Primrose

Primrose- Chapter 4

Over the past decade, Bradley had convinced himself that the solution to despair was distraction. Despite the Hobbes' marital discord, he had extended to them the chance to come over and learn the subtle art of archery.

The discipline itself was ancient yet still could supplant the struggles of modern existence. Even without the heft of his bow in his hands, testing the canopy of the netting that would halt the potentially lethal trajectory of errant bolts, despite their blunted heads, or adjusting range markers and targets, in this environment, he was at ease. All that mattered was the present.

He walked back towards the walnut bow and quiver stand. A year ago, it was a summer project, one in which he fully applied his entire effort. From polishing to varnish, to preservation and sealer, he spent as much time crafting it as he did taking care of it. It was a shrine to the first time he was without Addy. That fated semester away, he allowed his idle mind to be stayed by the stand, to resist the temptation that Em had so easily employed against him.

Smiling at the sight of Addy carefully applying wax to the strings of the light recurve bows, Bradley's heavy brown leather boots dug firmly into the soil of the surprising expanse of his backyard as he strode forth. He lightly placed his hand on her shoulder. "Thanks kiddo." She didn't recoil, nor did she fully acknowledge him, she remained as she almost always was, distant without the intention to be. He heard the encroaching jubilant voice of Kourt, in return, a smile pulled at the side of his mouth, at her presence alone.

Bradley opened the gate for the Hobbes. "Hey guys. So glad you could make it. Head on over to the stand and we'll do some demo work." Bradley handed out safety glasses and arm guards to them, affixing his own shooting glove.

Kourt giddily bounced, marveling at the bows and quivers. Dave crossed his arms, scratching his legs with the back of his worn thong sandals, stealing a surprisingly bold glance at Addy before turning to Bradley to speak. "You know, it's only fair next time I take you guys out to the green. Kourt can hit some serious tees, mostly because I taught her. Right babes?"

Kourt nodded, smiling, her lips drawing back to exaggerate her already waning smile. She knew he claimed he had taught her everything, she was now unsure of whatthattruly meant.

Bradley nodded. "Sounds good. I'll show you guys the basics. To start, archery is really just about focus and physics, it's easy to overthink it. It's a sport for a reason and easier to treat it that way." Notching the arrow he began his demonstration in earnest, the strength of his shoulders pulling firm against his shirt, which was already sweated through from the choking humidity. As he released, the bolt soared through the air, punching deep into the wooden target's center ring. "It took me about a year to get to this point. And honestly that last one was luck."

Despite Kourt being focused on Bradley's lesson, Dave couldn't have been less present. He was on his phone, researching boats he could purchase once Kourt finally had another job. Golf, the open waters, and some Dave Matthew's Band, that was the life that he deserved. He looked up at Bradley demonstrating the mechanics of the perfect pull again to Kourt. The way she looked at him, made his blood turn to venom, it was the confirmation he needed that she had already strayed.

No man could simply show a woman how to do something without another motive. It was the first law of attraction. He would know. After all, he had establishedP.M.S, the Primrose Manhood Society, a club with weekly meetings to share lessons on cultivating and maintaining dominance, masculinity, and traditionalism in all facets of life. He was the only member, but he was sure that would change in time once others were exposed to his self declared "radical, adaptive, max-ape mode genius."

He wasn't going to be humiliated however. He could already remember the anger he experienced during Kourt's public breakdown from his admonishment. Dave straightened up, waddled over, picked up a bow, readied an arrow and let it fly. The arrow drove straight into the dirt, yards away from the target, a solemn red shaft drove deep into a field of green. He gripped the bow, his fingers tightening as rage coupled with embarrassment blurred his vision.

It was Bradley's voice that interrupted his spell of anger. "Not bad at all dude. You just needed maybe a bit more pull on your draw and you would have absolutely hit your mark. Great for your first shot. Seriously."

Kourt clapped giddily. "Look at you tiger! Gadzooks! You're so good at this!"

Dave adjusted his foggy glasses triumphantly. Finally attention was back on him. "Yeah, couple more tries and I'd be a pro at this."As he continued with surprising efforts and results, Kourt cheered, to which he offered a smug nod.

