Running Northwest Read online

  Running Northwest

  Running

  Northwest

  Michael J. Melville

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, and incidents are either products of the authors imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, businesses and people both living and dead are purely coincidental. All cities and outdoor locations in this book are very much real places.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

  No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author, Michael J. Melville.

  Copyright © 2012 Michael J. Melville

  Second Edition August 2012

  All rights reserved.

  DEDICATION

  To Kat, Thank you for the faith and encouragement to stick with it when I lost faith in the book, myself and us. Without you, this might have never happened, and I’ll always be thankful you were there. You know a part of me no one else ever will.

  To Amy S., Thank you for pissing me off and being my inspiration at the start. And also for being one the greatest friends I have ever known.

  For all my close friends who watched and listened for over three years while I wrote this…you all are my backbone in writing as well as life.

  Chapters

  Prologue xiii

  One 1

  Two 15

  Three 28

  Four 41

  Five 58

  Six 78

  Seven 95

  Eight 119

  Nine 143

  Ten 158

  Eleven 192

  Twelve 213

  Thirteen 223

  Fourteen 239

  Fifteen 247

  Sixteen 256

  Seventeen 267

  Eighteen 279

  Nineteen 282

  Twenty 291

  Twenty One 304

  Twenty Two 315

  Twenty Three 344

  Twenty Four 366

  Twenty Five 385

  Twenty Six 397

  Twenty Seven 417

  Twenty Eight 432

  Twenty Nine 443

  Thirty 465

  Thirty One 469

  Thirty Two 480

  Thirty Three 489

  Thirty Four 505

  Thirty Five 514

  Thirty Six 520

  Thirty Seven 535

  Thirty Eight 543

  Thirty Nine 554

  Forty 570

  Forty One 582

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Writing this book has not been the easiest project and has had its fair share of difficulties, good times and memories. It is not my first but third full novel, but this is the first one that I have published and quite honestly that was not even my intention until I hit chapter 20; only then did I consider it.

  Running Northwest has been a journey not just in writing but also in the years that have raced by while I wrote and despaired over it. The novel itself is well-traveled since I wrote it in various parts of Michigan, Oregon, Idaho, Illinois and Florida.

  I remember many times when my friends were having coffee just a few tables away from me laughing, talking and having fun while I was plugging away on this project. Usually they left me alone, so I could write but I did miss a lot of time with them. I owe them a lot and thank them deeply for the privacy even when many of them had no idea what I was actually doing. I sit here and think about the relationships and friends that have come and gone during this process and how they and I have changed over nearly four years. Ten years ago, I could never have imagined I would be publishing a novel. In those days I was content on writing for fun never intending on it going farther than that. It is crazy how things change in a relatively short amount of time.

  During the process of writing this, back when I was 31, I decided to go back to college at Grand Valley State University in West Michigan to earn a B.A. in Writing with a focus on Creative Writing. Before I started back at college, I spent a large portion of my day writing this or something else and basically doing whatever I wanted. When I started college and the typical workload hit me, I wondered if I should have waited until this novel was done before I started school again. At times I never thought it would be done at all, and honestly it took a year longer to complete than I thought it would or wanted it too. I made it work to best of my ability even though it was not easy; many nights of less than adequate sleep happened and still will.

  I especially owe a lot to Kathy, Kat as I call her, for keeping me on track, giving me strength, being my sounding board and especially for not running away when I got angry and frustrated with all phases of the writing process, school and life in general. I would sit in her garage, “my office,” for hours on end during the day and late at night, typing away surrounded by coffee cups; covered in a haze of cigarette smoke; away in my own little world. I am glad you were able to see the part of Oregon; my Oregon; that inspired so much of this novel; I so am glad I could share it with you. When others ran, you did not and still have not, despite my own personal flaws. Thank you for standing by me.

  These characters are amalgamations of many people I have known over the years: ex-girlfriends, lovers, friends that I no longer talk to, newer friends and just plain random strangers that I have run across in my travels and day to day life. As a writer and artist, I get inspiration from everything I see and everything around me.

  As such, I want to say thank you to the beaches, oceans and mountains I walked on and in; the waterfalls and woods I sat by and wandered through; my current dogs and ones that passed away; Oregon’s truly amazing coastline that is the backdrop for this and future novels; the roads traveled and the memories gained and forgotten. Additionally, I want to say thank you to one truck stop diner in particular in Michigan on US 131, just south of Grand Rapids. They have allowed me to nearly live there and drink far more coffee than any sane person should drink. Their atmosphere, customers and sassy servers are a giant part of this novel.

  As the book finally closes on writing Running Northwest and I began to work on my next project while still in college full time at the age of 33. It appears that I will be repeating parts of this journey all over again. It is a nice feeling to accomplish something some said would never happen. They know who they are…and can kiss my ass.

