Chapter 17 of A Net Too Wide To Break His Fall, by Matt Boothman
I wrote this story chapter by chapter, without outlining first. It was an experiment in writing consistently, producing a chapter once a month, without fail, for the Foggy Outline newsletter. So don’t expect something polished or finished; but what it does have is momentum, and a fluidity that came from wanting to change things up enough to keep myself interested enough to write more.
If you’d be interested in a properly edited, fleshed out, finished version of this story, let me know!
“Callum…”
Five years of unsaid words jostled for control of Marielena’s voice. Pragmatism jumped the queue. “I’m boarding in twenty minutes.”
“If you still want to talk to me then, I’ll come with,” said Callum. “I’m sure there’ll be a free seat.”
Mari locked her phone and shoved it deep into her bag. She turned her eyes on Callum and saw him. He was used to people looking straight through him. Mari was looking into him, in a way no one else could. She saw the whole of him, comparing him to her memory and scrutinising him for change. No one else in his life knew him well enough to see him so thoroughly. It shocked him like a cold plunge. He’d forgotten how frightening it was to be seen. The possibility of his flaws being found out. But he was here to bare them.
“I’m sorry,” Mari said at length, “did you say you wanted to apologise?”
“I fucked it all up again,” he said. “Every situation you ever set me up with, I managed to fuck it up. Took a few years this time, but here I am still. I promise I tried. I always try. I just can’t seem to hang on–”
“It’s all right.” Mari grabbed him. Her fingers clutched sleeve, and under it skin, flesh, bone. Not thin air. “Callum, it’s all right. I missed you, okay? Are you okay?”
She’d handed him over to Vivian Hithercombe so she wouldn’t have to think about him any more. Right? So she wouldn’t have to miss him. Hadn’t that been the idea?
He managed to say “It’s been hard” and then couldn’t get any more words out.
Mari pulled him closer. Sitting on the high stool, she was a little taller. He heaved sobs into her shoulder. Brother and sister held onto each other while travellers moved past, oblivious to them both.
“I’m the one who should be apologising,” said Mari softly. “I should never have left you with her, without an out. I just … back then I didn’t know what else to do with you.”
“It’s not your fault. I didn’t make it easy.”
Callum stood straight, weight back on his own feet, and rubbed life back into his face.
“Walk with me,” said Mari, hopping down from the stool and gathering her things. “Let’s work out where we go from here.”
They marched arm in arm towards the gate.
“I caught wind of what happened to Vivian,” said Mari. “Did she introduce you to anyone else worthwhile? Anyone at all? Or is it a complete and utter bust?”
Callum thought about the staff in the diner by the Horizon, long since scattered to other jobs, other places. He thought about Big Anton, who he’d never aspired to know and who’d at first resented, and then deeply regretted ever knowing Callum. He thought about Lisaveta, who he’d made first a victim, then a reluctant ally. And…
“Not an utter bust,” he said slowly. “But it’s complicated.”
“It’s a long enough flight,” said Mari. “Arrange to empty a seat next to me and let’s talk it all through.”
Marielena carefully finished chewing and swallowing her in-flight pastry before pronouncing, “Yeah, you’re still full of shit.”
“‘I–” Callum bit down on an indignant outburst.
“No, listen. You’re doing better. Vivian wasn’t your fault. And the fact you came to find me again instead of moping yourself into a lonely grave means you obviously get some things you didn’t get before. That’s great. But this clean slate chat? This is the same old burned bridge, scorched earth Callum talking again.”
“After everything I just told you,” said Callum, “why would you think there’s anything I’d want to hang onto from that part of my life?”
“The bad stuff’s going to cling to you anyway, little bro,” said Mari. “You might as well cling to the good stuff. You’re not going to accidentally un-learn everything you learned just because you’re around people who knew you while you were still learning it. Although you are regressing into a whiny brat right now, so maybe I’m wrong.”
“It’s not that.” Callum could hear the whine now, which only made it worse.
“What is it, then? This Lisaveta and Autumn – they got you out. They helped you get free. What’s got you so desperate to cut them out again?”
“Autumn Wray Benjamin is some kind of spy, or like a security services asset or something,” he said. “I don’t want to get on the radar of someone like that. Seems like a great way to end up being studied in a lab.”
“At least you’d have people to talk to.” Mari elbowed him and spilled her tea. “Shit–” She pulled a string of tissues out of her bag to mop the tray table and her dress. “No, I’m sorry, I do get that. Let’s avoid that if we can. But I don’t buy that reason. You are involved with this person. Just because you haven’t been introduced doesn’t mean you don’t have a relationship. It’s just one that’s not very fair on them. They don’t get an opinion because they don’t know you exist yet, even after everything they did for you. You should at least get introduced before you decide to nope out of their life forever.”
Callum was silent while the tea-soaked tissues dried on the tray table.
“They don’t deserve it,” he said.
Mari put a hand on his.
“What if I just do what I always do?” he said. “Go to the trouble of getting introduced and then just watch it wither. I don’t know yet how to make a relationship like that grow. I want to learn but I know I’m not there yet. I don’t want Autumn – I don’t want them to end up as another burned bridge.”
“If you walk away now without saying goodbye,” said Mari, “which means saying hello first, by the way – if you walk away now, that’s exactly what they’ll be. The bridge is built. If you don’t want to burn it, you’ve only got one option. You have to cross it, so you can both start shoring it up.”