Thunder strikes hard as she looks above at the blackened sky. She looks at Tara’s silver casket. The rain is falling so hard that mud begins to slide aside the casket.
Cindy wears a crucifix around her neck. She looks at it, then looks at the clouds moving ahead. She asked god why her friend is gone. Then starts to panic. Her heart begins to beat and goosebumps cover her body. The air around her feels like a freezer. She has trouble breathing. She looks around the funeral site and sees nobody there. The cars are gone, and everything around her turns black. Feelings of dread and guilt fill her mid. Tara holds a bouquet of flowers, then looks above at the thunder strikes. It makes her jump. Cindy looks at the casket.
“I’m sorry, Tara,” she says. Cindy stands over the gravesite and stretches out her shaking hands. She drops the flowers on the casket, then lowers her head and begins crying. Lightning hits a tree in front of Cindy. Tara’s casket opens forcefully, unnaturally, as if someone threw it open. Tara stands up on the casket, points her finger, and yells at Cindy. Tara is wearing a white dress, heavy makeup, haired pulled back in bun. Her eyes are dead white, zombie-like, reminding Cindy of the movie ‘The Exorcist.’ Tara’s voice is muffled; it cannot be heard be heard over the clattering thunder. Tara continues to point and shake her index finger at Cindy. Cindy tries to listen. Still, Tara’s voice is muffled. Cindy’s heart feels as if it’s going to explode. Her head is pulsing, her ribcage feels as if someone is pushing on it. Tara looks at Cindy and begins laughing. Cindy places her hands over her ears and screams.
Cindy sits upright from her bed screaming. Her face is covered in sweat. She sees herself in the mirror over the dresser. She gasps for air, as she looks over her bedroom. Her ribs feel sore and her legs ache. Her tongue is swollen and mouth dry. The branch outside the window is now knocking on the windowpane. The clown on her chair now wears a big evil grin. Cindy reaches over and quickly turns on her lamp. She lays back down and turns to her right. Tara is now lying next to her. Cindy tries screaming but cannot. She is paralyzed by fear, heart almost stops. Tara takes her left index finger, places it over her lips, and jesters silence.
Cindy wakes up this time for real. She doesn’t scream as she can barely breathe. Her pajamas are drenched in sweat. Puddle of sweat forms above her thorax. The back and sides of her hair are drenched in sweat. The wind is now howling outside, as the tree branch taps on her window-pane. Cindy gets up quickly out of bed and turns on the light. The candle is melted down. Everything else is in place. She looks at the bed; Tara isn’t there. She removes the covers quickly just to make sure. Relieved it’s all a dream, she stands in the middle of her bedroom and begins praying. She remembers First Corinthians and does her best to improvise. She rebukes the demons that try taking refuge in her home in Christ’s name. She prays for Tara; she prays for her mother. She prays for her parents and everything else that comes to her mind in Christ’s name. After Cindy finishes mumbling her prayer, she grabs the Angel Ouija from under her bed. She wraps the board in a towel, opens the closet door, then places it atop the shelf. Cindy turns away from the closet and runs into bed. She looks at the closet, lightning strikes, as the Ouija board falls from the closet, almost in a floating motion, landing center of her bedroom.
Cindy yelps out, “What the hell?” Cindy picks up the Angel Ouija and looks it over.
“So, you want to play tough, right? I will show you who’s in charge! You can’t mess with me, my friends, or my family. I’m in charge here. Are you listening? I’m in charge and always will be!”
Cindy places the Angel Ouija in her study drawer and locks it with a key. Now satisfied, she looks at the desk, smiles, and heads back to bed. She lays on her side staring at the study drawer. “You’ll see who’ll win, asshole,” She says aloud to herself.
There is an eerie silence that now fills the room. The wind has now stopped. No more rain, no more annoying tree branch. No evil grin on the clown’s face. Cindy will not sleep the rest of the night. She stares at her study desk the rest of the night. She stares wide-eyed. She thinks she hears the long nail of a finger, scratching the study dresser drawer. An evil hand trying to escape and fulfill its destiny.
