Prologue
"Ash?" He questioned softly with concern lacing his deep voice and words floating into the crisp air as he exited the front door of the farmhouse and squinted his eyes through the darkness of the night in search of his fuming sister who had stormed out in a fury of anger, her boots heavily knocking against the hardwood floors loudly the whole way out before she allowed the door to slam behind her.
Their argument had been an awful one this time, furious words heaved back and forth in the confines of the small kitchen as he stood by idly and watched, unsure of whether to intervene or let it run its course. It was not one of the worst fights between the two; but it had been bad enough to warrant the need for space from the man they called their father.
Mike Harris.
A salt of the earth coal miner born from a time when a man's only sense of self-worth came from the job he had and the work he did. All his adult life he'd spent acquiring his calloused hands with their thick pads and rugged fingernails with permanent layers of grime caked beneath them. His slumped shoulders and arched back were merely a result of the pain he'd shouldered daily, shoveling cart loads of coal from the mountains of North Carolina. It was a job he'd grown to resent, such a stark contrast to the joy and happiness he'd felt when he'd received news of the mass recruitment of coal workers in 1983, his father helping him land the job that he just knew would be his ride to success. It became, however, something else entirely when a stick of dynamite blew prematurely, killing his father and trapping several others for days. It had been one of the hardest times in his life to that point, having looked up to his father in the loving way any son does when they have a great one. It had been enough heartache to last two lifetimes. Little did he know then, it would only be the start. The years after had been anything but sympathetic, seeing fit to take his beloved wife from him during a rough labor and leaving him alone to raise twins, a girl and a boy, who almost immediately became the apples of his eyes. It was only in the last six years that he'd really begun butting heads with the younger of the two, his rebellious daughter.
Though they had always had this strained relationship for whatever reason, it was his old fashioned ideals and opinions that were the main reason for the rift that had formed between him and Ashlyn as of late. He'd wanted nothing more than for them both to graduate school and get a good job, settle down with a good spouse and make themselves a home. Though they both rebelled against this in their own ways, it was Ashlyn who had struck a nerve within him the most. She had dropped out of school, barely completing her GED and decided to entertain her first year of adulthood with parties and numerous women.
Chris sighed as he thought of how much his sister and father were losing by continuously fighting during each and every encounter. It had been such a shame that they had lost their mother, but it was even more unfortunate that their father was still here and yet he and Ashlyn couldn't find it in them to get along with each other. They just couldn’t put aside their differences and find a way to meet in the middle on sturdy common ground.
Who knew when the day would come that they wouldn't have that chance anymore?
"Ash? Are you out here still?" He called, hopeful she hadn’t left as he pulled his bomber jacket tightly together in the front, his whitened fingertips cold from the air as they gripped the fabric as he walked his large frame around the porch to the side of the house.
It was then that he spotted the lone shadowy figure of his sister leaning against the siding, the only evidence being the cloud of smoke and faint glow of the lit cigarette as it moved towards her face. Hoping from the porch with his boots kicking up gravel, he made his way towards her as he smiled softly, fondly remembering the first time they were both caught smoking back there. It had been well past midnight and, being fifteen year olds with a rebellious streak, they'd snuck out their windows to light up a pack they'd received from an older friend earlier that day.
"You two better pray that I don't find cigarette butts out there… or your asses will be grounded for the rest of the year," Chris mocked in an uncanny impression of their father's voice as he came to a stop in front of the leaning figure of his sister.
Ashlyn immediately smirked in amusement and stubbed the cigarette out on the ground, leaning back once again and taking a deep breath to allow the fresh night air to wash over her.
“God, I remember how mad he was," Chris added before smiling at the memory, laughing as he came to stand next to his sister, leaning back against the siding in much the same way.
"Yeah," Ashlyn's husky voice finally made itself known with a chuckle before blowing out a puff of breath, her blonde locks of hair whipping around haphazardly in the breeze. It was late November and the wind this time of year in the hills of North Carolina brought with it a certain chill.
"I never thought, out of the two of us, that you'd be the first to quit. You always seemed to get me to follow you into trouble," she finished with adoration and a raised eyebrow, her voice soft and gravelly as she chuckled.
"Yeah," Chris smiled fondly at his sister's admission, reminiscing about the times when he would have a brilliant idea and coax little Ashlyn into joining him with it; and being the younger one by a whole four and a half minutes Ashlyn gladly obliged.
