center of town regarding traffic so a small surge of cars and trucks would pass over, rattling the beams and making a humming sound as they past. Then the traffic would leave behind the quiet caress of the breeze over the river and the water far down below. The sun watched him with puffy clouds passing by in the blue expanse above. Nothing judgmental came from the skies and Matthew actually felt peaceful with his decision. Why not? He was alone in every other aspect of his life. Why not finish it that way?
Matthew paced north, then south, on the pedestrian portion of the bridge. His boots scraped on the concrete as his strong stride changed to a drag. His confidence was lagging. Maybe it wasn’t the best answer. Maybe he just needed to take a minute and think things through more fully.
Wanting to commit that kind of act was hard to stick with on such a beautiful early summer day. But like always – no matter what time of year or day, the dark thoughts always came. He couldn’t escape them.
The only times he could escape the darkness was when he was on a specific mission. This had become his mission. He had to fulfill the mission. He’d worked too hard on planning things out since... Lance.
He twisted Lance’s coat in his hands, shaking the jacket up and down as he fought for control over the tears on his face. He wiped the material over his face to wipe at the sneaky tears working down his cheeks. The faint scent of Lance’s cologne lingered as Matthew lowered the coat.
There were buddies and best-friends and then there were people like Lance. Lance was like a brother to Matthew. They’d gone through a couple tours in the Marines together. They’d seen things... They’d done things... They’d survived things they shouldn’t have.
Lance wasn’t supposed to check out early. Not when they’d both made it back stateside. Not when they started a company together building memorials and other things that were needed. Not when Matthew needed Lance’s help late at night when he was losing it, too. They would call each other and meet up for a beer or just shack at one of their homes. Nightmares were normal and they both understood.
Panic welled in Matthew’s chest. Was he more terrified about being lonely, if he didn’t do it, or more afraid that it was just lonelier on the other side? Either way, his fear paralyzed him and he didn’t like the way it took his control.
Anything had to be better than what he was going through.
Okay. He could do it.
Of course, he didn’t really need to do it by jumping off the bridge. At the same time, no one would find his body. If he turned on the truck and let it run in his garage while sitting there eating Ho-Hos, it would make more of a mess. The river was better.
No one would know. No one would care.
Matthew stopped pacing, moving up to lean against the railing and stare out over the scenery again. Rich, green trees bordered the river with its varying tones of greens, blues, and browns. Off in the distance a flock of Canadian geese honked and flew overhead on their way north for the summer.
Libby, Montana wasn’t his ideal place to die, but Afghanistan hadn’t been either. Was there an “ideal” place? Not when you had demons chasing you from all the way across the world. Lance’s house wasn’t an ideal place which irritated Matthew that he’d found his friend there.
His watch dinged. His lunch was almost over. But it didn’t matter. No one needed him at the site. He had a foreman who did the managing and a terrific crew who were all ex-military with their own issues to deal with. Sarge, the foreman for the crew stationed there, would understand what had happened. He would get it. Honestly, they all would.
None of them needed the added stress his problems would cause.
Turning to drape Lance’s coat over the guardrail, Matthew shrugged out of his own. He could leave them there, like a makeshift memorial for them both. No one would even miss them. Someone might find the coats and keep them or donate them or maybe even throw them away.
He leaned over to smooth the sleeve of Lance’s jacket, picking at a fuzzy piece of lint, when something pink and shiny caught his eye from the dirt shoulder of the bridge. Upon closer inspection, he bent down and picked up a small USB thumb drive that had fallen to the side of the bridge.
USB drives were usually pretty important. This day and age, people kept their entire lives on them, even just a collection of pictures was worth a lot. The pink, heart sticker labeled the owner as a girl – no matter how sexist that might be, Matthew had no doubt that drive belonged to a girl or a woman.
Maybe the owner had no idea she’d dropped her drive. Matthew had no way of knowing what was on it – not sitting on the bridge, but he could figure out who the owner was, or at least have more clues to help him get the drive back to its rightful place.
If he left then, he had no idea when he would get another chance to escape and end his pain. He had to choose – did he take on this mission and find the information he needed to get the drive back or did he do what he’d set out to do?
Gripping the thumb drive in his fist, Matthew stared over the railing of the bridge, his expression neutral. What did he do? He hadn’t wanted to bother anyone or cause any other person pain. Not getting that drive to its owner might do more harm than good. He couldn’t just set it back on the blacktop of the bridge in all good conscious.
Everything he’d done to get his affairs in order had been to tie all loose ends. This was leaving something undone.
Maybe joining Lance could wait. Getting that thumb drive back to the woman who owned it, had just given him a sense of purpose, like a mission. No, joining Lance would have to wait. He already couldn’t focus on why he was out there on that bridge. Everything was centered on the little metal piece in his palm.
As he focused on the drive, the darkness pulled back. He set his sights on the end result. Reuniting the female with her long-lost drive would feel good. She would be grateful. Matthew needed that. He needed to be worth something.
Having a positive impact on someone else’s life would be the turnaround he needed – if only for a brief time. He would take the break from misery.
As he gathered his things, Matthew said a silent thank you to Lance for helping Matthew find a purpose, even if only a temporary one.