  Thank you, the reader, for purchasing this bit of writing; I hope you enjoy it and continue down the path with me. Do not be a stranger and feel free to share your thoughts. For all those who have been waiting for the second edition to come out, thank you for waiting, for the patience and staying interested in my work.

  Finally, I need to thank my cover artist Joe DeCommer, who created an amazing painting for the novel’s print version and 1st edition eBook cover. Joe it was a pleasure to work with you and I sincerely hope we have opportunity to work together again. Victor Fuentes, my talented friend and ally who did the cover layouts and designs on both the 1st and 2nd editions of RNW and also for my next novel Ashes on Water. I cannot wait for other projects we will conquer together. You made my work look wonderful and something we both deserve to be proud of. You will go far with your talents. Kate Steketee, my friend and original editor, thank you for putting in the work that you did with RNW despite my vast frustrations with issues within the 1st edition. I am well aware though of the condition the manuscript was in when I first gave it to you and recognize the hard work you put into it despite how things turned out. I want to especially thank my dear friend Margie Piell for helping me “re-edit” this 2nd edition and getting it to be something I can really be proud of. Moreover thank you for being a great new friend and giving me and open ear when my fru
strations were high. I also want to thank the 2 others who helped me re-edit this book who chose to remain nameless, you know who you are. Your faith in my writing and sticking with me means more than I can say.

  Thank you all.

  Prologue

  On the side of a dark and desolate Oregon coast road; Thomas James stood by himself hidden in the shadows. Alone and lost in thought, he felt detached. He eventually crumpled to the ground, his legs giving way beneath his large frame. The previous few hours were replaying in his mind like a bad movie. About two hours prior, he got a phone call from the county police. It took him barely five minutes to get to the accident…she was almost home.

  When he pulled up hours earlier near the flashing emergency lights he was amazed at how many there were. When he got out of his truck, he could feel the glances and glares boring into his head and body. It was nearly 1 am; there usually was not much traffic on the road at this time of night. Now, there were cars starting to back up. The road was completely closed going both north and south. This was a small town on the Oregon Coast and everybody knew everyone; at the very least, they heard everything rather quickly.

  Thomas stepped out of his truck, pulled the collar of his black pea coat up and walked towards the mass of flashing lights. The rain was coming down harder now than when he left his small house on the beach a few minutes north. People were standing by the police tape as he approached, most of which were holding umbrellas. He looked to the right of him and saw a News truck parked on the side of the road. He growled under his breath at the sight of them. The rain hit and ran down his face, his hair was soaked but he did not care…his heart was beating out of control in his chest. As he got closer, he walked through the small crowd of nosey onlookers; he recognized some of the faces.

  As he walked, he felt someone’s hand on his shoulder and heard the faceless person say something that was probably meaningful and heartfelt but he did not care and pressed forward. He did not pay attention as he ducked under the police caution tape, silently ignoring the yells from a younger police officer telling him to stop.

  An older officer approached Thomas with a grim look on his face, shooing away the younger police officer that just caught up to him and grabbed his arm.

  “He’s fine Jerry, I’ve been waiting for him,” the old man said sticking his hand out towards his friend.

  The younger officer’s face went slack. Thomas shot him a murderous glare then looked towards the older man and nodded at him.

  “Gary,” Thomas simply said then reached out to shake the sheriff’s hand.

  It was then that he realized how badly his hands were shaking – and not from the cold October breeze.

  “Hey Tom,” Gary said looking down at Thomas’ large hand, also noticing the shaking…and the glazed look in his younger friends eyes.

  Thomas could feel the stares again coming from all around him: the other police, EMS crew, firefighters, nosey bystanders and a few friends. It felt like they were all trying to read his thoughts and sense his feelings.

  “Gary, tell me what happened,” he asked his friend.

  “We can talk about the details later, partner. Just know that it was bad. It took a while to get her out of the car. We actually we just did a few minutes ago,” Gary said.

  Thomas shook his head up and down in a silent response. He looked over to what was left of her car and the wreckage of the semi, shocked at how bad it was.

  “Can I see her, Gary? I really need to see her,” Thomas asked.

  “I don’t know Tom, I don’t think…I don’t know if you really want to do that,” Gary replied.

  “Please Gary…I have to,” Thomas said as he looked directly into the sheriffs eyes.

  Gary looked into Thomas’ eyes, studying them, trying to see if his young friend had the strength to do what he needed to do.

  “Yeah, of course, sorry Tom…follow me,” Gary said reluctantly.

  The two men walked silently towards a pair of EMS personnel who were standing next to a stretcher that was lowered near the ground. Thomas stopped short and looked at the sheriff who also stopped, realizing that Thomas was going to say something.

  “She didn’t suffer did she, Gary? I mean, how long did she last for?” Thomas asked quietly.

  “Tom, we can talk about that later,” Gary said.

  “No, Gary, I need to know right now!” Thomas yelled, suddenly agitated as his emotions began to show openly.

