by Willow Rose
“What? Why…for what…what’s going on, Dad?”
My father sighs from the other end of the line. “For murder. He’s been arrested for murder.”
Chapter Eight
September 2015
They take him for a ride. Billy the Kid is crying in the back when the girls take him first to the Super Wal-Mart in Merritt Island that is open 24/7. Placing a knife to his back, they walk through the store and pull bottles of wine, gin, and tequila from the shelves. They even find a fishing pole that they think could be fun to buy. Along with some chips Jamie wants, and sugarcoated donuts. Kim has a craving for cheesecake while Britney wants chocolate. And loads of it. Liz holds the knife in Billy’s back and asks them to throw in some Choco-mint ice cream for her. Then she grabs a bottle of drain cleaner. They tell Billy to take out his wallet and pay for everything.
“If you as much as whimper, I will split you open,” Liz whispers, as they come closer to the cashier. “I’ll make it look like you attacked me. Who do you think they’ll believe, huh? A surfer dude or a decorated war-veteran? A female one on top of it.”
After he pays, they open a bottle of gin and take turns drinking from it while they drive, screaming and cheering, back to Cocoa Beach where they park in front of Ron Jon’s surf-shop, which is also open 24/7. Yelling and visibly intoxicated, they storm inside with Billy and take the elevator to the second floor. They run through the aisles of bikinis and pull down one after another.
“I always wanted yellow one,” Kim yells.
“I’m going red this time,” Britney says. “Wouldn’t this look cute on me?”
“Grab me one of the striped ones over there,” Liz says. “Size medium.”
Kim giggles cheerfully then grabs one. They don’t bother to try them on. There is no time for that. Kim also grabs a couple of nice shirts from Billabong, and then some shorts from Roxy for Liz.
“Oh,” Britney says and points at the surfboards on the other side of the store. She looks to the others. “I always wanted a surfboard!”
“Me too,” Jamie exclaims. “Let’s find one!”
“I…I can’t afford that,” Billy whimpers. “Aren’t they like four hundred dollars?”
“This one is five hundred dollars,” Jamie says, and looks at a seven-foot fun-shape. “Doesn’t it look GREAT on me?”
“Adorable,” Liz says and laughs.
“I can’t afford this,” Billy whimpers over and over when they pull the boards out.
“Grab one for me too,” Liz says, ignoring his complaints. She presses the knife into his back, puts her arm around his neck, then kisses his cheek, making it look like they are a couple.
“You’ll have to,” she whispers. “I’ll make a scene. Make it look like you tried to rape me.”
“Okay, okay,” he says with a moan. “Just don’t hurt me, okay? Just let me go after this, alright?”
She doesn’t make any promises. That’s not how Liz rolls.
They charge everything to one of Billy’s credit cards, then run out of the store carrying surfboards and plastic bags with bikinis, hollering and laughing. They throw everything in the car and strap the boards onto the roof before driving to the International Palms Resort a few blocks further down A1A, where they book a suite for all of them, charging it on his credit card again.
“Please don’t make me pay for any more,” he says in the elevator.
They ignore his complaints, and then storm into the room. It is huge and has great views of the ocean. Liz lets go of Billy, then throws him on the white couch. Jamie grabs one of the bottles of Vodka and places it to her lips. She drinks it like it is water. Liz laughs and pulls the bottle from Jamie’s hand. She places it to her lips and closes her eyes while it burns its way down her throat.
“Hey, leave some for the rest of us,” Kim yells, and grabs the bottle out of Liz’s hand.
The vodka spills on Liz’s white shirt. Liz looks angrily at Kim. “What the hell…?”
Kim laughs, then drinks from the bottle. Liz clenches her fist before she slams it into Kim’s face as soon as she lets go of the bottle again. Kim falls backwards, then stares, confused, at Liz.
“What…what happened?” she asks.
