Sleep Savannah Sleep

by Alistair Cross

  Coop stared at his hands. “Marlee has a daughter, Rachel. From an earlier marriage.” He spoke low. “Rumor has it that Travis has a thing for the girl.”

  “A thing? How old is she?”

  “Twelve now, but this has been going on for years. Social Services has been over there a few times, but I guess they never found anything. I don’t know how it works, but either way, Rachel’s still there and the rumors are going strong.”

  “Do you believe them?”

  Coop shrugged his eternally-tense shoulders. “I’m not big on gossip, but in my experience, where there’s smoke, there’s fire. If you’re asking if I think he’s capable, yes, I do.” He stared over Jason’s shoulder and his eye began to twitch. “Speak of the devil.”

  Jason turned.

  Travis Delgado, flanked by two other men, entered The Devil’s Triangle, his eyes immediately homing in on Jason.

  He felt his bowels turn to water. “Shit,” he said, fearing he might very well do just that.

  Travis hulked through the crowd, shoving people aside as if they were weeds in an overgrown field. “You!” He pointed at Jason.

  Before Jason could get to his feet, Travis had him by the collar, lifting him out of the chair one-armed, as if hefting a gallon of milk. “I warned you! I warned you to stay away from her!” Panicked, Jason tried clawing the man’s hand away, but it was useless. Travis dragged him toward a pool table and slammed him onto it with a thump! Jason’s head bounced off the felt tabletop and his jaws clicked together hard and painfully.

  A woman screamed.

  Travis’ face invaded Jason’s vision. “You fucking pervert.” He spoke in that eerily low, malignant tone. “I told you to keep your hands off my-”

  Jason shoved him away with surprising force and hopped off the pool table onto his feet.

  Travis staggered back, stunned, then he charged like an angry bull. “Fucking pervert!”

  They collided, crashed back onto the pool table, Travis on top of him. Jason socked the guy up the side of the head then kicked him in the stomach using all the strength he had. It was like kicking a brick wall.

  Travis stumbled back and bent over. “Motherfucker!”

  Aside from the sounds of his own breathing, the joint had gone silent. Even the jukebox didn’t make a sound. Jason was obliquely aware that everyone was staring, shocked.

  Breathing hard, Travis slowly righted himself and pinned Jason in a hateful, seething stare, then came at him fast.

  Jason tried to lunge, but it was too late. Travis’ massive fist slammed right into his eye.

  The world flashed white. Hot pain exploded and Jason fell off the table and hit the floor like a sack of cement.

  And all at once, the place came to chaotic life.

  He heard a clamor of footsteps, a chorus of shouting voices, and a scuffle as several men dragged Travis Delgado out of the bar.

  “You’re a dead man!” screamed Travis. “A DEAD MAN!”

  And Jason felt like that very thing. He groaned, swallowed blood, rolled himself over, and slowly, painfully, got to his feet. His eye throbbed where Travis’ fist had hit him; the pain spread outward until it felt like he’d dipped his entire head into a volcano.

  Jason crept into the house, but there was no sense trying to hide.

  Brent was on the couch, watching The Walking Dead, and when he looked up, his eyes grew cartoonishly large. “Dad! What happened?”

  Jason held a makeshift bandanna ice pack from Hallie Bessner over his already-swelling eye. “I, uh, got into a scuffle,” Jason said, embarrassed.

  “A fight? No way!” Brent stood, his eyes sparkling with what appeared to be admiration.

  So, this is what it takes to get his respect? Getting my face smashed in?

  “Did you kick his ass?”

  “Hey. Watch your mouth.”

  “Did you kick his butt?”

  “I think it’s pretty clear who got whose butt kicked, Brent.” When Jason saw his son’s disappointment, he added, “Not that I didn’t get some good punches in,” and grinned. It hurt to smile.

  “Where did you hit him? In the face? Was there blood?”

  Jason hesitated. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t know.”

  Brent moved to the window and stared out. “You drove yourself home?”

  “It was no easy feat, but I managed.”

  “Did you call the police?”

  “Well, no. I didn’t have to,” explained Jason. “The bar called them for me. And I threw the first punch. So …”

  “You did?”

