Title

Fiction, when it’s done well, has the ability to serve as empathy’s training wheels.

George Saunders

Breakdown at Clear River

Chapter 1

Colton rocked back on the balls of his feet before sucking in a breath and straightening his posture. The voice in his pocket chimed brightly. You have arrived at your destination.

Colton winced, tucking the stemmed rose under an arm while fumbling with the cell phone in his pocket. He was glad that Siri had helped him, but now the voice sounded less like someone he knew and trusted and more like the robot it was designed to be.

He thumbed Siri into silence and then gently untucked the rose, making sure he hadn’t crushed any petals. Colton admired its fragility for a moment. The plump red petals were luscious and vibrant.

Colton shifted his weight between both feet. It had been nearly four years since he’d visited Fairview Park. The green space of the West Cleveland public park had been transformed. Once bisecting one another like an origami painting, the public soccer fields and open green areas were now supplanted with housing developments and apartment complexes. The city had probably sold the land and the responsibilities of maintaining it to a developer willing to build. He had seen this type of development before in Houston. After Hurricane Harvey, flooded urban centers decimated by the floodwaters were demolished. Residents relocated to new FEMA-constructed housing built on flat, green spaces, once the homes for Saturday afternoon soccer and Thursday night little league games.

Fairview Park might look different, better even, but it was still located near downtown Cleveland, Ohio. Despite its harsh weather extremes, swaths of poverty, blight, crime, and a lack of good employment options, it was home, and Colton was glad to be back.

Maria had brought him back home. After Brooke cheated on him and became pregnant, Colton had wondered if he could ever feel love for another woman. As he prepared to delete his social media accounts and the thousands of pictures of him and Brooke, someone sent him a message. Maria Fernandez. A girl from Cleveland who had just moved back home after college.

Maria explained that she had come across Colton’s social media profiles on a whim while searching for people in their mid-twenties with Cleveland connections. She sent Colton a message, and the two had been talking, texting, and video chatting ever since.

After six months, Colton wanted to meet Maria, but he was doing contract electrical work for FEMA due to the Hurricane Harvey cleanup efforts in Houston. Maria had wanted him to come back to Cleveland and visit too, and that urged him toward seeing her, but there was still the job and travel to consider. Money wasn’t the problem. Colton made nearly forty dollars an hour working for FEMA, but almost every electrician crew was required to work mandatory overtime to help rebuild the electrical grid for the city. The money was there, absolutely available, but while Colton’s expenses were modest, his work schedule, often twelve- to fourteen-hour shifts, six days each week, was anything but, and that meant the time was never right to visit Maria.

For a long while, he let his schedule carry him through his days, looking for the right time and never quite finding it. Maria seemed to understand, and her communications stayed consistent.

Then came the message that gave him pause: LYSM. Love You So Much. That was the last message Maria had sent Colton two days earlier. It was enough to convince him to go to Cleveland to meet her.

When he arrived at the Greyhound bus station on Chester Avenue, Colton immediately texted Maria and asked if she was home. She responded with a smiling face emoji, followed by lol, and then asked why he wanted to know.

Colton had been cagey in his response, just telling her that he wanted to make sure she was home so they could talk.

After a cab ride, Colton now stood across the street from West 31st Place, facing a new subdivision built where a football field used to be, where Colton and his friends had played on weekends. The park bordered Cleveland to the east, Westlake and North Olmstead to the west, Bratenahl to the north, and Brook Park to the south. Growing up, Colton had friends that lived in all the communities, and the park was a natural middle space for them all to meet. Colton hated school but was always good with his hands. Playing sports then, and being an electrician now, was comfortable and natural.

Colton felt a chill creep up his back. The warmth of the early May day was gone, and inky darkness had engulfed the last of the frail light. The first bite of the evening chill paled his skin.

Colton pulled out his cell phone and scrolled through the directions, just making sure Siri had brought him to the right place. He stood back until the screen of his phone was bathed under the harsh white light of a streetlight. Looking up, the number on his screen matched the address he’d found online: 131 West 31st Place.