"You know he doesn't hate you Ash. He just… doesn't understand you. That's all." His voice confessed softly as he leaned against the old farmhouse beside his sister, bumping his shoulder lovingly against hers.
Though it was a farmhouse— a two story dirty white house situated on ten acres of green, plush land with a rusty old grain silo and a small red barn with the paint chipping away— Chris could never remember ever growing or farming anything. He surmised it had been a dream of their mother's to raise a family here, a dream that his father just could never bring himself to let go of.
"That's funny because you and I both have always stuck together. We go to the same parties… You may have graduated without me, but we've been in trouble together countless times… If he doesn't hate me, then why is it always my face that shit gets thrown in?" Ashlyn released angrily before fingering her half smoked pack, ripping open the top and fishing out another. Her lanky fingers grasped her lighter in one hand while shielding the flame with the other as the stick was lit ablaze.
"He's just stressed out right now," Chris replied as he kicked a rock with the toe of his boot, knowing that their father had always had a hard time with Ashlyn because of how she came into this world. It was during her birth that complications arose, but he himself would never ever blame his dear sister for an act of God. It was also something that Ashlyn was completely unaware of; Chris had only accidently found out one night as he’d found his father mumbling drunkenly in his sleep. "I finally told him last week."
"I take it he didn't like the idea?" Ashlyn questioned with a sarcastic chuckle before inhaling another drag, the tip of the cigarette lighting up momentarily as the smoke filled her lungs. Such an unhealthy habit, but she promised herself that she would stop one day.
"No, actually…" he paused momentarily, knowing that the next statement would hurt his sister a bit even though she’d never let on. "He's quite proud of me."
"You always were his favorite,” she replied genuinely, not meaning to sound bitter and continuing before Chris could protest. "It's okay Chris, you deserve to have him proud of you. I'm proud of you. You're doing something I would never have the balls to do."
Smirking, Chris wasted no time in leaning in towards her before suggesting, "You know, they have a buddy system…"
Ashlyn's eyebrows rose in disinterest before sardonically replying,, "As much as I would love to join you, someone has to stick around here so Dad has a punching bag." Her eyes rolled in irritation, knowing that the disabled man would be completely lost if they both left to fight a war for the rich people and their oil.
"No you don't," Chris said solemnly before rubbing Ashlyn's shoulder in comfort. He could almost physically feel how much his impending departure was affecting his usually stoic and hard-ass of a sister, their unique bond allowing them insight into one another’s psyche as they were able to read each other so easily, like a favorite novel. "You don't have to stay here Ash. He'll manage on his own."
"Nah, I know… Besides, I have a few gigs lined up," she dismissed, quickly excusing her real reasons before inhaling her last bit of nicotine and flicking the filter across the lawn. "I'm hoping it works out you know?"
"I'm sure it will," Chris offered as he grabbed for Ashlyn's pack, knowing his sister would only light up another one in a minute or so and was getting a head start so that he could join his sister for one last smoke before he left in the morning for basic training. "You have no idea how talented you are, Ash."
Ashlyn smiled a small faint smile as she handed over the lighter, watching in amusement as her brother had trouble lighting up the first one he’d touched since they were sixteen, trying multiple times to flick the lighter without success.
"Here, let me." And with that, she ignited the tip of Chris's goodbye cigarette and swallowed the lump in her throat as she thought about what the following day would bring— Chris leaving her for the first time in their lives.
For a long moment they stood solemnly side by side leaning against the only house they'd ever lived in with its jagged almond-colored siding and rotted porch swing, relishing in the last moments of their time together for a long while. It had always been an easy relationship between the two, never really having those sibling fights or rivalries. Instead, they'd stuck up for one another, never letting the other feel alone or sad for too long— never letting the other fall.
Throughout school Chris had been the popular one,
—the captain of the football team, the homecoming king, the local town hero— while his twin sister was the black sheep— the social outcast with tattoos and piercings who’d found herself in the principal's office more times than he could count. However, they neither one regarded each other as anything other than a best friend— a near soulmate. It was this special bond that always had Chris interjecting when a disagreement or fight would erupt between the two most hard-headed people in his family, always standing up for Ashlyn whatever the case might have been. He knew his father's blame was needed; their mother and the love of his life had been taken from him, and he surmised that it had and would still hurt an awful lot. But his blame was just misplaced and Chris would always fight like hell to keep his sister from bearing the brunt of it, even if he regrettably failed from time to time.