Liz grabs the bottle out of her hand forcefully. Jamie and Britney remain quiet. They dare not make a sound. The feeling of power intoxicates Liz. Liz looks at Billy the Kid, who is squirming on the couch while staring at them with terror in his eyes.
Liz approaches him. He squirms again. Liz leans over and kisses him forcefully. He tries to push her away, but two of the other girls grab his arms and hold him down while Liz has her way with him. She pulls off his pants and then she laughs.
“Is that all? Is that the anaconda you wanted me to ride?”
“Please, just let me go,” Billy says, crying in humiliation “I’ve done everything you wanted me to. I’ve paid for everything. Please, just let me go.”
“Now he wants to leave. You finally have the chance to get laid and now you want to leave? No no, Billy, tsk tsk. That’s not what a woman wants to hear, is it, girls?”
The three others shake their heads.
Liz puts her hand on his penis and starts to rub. Soon, his anaconda grows sizably and he starts moaning.
“Please…please…”
She puts her lips on it and makes him hard, then sits on top of him and rides him. The other girls are screaming with joy. Liz rides him forcefully, and soon they both come with deep moans.
Liz smiles when Billy arches in spasms and she feels his semen inside of her, then leans over and kisses his forehead.
“If you tell the police what we did tonight, I’ll tell them you raped me,” she whispers. “That you were holding a gun to my head and you raped me. Boy, I do believe I even have three witnesses. Three VERY reliable witnesses.”
Liz finishes with a laugh, then climbs off Billy. “Come on girls,” she says. “Let’s get really drunk.”
She grabs a bottle and drinks from it. It is strange how it feels like she can’t get drunk anymore. Not like really drunk. Not like in the old days. Liz likes being really drunk. It makes her forget. It is the only thing that can make her forget.
The girls throw themselves at the chips and candy they bought at Wal-Mart. Liz looks at them with contempt. They have no self-control, these girls. Kim buries her hands in the cheesecake and eats it, licking her fingers. Jamie stuffs her face with donuts and has sugar all over her mouth.
Liz sighs.
“You want some ice cream?” Jamie asks.
“I don’t want some stupid ice cream,” Liz says, mocking Jamie. “I’m bored.” She looks at Billy, who doesn’t dare to move on the couch. “He bores me.”
“What do you want to do?” Kim asks.
“Yeah, do you want to have another go?” Jamie asks.
Liz throws the bottle in her hand against the wall. It breaks and leaves a huge mark that Billy is probably going to pay for. Liz growls and kicks the ice cream bucket.
“I’m sick of the prick. He’s no fun to play with.”
Liz grabs the drain cleaner and walks towards Billy with firm steps. The girls all look at her. Serious eyes follow her every step. The atmosphere in the room immediately changes. No one is laughing anymore. No one is eating.
“What are you doing with that, babe?” Jamie asks.
“Don’t do it,” Kim yells.
But Liz doesn’t listen. She opens the lid and grabs Billy’s jaw. She forces it open. Billy is squirming too much and she can’t do it on her own.
“Help me, dammit,” she yells.
The girls hesitate, but don’t dare not to do as they’re told. Who knows what Liz might do next? Who will be next? They have seen too much to be able to say no.
Britney is first to grab Billy’s right arm and hold it down. Jamie then grabs the left one. Kim holds his head still, while Liz pours the liquid drain cleaner into his mouth and down his throat. The three girls stare at her while she empties the bottle comple
tely. They dare not even to speak. Billy’s screams pierce through their bones. No one dares to move.
Liz throws the empty bottle on the ground, then looks at her friends. “Let’s get out of here,” she yells.
Her words are almost drowned out by Billy’s scream.
Chapter Nine
September 2015
I land at Orlando airport around noon the next day. Salter and Snowflake are both with me. We have packed two big suitcases, not knowing how long we are going to stay. My dad tried to convince me there is no need for me to come down, but I didn’t listen. I need to be there. I need to help my brother.