  “Well, yes, but he came after me.”

  “Did you get in trouble? Legal trouble?” Brent seemed tickled by the idea.

  Jason’s irritation leapt inside him like an angry, sharp-toothed piranha. “No, but they’re going to eighty-six the other guy from the bar. They’ve had trouble with him before, I guess. Look, I really need to get to bed. My head feels like it’s splitting down the middle.”

  “So why did he come at you? Was it about a woman? It’s almost always about a woman.”

  Jason shook his head. “No, nothing like that.” It was kind of true, anyway. “It doesn’t matter. This is the kind of thing you can expect when people start drinking. That’s why I’m always telling you to keep away from it. It’s nasty stuff.”

  Brent rolled his eyes. “I know, I know.”

  “Go to bed, Brent. It’s late.” Jason started up the stairs.

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah.” Just stop talking. Please stop talking.

  “Can I go out tomorrow night? I know I was late with the car earlier, but it wasn’t my fault.” He spoke fast, jumping quickly to avoid having to explain. “I met this kid, Liam - Liam Sturgess. Anyway, he wants to show me where he goes fishing and-”

  “Sturgess? As in Savannah Sturgess?”

  “Um, yeah. That’s his sister - the same one that was here the other day. Anyway, if I could have the car tomorrow, we could-”

  “I want you to stay away from Savannah Sturgess.” If there was any truth at all to her reputation - and Jason thought there was - Savannah would be all over Brent in a New York minute.

  Brent sighed. “I’m not talking about Savannah Sturgess, Dad. Why would I want to hang out with her? I’m talking about her brother, Liam.”

  “I know, but I mean it. Stay away from her. She’s trouble.”

  “Whatever you say, Dad. Anyway, can I take the car tomorrow?”

  “I don’t know, Brent. You abused the rules today. I don’t see any reason to reward you for that, do you?”

  Brent’s eyes hardened but he said nothing.

  “We’ll talk about it later.”

  “Fine.”

  Jason could feel Brent’s eyes digging little holes into him as he headed up the stairs.

  5

  Overture

  As the days quietly passed, Jason got the house put together, acquired a few more clients, and his eye - though black as the Great Plague - was beginning to heal. Perhaps best of all, he’d neither seen nor heard from Travis or Marlee Delgado.

  Brent and Amber had started school and Amber had a new friend named Stevie Rose who now dominated her conversations. Even Brent was getting along, spending a good deal of time with Liam Sturgess who, from what he’d told Jason, wasn’t anything like his sister, Savannah. Brent was out with him now, doing some fishing in Shadow Creek, which apparently, was what the local kids did for fun. Jason wondered if by “fishing,” they meant skinny-dipping and cigarette-smoking, but at this point, if Brent was happy, he was happy - so long as the boy wasn’t getting into any real trouble.

  One of the first things Jason had done after the moving vans had arrived was set up his favorite leather chair. The recliner was creaky and old, but he’d had it since his college days and knew he wouldn’t toss it out until the damned thing fell to pieces. He sat in it now, reading a horror novel he’d selected from the bookcases he’d set up in his bedroom.

  He paused to lo
ok at the clock. It was six-thirty in the evening and Brent was due home at seven. He’d been pretty good about being on time since the incident last week, so Jason wasn’t worried about it.

  “Daddy?” Amber sat on the floor, gently brushing Ruby’s corkscrew curls.

  “Yeah, sweetheart?”

  “Will you practice braiding my hair again?”

  Jason looked up from his book. Dread settled into his heart. Never was it more apparent that Amber needed a mother-figure than when he attempted such things as braids. “Right now?”

  Amber nodded. “I want to have braids tomorrow. Stevie Rose has braids and she said we should match.”

  The pressure was on, but Jason wouldn’t let her see him sweat. “Go get your hair bands and brush and I’ll do my best.”

  “Okay!” Amber jumped up and took off at a run.

  “But Amber?”

  “Yes, Daddy?”

  “Don’t get your hopes up, okay? I’ll try really hard, but I’m not very good at it.”