Chapter Eleven
Morning finally came for Cindy. She lays in her bed wide-eyed, wearing the same expression as last night. She stares at her study desk drawer, then looks at her bedroom door. It’s halfway open. She didn’t sleep or did she? she thinks. All she remembers is the people she saw, and the voices she heard. How the heck did someone come in here? Cindy hears Frank yelling downstairs.
“Damn it, boy, where were you all night? I thought I said no more. What part of no more don’t you understand?”
Steven stands there not saying a word. He looks at Frank with a grin on his face.
“Wipe that fuckin grin off your face before I smack it off!” exclaims Frank.
Steven walks a few steps backwards for a second. Grandma walks out of her bedroom and starts yelling at Frank in her native tongue. Cindy gets out of bed, peeks out her bedroom door.
“Oh shit, here we go again,” she says aloud to herself. Cindy walks towards her mother’s bedroom and slowly opens the door. She’s out cold. Cindy observes a half drank glass of red wine and bottle of pills on her nightstand. She sighs, then walks towards the stairway. She wants to help Steven but can’t. Frank can be violent at times, and last time he grounded her for two weeks. Frank takes two steps closer towards Steven.
“You better speak up, son, or we’re going out back!”
Kelly walks downstairs wearing a long, oversized UC San Diego t-shirt. She walks quickly towards the kitchen and pours a cup of coffee.
“Hi, Grandma, how’s it going? Another morning fight right, Grandma?”
“Your father is the devil. Always fighting, always drinking. And lazy. He pays Mexico people to take care of the yard.”
“Grandma, please shut it. No one asked for your opinion,” says Frank.
Kelly sits down at the table and grins. She takes a sip of her coffee and sighs with satisfaction. Kelly tries to lighten up the situation. “So, what does our wonderful family have planned for today?” Kelly starts to laugh as Grandma turns her head and pfftt-pfftts Kelly. Frank remains fixated on Steven. He looks as if he’s ready to punch him. He’s done it before, and it always ends in the same horror.
“Guys. come on now. This crud is still going on. I came home from school to visit. Not watch boxing. Give it a break,” says Kelly.
“The only thing that’s going to break is this shithead’s here face,” replies Frank.
“Dad thinks I’m never home, Kelly, but I am. He just doesn’t see me. Every time I get home after Kim’s, Dad’s passed out on the couch, snoring, with TV on,”
Frank gives Steven a backhand. The slap could be heard throughout the house. Steven doesn’t nudge, he tightens his fist and stares at Frank.
“Whoa, slow down here. Dad, did you ever think about asking Mom or Grandma? If you’re sleeping, how in the hell you know if he’s in or not?” says Kelly.
“Stay out of this, Kelly,” replies Frank.
“Dad. let it go for now. All I’m saying is relax. Talk to Mom.”
“Shut up, Kelly!” Frank says agitatedly. Kelly places her hands on her head, then shakes her head in disapproval.
Kelly finds her way back towards the kitchen slowly. She grabs a plate, shovels some scrambled eggs, and grabs a few pieces of bacon. Steven and Frank continue to argue as Linda walks down the stairs. She enters the dining area, hair a mess, black eye-liner running, she’s been doped up on pills most of the night.
“Welcome to the Walbreck morning fight show, mom.”
“Frank, stop it. What is your problem?!” she yells.
“Problem? Like you know what’s going on around here. Grandma, or shall I say your Russian slave, has been making breakfast and doing laundry all morning,” states Frank. Frank is still high from last night’s booze. He slurs as he talks. Kelly interrupts.
“Dad, Grand
ma is from Estonia Not Russia. It’s a different county.”
“Like there’s a difference.” Slurs Frank. “Estonia, Russia, Latvia. Who cares, there all fuckin Communist.” Kelly and Cindy look at each other eyes widened. They both try not to laugh.
“Frank, you know I’ve been having migraines. I heard Steven come in around 1:30 am.” Linda uses a calm and soothing tone. A tone only Frank would respond too. Frank looks at Linda then smirks. “Frank, you were passed out in your chair again. You expect our son to wake you?” says Linda.
“Bull pucky!” replies Frank. I never pass out."
“A burglar wouldn’t have woken you last night,” says Linda. Frank, honey relax, your favorite daughter is here visiting."
“Great, Linda, disrespect me in front of my son, our daughter. Just like you always do. I can’t get any support from you,” replies Frank.