He lifted an arm and took a sniff. He smelled clean, and the new cologne he’d bought before leaving Houston gave off a sweet but not overpowering aroma.

Only silence lingered in the air. A cold sweat glistened on Colton’s brow. His hands clutched the stem of the rose, clasping it tightly at his waist as he constantly weaved his fingers in and out of each other.

A mild panic overcame him. The feeling would go away if he backed away and left. Colton didn’t have to go back to Houston, but he could leave here—but then there would be more anxious feelings of inadequacy. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Colton let those thoughts leak into the recesses of his mind and, instead, let his heart and his passion for Maria steer him.

Now steady and more confident, Colton crossed the street. Her house stood at the end of the block.

Mabel Court ran the width of the block behind him. To his left was Fairview Park, hulking over the street like a dark monster. Maria’s house sat between two other condos, one home on each side. The lights radiating from the windows of the houses bathed the sidewalk in narrow bands of yellow light.

As he approached the address that Siri had given him, Colton was startled to discover it was a two-story condo. When he was growing up, government housing had occupied many of the streets, but now, the houses seemed new, and the vibe was fresh and hip.

Her condo had a second-floor window with round edges that jutted out from the brick façade. On the small roof that covered the porch, two satellite dishes looked like two toothpicks. A large bush with its yellow and green leaves nearly blocked the narrow sidewalk leading to the door, and the cloying smell of fresh mulch lining the bush made Colton gag.

Colton reached the door, then let out a breath, ran a hand over his jeans, and knocked. Before he could lower his hand, the door opened.

Maria filled the space, as soft yellow light framed the shadows behind her. She was dressed casually, but smartly, in jeans and a black hipster jacket with a neck scarf. Her midnight black hair, a feature Colton remembered from their video chats, was pulled back into a ponytail.

Maria made eye contact with Colton, staring at him with her molten-brown eyes that were as vast and deep as Lake Erie.

“I knew you’d come,” she said softly. The dulcet voice Colton remembered from their talks sent a surge of excitement through him.

Maria looked down at the rose and blushed, taking it from him, then laying it flat on the porch’s railing.

She leaned in and hugged Colton. Her hair smelled clean and felt like ribbons of silk as his hand caressed the bottom of the ponytail. Behind her, Colton noticed the condo was immaculate and elegant. The cherry wood floors gleamed with a polished shine, the living area behind the atrium, adorned with plush furniture, looked unused. Colton could see two more rooms at the end of the other hallway and outlines of a bathroom sink between the hallway and living room. Crown molding ran across the tops of the walls. To Colton, the condo exuded posh comfort.

Maria broke the embrace. Colton flashed a wide-eyed stare and felt his tongue go dry and thick.

“Surprised?” he managed to ask, although the word came out slightly garbled.

“No,” she said. Her eyes moved quickly over Colton. “We haven’t talked in a couple of days.” She grinned. “Then, when I got the text message earlier, I knew something was up.”

Maria exhaled slow and shook her head. “That’s so sweet. No guy has ever done something like that for me before.”

Colton could see in her eyes that she was assessing whether she could safely let him in.

Maria’s face was all edges—enviable cheekbones, a sharp jaw, and a pair of arched eyebrows looking down on sweeping eyelashes. She was the most beautiful woman Colton had ever seen.

The fact that Maria didn’t invite Colton inside worried him. Colton moved his lips near her ear.

“It’s not,” she said, tilting her head up and giving Colton a tender, sensual kiss. Her lips were soft, and the gloss on them tasted like strawberries.

Colton looked down when the kiss ended and gently stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “I’ve waited so long for this.”

She huffed softly and then bit the inside of her lip playfully. “Good things come to those who wait.” Maria kissed her index finger and pressed it into the dimple at the center of his chin.

A surge of sexual ecstasy pulled through Colton. He wanted to take Maria now, pull her inside one of the rooms of the plush condo and ravish her. A swell in his groin protruded from his jeans. He arched his back and shifted, hoping Maria didn’t notice anything.

Colton felt Maria stare at him for a long moment, and then she cut a sharp glance into the entryway beyond the front door. Colton watched her carefully, and Maria lifted her right leg and braced it against the door frame.

