She hugged me tightly for a minute, and then I got on the plane, and she was gone.
It's a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port
Angeles, and then an hour drive back down to Forks. Flying doesn't bother me; the hour
in the car with Charlie, though, I was a little worried about.
Charlie had really been fairly nice about the whole thing. He seemed genuinely pleased
that I was coming to live with him for the first time with any degree of permanence. He'd
already gotten me registered for high school and was going to help me get a car.
But it was sure to be awkward with Charlie. Neither of us was what anyone would call
verbose, and I didn't know what there was to say regardless. I knew he was more than a
little confused by my decision — like my mother before me, I hadn't made a secret of my
distaste for Forks.
When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I didn't see it as an omen — just
unavoidable. I'd already said my goodbyes to the sun.
Charlie was waiting for me with the cruiser. This I was expecting, too. Charlie is Police
Chief Swan to the good people of Forks. My primary motivation behind buying a car,
despite the scarcity of my funds, was that I refused to be driven around town in a car with
red and blue lights on top. Nothing slows down traffic like a cop.
Charlie gave me an awkward, one-armed hug when I stumbled my way off the plane.
"It's good to see you, Bells," he said, smiling as he automatically caught and steadied me.
"You haven't changed much. How's Renée?"
"Mom's fine. It's good to see you, too, Dad." I wasn't allowed to call him Charlie to his
face.
I had only a few bags. Most of my Arizona clothes were too permeable for Washington.
My mom and I had pooled our resources to supplement my winter wardrobe, but it was
still scanty. It all fit easily into the trunk of the cruiser.
"I found a good car for you, really cheap," he announced when we were strapped in.
"What kind of car?" I was suspicious of the way he said "good car for you" as opposed to
just "good car."
"Well, it's a truck actually, a Chevy."
"Where did you find it?"
"Do you remember Billy Black down at La Push?" La Push is the tiny Indian reservation
on the coast.
"No."
"He used to go fishing with us during the summer," Charlie prompted.
That would explain why I didn't remember him. I do a good job of blocking painful,
unnecessary things from my memory.
"He's in a wheelchair now," Charlie continued when I didn't respond, "so he can't drive
anymore, and he offered to sell me his truck cheap."
"What year is it?" I could see from his change of expression that this was the question he
was hoping I wouldn't ask.
"Well, Billy's done a lot of work on the engine — it's only a few years old, really."
I hoped he didn't think so little of me as to believe I would give up that easily. "When did
he buy it?"
"He bought it in 1984, I think."
"Did he buy it new?"
"Well, no. I think it was new in the early sixties — or late fifties at the earliest," he
admitted sheepishly.
"Ch — Dad, I don't really know anything about cars. I wouldn't be able to fix it if
anything went wrong, and I couldn't afford a mechanic…"
"Really, Bella, the thing runs great. They don't build them like that anymore."
The thing, I thought to myself… it had possibilities — as a nickname, at the very least.
"How cheap is cheap?" After all, that was the part I couldn't compromise on.
"Well, honey, I kind of already bought it for you. As a homecoming gift." Charlie peeked
sideways at me with a hopeful expression.
Wow. Free.
"You didn't need to do that, Dad. I was going to buy myself a car."
"I don't mind. I want you to be happy here." He was looking ahead at the road when he
said this. Charlie wasn't comfortable with expressing his emotions out loud. I inherited
that from him. So I was looking straight ahead as I responded.
"That's really nice, Dad. Thanks. I really appreciate it." No need to add that my being
happy in Forks is an impossibility. He didn't need to suffer along with me. And I never
looked a free truck in the mouth — or engine.
"Well, now, you're welcome," he mumbled, embarrassed by my thanks.
We exchanged a few more comments on the weather, which was wet, and that was pretty
much it for conversation. We stared out the windows in silence.