“Frank. Disrespect? For heaven sake, disrespect? Do not go there with me, right now. Not this morning. Not now,” says Linda."
Kelly in observance shakes her head in disbelief. She assesses the situation, makes a mental note, and already knows how to make things better later.
“Don’t lie to me, Linda. I didn’t fall asleep—I.” Frank, sways a bit, then hold his head. “Man, I need a beer.”
Linda interrupts Frank, “You were stoned off your ass, honey.”
“Linda, Linda, Linda. Let me finish. That shithead didn’t get home until his morning.”You know what, screw it. Fuck it. I don’t care anymore. Let’s all do what we want. Let’s never come home, stay out all night— “Now hears this. Drink whenever we want, eat whenever we want. Never clean our rooms and never come home. Family means nothing to me. You know what. I’m going to have a drink right now. Fuck everything. Yum, Yum, Yummy, I like whisky, in my tummy; especially at 10:00 in the morning. After this, I’m going to Paddy Murphy’s, heading for some fish and chips, watch football.” Frank speaks sarcastically as he pours a glass of whisky in the wet bar.
Frank grabs his car keys and heads towards the garage. Linda tries to stop him. Frank gently shoves Linda aside.
“Don’t shove Mom,” says Steven.
Frank take his whisky glass and throws it at Steve. “You want a piece of me. If so, yard, now.”
Steven doesn’t look at Frank. Steven doesn’t say a word. He knows Frank can beat him until he’s in a coma.
The house is deathly quiet now. Cindy, Linda, Grandma and Kelly all sit. They stare and listen. A sowing needle could be heard dropping on the carpet. Listen is all I do for now.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, little shit. Big man won’t stand toe to toe.” Frank walks back to Steven and punches him in the stomach. Steven falls to the floor immediately.
“What did you say? What did you say, little shit!” Frank yells.
“You monster!” screams Linda. “Get out, get out of this house, Frank. How dare you hit your son? Don’t come back.”
“Fine, I’ll just live in a hotel for a while. Frank looks at Linda and antagonizes her.”Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah."
Linda places her hands in her eyes and begins to cry. She turns away from Frank and runs upstairs. Back to her pills, back to her wine. Back to her love novels, back to sanctuary. Cindy looks at Cindy, so mortified, she can barely speak.
Cindy doesn’t say a word as Linda slams her bedroom door. She looks at Kelly and shakes her head as Frank goes on a tirade. Kelly looks at Grandma in total amazement. Grandma looks at Frank like she’s watching ’General Hospital." One of her favorites.
“I work my ass off and no respect. Fuckin’ shits are ungrateful. I should sell this fuckin’ place; buy a condo. Get the hell out of this.” Frank gathers his thoughts for a moment and changes his tone as he looks at Steven.
“And you, son. This was the last time. What the fuck are you still doing here? Get the hell out of my house. This was the last time you disrespect me. And don’t return.”
Steven looks up at his father. His eyes are gleaming with hatred. He thinks of taking a knife from the dining table and stabbing Frank.
“Yeah, ok, you got it. I’m gone. Remember this, Dad, this is the last time you’ll ever see me. And remember this, if I find you ever hit Mom, ever touch her, I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”
“Have a nice life, kiddo,” replies Frank as he salutes him. “The Camaro will be mine soon. Time for you to get your own car Mr. Cool. A job, a life. There’s no such town called Loserville.”
Steven sits in his Camaro and fires up the engine. ‘Motley Crüe’s Too Fast for Love.’ blares from the CD deck.
“Steven, wait a second!” yells Kelly.
Steven doesn’t wait for her. He slams his car in gear, spins the rear differential into oblivion. He donuts around the end of the cul-de-sac then vanishes in a river of smoke. Frank walks out of the garage. He opens the door to his Mercedes CL 600.
“Dad, what’s going on?” asks Kelly.
“Watching the game.”
“Dad, we were supposed to talk about some sort of problem. Remember, this is the reason I drove here.”
“The problem is, sweetie, that things never change. People never change. Remember that before you choose your husband.”
Frank slams the Mercedes in gear and the big V8 roars out of the driveway, and out of sight in seconds.