Kourt turned to Bradley. "So how did you get into this? Gawsh I don't think I've even seen a bow and arrow before!"

He crossed his arms. "I was looking for something new. I got burnt out with FPV drone stuff. Felt like my day job was bleeding into my hobbies. Someone at Wright's Nutrients posted a flyer for a free course, and I decided to try it out."

Dave retrieved the arrows, being surprisingly careful with them. He called back out over his shoulder. "Pick a thing, and get to be the best at it. That's like me and my gitfiddle. That means guitar by the way."

Bradley nodded, tasting bile as he calmly selected his words. "Yeah, for sure. Anyways, I went to the intro course, and loved it. Had a really weird instructor though."

Kourt kept examining the arrows, feeling the balanced weight in her palm. "Weird how?"

Bradley tested the string of the bow while speaking "Her name was Carlotta, and man she was way too intense."

"Intense?"

"Just got too close to me all the time. Kept telling me stuff like "consider yourself the arrow, piercing what you want" that kind of faux stoicism stuff."

Bradley continued adjusting strings and preparing Kourt and Dave alike to go again. "But it was this dude, Mason, I met maybe six months ago? He made me love archery. Dude was kinda cold, intelligent, still had some heart. Ironically after we got to talking, I found out I was doing drone work for his marine enterprise off the Atlantic."

Kourt tapped her chin with her finger. "Hmmm. Intense huh? Maybe it's the sport? Attracts the type. I mean gawsh, these arrows could kill someone!"

Dave scoffed again. "Yeah. That's kind of what they're meant to do babes."

Kourt nodded in agreement, as her fist began to clench, at his casual dismissal of her. She knew her observation was sensible and valid. Sensing the growing hostility between them, Bradley intervened to get Kourt ready again, going over the mechanics once more.

As the ad-hoc lesson continued, Dave looked over to see Addy sitting on a tree stump, drawing symbols of unknown origins, shapes and sigils that meant something to her, even if she couldn't explain it. As she looked up from her canvas of the earth, through the exposing light of the sun, the outlines of Bradley and Kourt reminded her of the memories of her childhood.

She could recall hazy picnics, trips, and BBQ's. Before she could recall every word Em and Bradley ever said, now, they were all voiceless outlines to her. Specters of a life long gone.

No matter how much they loved her, there was always some wedge between them all, despite her father's unending effort. When she laid her head down at night, and the quiet constant of the fan above her lulled her eyes shut, she felt the same. That it was her fault her parents had the relationship they did. That it was her oddness, her knowing that she wasn't normal, was the reason why her father protected her, and in her greatest moments of despair, why her mother abandoned them. That she wasn't ever wanted.

As she receded further into the past, Dave's hand on her shoulder ripped her to the present. She dropped the stick and stood rapidly, embarrassed of the symbols on the ground wiping them away with her muddied Converse high tops. "Dave. You startled me."

"Just wanted to make you're ok."

"I am. Yes. Very much."

He smiled. "Heh. Well, it's ok if you aren't."

"Thank you. You mean that right?"

"Of course I do."

He recognized this opportunity as Kourt was distracted. Dave whispered to Addy, "Hey, does your dad seem kind of... close to Kourt?"

She looked away, grimacing and staring off towards the retention pond, she couldn't place what had distracted her. With a quick glance back she saw the way Bradley was smiling at Kourt, his closeness, the way his eyes beamed with happiness. Addy seldom sees him like this anymore.

"Good gravy, this is hard!" Kourt struggled to pull the string back. Bradley's hands were careful in their proximity, but his body was close to hers. She cheered wildly after she finally had her first successful release.

Dave grimaced as he observed Kourt's joy, being close to another man that wasn't him. He knew Bradley was doing this intentionally, challenging him for possession of Kourt. He exhaled a forced sigh and lifted his glasses to wipe away tears that weren't there. Upon noticing, Addy stood, lithe and shapeless. Despite her hesitance, she pulled her side cut back over her shoulder, and lightly clasped her hands together, summoning her courage to converse without the safety of a screen. She gritted her teeth, held her breath and forced her eyes to connect with Dave's. "Yes. They are close. But I don't think Bradley means anything by it."

Dave knew he had to sell it. Help her feel like his own fear was hers. Make her see his way. He cleared his throat. "I dunno. Feels like... they're mocking me."

