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IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson ScottPage of 1 20

IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson Scott In The Available Light By Grayson Scott Page of 2 20

IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson ScottThere is something about hospital hallways in the dark early morning when the only light and sound come from the humming white florescent lights, that can drain hope from a person. Motion sensors placed strategically throughout the deep catacombs of hospitals provide sterile light only where it is needed, and create the illusion of being trapped between two black silent caves as people wait silently for the news that their lives will never be the same. Mark Soderlind sat on one of the few small benches in the hallway in an isolated part of the hospital with his seven-year-old son, Alan, asleep in his lap. The boy was dressed in his pajamas, with no shoes or socks, because Mark hadn’t had time to dress him after the paramedics had arrived. A nurse had given them a blue blanket an hour earlier and Mark had used it to keep Alan warm, even though between the heat of the child and the blanket, Mark was now sweating. Mark could not feel anything inside his mind. He simply held onto Alan, finding small comfort in his soft heartbeat and the steady pace of his lungs expanding and contracting as he slept. Other than the boy, everything was a fog. He did not know what was happening or what shape his life would take once this night was over and he couldn’t bear to think about it. Mark simply stared at the bulletin board across the hallway from him, reading over the random hospital announcements. There was a red-trimmed piece of paper on the bottom right of the bulletin board that his eye was drawn to. It simply said, “Palmer Hospital welcomes gestational diabetes speaker, Dr. Mary Arnold,” with a pleasant-looking woman smiling back at him from a headshot in the lower half of the paper. Mark guessed she was in her late forties. She had dark brown hair, pulled back tightly, and wore the standard white lab coat with her name embroidered in blue cursive letters on the front. She looked confident and secure in herself; someone that could be trusted. She looked happy. Mark wondered if the woman was anything like the photo, or if the split second that it took for the film to capture the image had wiped away years of sorrow, anger, and heartbreak. Page of 3 20

IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson ScottWere there people in the world that were ever as happy as they appeared in their photos? Are the snapshots that are left behind long after we’re gone nothing but manufactured lies; a grand farce that proclaims to future generations of a joy not experienced in real life, thereby setting up another generation to believe that there was a chance for something more than what existed? Maybe the older photos, the ones taken a century ago in black and white where everyone was more somber, more honest. Those sepia-toned images told a much different story than modern ones. They spoke plainly and honestly that life is hard and, as humans, we have to work against all odds to gain even a little semblance of peace. That was the truth of life, Mark thought. Even when we do gain a little of what we consider to be precious, like the boy who slept so peacefully in his lap; to keep it, you had to fight for it. No peace or joy did not come without a fight, and the peace his son would now have had come at a terrible price that Mark had been willing to pay. His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps in the distance coming toward him. The lights at the opposite end of the long hallway were coming to life as a doctor made his way toward Mark and Alan. There had been other places in the hospital he could have waited for the news but he did not want to be around other people tonight; not while he sat in the middle of this storm that raged around him. Mark stood slowly and laid Alan down on the padded bench, covering him with the blanket once again. The boy stirred but did not wake up. For a brief moment, Mark marveled at how fragile and unprotected his son was, as all children are, and how completely dependent the boy was on him. This sad realization was the only time during the entire evening that Mark felt he would lose himself and give in to the emotions building up; so he rose from the chair, pinching at his nose and eyes to abort them. He pushed the emotions back down and walked away from Alan, meeting the doctor several feet away. The doctor spoke in hushed tones so that even in the tiled hallways, the conversation remained private. The surgery was over and the doctor began a detailed explanation of what had taken place behind the closed doors for the last hour and a half. Mark tried to listen and comprehend but the doctor rattled Page of 4 20

IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson Scottoff so many words that Mark did not understand that he quickly lost track of what was being said. Mark looked back towards Alan and saw him sitting up, rubbing his eyes and yawning as large as his small mouth would allow. The boy looked over at his father, still in the embrace of sleep, then laid back down on the bench again, knowing his father was close and that he was safe. Mark turned back to face the doctor and was introduced to the police officers who had been patiently waiting. Page of 5 20

IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson Scott~ CHAPTER ONE ~ Mark woke up knowing that something was wrong. Sitting straight up in bed, fully awake and breathing shallowly, he opened his eyes wide and listened for any movement in the house. The early morning silence was just as it should be but he could not shake the feeling that something was very wrong. Reaching over to the chair next to the bed, Mark grabbed the t-shirt he had taken off the night before and quickly pulled it over his head as he stood up. Walking around the end of the bed in his boxers, Mark moved quickly into the hallway toward Alan’s room. The shirt still stunk from the restaurant: a combination of discarded food, bleach, and sweat that Mark smelled of each day after his shift was over. He had worked at the restaurant for fifteen years now and the smell was still as repugnant as the first day. He threw open the door to Alan’s room, expecting to see the boy asleep, tangled up within his bedsheets. The bed was empty and the house remained silent. “Alan?” Mark yelled back into the hallway. Moving quicker, he went to the bathroom one door down from Alan’s room and found that it, too, was empty. Looking in the laundry basket, Mark saw that Alan’s bedclothes were nowhere to be found. “Alan!” Mark yelled, this time louder than before, while he looked down the stairs to the bottom floor of the house. The living room was as silent as the rest of the house, unchanged from last night, except for the bright morning sunlight streaming in from the front picture window. Mark ran back into the bedroom and put on his pants while looking outside and into the backyard, which revealed a fresh crisp layer of undisturbed snow at least two inches thick. Looking down at the clock on his bedside table, Mark saw that it was 7:34. They would have to leave for school in the next ten minutes if they were going to make it on time. Looking Page of 6 20

IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson Scottover at the bed, Mark could see where Shannon had made her half of the bed neatly before she had left. “Alan! Where are you?” Mark yelled again, not able to hide the concern that was beginning to grow in his voice and the pit of his stomach. Going down the stairs, Mark checked the front door and found it locked. Opening it, he felt the biting Colorado winter air coming into the warm house. “ALAN!” Mark yelled out the front door as he fumbled with his boots, noticing that Alan’s small boots were still next to his by the front door. “What, Dad?” A voice said behind him. Mark turned around with his coat half on, wearing one boot, to see Alan still in his pajamas in the kitchen with a single headphone pulled away from his ear, eating a bowl of cereal at the kitchen island counter. Wordlessly, Mark felt the pressure inside of him release and for the first time that morning, he was able to breathe. Taking off his jacket and single boot, Mark joined Alan in the kitchen where they ate silently until it was time to leave. * * * Fillmore Hill in Colorado Springs easily rivaled any of the famous hills in San Francisco, except drivers dealt with the seasonal bonus of ice and snow in winter. Because of the incline, most of the city trucks that dumped sand and salt on the road to provide traction waited until the rest of the city was taken care of before trying to tackle the monster hill. Until the city got around to it, (if they got around to it at all) it was nothing more than an ice rink on a steep grade. Mark and Alan walked down Fillmore Hill every morning and then back up at night. Walking down the hill was a problem only when the snow was too deep for Alan, then Mark would carry him on his back while he carefully picked his steps. At night, the process was the same. Mark would carry the small boy up the hill, often to find Alan asleep, resting quietly on his shoulder when they reached the top. Alan’s school was only a few blocks south of the hill and the restaurant Mark worked at was a few blocks north. With some cosmic luck, their schedules lined up most days; enabling Mark and Alan to spend the morning and early evening walking Page of 7 20

IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson Scottup and down a hill that many others in town felt nervous climbing, even in a car. The only car they had was a 2007 Taurus, which they had bought for Shannon and her commute to north Denver. If the trip was only three hours, one way, it would be considered a good day. It was a situation that neither Mark nor Shannon liked, but to keep their house, they did what they had to do and hoped that someday something would change. Mark reached the bottom of the hill and let Alan off of his back. Alan smiled and held his father’s gloved hand as they crossed the street, just as they did every morning. Thankful that the morning had not turned out as cold as it could have been, Mark unzipped his jacket a little bit, feeling the sweat building up inside. Alan was getting bigger and Mark wondered how much longer he was going to be able to carry him on days like this. When the day came, Mark knew he would miss it. They walked along silently. Neither of them ever felt the need to fill up the space between them with pointless chatter; the silence and the feel of the tiny hand in his was all the connection that was needed. “Bye, Dad,” Alan said, letting go as soon as they arrived at his elementary school. Alan ran into the building as the bell rang. Mark walked away thinking of the silence of the school after the bell rang, as all the tiny humans finally made their way inside. Within minutes, the absolute chaos of the playground was transformed into an empty shell, with only the sound of the highway in the distance. Mark turned around and made his way to the restaurant, hoping that he would arrive early enough to get to the dishes the night crew typically left piled in the sinks. The idea of being anything more than a dishwasher never occurred to Mark; he first got the job when he was in his mid-twenties and he met Shannon there when she was in college working as a waitress. As was the case in most restaurants, the dishwasher was so low on the food chain that at most times, he was invisible. Yet for some reason, Shannon would talk to Mark more than any other woman in his life ever had. They would stand outside during their breaks and she would smoke while Mark leaned against the building and said very little, but quietly listened to whatever was on her mind. Page of 8 20

IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson Scott Shannon was not attractive in the traditional sense of the word. Although she did everything “right” with her makeup and clothes and she didn’t gain weight no matter what she ate, she simply was not attractive. The nights they talked in the alleyway behind the restaurant, Mark began to see that even though Shannon put on an air of confidence, she was insecure and hurting just like everyone else. After a few weeks, they kissed, and then after a few months, they quietly got married with only Shannon’s sister in attendance. Mark never thought about if he loved Shannon; she was simply the only woman who had ever paid any attention to him and he treasured that. He liked listening to her talk about everything under the sun and felt grateful to be with her. It was simply better than being alone and, after all, he had always known he was no catch. To have someone…anyone… was enough. Shannon left the restaurant quickly after graduating from college and they found a small house on top of Fillmore that needed a substantial amount of work, but at a price, even a young married couple could afford. Mark’s steady job enabled Shannon to bounce from job to job as she found new opportunities. It was only two months after Alan was born that the opportunity came for Shannon to work in Denver. The pay was better but the commute was longer, and with the added expense of having a better car that could make the drive every day, Mark sold his car and took over the job of caring for Alan, and began to walk to work each day. The Upper Fourth Grill was one of many chain restaurants in Colorado Springs; not one of the worst, but not one of the best. Miles away from Paris or Napa, the people of Colorado Springs did not pretend to be ‘foodies’ in any way. What they wanted was a decent atmosphere, a price they could afford, and for the food to arrive quickly enough so that they could make their movie or get back to work on time. Quality of food was an afterthought, and that made The Upper Fourth Grill one of the most popular restaurants in town. When Mark entered through the back door at eight-thirty every morning, he was met by the same damp smell that permeated his clothing. He usually finished mopping floors, wiping down the counter, and running the multiple tubs of unwashed dishes from the night before through the dishwasher Page of 9 20

IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson Scottaround ten. He would then check the walk-in freezer and refrigerator to make sure any prep work that needed to be done was completed. By ten-thirty, the rest of the staff would begin to arrive. Once the line cooks and the wait staff were in place, Mark would assume his position in ‘The Cage’ (as the rest of the staff called it) and wait for the lunch rush to begin. It was called The Cage because there was only a small entrance next to the deep sinks and the other three sides were filled with the large industrial dishwasher, trash cans, and several wire racks where the busboys would drop their tubs full of dishes. Once the lunch rush began, it would be three in the afternoon before Mark would stop taking the dishes from the tubs, place them on the thick plastic racks where he would hose them off above the disposal, and then run them into the industrial dishwasher. Over and over, this assembly line of one would repeat itself during the day. Mark was never noticed by the staff except for when the dishes and glasses did not magically appear when needed; and then, just like a hockey goalie, the rest of the staff would blame him. Not that the bus staff broke a glass at the bottom of the tub, forcing Mark to pull the pieces out one by one; or that someone on the wait staff let their tables pile up, waiting to pay their check so that the dishes flooded into the kitchen like a tsunami. Everything that went wrong was Mark’s fault, for no other reason than there was no one on the totem pole any lower. Mark ignored most of the snide comments and complaints, focusing on getting the next group of dishes out cleaner and quicker than the last. It did not matter if an entire glass of wine was spilled on him or if his back hurt so much that he could hardly twist and turn, as was needed to keep ahead of the rush. When he walked into The Cage, he simply turned off all of his higher brain functions and went to work. It was the only way he knew how to get through the day. At the end of his shift, he would be relieved by one of the line-cook-drug-addicts-of-the-week and he would walk to meet Alan. Alan was far too young to walk up Fillmore Hill so, in the same place in the afternoon where he would let Alan down off his back in the morning, Alan would climb back onto his back and Mark would begin the long, painful trek back up the hill carrying the boy. Once they arrived home, Mark would start on another assembly line that he repeated each night by cleaning the house, Page of 10 20

IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson Scottwashing the clothes when they piled up high enough, and picking up after Alan. Regardless of how many times he went through the house, there always seemed to be something he needed to do. It never ceased to amaze Mark how much damage one small boy could do to a house in the period between getting home and going to bed. Despite being such a calm child, Alan obliviously left a nightly path of destruction in his wake upon his joyful return to the house. Mark thanked whatever luck he had that Alan was not like so many of the other boys he saw on the playground every day. The kind that never seemed to quit moving or yelling. The kind that when their mothers dropped them off at school, a visible sigh of relief would come over their entire being, only to watch at the end of the day as the child climbed back into the car and the mother would mentally prepare herself to do battle with the child, even as they were driving out of the parking lot. Alan, as much a creature of habit as his father, would come home and do his homework without being prompted and then park himself in front of the television until bedtime. He had a habit of doing several things at once and many times would walk in a circle around the couch over and over again as the loud myriad of noises from the cartoons he watched filled the room. He also had a habit of humming and sometimes talking to himself, even as he watched television. Since he was a baby, Mark called it his “chirping”; just sounds from a child who said very little, and it was one of the most comforting things in all of Mark’s life. Standing in front of the microwave, doing his best not to fall asleep on his feet, Mark would listen to Alan’s chirping from the living room and the problems of the day would melt… at least for a little while. When Shannon first got her job in Denver, she would always be home by seven, even if she had to leave work early to do so. After a while, she started to get home later; to the point where she would stay with a friend in the city and, on many nights, not make the commute home at all. Mark knew that Alan missed her but there had always been a distance between the two of them that Mark did not understand. Shannon loved Alan because she was his mother, and Alan loved her for the same reason, but there was no true bond of their souls. Alan had always been Mark’s and, in Shannon’s mind, Mark’s responsibility. Page of 11 20

IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson Scott Mark walked upstairs with Alan and began the nightly routine of putting on pajamas, brushing teeth, and then reading a story. Of all the hardship Mark faced during the day, all the disrespect he encountered, and the fact that no one saw or cared if he was there other than to put clean dishes in a rack, it was all worth it during because during the fifteen minutes he got to put Alan to bed; he was the most important person in the entire world. Watching as the boy looked up with wide eyes as Mark read books and told stories was the single greatest accomplishment during his day. They had been reading the Narnia Chronicles and were up to “The Silver Chair”. On a good night, Mark might get through an entire chapter, but most nights it only took a few pages of reading before Alan was fast asleep. Mark would carefully bookmark the page and set it next to Alan’s bed after he would drift off to sleep. Sometimes Mark would stare at his son, wondering how he could have been so blessed. He thought of a movie that he saw when he was younger that said “The only real wealth we ever achieve is our children.” Watching Alan sleep peacefully for a few minutes, Mark did not feel as if he were an invisible dishwasher; he felt as if he were the richest man he knew. After making sure that all the lights were off and the doors were locked, walking up the stairs in the dark home was the hardest part of his day. Most nights Mark did not crawl into bed but rather collapsed on top of it; asleep before his head touched the pillow. After years of the routine, Mark had learned never to shut the door to his room. Even though it was never done on purpose, the sound of Shannon coming into the room was something that would wake Mark up, regardless of how deep his sleep was. She could come in the front door and up the stairs and Mark would not move; but when the door handle to the bedroom door was turned, it was as if Shannon had fired a gun. Tonight, since the door was open, it was the bedroom light being flipped on that woke Mark up. “Hey,” Shannon said. If she noticed that she had woken Mark up, she did not say anything; she simply dropped her computer bag on the floor and walked into the bathroom, already removing one of her hoop earrings and kicking off her shoes. “You know, Mark, I’ve asked you a million times not to wear those clothes to bed; they stink up the bed. Can you please just change out of those things when you get home? It’s all I Page of 12 20

IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson Scottcould smell when I walked in the door,” Shannon sniffed disdainfully. Mark sat up in bed and tried to focus on anything in the room, doing his best to wake up. He knew trying to get any sleep until Shannon was ready to get into bed was going to be pointless. For lack of a better term, the energy she was putting off told him instantly that tonight would be a night where she would be talking until she finally closed her eyes. Mark took off his shirt and pants and put on a loose-fitting t-shirt and a pair of shorts, sitting back down on the bed, and waited for Shannon to come out of the bathroom. “I hate it when the Broncos play on Monday night. As soon as I got to the Colfax exit, the traffic sucked. I should have stayed with April but I didn’t know about the game so I was stuck in traffic down here. Forty miles with drunken fans being pulled over left and right; what a hell of a mess,” Shannon sighed as soon as she exited the bathroom. She began to walk around the room removing the clothes that she had worn during the day. “Seriously, how stupid do you have to be to get drunk at some dumb football game and then try to drive all the way home in the middle of the winter...?” she continued. Mark knew he was drifting off but that fact failed to lower the volume of Shannon’s rhetorical conversation. He understood that she just simply needed to talk to wind down; if she didn’t get the words out, she would just lay awake in bed and stare at the ceiling, so the best thing to do was to simply be in the room and listen as best he could. The commute was a favorite subject of Shannon’s to complain about because it would always be there and there was very little she could do about it, so to rage against it was how she dealt with it. “There is no way I’m driving that tomorrow night. I’ll probably stay up at April’s for the next couple of days,” Shannon said. Over the last year, she had begun to stay with April more often as her responsibilities at work increased. Mark had never met April and doubted if he ever would. Shannon had made it clear that she wanted to keep her home life and her professional life as separate as possible. She said it helped her relax in each but Mark knew she was not a “relaxing” kind of person. Mark knew the truth. Shannon was ashamed of him. Page of 13 20

IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson Scott He didn’t know why he did it when he was already painfully aware of being so tired, but he said the words he knew would start a fight. “We could always move closer to your job.” Shannon’s look stung him. “Oh? So, we are going to pull Alan out of his school, you are going to quit your job, lose our insurance, and then try to sell this piece of crap home in one of the worst housing markets ever?” “I am just saying that if we factor the time you spend on the road...” “You know what, Mark?” she spat, “How about you don’t factor anything to do with my day into your dumb idea? You don’t know anything that I go through during the day. You have no idea how hard it is to have a real job with real responsibilities,” Shannon said, sitting down at the foot of the bed rubbing her elbows and arms with lotion. “I was thinking about getting a new job anyway,” Mark ventured. Shannon’s laugh was unabashedly mean. “Do you know how lucky you are to have the job that you have? You have no education, you have no skills, yet somehow you managed to stay in one place long enough to get a benefits package better than I can get. That alone is worth more money than your pathetic paycheck. Why would you even think about leaving?” “You know I hate it there,” he sighed. “So what?! Do you think I like my job? You think anyone likes what they do?” Shannon was now pacing the room as her rant accelerated. “I sit in a cube for eight to ten hours a day, going over spreadsheets. That’s all! Do you think I like it? If I quit my job, we lose the house. I don’t want to be there but I do it because we were stupid enough to buy this place and now we have to live with our mistake.” “Fine,” Mark capitulated, totally regretting bringing up the subject. “Look, Mark, I’m sorry you hate your job but do you have any idea how hard it is out there to find any work at all? A guy in my department was fired six months ago and he’s still looking for a job. This guy has a master’s degree, Mark, masters! What chance do you think you have of getting a job when someone that educated can’t find anything? You are not quitting your job,” she stated matter-of-factly. Mark said nothing, turning onto his side and closing his eyes. Page of 14 20

IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson Scott Shannon would spend the next several minutes preparing for bed, and even though Mark knew she wanted to talk about her day, he did everything he could to stop the conversation from progressing any further. She was not in a mood to talk tonight, she was in a mood to fight. He was angry with himself for bringing up getting a new job. He knew better than that. Shannon needed his medical coverage through the restaurant. One of the benefits, the only benefit, to staying at The Upper Fourth Grill was that employees who stayed over ten years received a benefits package unrivaled in the industry. It was easy to offer because almost no one stayed for nearly that long. Essentially, the corporation looked good because the package was on the books, and the number crunchers liked it because they never had to follow through. Mark was that rare exception and Shannon had held onto it like a lifeline ever since. “Why do you always bring this kind of stuff up just before I try to go to sleep?” Shannon whined. Mark had hoped lying on his side and turning his back to her would be a major clue that he did not want to fight. It wasn’t. The fight had begun and Mark knew that it all depended on how much pent up energy Shannon needed to release. He did not move, but he also did not close his eyes or try to sleep, because now there was no point. “I don’t understand you, Mark,” she continued. “We see each other so little these days and yet, when I walk into the room all you want to do is fight with me. It’s amazing to me,” Shannon said, now pacing at the foot of the bed. “Do you know what would be nice, Mark? It would be nice if I could just come home and go to bed without having to deal with your jealousy. I am so sorry that I left being a waitress and decided to make something of my life. I’m sorry that you think it was so easy for me to finish college and then go get a real job rather than staying in the same place for the rest of my life!” Mark sat up in bed but did not say anything. Tonight was a night when he knew he had to be strong and not fight; he had to make the conscious choice not to engage because Shannon lacked the strength to stop herself. He steadied himself against the rising tide, knowing that wave after wave of her barely-repressed anger would be slamming into him shortly. Shannon stood in the doorway, fuming. “Mark, I don’t understand what it is you expect of me. Do you even realize that Page of 15 20

IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson ScottI am staying up at April’s as much as I am staying here? I would like to think that you’d do something to make me feel a little special when I come home. I would like to think that you would want to make sure that when I walk in the door that my paycheck pays for by the way, that you would at least try to make an effort. Do you know what I get instead? I get to drive down to this house and walk in with no lights on, not even on the porch light, and it’s as if you weren’t expecting me at all. I get to walk in and smell that disgusting restaurant all over the house like some kind of dead animal rotting in the attic. I get to come upstairs and find you passed out on the bed stinking to high heaven like some kind of street bum. I get to come home to a man who can’t speak, or feel anything!” Shannon paced the floor and randomly jabbed the air to make her point as she spat her words. “I used to think that it was because you were quiet and contemplative. The truth is, I’m beginning to think that there is absolutely nothing going on in your silence and that you’re simply too stupid to know any better. Do you know what I did last Friday? April and I went to a bar to meet with some clients. After they left, she and I talked all night about politics, books, movies, and it was... great. The only problem is, as I sat there talking about all of this, I knew that I would never be able to share any of that with you. I knew that if I came home and talked about any of it with you, I’d get nothing but the same stupid blank stare you’re giving me now.” Shannon turned off the light in the bedroom and stalked into the bathroom once again. Mark could see her leaning against the sink counter. He did not move to comfort her, he simply remained motionless and waited for the next wave of vitriol. She turned to him in the doorway. “Is this all that we are ever going to be, Mark? I hate myself like this and I hate this life. I hate that when people ask me if I’m married, I have to lie about what you do. I mean seriously, am I supposed to tell my boss, a man who went to Stanford, that my 41-year-old husband is nothing but a dishwasher? Oh! And not only is he nothing more than a filthy, sweat and bleach covered dishwasher but that he was never anything else! My husband does the same job that a 16-year-old kid does after school and on weekends...” She paused to march up to him from the bathroom and lean down in his face to make her final point, and continued “...and will never be anything else! Is that what I’m supposed to tell him? It’s humiliating being married to you.” She stood up and defiantly Page of 16 20

IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson Scottlooked down at Mark, daring him to take the bait and finally participate in the argument. Deep inside himself, he heard a voice that he had known from childhood telling him that Shannon was right; he was not smart enough to be anything else, that this was all he was ever going to be, and he had been fortunate to even get this far. He understood why she was ashamed of him. It was not surprising that she was embarrassed; what was shocking was that at one time, she hadn’t been embarrassed to be seen with him. Now there was nothing to defend. “Your mother tried to warn me,” Shannon sneered as she paced around the room and in and out of the adjoining bathroom as if the walk was responsible for coaxing the anger from her. Only then did Mark react, but in the smallest of ways. His mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed as if punched exactly where a bruise had already existed. Shannon continued her verbal assault. “A week before we got married, did you know she called me? She called me and told me that she couldn’t understand what I was doing with you, that I could do so much better,” she said casually, knowing the words she was saying were flying across the room like knives. “I told her to go to hell. Can you believe that? The woman was reaching out to me, warning me, and I told her to go to hell.” Shannon smacked her forehead in a mocking gesture of disbelief. “I thought I would show her. I thought ‘all he needs is a good woman behind him and Mark could become someone’. I was so stupid. She was right, and as much as I hate her, she was right.” Shannon slammed the door to the bathroom, flooding the bedroom with darkness. Mark sat motionless with his fists clenched and his teeth pressed together. She knew exactly what to say, and even though he had prepared himself to be a rock against her wave upon wave of insults, he knew that inside he was beginning to crumble. He could feel the pressure building to respond, to lash out at her as fiercely as she had attacked him, but if he even opened his mouth a little, the words would break over the levees of his restraint and flood the room and another pointless battle would begin for the supremacy over what neither one of them wanted. He wanted to yell out at the top of his voice and say the foulest and ugliest words he could think of. He knew that it was only... “Dad?” Page of 17 20

IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson Scott Mark looked over in the darkness and saw his boy standing backlit in the doorway from the hall light that he was only now tall enough to barely reach unassisted. “I was having a bad dream...” Alan said, holding back tears of fear and tears of just being a young child in the middle of the night in need of his father. Mark did not recall getting out of bed or walking over to Alan, but the minute the boy was in his arms, still shaking from fear, all the anger and frustration instantly left Mark, and time was frozen. He held Alan as they walked back to the bedroom and Alan wrapped his tiny arms around Mark’s neck as tightly as he could. Mark tried to put Alan back in his bed but the boy would not let go; so very carefully, Mark pulled the small mattress off of the bed and onto the floor, soundlessly lying down next to his son. “Did you want to tell me about your dream?” Mark asked quietly. Alan shook his head ‘no’ and let go of Mark a little, but left his arm over Mark’s neck, and quickly went back to sleep. Mark lay on the floor next to his son, looking up at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars on Alan’s ceiling. Through all of her bitterness and all of her anger, Shannon had been right about him. He had never been anything more than a dishwasher and most likely never would be; what Mark thought was the most pathetic part of it all was that he never thought about how horrible his life was until Shannon came home and reminded him. Mark thought that he must be as stupid as they said because, on the days where everything went smoothly and no one yelled at him for any reason, he was strangely content. There were times after work when he had a good shift, as he walked to get Alan from school, that he was happy. He would look up through the trees to the foothills and mountains of the Colorado Rockies and just breathe in and out as deeply as he could, and be filled with simple joy. His favorite part of the day was when Alan ran out of school with the other kids and hugged Mark like they had not seen each other for weeks. Alan never failed to hug Mark. It was all Mark needed but it wasn’t enough to heal him and he knew it. Alan turned over now, solidly asleep. Mindful of his son’s warmth and innocence, the same old fear rose in his chest and he had to make a conscious effort to breathe. Even with the revelation that he was as simple as everyone had always said he Page of 18 20

IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson Scottwas, Mark knew that it would not be long before Alan realized it too. It was only a matter of time before Alan would turn on him like everyone else and it would only be a few short years before he realized what an insignificant person his father was. It seemed sadly inevitable that Alan would also tell him what a disappointment he was. Maybe that was why Mark was so happy right now; because it was only a matter of time before the hugs after school would stop. It was only a matter of time before the stories would not be told at bedtime. It was only a matter of time before the shadowy look of disappointment would cross Alan’s face just like it had with everyone else in Mark’s life. Mark closed his eyes and began to drift off to sleep. It may only be a matter of time before it all changed, but the time in Alan’s life where Mark was his friend, father, and a hero was happening right now, and he was not about to miss one minute of it. Page of 19 20

IN THE AVAILABLE LIGHT by Grayson Scott Buy In The Available Light On Amazon Today www.graysonscott.ioPage of 20 20