  Amber smiled. “That’s not true. You’re good at everything, Daddy.”

  If only. While Amber gathered the brush and hair ties, Jason opened his laptop and went to YouTube and searched for a step-by-step tutorial on braiding - there were endless videos to choose from, and he settled on one that featured a girl no more than ten years old, thinking that if she had cracked the code, he probably could, too.

  Amber returned with brushes, combs, hair ties, and a handheld mirror. She sat on the floor in front of Jason, squirming with excitement - which only added to Jason’s anxiety.

  He played the video and began brushing her hair, separating it into three sections as instructed - but the moment the little girl on YouTube started crossing sections of hair, Jason was lost. “Son of a bitch.”

  Amber giggled. “You said a bad word, Daddy.”

  “Yes, I did.” Jason started the video over and began re-brushing, placing the small hair tie in his mouth for quick access in case he got it right and needed to hurry and seal the deal. He was all thumbs but finally, he finished one side. It wasn’t pretty. He sighed, restarted the video, and went to work on the other half of her hair.

  Despite the frustration of his task, Jason was happy. The fire was blazing, the house was complete, and his daughter thought he could do no wrong. It’s a pretty good life, really. The only thing missing was Julia. He glanced at her picture on the mantle. I think moving to Shadow Springs was a good idea after all. You would have liked it here.

  Nearly ten minutes later, Jason was finished and began twisting a tiny band at the end of his daughter’s second braid. He spun her around, inspecting her - and grimaced. The braids were crooked and sloppy, loose strands flying free - but it was as good as it was going to get. “There. All done.”

  “That was fast!”

  It hadn’t been fast at all, but Jason allowed her to think so.

  “Can I see?”

  “You sure can.” He braced himself for her disappointment as she held the hand mirror up and studied her reflection.

  She squealed in delight. “It’s perfect, Daddy!”

  Jason laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far but maybe with a little more practice, I’ll get better at it.” He’d have to get up early and try again tomorrow; there was no way he was sending his daughter to school with that mess on her head - especially after a night of sleeping on it.

  As Amber admired her hair, Jason heard the front door open and, after a fair amount of fumbling, Brent entered the living room, looking oddly disoriented.

  Amber ran toward her brother. “Look, Brent! Isn’t it pretty?” She twirled so he could see her from all angles. “Daddy said he couldn’t give me braids, but he did! I knew he could! Now Stevie Rose and me can match tomorrow!”

  Brent looked down at his sister as if just now realizing she’d been speaking, and as he stared, his mouth curved into a giant smile. His chuckles turned into guffaws, and then he doubled over in roaring, almost hysterical laughter. “What the hell happened to your head?”

  Amber’s face fell. Her bottom lip quivered before she burst into tears and ran up the stairs.

  Jason was on his feet. “What’s gotten into you, Brent?”

  Brent tried to speak through a string of high, mad giggles. “It’s just … her hair! Did you see-”

  “Look at me, Brent.”

  And when he did, Jason knew what was going on - the dazed, glassy eyes gave him away.

  Brent tried to be serious but broke into more laughter.

  Jason crossed his arms. “Where did you get it?”

  “Huh?” The smile flickered out.

  “You’re stoned. I want to know where you got it.”

  “Stoned?” He blinked. “No, I’m not.” Even as he denied it, his lip twitched with suppressed laughter.

  “And now you’re lying to me, too.”

  “Whatever.” Brent made to walk away, but Jason grabbed his arm. The smell of marijuana rose from his shirt.

  “Did you get it from Liam?”

  Brent rolled his eyes and shrugged away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What’s your deal, Dad?”

  “My deal is that you’re high, Brent. Forgive me if I’m less than thrilled. And I can also smell cigarettes and beer on you and I know that neither you nor Liam is old enough to buy them.” He paused. “So, who’s been supplying you? Is it that sister of his?”

  Brent had no response.

  “Well, I guess I’ll call Mr. and Mrs. Sturgess and ask them what they think about all this.” Jason reached into his pocket for his phone.

  Brent gripped his wrist. “Don’t! Please, don’t. You can’t embarrass me like that. Please! Liam’s the only guy I know - he’s the only friend I have!”

