The Twelve Lives of Samuel Hawley

“Of course I did,” she said.

Her nose was running in two clear streams, one from each nostril, over her lips and down her chin, and yet she still looked beautiful. He stared into her torn-up face. She was scared, just as much as he was. Not about Charlie or her mother or even if Hawley would end up in jail, but whether or not they’d make it.

“It was a perfect shot.”

“Except for the tire,” said Lily.

“Yes,” said Hawley. “The tire.” His wife leaned into him, clutching the back of his shirt. Her cheek was warm against his chest, her hair frizzy from the rain. He pressed his lips to her neck and inhaled her skin.

He felt as if he could face a thousand Mabel Ridges.

They turned and went back inside the hospital. Hawley told the nurse he’d cut his leg open on a lawn mower. Before long he was stretched on one of the padded benches, holding his wife’s hand as the doctor stitched him up and gave him a tetanus shot. When they were finished, Lily bent down and kissed the black thread holding his skin together.

“That scar will always be mine,” she said.

“They’re all yours,” said Hawley. “Every last one of them.”



IT WAS AFTER seven when they finally stepped back into the hospital parking lot. Hawley could tell right away which car was his. The truck was lit up like a bar. Mabel Ridge had all the lights on, the overhead and the headlamps, too. The radio was playing full tilt and the windows were steamed. He could see the outline of Mabel Ridge and her hunched shoulders, perched in the driver’s seat.

“What’s he doing here?” she said when Hawley opened the door.

Lily got into the passenger seat. “He needed a ride.”

Charlie’s ribs were taped up, the left side of his jaw was wired and he had a metal splint across his nose. He was heavily doped, carrying a bag full of prescriptions, and slid into the backseat without a word. He’d been released the same time Hawley had, and when they offered him a lift, he just nodded.

“I’ve been out here for hours,” said Mabel.

Lily reached over and turned off the radio. She did not apologize.

“Why don’t you get in the back,” said Hawley.

“I nearly drove off.” Mabel Ridge wrapped her fingers around the steering wheel and slid out of the car. She got in next to Charlie and slammed the door behind her. Hawley turned on the air to clear the windows.

“Rear re ro ragain,” said Charlie.

“What did he say?” Mabel Ridge asked. “I can’t understand a word.”

They left the parking lot. Before long they were on the highway and the wind was whipping through the broken window. Hawley kept thinking how much faster they seemed to be going. He glanced at the clock but it was still frozen at 12:00. Hospitals always did this to him. Days became nights and nights became days.

“I want to know who this boy is,” Mabel Ridge shouted over the wind.

Lily turned her head. “He’s a friend.”

“Where are you taking him?”

“Rome,” yelled Charlie.

“He means home.” The kid had given them an address, not far from the woods. But now, as he glanced in the rearview, Hawley caught sight of the empty dog leash sticking out of the kid’s pocket and wondered if they should be bringing him home after all. More trouble was probably waiting for him there. Trouble enough to make him try to steal a car in the rain when he didn’t know the first thing.

Hawley turned toward the backseat. “We could drop you someplace else, if you want. Or if you’re still looking for a way out of town, I’ll buy you a ticket.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Mabel Ridge raised her voice. “This boy is hurt. He needs to be with his family.”

“He can make up his own mind.”

Charlie removed the ice pack from the side of his face. He looked out of the window for a while, watching the exits pass. Then he straightened up and caught Hawley’s eye in the mirror. “Rain!”

“What’s that?” Mabel was yelling now.

“Train!” Hawley put on his blinker and crossed two lanes and barely made the exit. The wind died down as the truck slowed and turned off the exit ramp, their hair and clothes settling and finally going still.

Mabel Ridge leaned forward. She took hold of her daughter’s sleeve. “Lily,” she said. “I’m not going to allow this.”

Lily cracked the front window. “It’s none of your business.”

“Yes it is,” said Mabel Ridge, tightening her grip. “There are guns in this car. I found one under the seat and bullets in the glove compartment. I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into. But I’m getting you out.”

“I’ve got a license,” said Hawley.

At this point Mabel had nearly climbed into the front seat. In another move, she would be sitting between them. “I’m not going to watch you wreck your life again. We’ll get this marriage annulled. You’ll move back home, where it’s safe.”

“She’s safe with me.”

The older woman ignored him. “If he won’t let us go, I’ll call the police.”

“Ron’t,” said Charlie.

Lily unbuckled her seatbelt. She turned onto her knees and put a hand on Mabel Ridge’s shoulder. Then she pushed her mother back into place, until the woman was sitting next to Charlie again. “You’re not calling anyone.”

The light turned green. Hawley waited to see if Lily would let go of her mother, and when she didn’t, he wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist, then hooked a sharp left and pulled into the train station. Lily eased back into her seat, but she kept her eyes locked on Mabel Ridge, daring her to move. As soon as the truck stopped, Charlie hopped out and started running.

“Hang on,” Hawley called. He opened the door.

Charlie was already two cars away but when he saw Hawley coming after him he stopped. “Ron’t runch re.”

“I’m not going to punch you.” Hawley took out his wallet. “I promised to pay for a ticket. You can use it or you can save the money for later.” He gave the kid some more cash, on top of what Lily had already paid him. Enough to get out of the state.

Once he’d pocketed the money Charlie put his hand out. He shrugged and Hawley realized he was saying goodbye. The boy’s hand was bony and thin. As he shook it Hawley wondered how long he would last out in the world.

“Ranks,” said Charlie.

“Your jaw will feel better in a couple of weeks. Don’t go through the pain meds too fast. Cut the pills if you need to. And find some straws. They help a lot. You can steal a bunch from the concession stands, where they keep the napkins and the ketchup.”

Charlie nodded and clutched the bag full of drugs to his chest. It started raining again and he took another step away in his purple sneakers. In the distance a train blew its horn. They could both hear it making the approach. The boy seemed nervous. He glanced at the platform, then back at Hawley.

“You’ll be okay. You can get a job changing tires.”

Hannah Tinti's books