“What about my school?” Salter says, as we walk to the rental car.
“I called them and told them it’s a family emergency,” I say. “They told me you have to be back in ten days or your spot goes to someone else. They mean business, that school.”
It is one of the best schools in New York and one of the most expensive ones too. I haven’t decided if I like it or not. The uniforms I can do without, but that kind of comes with the territory. It is mostly the way they shape them into small soldiers there, always running all these tests, making them stand straight, and never having time to play. It is all Salter knows, so to him, it is fine. But there is something about the school that I don’t like. I find it hard to enjoy that my child is going to a school like this. Joey and I are both surfers and free spirits. This school is not us at all. Yet, we signed Salter up for it as soon as we moved to New York.
We moved because of my job, but unfortunately it turned out to be the end of our little family. Joey had nothing to do up there, since no one would hire him, and soon we grew apart. Staying at home and not having anything to do wore on him. He never felt like he accomplished anything or that he was supporting his family, and that is important to him. He started to feel lonely and sought comfort in the arms of a young girl who worked at a small coffee house on our street. He would go there every day to drink his coffee and write. He wants to be an author and has written several books, but no publisher will touch them. I think they are beautiful and inspiring, but I guess I am biased. I love Joey. I still do. But when he told me he had slept with the girl at the coffee house several times a week for at least a year, I threw him out. Well, not right away. First, I gave him a second chance and we tried to make it work for a couple of weeks, for Salter’s sake, but I couldn’t stand thinking about it all day, whether he’d been with her again. It tore me apart. I have never been a jealous person, but this I couldn’t handle. I tried hard to, but realized I wasn’t as forgiving as I thought I could be. I didn’t have it in me and I felt like I could never trust him again. So, I finally asked him to move out.
“Where do you want me to go?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Go live with that coffee house girl. I don’t know.”
He decided to go back to Cocoa Beach where we grew up together. That was four months ago now. I miss him every day. But I can’t forget what he did. What hurts the most is the betrayal, the deceit. I don’t know how to move past it. I don’t know if I ever can.
He calls as often as he can and talks to Salter. It’s been hard on our son. He loves his dad and needs him in his life, needs a male role model. Salter went to visit him during summer break, and it is the plan that he will be going down for Thanksgiving as well.
“You think I can call Dad now?” Salter asks, as soon as we are in the car and hit the beach line.
I sigh. It is such a big blow to Salter that his dad moved this far away. I know he is excited to see him again. I hate to see that look in his eyes. He doesn’t know his dad cheated on me. He only knows that he left, and that is enough. I know he feels guilt and questions if he had something to do with it. I try to tell him it wasn’t because of him, that sometimes grown-ups grow apart, that they can’t make it work anymore. I am not sure he is convinced.
“Sure,” I say.
Salter smiles and grabs my phone and finds his dad’s number. While driving towards the beach and listening to him talk to his father, I feel a chill go through my body. I watch the big signs for Ron Jon’s surf shop go by and realize my hands are shivering. Everything about this place gives me the creeps. I haven’t been back in almost twenty years. Not since I left for college.
Blake was three years old back then. Joey and I have lived all over since. He worked with whatever he could get his hands on, mostly as a carpenter. I spent five years working for CNN in Atlanta, which became my biggest career jump. Before that I held a position with USA Today in Virginia. I started my career as a journalist at Miami Herald and we lived for a while in Ft. Lauderdale before my job took us out of the state, something I had dreamed of as long as I could remember. To get away.
Salter puts the phone down.
“So, what did he have to say?” I ask, as we approach the bridges that will take us to the Barrier Islands. In the distance, I can see the cruise ships. A sign tells me I can go on a casino cruise for free. Gosh, how I hate this place…with all its tourists and tiki bars.
“He can’t wait to see me,” Salter says.
I turn onto A1A, where all the condominiums and hotels are lined up like pearls on a string.
