by Bryan James
“What are we going to say?” he asked.
“What do you think,” she said.
“Please, you can’t say anything. We have to say it was an accident.”
“Fuck,” she said. “She could have killed me. I still could die.”
“But you didn’t,” he said. “People have near death experiences everyday but they move on with their life.”
“I’m fucking bleeding here and we’re having this conversation,” she said.
For a moment he thought about the knife on the porch stuck in the banister, Heather or his mother.
“You have to lock her up. She needs to be locked up.”
“Please,” he said.
She pulled the blood soaked towel away and saw its dark color, felt the blood over her shirt, on her face. She was still bleeding. He gave her another towel which she pressed against the wound.
“Please,” he said.
“Just take me to the hospital,” she said. “I won’t say anything. I just want to get out of here. I just want to get this taken care of.”
He shifted to drive and pulled out of the garage, onto the driveway and slowly out to the main road. He wanted a guarantee. He wanted things to be perfect. He thought about Heather’s soft breasts that a moment ago were in his hands and he bit his lip because he also thought about his mother’s desperate act, the way she kissed at his neck and his face before she fled back to her room. We all want so many things, he told himself.
Chapter 19 - Aftermath
Heather pressed the fabric against her forehead as she sat in the passenger seat thinking about why her life was so miserable, why so many bad things had to happen all at once. Not at once, there were bad things before and bad things after, but sometimes they were too close together, she told herself. It was too much, no, too much was too much, this wasn’t too much, but it was something else. She could see Simon’s face occasionally in the passing lights but it wasn’t enough to see him.
Simon pulled to the Emergency Entrance of the hospital and parked his car. He was ready to jump out, run around to the other side and help Heather out but she stopped him. She grabbed his arm and held him there in the seat. She opened her car door partially causing the dome light to illuminate them.
“I think it would be best if you didn’t come inside,” she said.
“But,” he said.
“Don’t, don’t worry about it. You can’t go in there. I’ll just say I got a lift from someone who couldn’t stay.”
“I want to help,” he said. “I’m so sorry for what happened.”
“I know,” she said.
“But my mother, are you going to say anything? Are you going to tell them what happened? I need to know.”
She looked to him. He was about to cry. He was about to move but without destination. It was true desperation. He was trying to leave his body, she thought.
“I’m not going to say anything but you have to do something about her. She needs to go somewhere. She needs to be put away.”
“Please,” he said. “If anyone found out about this we’d be run out of town.”
“You can’t fix this. This wasn’t your fault.”
He began to cry. It bubbled from him as he tried to suppress the sounds and physical symptoms.
“I don’t know what I am going to tell them but I won’t say anything about her, not right now, but I don’t know if I can see you again.”
He sat back from her and she let go of his arm. He retreated to the door of the car, his hands went to his thighs where he gripped the denim.
“Please,” he said.
“I can’t stay here.”
She turned away and he let out a moan. She got to her feet, turned on the asphalt and looked back in to him.
“I’ll call Kevin, but you need to leave,” she said.
She backed away and closed the car door before turning away and walking into the hospital. He watched the doors close behind her and she was gone. He couldn’t see her anymore. He wanted to do the romantic thing. He wanted to run after her. He wanted to hold her hand and be there for her but then he thought about what she said. If he went inside there would be questions. If he went inside it would be yet another thing that strange Simon Winters boy would be associated with, be responsible for, and they would be saying he had done it, he had attacked her.
Simon drove off, out of the lot, and made it a hundred yards before he pulled into another parking lot, drove to the section farthest away from the main doors, parked his car and began to cry openly. He lost himself in the pain and feeling of it. At one point when it felt like there were no more tears he moved his jaw as if he wanted to yell but nothing came out. He punched and grabbed at the steering wheel, tried to damage it in some way so at least that would be real. In doing so he hit the horn making it sound, an unexpected noise that in his state caused him to hold his breath and freeze until he realized just what he had done, just how silly it sounded, just how silly he looked, and he began to laugh.