“Dad!” yells Kelly. “Well, this is great. Fuckin’ perfect. I come here to relax and this shit? What next, a fire?” Kelly exclaims to herself.
Kelly walks in the house and sees Grandma, Cindy, and Matthew sitting at the dining area table.
“Hi, Grandma,” says Kelly. Grandma smiles. She secretly always enjoyed family arguments and chaos. It reminds her of the homeland. Kelly’s always admired Grandma’s strength and personality. After all, what kind of woman survives both World Wars. Kelly sits down, takes her coffee cup, and takes a drink. “Grandma, is it like this all the time?” asks Kelly.
Grandma tries to reply in her best English. Her accent is heavy and energetic. “Your father is no good. He stays out late. Always yelling at your mother. Always drinking. I think he has a woman. An evil woman from his work. She’s trying to destroy this family.”
“No, Grandma, stop it. Not true,” says Kelly. Matthew and Cindy start giggling.
“It’s true, I know, I know everything. I also know what you kids do behind closed doors,” says Grandma.
Kelly laughs aloud. Grandma is so negative all the time. She’s never liked Frank and the kids know this. Never did and never will. Kelly regains her composure. Then she wipes the tears from her eyes from laughing.
“I miss you, Grandma. Shit,” says Kelly. “Oh, that’s funny. Grandma, I don’t think Dad has a girlfriend.”
“You’ll see. I know, I know everything. Laugh now, hee, hee hee, cry later. You all will see,” replies Grandma. “I know everything about this family, and everything everyone does.”I know everything about the devil children that sleep here. Why do they sleep here? Do they not have beds in their own home?"
Cindy and Matthew keep giggling as they shuffle their food on their plates. Grandma stands from the table and with the guidance of her cane, shuffles off her bedroom.
“I go knit now,” says Grandma.
“Ok, Grannie, see you later,” says Cindy.
Grandma closes her door and locks it. The three kids look at each other and smile.
“Holy shit.” Kelly says. It is this entertaining all the time?"
“Yep.” Says Cindy.
“You got it.” Replies Matthew. "I usually lock myself upstairs, play ‘Mike Tyson Punch Out, Or Tecmo-Bowl.’
“You know, guys, I miss you all very much. There isn’t a day that goes by, I don’t think of you both.”
“Then why don’t you answer my calls all the time? I call sometimes three, four times a day,” asks Cindy.
“Look, guys, I get really busy at school. I have work, deadlines. When you get older, you’ll both know what it’s like, being an adult.”
“You don�
�t know what it’s like here lately,” says Matthew.
“Pretty bad?” ask Kelly. Cindy and Matthew nod yes in unison.
“They’ve been arguing more than usual. And the cursing. I must say, even I’m shocked,” replies Cindy.
“Hey, I got a great idea. Let’s get out of here for the day. Have some lunch, drive by the ocean. You both always loved that. Sounds good?” asks Kelly.
“Yeah, sounds cool!” replies Cindy.
“We could use a change of scenery,” says Matthew.
“Yeah, I’m up for a change also. I’m leaving in five minutes. If you want to follow, get your butts in gear,” Kelly says excitedly.
Matthew and Cindy run upstairs. The pitter-patter of their feet reminds Kelly of better times. Times when she didn’t feel despair and aguish. Times when Mom and Dad were not arguing. Kelly looks at her coffee mug reading Blackhawk Police Department. She finishes her coffee and sighs. Suddenly she feels ill. Her stomach starts cramping and the hairs behind her neck begin tingling. Her back muscles begin to tighten. Kelly looks over her right shoulder towards the kitchen and door that leads to the formal dining area. The door begins to shut slowly by itself. Kelly stays fixated on the door as it shuts and makes a clicking noise. Kelly will not say a word to anyone. She never does.
Kelly sits in the driver seat of her BMW 325IS. Cindy won the front seat by beating Matthew at rock, papers, scissors. Matthew frowns in the back. Kelly brings down the top of the BMW and revs the engine a few times. She puts on her Chanel glasses and looks herself over in the vanity mirror.
“Ok, you two. Since breakfast was shit, we’re going to have a good lunch. Seal Beach. Harbor House Café sound good?” says Kelly.
“Yeah, a burger sounds good. And turn up the music!” exclaims Matthew.
The First Culling Page 12