“I’m sorry if I seem a little distracted. I’ve been busy today, filling my new briefcase with papers.”

“I know,” Maria said, stepping back and reaching into the entryway behind the door. “I should’ve told you why I needed the money.”

“No, that’s fine,” she said, the corners of her mouth turning upright into a slow smirk. “Buying a briefcase is like buying shoes. It’s hard to do for someone else. It needs to be a perfect fit.”

Maria pulled the briefcase out and set it between them, just outside the door. One corner of the case landed on the toe of Colton’s shoe, causing him to step back. Now the new distance between them was divided.

Colton looked down. The tan leather attaché case had brass locks on each side and a horseshoe-shaped handle fastened to the top. Colton had seen many of the FEMA supervisors in Houston carrying these cases to various work sites. He knew they had divider pockets and holders for a cell phone, pens, cards, and accessories inside. Maria had her name monogrammed on top of the briefcase.

“That’s nice,” Colton said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Any new job interviews lined up?”

At that question, Maria made a face. Colton remembered Maria telling him that she had some interviews scheduled with various accounting firms in Cleveland and had said she needed a new outfit, shoes, and jewelry to “make an impression.” Colton wanted her to have the chance she needed, so he had sent her over a thousand dollars.

When Maria folded her arms and looked down, Colton felt the moment was slipping away. “Did the interview go bad? I mean, I’m sure it went fine. I didn’t—"

“Stop apologizing,” she pronounced with a hard edge to her tone. Colton caught a flicker of anger flash across her face, followed by a long look of bafflement.

Maria stepped around the briefcase. “I’m sorry,” she said sweetly. “That’s not fair.”

“I know.” Maria stepped closer to Colton and put a hand on his chest. “I did okay in the interview. In the end, they hired someone else, but I was one of two finalists for the position.”

Colton put his hands on her small, round shoulders. “That’s great, Maria! Maybe it wasn’t the right fit anyway. I’m sure you’ve got more interviews lined up.”

Maria flicked a look down at the briefcase and then back to Colton. In that brief moment, she looked away, and her unease struck him. Everything had seemed natural at first, but something changed. The emergence of the briefcase had made everything feel different.

Colton debated reaching down to grab the briefcase when he caught a glint of silver protruding from under her scarf.

“There’s something else,” she said, pursing her lips. “I need some more money.”

Colton thought about the money he’d already sent Maria. He glanced over her shoulder and thought about the beautiful and ornate condo.

She placed a hand on his cheek and stroked it lightly. “Stay with me here. I need more money.” Maria took her foot and pushed the briefcase behind her.

“From a friend. Someone who helped me through a difficult time in my life. I needed someone to listen to me, and he was there for me.”

Colton blanched. He grabbed Maria’s hand by the wrist and pushed it down to her side. He could feel his stomach churn and bile rise in his throat.

“I thought I was the one who helped you through a difficult time in your life. I thought I was the only person who listened and was there for you.”

“I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it! Who else has heard those words? Is that the standard pickup line?” He pointed at the necklace. “Maybe the last person that heard them also bought the necklace, too!”

He flung his hands up in a defensive posture. “Stop patronizing me. It was always about the money, wasn’t it?”

The flicker of anger crossed Maria’s face again. This time, Colton didn’t care.

When Maria didn’t answer, he locked his hands behind his head, linking his fingers in his tousled black hair, and groaned. It all made sense. Colton had a little extra fat around his midsection—not too paunchy, but not too thin—and he had some muscles in his chest and arms that were not real chiseled or defined. Average, in a cute every-boy way, was how Brooke had described him.

But a beautiful girl like Maria wasn’t interested in his looks or him at all. He was foolish to think so. At a vulnerable time, she exploited him, told him everything he needed to hear, and lured him into a trap like a black widow spider.

Colton tossed a glance toward Fairview Park. “This was a mistake. I need to go.”

At that, Maria snickered. A raspy jeer followed, which caused Colton to look at her again. “It wasn’t a mistake. Not for us, at least.”