“At least you’ll have fun seeing your dad,” I say, while wondering what is waiting for me once I arrive at my childhood home. What is it going to be like to see my dad again? What about Blake? I haven’t seen him in several years. He visited me in New York five years ago, but other than that, we have mainly spoken over the phone or on Facebook. We aren’t very close, but he is still the only one in my family I like. He is all the family I have, and I will do anything to help him out.
Anything.
Chapter Ten
April 1977
Penelope and Peter take the baby home to their new house a few days after the birth. In the months to follow, they try everything they can to become a family. But the sleep deprivation is hard on them. Especially on Penelope. She gets up four or sometimes five times a night to breastfeed, and all day long she feels sick from the lack of sleep.
Only a few weeks after the baby arrived Peter gets a new case. It is a big deal, he explains to Penelope, one of those cases that can make or break a career. And Peter is determined to make it.
But that means long days at the office, and Penelope is soon alone for many hours at the house. Sometimes, he even stays away the entire night just to work, and when he finally comes home, he is too worn out to even speak to his wife.
Penelope, on the other hand, longs to speak with an adult and can hardly stop talking to him and asking him questions.
“How was your day? What’s the latest on the case? Do you think you’ll be done in time?”
Peter answers with a growl and tries to avoid her. As soon as he comes home, he storms to the restroom and stays in there for at least an hour, reading a magazine or the newspaper just to get a little peace and quiet.
The first weeks, Penelope waits outside the door and attacks him with more questions or demands as soon as he pokes his head out again.
“The garage door is acting up again. Could you fix it or call someone who could? We need to start thinking about preschool. I’ve looked over a few of them, but I need your help to choose the right one. What do you think? I was thinking about painting the living room another color. A light blue, maybe?”
One day he comes home at nine in the evening after a very stressful day and all he dreams of is throwing himself on the couch, putting his feet up, and reading the newspaper, enjoying a nice quiet evening. When he enters the house, Penelope comes down from upstairs holding the baby in her arms with a deep sigh. The look in her eyes is of complete desperation.
“Where have you been?”
He sighs and closes the front door behind him. He doesn’t have the energy to explain to her what’s been going on at the office.
“A long story,” he says, and puts his briefcase down.
The baby wails. Penelope looks at her with concern. “No. No. Not again. Please
don’t start again.” She looks at Peter. “She’s been like this all day, Peter. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know anymore. I just really, really need time…just an hour of sleep. I’m so tired.”
Peter looks at her. Is she kidding him?
“We’re both tired,” he says.
“No. No. It’s more than that, Peter. She’s driving me nuts. It’s like torture. I can’t eat. I can’t think. I can’t…”
“Could you shut up for just one second?”
Penelope stares at her husband. “Excuse me?”
“Do you have ANY idea what kind of day I’ve had? Do you have ANY idea what I am going through these days? I think you can manage a little crying baby, all right? I would give anything to be in your shoes and not have to deal with this case.”
Peter snorts, then walks past her into the living room, where he closes the door. Penelope has a lump in her throat. She feels so helpless. So alone and so so incredibly tired. She looks at the baby, who is still crying.
“Why are you crying little baby, huh? Why are you crying so much?”
She puts her lips on the baby’s forehead to kiss her, but the kiss makes her realize something. Something she should have noticed a long time ago. The baby isn’t just fussing.
She is burning up with a fever.
Chapter Eleven
September 2015
I drive into the driveway at 701 S Atlantic Avenue and park in front of the garage. I turn off the engine with a deep sigh. Everything looks the same from the outside. Same brown garage doors, even though the painting needs to be redone, same lawn in front and same old palm tree, even though it is a lot taller. The bushes to the right have been removed and new flowers have been planted. I know nothing about plants or flowers, but these are orange and look stunning.
“How come we have never visited granddad before?” my son asks.
I look at him. I knew the question had to come at some point. But I am not ready to provide the answer.