"Are you scared?" Ashlyn's soft voice cut through the silence as she fished the last of her smokes from her pack, lighting it immediately, the smoke joining that of her brother’s and swirling up into the atmosphere.
"I feel like I should be, but I'm not," he answered with vulnerable honesty as he took a burning drag once more, his lungs not nearly as used to the sensation as they once were years ago. "I guess I'm just excited for this adventure, you know? I mean, our whole lives we've just been stuck in this little town and I guess I'm just ready for a change."
Ashlyn nodded before shyly admitting almost under her breath as her eyes glanced downward to study her boots, "I would be scared."
"Ash, you're a lot braver than you give yourself credit for," he argued as he stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette, unable to actually finish it completely. "I mean, look, you're putting yourself and your songs out there. I know how personal they are and how much they mean to you. That takes guts if you ask me."
"Hah, I don't have a choice," she huffed as her smoke blew out in a thick cloud in front of her, reflecting the light from the moon. "It's the only thing I've ever been even halfway decent at."
"That's a lie," Chris rebutted before adding with a smirk. "I've always found you to be quite good at being my sister." His smile nearly reached his ears as he glanced sideways at Ashlyn.
"Please Chris," Ashlyn argued as she lifted her cigarette to her lips, scoffing at the idea. "Our whole lives you've always been there protecting me. I've never done anything in return."
Shaking his head profusely as if he were debating that of the utmost importance, Chris offered with a firm voice, "That's not true and you know it. When that asshole Bobby McKey wanted to jump me in the parking lot during our junior high winter dance, who kneed him in the balls?"
Ashlyn only rolled her eyes before reluctantly answering through a knowing smile, "Me."
"And when Dad found his missing stack of Playboys in our room after weeks of searching for them, who took the blame?"
"Me," she replied again and quickly adding before Chris could continue, her finger pointed for emphasis, "BUT only because he assumed it was me. I just didn't argue. Nothing noble about keeping your mouth shut."
"Whatever," he said as his mind came up with all sorts of instances in which Ashlyn had very much been there for him during their ninteen years on Earth. "Who was it that woke up in the middle of the night and rode her bike all of the way to Johnson's curve to help me get Dad's truck out of the mud after I snuck out and stole the keys?"
"I should have just gone with you to begin with," Ashlyn shook her head, rolling her eyes at the memory as she stubbed her last butt out against the bottom of her boot. "He would have killed you had we not been able to get it out. Good thing he was passed out drunk…"
"You even helped me wash the mud off so that he would never know," Chris added to further his point as Ashlyn's head was still shaking, laughter beginning to accompany it.
"And all for Sherrie Baker…"
"Whatever Ash! You know you would have nailed her if you could have," Chris stated with pride for his conquest, his finger pointed right into Ashlyn's shoulder. "You only didn't go that night because you were jealous."
"I was so not jealous," she argued with raised eyebrows. "Besides, the real reason I didn't go was because…"
"You were mad I got her first…"
"No! I didn't go because… because I was with Jessica Baker in our tree house…" Ashlyn trailed off with a knowing smirk moments before Chris's fist collided with her shoulder in jest, a scoff leaving her brother’s lips.
"Wasn't she the hotter one?" She asked with a sarcastic finger to her chin in contemplation as she remained unfazed by the hit, her lips curling upward in pride. "Hmm… I believe so… and a college girl."
"SHUT UP!" Chris finally managed to squeal out, running a hand over his beard. "You did not!"
"Call her up and ask her," Ashlyn challengingly shrugged with quiet confidence, knowing he would never have the balls to do so. "I wouldn't lie to you. I just never told you 'cause I didn't want you to feel bad."
"Whatever," he admonished with a shake of his head. "My point is that you've always been there for me in your own way, whether you think so or not."
"It's because you're all I have, Chris," she said softly without question, sincerity shining distinctly in her hazel orbs as she gazed up into her brother’s identical ones. "Yeah, there's Dad… but we both know how he feels about me."
Her gaze then met her feet as she wondered what she could have done that caused him to despise her so much lately. She’d say it was because she was gay, but he had never seemed to care much about that or have anything really to say about it.
