The Tethering: The Complete Collection

1. Windows

1

Windows

Jacob rolled over, unwilling to let the sound of his alarm tear him from his dream. He tried to hold on to the image of her, but it was already drifting away into memory. He reached out and turned off the alarm.

He hadn’t dreamt about her in months. Not that he hadn’t thought about Emilia. He did that every day. The memory of the day he had first met Emilia Gray, seven years ago now, was one of the best he had.

He rolled out of bed and stumbled to his dresser. He had changed a lot from the little boy hiding under a tree. Now sixteen, Jacob was one of the tallest boys in his class, though he still had the thin look of someone who had grown quickly in a short time. His hair was as blond and shaggy as ever, and he had developed a golden tan from working outside all spring.

“She’s gone,” he told himself. “Get used to it.”

He dressed quickly, throwing on whatever smelled clean, and stopped on his way out the door to check in his father’s room. Jim had been gone for a few months now, and since the bed was still made, Jacob assumed he hadn’t come home last night.

“Great,” he muttered, slamming the front door behind him on his way to another day at Fairfield High.

Fairfield, New York was a nice place. At least in Jacob’s opinion. Of course, he had never actually been anywhere else. The town was small and picturesque, and the streets were always clean. With summer’s approach, the only scent in town came from the iris blossoms that coated the town square. Planted in color-coordinated beds, they surrounded the gazebo that was regularly used to host town events. Signs rising above the blooms proudly stated the irises were a gift of the Ladies’ Library League, the group of women who kept the town pristine and perfect.

The schools were excellent, the stores locally owned, and the houses well painted. Except for Jacob’s house, which hadn’t been painted in his lifetime. He tried to keep up the house as much as he could, but Jim didn’t care enough to help. The Ladies’ Library League always noticed, but what was Jacob supposed to do?

Jim had drifted from job to job ever since Jacob was two. That was the year his mother died. When Jacob was eight, Jim had started taking work away from Fairfield. He was hardly ever in town anymore. It was normal for him to disappear for months at a time, working…somewhere. He usually left some cash behind, but Jacob didn’t care about Jim’s money so much anymore. He’d been doing odd jobs for years, and now that he was older, people around town were willing to give him larger jobs with better paychecks. Thanks to a profitable spring, he’d had enough money not only to eat since the last time Jim had skipped town, but to keep the electricity and water on, too. Jacob laughed to himself. That had been a feat.

No one greeted him when he walked into Fairfield High, but he didn’t mind. Anonymity suited him. School was a means to an end, and Jacob wanted out. Out of Jim’s house, out of Fairfield. But most of all, he wanted to be good enough for her.

Jacob had made up his mind freshman year that he was going to be the best in the whole school. He was going to get a scholarship, go to college, and make something worthwhile of himself. Days at school flew by. Teachers loved him. Students ignored him. It was perfect.

Jacob sat in chemistry class, allowing his mind to wander. He had already read through the entire book, and the lectures were useless since his teacher insisted on reading from the book verbatim every day.

There was a cough at the door.

Jacob looked over with the rest of his classmates, hoping something would break the monotony.

Principal McManis stood in the doorway, his hands flitting between his watch and glasses. He seemed like a decent guy, and Jacob liked him, so he gave an encouraging smile.

The principal did not smile back. “Jacob Evans, I need to see you in my office.”

Sweat beaded on Jacob’s palms. He could feel the eyes of his classmates burning holes into his face. He got up to follow the principal.

“Bring your bag.”

That wasn’t a good sign. Bring your bag meant he was in so much trouble he wouldn’t be returning to class, or maybe even to school, for quite a while. But Jacob was always very careful to stay out of trouble. If the school wanted to talk to his father about his behavior, they would find out how often Jim was gone. Then Social Services would be all over him.

Jacob picked up his bag and carefully repacked his chemistry book before starting toward the door. Every time he passed a desk, its occupant started to whisper. By the time he reached the principal, the room sounded like a balloon slowly letting out its air.

Jacob’s worn sneakers squeaked as he walked down the hall, and McManis’s loafers clacked like they were made of the same worn tile as the floor. The sound of their shoes echoed through the corridor like a siren, telling every room they passed that someone was being led to the principal’s office. Not once did McManis look over at Jacob.

McManis ushered Jacob into his office and shut the door. Windows surrounded the room, looking out at the secretary’s office and the locker-lined hallways. The secretary kept glancing through the window at Jacob. When he caught her eye, she quickly began shuffling papers on her desk.