  “Then tell me where you got the pot, cigarettes, and beer.”

  Brent’s eyes pleaded with Jason. “If I tell you, will you promise not to call Liam’s parents?”

  “I’ll consider it.”

  Brent hesitated, his eyes roaming in a way that told Jason he was forming a lie. “A kid named Nick gave it to us. I don’t know his last name-”

  “Of course you don’t.”

  “-and we were fishing and … and I’ve never tried any of it before, I swear, and I just wanted to see what it was like and-”

  “That’s enough.” Jason held his hand up. “Go to your room.”

  Brent blinked. “But-”

  “Go to your room and don’t come out until I tell you to. We’ll talk later, and then you’re going to apologize to your sister. Your car privileges are revoked until further notice and you’re not going to see Liam again until-”

  “Dad!”

  “You’re not going to see Liam again until I meet him and decide whether or not I want you spending time with him.”

  “But-”

  “I said that’s enough. Go to your room.”

  Several emotions flickered over Brent’s face. “You’re not actually grounding me, are you?”

  “The hell I’m not.” Arms crossed, Jason raised his brows, challenging his son to argue.

  All at once, Brent’s expression of innocence crashed, replaced by dark red hate. “YOU CAN’T DO THIS! YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” He stomped his feet in a fit of fury. “I’m almost eighteen! EIGHTEEN!”

  Jason involuntarily fell two steps back. He’s completely lost it. “Be quiet, Brent, and-”

  “NO! I HATE YOU!”

  “That’s enough.” Jason spoke through gritted teeth.

  “NO!” Brent brought his foot back and kicked the couch, hard. “I HATE YOU! I WISH YOU WERE DEAD INSTEAD OF MOM!”

  Jason gripped Brent’s collar and yanked him forward. An inch from Brent’s face, he spoke low and evenly through clenched teeth, lips pulled back into a sneer. “Shut your mouth and get your fucking ass upstairs before I make you wish you’d never come home tonight at all.”

  Brent’s jaw dropped open like a glove box. He blinked wide eyes at Jason, his throat working convulsively.<
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  Jason, stunned by his own words, let go of Brent’s shirt, and the boy snapped into action, darting up the stairs. An instant later, his door slammed shut.

  Jason stood there in shock, realizing just how close he’d come to hitting his son. He hadn’t known he was capable of even considering it, but he had, and it terrified him. He played the scene over in his mind, concluding the combination of weed and booze was responsible for Brent’s fit - he hadn’t thrown one like that since he was a child - but Jason knew it went deeper. Its roots no doubt lay in Brent’s refusal to deal with - or even discuss - Julia’s death, and Jason didn’t know how to help him. How can I help him when he won’t talk to me or anyone else?

  But despite the pity he felt for his son, Brent couldn’t be allowed to behave the way he had. Half-angry, half-heartbroken, Jason was torn about the way he’d handled the outburst. I threatened him. I almost hit him. Another part of him chimed in: But I didn’t hit him, and given the circumstances, he’s lucky. And even: He deserved far worse than he got. I should have hit him. This last filled him with guilt and self-loathing. No. I will never hit my children. It was a vow he’d made to himself long before he’d ever had Brent or Amber. Jason knew what it was like to have an abusive father, and if Daddy Dearest had done nothing else for him, he’d taught Jason that violence was never the way.

  Dazed, Jason went upstairs to console Amber, who was surely still in tears.

  He gently tapped on her door before cracking it open. “Amber?”

  She was on her bed, crying into her pillow, just as he expected.

  He sat down and stroked her hair, noticing that she’d pulled the braids out. She’d always attached a lot of weight to her big brother’s opinions, and his criticisms cut her deeply. “He didn’t mean it,” Jason told her.

  “I hate him.” Her quaking voice was muffled by her pillow.

  “Don’t say that. You don’t hate him. He’s just going through a lot right now and we have to give him some space.” He resented the excuses he made for his son - they were all going through a lot. “Why did you pull your braids out?”

  Amber sniffed and rolled over to face him. “I don’t want them anymore! He laughed at me and now I don’t want them ever again!”