She couldn't maintain eye contact, it was exhausting. Looking down she turned away slightly."They might think that they are friends. Or possibly more."

He nodded. "Thanks Addy for being honest. It sounds silly, but sometimes I feel like you're my only friend. I didn't think I'd be lonely here. Guess you can be lonely anywhere."

She was almost always lonely. She knew she spent too much time playing FF14. But it was the only place she felt valued. Even still, in chat the words of others moved too fast, the references to culture were too difficult for her to process. In the late hours of the night, Dave was there to talk to her. She walked away to try her hand again at archery, attempting to smile back at him.

***

It was close to lunchtime. The bands of heat from the sun languished like long tendrils that caused everyone below to perspire. Bradley wiped his brow with the back of his forearm and began to head towards the porch."I'll get everyone some water."

Dave shook his head. "No need. I got this." He went into the Driscoll home, surprised at the lack of decor in the foyer. There was a wall of photos. One that stood out was Bradley and Addy when she coached her first game. His arm around her shoulder, her giving the peace sign without a smile.

Next to it was a mounted shadow box, inside was a folded Coast Guard flag, next to it a displayed rank with red chevron, an annotation below that read "Operations Specialist Third Class". A photo of him at USCG Sector Miami, with his team in front of the ship "Valiant". A laminated certificate that read "SAR Planner" and a pair of challenge coins for commendations.

Dave shook his head. "Pathetic. Not a NAVY Seal? Then you're a certified beta bitch."

A quick glimpse into the room at the end of the hallway let him know it had to be Addy's. He stealthily moved towards it, doing his best to not track any dirt with his steps. He had already formulated an excuse if he was caught. He was merely "looking for the bathroom". He entered. Hung on the wall in an old battered frame, was a vintage Little Mermaid poster, symmetrically placed to the side was an old photo of her with her parents at Disney. There was a simple hamper next to her bed, alongside a minimalist metal nightstand with rows of medication bottles lined up perfectly next to a daily organizer.

He took a glance at their labels, Escitalopram, Busiprone, and Melatonin. He didn't recognize them, and didn't need to, he just had to write down their names, it would be easier that way to convince her they had even more in common. The organizer held even more knowledge for him to absorb. Her routines. When she went to therapy. An affirmation log, most of which were focused on her appearance.

Sensing the limits of his time, he hurried to her hamper, and retrieved a pair of panties. They were plain, colored black, he held them up to his nose and inhaled, drinking deeply of their scent which he found to be sweet. He placed them carefully back where they were, and left quickly, grabbing four water bottles from the refrigerator on the way out.

As the water bottles were distributed, Kourt went to spend time with Adelaide, asking her questions about her business, and making small talk. Bradley smiled as he watched, it was clear how easily Kourt spoke to Adelaide, by being radically sincere.

His trance was ruined by Dave's voice. "So to celebrate moving to Primrose, we took a trip to Cabo. I planned everything, Kourt said she needed my help because she was busy at work. I had it on lock."

"That's cool man. How was the trip?"

"So I know a lot about Meh-Hi-Co. And at the hotel, I knew the cartel members when I saw them. They don't even bother hiding down there. Kourt didn't even know till I pointed them out."

Bradley nodded, concealing a sigh as he rubbed his scruff, wishing that maybe the cosmos would be merciful and Dave would be decapitated by a meteorite. "Really? Just out in the open?"

"Yeah. These guys would come up, speaking to Kourt, trying to be all Don Juan, so I had to get a little tough. So I gave themthe look."

"Oh? What's thelookdude?"

"Let me show you." Dave turned to Bradley and scrunched his face up, as if he was trying to suck plaster through a straw, his eyes narrowed and he puffed out his round chest. He grinned as he returned to normal."That's what keeps those guys at bay. They know I mean business. It keeps my babes safe."

Brad nodded as he continued to form patties, his second hand embarrassment reaching a zenith he didn't even think possible. Yet he would remain polite, thinking that there had to be something good about Dave, deep down, unseen, maybe only understood by Kourt. Although he doubted it with every passing second. He sighed. "That's good dude that you protect her. I'm sure she appreciates it."