“Please sit down.” Principal McManis took a seat behind his desk, still avoiding Jacob’s eyes. He took a drink from his #1 Educator mug, set it down, and rubbed his thumb along the rim, wiping away something Jacob couldn’t see.

Was McManis waiting for him to speak or just buying himself time?

“Look,” Jacob said, “whatever you think I did, it must have been someone else. You know I would never―”

“This isn’t…” McManis paused. “I’m―there was an accident.”

Jacob stared at his principal. If there was an accident, why was he in trouble?

“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” the principal said, studying his hands. “Your father was found in a hotel room. They aren’t sure yet how it happened.” He finally met Jacob’s eyes. “I’m afraid he’s gone.”

Jacob’s heart stopped. His brain started to scream. All of the bones in his body burned. McManis was still talking, but Jacob couldn’t make out the words over the screaming in his head.

A sharp snap slammed into his ears right before the windows in the office exploded, sending shards of glass everywhere. The shrieking in his mind was punctured by more glass breaking, more windows flying apart. He stared down at the bits of glass shimmering on the floor.

He gasped as the principal knocked him to the ground, covering Jacob with his own body. Other screams echoed in the distance. It took Jacob a moment to figure out the panicked screaming wasn’t in his head. As the fire alarms started wailing, Jacob tried to push himself up to see what was happening, but Principal McManis forced him back down.

Voices cut through the mayhem as teachers tried to calm their students. Students shouted for help, not knowing what to do.

The principal cursed. “Stay here, Jacob. Do not leave this room until a fireman or I tell you to. Got it?” McManis didn’t wait for an answer as he shoved Jacob under the desk.

The shattered pieces of the #1 Educator mug cut into Jacob’s palms, and the smell of spilled coffee filled the air. The coffee puddle was warm, and he watched with fascination as his red blood mixed with the brown liquid.

Jacob listened to Principal McManis order a school lockdown. The thud of doors slamming shut echoed down the hall. A few moments later, McManis’s voice came back over the speakers, saying to evacuate as quickly as possible. A school with broken windows couldn’t be locked down.

Jacob waited in the office for McManis. A few minutes passed before the principal returned for Jacob and led him outside to the rest of his class. Jacob was almost grateful for the confusion when the fire trucks arrived. No one stopped him or asked if he was all right. He blended perfectly into the chaos.

The emergency workers set up triage sites for the injured, but no one had been badly hurt. A few students needed stitches, and some were so panicked they had to be sedated, but there were no real injuries.

The police bomb squad swept through the building but found nothing. They checked for a gas leak, but the lines all seemed to be in good working order. The rumblings in the crowd said the police were at a loss to explain how every piece of glass in the building had shattered. No one was allowed to leave.

At what should have been dinnertime, all of the students’ parents who had rushed to the school brought them food. But Jacob had no one who cared that his school had apparently been attacked by terrorists. At least that’s what the news reporter nearest him told her viewers at home. A woman from a church group gave Jacob water, food, and a blanket at about nine o’clock in the evening, and he was too tired to refuse.

Finally, the police said they’d gathered all the information they needed, which was none at all, and that they would be in touch with updates.

Jacob started to walk home. Principal McManis’s booming voice carried over the crowd, calling Jacob back, but he kept walking. Social Services would come for him soon enough.

The lights were off in the house, but Jacob was used to that. He was used to being alone. He opened the creaky door and sat down on the couch. This may not have been a happy home, but it was the only one he knew. He looked around the living room. The dingy wallpaper peeled away at the corners. A faint scent of dust and damp hung in the air. Jacob kept the house clean, but Jim never gave him the money to fix anything. The couch he sat on was older than he was. The stained fabric glistened in places where the springs were beginning to wear through.

He should be doing something. Like planning a funeral. But he didn’t even know where Jim’s body was. Not that he had the money to pay for a funeral anyway. Sleep. He needed sleep. Everything else could be handled tomorrow.

Jacob climbed the stairs to his room. Out of habit, he looked into Jim’s room. It was the same as it had been that morning with the bed still untouched. For some reason, Jacob had expected it to look different, as though permanent absence would leave a visible mark. He pulled Jim’s door closed and went to his own bed.

He didn’t even remember closing his eyes, but a steady tapping that echoed through the empty house pulled him back out of sleep. He dragged the blanket the woman from the church group had given him over his head. He wanted sleep, not social workers.

But the tapping continued. It sounded closer than the front door. Maybe it was hail. No, the sound was too regular for hail.

Jacob sat up and looked blearily around his room. The sound came from the window. A figure crouched outside, tapping lightly to wake him up.