"He's just dealing in his own way Ash," Chris offered as he looked out over the dark expanse of their property, illuminated solely by the moonlight. "He feels like he's losing me and he's scared of you leaving too. He's only trying to push you away to make it easier."
"I don't think that's it, but thanks for trying," she said bluntly and Chris smiled.
"You still gonna drive me tomorrow?" He asked after a moment of silence settled between them as they looked out into the black expanse of their property.
"Do I have a choice?" Ashlyn asked with a raised eyebrow. "Can't I just lock you in the closet until you're too old to join?"
Chris's uncontained, throaty laughter broke out as he made note of the less than subtle reference to the time when he had locked Ashlyn in the closet when they were fourteen to keep her from sneaking out for her first date with a girl, threatening much the same. Though it's quite amusing to think back on now, it was a very scary time for him to feel like Ashlyn was slipping away.
"Oh Ash," he chided with a smile, his head shaking in amusement. "You act like I'm never coming back. In three months is my graduation and I'll be back for a short while before deployment. We'll have a blast then. You can tell me about all of the girls you've… courted; and I'll tell you about all of the asses I've kicked. It'll be great!"
"Just do one thing for me, Chris," Ashlyn requested without elaboration, letting his curiosity hang in the air a moment.
"Yeah?"
"If you have a sexy drill sergeant," she continued as Chris rolled his eyes, knowing where her line of thinking was headed. "Don't play it safe."
"I'll try not to," he sarcastically answered with a chuckle as they once again fell into a comfortable silence.
“You know what's funny?" He asked after several minutes of staring across the lawn, Ashlyn's gaze meeting the side of his face in anticipation. "It seems like only yesterday we were fourteen and sneaking up to the tree house to drink Dad's beers; and now here we are, nineteen and I'm joining the Army and you're playing your music. It just all goes by so fast doesn't it, Ash?"
"I'm gonna miss you," Chris heard his sister whisper through a reluctant sniffle, not being one to openly cry much. "I don't know what I'm gonna do here without you around to bail me out of trouble."
They both laughed heartily at her statement before finding themselves in a tight, loving embrace, Chris’s large arms engulfing her as she buried her face in his chest to breathe him in once more.
"Oh, Ashy," Chris replied through his own tears, stroking his sister’s unruly hair and using a nickname he hadn't said aloud in at least three years or so. "You'll be okay. You're stronger than you know."
"What if I'm not?" Ashlyn's unsure voice uttered as they pulled out of their embrace, each of them wiping their eyes in a failed attempt at keeping their composure.
"Then I'll come back and go all commando on your ass and whip you into shape," he answered with a welcomed joke that had both sisters laughing with much needed lightheartedness.
"That'll be the day," Ashlyn rolled her eyes in question of her brother’s ability to in fact beat her at anything physical. Though he was much larger than her in stature, she matched him in competitiveness and tenacity, their wrestling matches being pretty well evenly matched.
———————————————————————
The following morning saw Ashlyn driving her brother over two hours to the airport where he checked in with his recruitment officer, followed by the two of them walking to the waiting area outside of the terminal. It wasn't too long after when boarding began and the twins bid an emotional farewell before Ashlyn stuck around to see the plane take off with her brother and best friend aboard, heading in the opposite direction of where she was at that moment. It almost became too much to bear as the weight of her sudden loneliness crashed down upon her in waves and she found herself on her knees with tears streaming down her cheeks, wondering how she was going to get through the hardest time she’d ever been faced with.
Never in her life had she thought it would be this hard to watch her brother leave— her heart had pounded and nearly escaped her chest as she watched the plane take off down the runway. Her eyes had filled with the largest of tears as her hands tightly gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles and her fingertips pressing firmly into her palms. Suddenly, their entire childhood flashed before her eyes— all of the times they'd been in trouble, all of the fun they'd had together, and all of the times they cried on each other's shoulders played at the speed of light through her mind like an old movie on a grainy screen and it left her feeling completely and utterly miserable.
All her life, Chris had been there for her, making her laugh and feel loved and included— made her feel like she belonged. He was the only one who ever did so as certainly their father wasn't about to. Chris had been her rock, her savior, and the one person she could turn to and know that everything would be okay— the one person who kept her from trouble. Now, however, she would be left alone to her own devices and she shuddered at the possibility of what that could mean for her.