"Kourt doesn't get it sometimes. That's why she needs me, we're a team, but when it comes to therealworld, I'm her guide."

"Right." Bradley increased the heat of the grill.

"So, I know a lot about those cartel guys. Selling Jenkem. They might even be selling it here."

"Jenkem? What's that?"

Dave scoffed. "Fermented sewage. Sometimes human shit.Theyput it in a plastic bag. Huff it. Gets em high. Big with the cartel hombres. Comes from well, you know...Africa."

Bradley couldn't help but raise his eyebrow. Everything Dave said enraged him. He did his best to ignore whatever Dave said next, focusing on cooking instead. Ensuring that Kourt's burger was cooked exactly to her wishes, he wasn't doing it to be courteous. He wanted to impress her. He didn't want her approval, just wanted to show he listened and cared for her. More than he could admit.

Eventually they ate lunch together, making idle talk. Kourt felt her stomach tense whenever she caught Bradley smiling, or telling stories about his time in Primrose. Whenever he spoke about Addy, Kourt realized she had never seen a man act as she imagined a father should. Retreating back into her own life, she couldn't recall her father ever saying he loved her at all, nor sharing pride at her accomplishments.

When Bradley tidied up and took everyone's plates, Kourt followed suit, realizing that outside of a restaurant she had never seen another man dare to clean up after a meal. Dave had told her numerous times that "it was below him", her own father said the same. Dave reinforced it by telling her it was "natural order". Entertaining the phrase made her eyes twitch again and her fists clench.

After another round of archery, Bradley invited them all back inside for cocktails, a perfect end to the afternoon. As Bradley fixed drinks, Kourt looked at the wall and observed the carefully arranged photos. One of them was of Bradley holding Addy when they came back from the hospital, his clean shaven face beaming with pride, another of him and Em on their wedding day. Kourt was convinced she had never seen a woman more beautiful in her life. She was simply radiance incarnate, the likes of which caused Kourt immense sorrow to see, knowing she could never be like her.

Thinking back to her own wedding day, she could barely remember her dress, struggling to recall if it had been borrowed or bought. Only knowing that it was ill fitting, not even purely white, instead, tarnished and blemished with time and a lack of care.

She didn't have a bridesmaid, her father refused to walk her down the aisle. The only one who cried that day was Robyn. Kourt knew there were photos somewhere. Yet, she never displayed them. Dave never asked why.

The venue in the photo of Em and Bradley's wedding was stunning. All Kourt could remember of her own wedding was the specific vows of marriage and servitude delivered in the same small church in the same dead town by the same small lecherous pastor who idly licked his lips at her for years, all culminating to wed her to Dave Hobbes.

She realized as they departed that not every life was like hers, not every man was like Dave.

***

The next day, after another long walk under a gloomy sky which heralded rain, Kourt had returned home in an absentminded state. The house she once adored felt less like a sanctuary and more like a tomb. What she saw as flawless construction was just well hidden imperfections by contractors who were paid too little for far too much work. The walls she noticed were unusually thin. The faucets were loose. Certain parts of the home were different in temperature, which only added to her mounting discomfort. The shower had terrible water pressure. The hinges on doors across the home were already loose. The other day she opened the medicine cabinet and found a strange geometric symbol in faint gold powder drawn there, she swore it whispered to her, but decided it was just a ductwork problem before she cleaned it off.

Despite the now apparent fraudulence of their community and home, she wasn't ready to give up. She had vowed that once she was working again, she wouldn't just make the changes necessary for the home, she would make ithers. Yet, it wasn't just her homestead that needed nurturing, she knew her marriage did as well.

Even though Kourt felt something resembling guilt about her feelings for Bradley, she was still married to Dave. She still... cared about him. She had to make this work, she had sworn vows, promised her family, made a commitment to God and her husband.

As she reached for her phone, and began to type a sultry text to Dave, she remembered, she truly didn't have a family. He hadn't tried to honor a commitment to her. He didn't want to know her, feel her. He didn't want bundles of joy like she did. She had wondered if it was always this way. She felt an enormous sadness recollecting the last ten years of her life first which were formless memories, and now was a labyrinth of regret. She could imagine herself, lost within the corridors of that maze of delusion, every word that he said to her, was another edifice of lies.