Colton heard a noise coming from across the park. Despite the silence and stillness of the night, he could barely hear the horsepower of the liter engine as it approached. Colton stared hard at Maria, then looked back to the park.

“Correcting a mistake,” she pronounced with a strong inflection on the last word. Maria reached down and grabbed the briefcase. She pressed it against her supple breasts, wrapping her arms around it, her fingers snug against it. “Inside here is what we need to correct it. We know everything about you.”

Colton’s brain roamed, trying to process what was happening as the car moved closer.

Maria’s eyes stayed glued on Colton. The loud screeching of brakes soon replaced the thrum of the tires over the smooth pavement. Tendrils of smoke escaped from under the frame as the pounding bass of music could be heard.

Confused and scared, Colton grabbed Maria, shaking her. “What’s going on, Maria!”

“Hands off my girl,” a voice as deep as the bass pulsing from their stereo called out from the street. The voice sounded ethnic—Mexican or Hispanic.

Colton could see a large man dressed in black and carrying a metal rod approaching the porch from the corner of an eye. Colton couldn’t make out any facial features on the man, but he did see two other men pouring out of the back seat, each clad in the same solid black outfits, faces obscured. The two trailing men clutched shotguns in their hands.

Neither Colton nor Maria moved a muscle. Colton could hear his heartbeat. He could even hear Maria’s nervous breaths. Two sets of footsteps were coming toward them. One was heavy and slow, the other quicker and lighter.

Colton saw that Maria watched them all closely, and the distraction caused her to loosen her grip on the briefcase. That’s when Colton made a decision and reacted.

He jerked the briefcase from Maria. As she let out a yelp in protest, Colton flung it in the direction of the closest dark shadow near the porch. The briefcase made contact, and a dull thud pierced the air. The man ticked off several words Colton didn’t recognize. Colton jumped from the porch and pushed past the distracted and off-balanced man and ran toward the park.

The other two men screamed at each other in a different language, and Colton could hear them running behind him.

The distance was all that mattered now. Colton had to find a way to get away from them.

The clearing in front of Fairview Park became more silver between the shadows that stretched out as if it were yawning. As Colton moved deeper into the middle, the shadows of trees blended into the blackness, and their silhouettes against the sky grew more pronounced.

From behind, Colton could hear the men calling out to one another in between deep gasps of breath. Their grunts interspersed with shouted quips, which got louder as if the volume of their voices had been turned upward.

Colton felt like his heart would explode from his chest. Rivulets of sweat hindered his sight as it ran down his forehead and into his eyes. As he continued to pump his legs forward, he couldn’t remember what was on the other side of the park. He coughed out some spit that had grown dense and thick in his mouth and wondered if he would even make it to the other side. If one of the men chasing him had a gun, the instant he had a clear shot at Colton, he would probably take it.

Colton refocused his thinking. The light from the low-hanging moon paled his skin. He focused on the broken twigs beneath his feet. With each snap and pop, Colton knew he was still moving.

He ran harder. His legs began to tingle, and his chest began to burn. Colton cut a sharp left, running between two large trees that had just regained their leaves after another predictably brutal Cleveland winter.

Colton dug his right heel into the soft ground and pushed off to the right, cutting back. If the men were close enough to see him moving in different directions, it might confuse them.

After a few more seconds, Colton could only hear the sound of his footfalls pounding against the earth. The scuffle of his feet was the only reminder that he was still alive, still moving.

Soon, a yellow lamplight illuminated the path.. A darkening, quiet gloom filled the space. Panicked, Colton stopped and looked up and down the street, trying to find someone that could help him.

Down the road, just before it sliced behind a thicket of sagging tree branches, Colton could see the yellow silhouette of a taxi. A surge of relief came over him. Colton swallowed, sucked in a breath, and ran.

As Colton approached, the cab driver locked his dead gaze on Colton. Colton waved his arms at the man.

Colton could make out a burning red ember that pierced the darkness before going black. A cloud of cigarette smoke dropped down and rose into the air. The acrid smell made Colton cough as he grew closer.