  He quietly apologized for the outburst to Gary, who in turn smiled and patted him on the shoulder, as if to silently say it was okay.

  “She was gone by the time we got here Tom, but your girl was tough; I think she fought for a while.” Gary said.

  “How do you know that?” Thomas asked, an eyebrow beginning to rise.

  “A hunch, I’ll tell you later, just go see your girlfriend,” Gary said.

  Thomas shook his head again in response, his mind a blur. The two men again walked towards the stretcher. As they got closer, Gary walked over to the EMS crew.

  “Hey guys, give him a bit of time with her okay?” he said.

  The two EMS personnel nodded in response. They walked away leaving the giant of a man alone with his dead girlfriend.

  He stood, briefly looking down at the stretcher, a few rain and blood soaked sheets hiding her body. He walked closer, then fell to his knees in the mud and the water. His breathing was heavy and hard; it felt like the air was being sucked right out of his body. Despite the rain, he felt hot and nauseated. He took his coat off and covered her body with it. He just had a black t-shirt on underneath that was soaked through already.

  Thomas pulled the sodden sheets from over her face and shoulders. He leaned forward and put his hand on the side of her face. He gently rubbed her cheeks with his thumb and ran his fingers through the hair on the side of her head that was soaked with water and dirt, trying not to pay attention to the blood mixed into her hair. He leaned farther down and put his face right next to hers so their cheeks were touching, the rain hiding the tears that were now pouring down his face.

  He was not normally an overly emotional man, but tonight in the rain, storm, and dirt everything Thomas hid from everyone in the world, except from her, came out. Tonight he held the broken body of the woman he had spent his whole life hoping for in his arms. The woman who had made him believe in anything and everything; the woman who made him believe there was still reason to hope when he thought all hope was lost. More than anything, she was the only woman who had ever truly believed in him. Who believed that he could walk away from the bad things that haunted him from his past. She was his best and most true friend she was everything to him. She brought everything together, made everything beautiful and amazing. She was the missing piece of the puzzle of his heart and life. Now that she was gone, he felt as though the best part of his life was gone. Sitting there alone with her, the woman he loved covered in a dirty sheet in the rain, he felt instantly broken, suddenly and awkwardly lost…he felt less of a man…empty.

  After a few minutes, his tears turned to thick, deep, full-bodied uncontrollable sobs. He made no effort to conceal or hide his pain and heartbreak. He cried hard enough so that even God and his angels certainly must have heard what he was going through.

  He sat up slightly, still on his knees, leaning over his girlfriend’s body. He grabbed her small hand and held it with both of his own. He brought their entwined fingers to his rain and salt soaked lips and kissed them gently, as he had done so many times before. He cried harder than he ever had in his entire life.

  Suddenly, as if on cue from Hell itself the rain came down in thick heavy sheets. The wind blew harder as it came off the Pacific Ocean that was only 100 yards away. The forces of nature made the huge trees around the area sway; the leaves and small branches blew around and around. People began to scatter to escape Nature’s fury. Nevertheless, Thomas stayed vigilant by his girlfriend’s side, not noticing anything going on around him. Although Gary, the other police officers and em
ergency crews were only 20 or 30 feet away they could hardly see Thomas and the lifeless body of his girlfriend. The wind and the rain were now nearly drowning out Thomas’ heavy guttural cries and screams. They were frightening to those who were able to hear him.

  Again, Thomas put his hand on the side her face, gently stroking it with his large fingertips. He leaned over and looked at her face – dirty, wet and cold but still beautiful. In his heart, she was still alive and smiling. He lightly and tenderly rubbed his thumb over her lips then leaned closer and kissed her one last time. In his mind, he saw the life that in a few weeks they would have begun together. A life they had wanted practically since the day they met over a year before. A life of hopes and dreams, adventures, long walks on the beach, campfires, long talks through the night and a family perhaps. A life filled with wild and passionate love; a life that would never happen now, not the way they had both hoped and wanted. Thomas stopped kissing her and rested his forehead on hers. At Thomas’ rented beach house were two empty plates and a burning candle on the kitchen table. Next to them was a small box with a diamond ring inside. It was waiting for a woman who would never hold it, never see its sparkle in her eye or enjoy the look of it on her hand.

  As the crying continued through the rain, there was a flash somewhere in front of him but he hardly noticed, let alone cared. Thomas closed his eyes, still clutching her small, lifeless hand in his. Feeling alone in the downpour, through his tears, he whispered quietly to his dead fiancée the words she loved to hear him say ever since the first time he told her.

  Thomas kissed Sarah’s forehead one last time. Then pulled the soaking sheets back over her. He slowly lifted his large, but now weak, body off the ground and looked over towards his friend Gary, the county sheriff. Thomas nodded to him to come over to where he was standing. As Gary approached, he managed a sympathetic smile to his friend.

  “Thanks for that, Gary,” Thomas said quietly adding, “I just needed to say goodbye in my own way, or at least the best that I knew how.”