The driver, a portly man with round, sloped shoulders and greasy blond hair that stuck out from under a Cleveland Indians baseball cap, leaned against the grill of the cab.

The driver smiled, revealing a crooked canine tooth that protruded from the right side of his mouth. Colton looked over his shoulder, trying to hear if the men were coming.

Colton was ready to punch the man and take his keys if that was what it took. He clenched his fists. The driver noticed the gesture and stared at Colton’s hands.

“Fine.” He dropped the cigarette on the street and stomped it out. “I’m in.” He folded his arms across his protruding gut. “Where to, sir?”

Colton stalked past the driver and opened the back. He cut him a sideways glance as he collapsed into the seat, then he called out the first address that came to mind.

The driver loped around the side of the car and slowly collapsed into the seat. Bones popped as he seemed to push his stomach around the base of the steering wheel.

“Kid, we’re on West 210th Street. Riverwood Avenue is in Bratenahl, all the way across town.”

“I’m good for it.” Colton slammed his hand against the padded headrest, which he found riddled with holes. “Drive!”

The driver keyed the ignition and flipped two switches on the boxed meter jutting out from the dashboard so that the squared red numbers came to life and began turning.

The driver pulled the car onto the road. As they drove past the clearing into Fairview Park, Colton made out two shadows emerging from a crease that divided the park entrance from the road. Two men, light-skinned with black hair and dressed in all black, started looking up and down the sidewalk. Colton slid down in the seat.

The driver eyed him through the rearview mirror. “Fuck, son, you’re as white as a sheet. I guess you are in trouble.”

Colton closed his eyes. The inside of the cab smelled like sour milk and stale cigarette smoke.

His head snapped up as the cab came to a sudden stop. Colton didn’t know if he’d fallen asleep, but his mind felt hazy and his head woozy.

Colton pulled some wadded money from his pocket and flung it at the driver. The man watched it fall onto the seat like drifting snow.

“Hey, I don’t have time to pick this up and count all of it. Don’t stiff me, kid.”

Colton swung his legs onto the street. “Count it. If it’s not enough, I’ll be back in a minute with the rest.”

Before the driver could object, Colton shut the door. He turned to look at the one-story stucco house with a low-hanging roof and bay window that swept across the front, flickering light onto the street.

He sauntered up the sidewalk, feeling the emotional and physical fatigue fall on him like dead weight.

Colton walked up to the door. The porch light was off, but a yellow tabby cat sat perched on the stoop, looking onto the street. Its name was Mittens or Muffin, or something stupid like that.

Colton pounded on the door with both fists, not pausing in between strokes. Finally, the door slowly crept open.

A girl with straight brown hair, dark eyes, and a perfect hourglass figure wearing a T-shirt and nylon shorts filled the frame.

Brooke motioned him inside and slowly shut the door, then spun on a heel to face him.

“Yes,” she said, indignant. “The baby is asleep. What’s going on, Colton? Why are you here?”

The kitchen and the living room were one large room, and Colton marched across the house’s living room side to the bay window and jerked the curtains over the glass.

“Listen to me. Three men are following me. They know everything about me, and so does she.”

Colton felt Brooke studying him for a long moment. She recognized the fear in him, and something changed in her demeanor. Her eyes widened.

Brooke did not easily hide her emotions on her oval-shaped face. Her pain was evident in the crease of her brow and down the curve of her full lips. Brooke’s eyes always showed her true feelings, and when she refused to look at Colton, he knew those green eyes would become deep pools of hopeless grief. In trying to get help, Colton had hurt her again.

Brooke turned and walked away before stopping near the kitchen and turning around. “Don’t just stand there. Come on, before I decide to call the police. I need to hear the whole story.” She pointed her finger at him. “And I want all of it. From the beginning.”

As Colton turned and watched her walk away, he gazed upon Brooke. His mind wandered back to those moments of her naked form pressed against him in bed. He thought about the way her skin had felt under his fingers as he caressed her neck, then moved down to the crevice between her breasts, and the way she had bucked under his touch.

“Now, tell me what’s really going on,” Brooke said as she pulled two bottles of water from the refrigerator.