*******
Sitting in his underwear at Thad’s dining room table just after eleven at night Kevin looked at the blank word application document on his laptop as he tried to think over the book he had just finished reading earlier that day. He needed to come up with a reaction paper by the next morning, something clear and reasonable, but he was more than a little distracted as he heard Thad in the kitchen cooking a late snack. He looked to the older man who stood in just an apron and nothing else. He noted the small of the man’s back and muscled buttocks from regular marathon training. Kevin bit his lip and was about to give up on his homework but Thad saw him and pointed an accusing finger at him.
“Back to work young man,” he said.
“Or what?” Kevin asked sarcastically.
“Don’t tempt me,” Thad replied.
Kevin was about to tempt him, though he had never raised a hand to the younger man it was a joke between them that almost always got pushed to the limit, when he heard a familiar tone that he recognized as his ring tone for Heather.
“I have to get that,” he said.
“Really?”
“It’s Heather. After everything that happened with her father it’s been tough running the coffee shop alone.”
Kevin jumped to his feet.
“Where did I put my phone?”
“Wherever you left your pants. The bedroom,” Thad answered.
Kevin ran down to the bedroom and found his pants, found his phone and answered it. He sat and had a smile on his face, was ready to offer nearly any comfort she needed.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hey Kevin, I need a ride. I’m at the hospital.”
“What?”
“It’s a long story. Can you pick me up?”
“Well, I’m at a friend’s house and I don’t have my car.”
“I really need this,” she said.
“Maybe, let me find out,” Kevin said before he muted the phone and got to his feet. He walked the distance back to Thad and leaned against the refrigerator.
“Can you drive me to pick Heather up?” he asked.
“We’d have to get dressed first,” he answered. “Oh shit, was that still on?”
“Don’t worry about it. I have her on mute. Hold on.” He turned mute off and pressed the phone to his ear and told her they’d be there in minutes.
“Where are we going?” Thad asked.
“The hospital,” Kevin said.
When they got into the car to leave Kevin was thoughtful enough to sit in the back seat of Thad’s car because he didn’t want her to feel like cargo. Thad didn’t ask him about it though he was feeling his own anxiety of having a stranger sitting beside him for the drive back.
At the hospital Heather was waiting for them on the bench by the doors, a patch clearly visible on her forehead. She stepped to the car and was surprised to be offered the passenger seat but she took it easily and closed the car door. They sat without speaking for a moment before Thad pulled away and
began the short drive back to his house.
“Are you okay?” Kevin asked.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“This is Thad,” Kevin said.
“Hi Thad,” she replied.
Thad tried to look to her, tried to look over his shoulder to Kevin, but finding he couldn’t offer either of them comfort he focused back on the road to try and make it as easy and quick a drive as possible. They were almost there when Kevin reached up to her shoulder and gripped it causing her to let out a small scream before she caught herself and suppressed the urge. He let go of her shoulder and retreated.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“No, no, it’s just tonight I’m jumpy,” she said.
“We’re here,” Thad said.
He turned into the driveway and pulled to his usual spot before parking and turning off the car. It was enough to focus on the usual actions as he let Kevin step in to guide her up to the front door. He held the door for them, closed and locked it behind them. He offered them a drink.
“Glass of water,” she said.
“Me too,” Kevin said.
“I hope you don’t mind if I drink something stronger,” Thad said.
Kevin looked to him unsure if it was the situation or the friend that bothered him as he led her to the chair where he had been doing his homework. She sat and leaned against the back, let out a sigh. Kevin moved a chair to her side and took hold of her hand which she welcomed, running a thumb over his knuckles before Thad set down two bottles of water and walked to the far end of the room with a beer in his hand.
“Are you going to tell us what happened?” Kevin asked.
“It was Simon’s mother,” she said.
Kevin and Thad looked to each other, then back to Heather who took a long drink of water before she started to tell them her story. Afterwards they sat in silence for a moment before Thad asked her to stay the night. She said she would and thanked him. Thad and Kevin made up the couch with spare sheets and pillows. Heather watched them, thought about how familiar Kevin was to know where everything was, but not because he slept on the couch, no this was his boyfriend. She realized she knew the man. He had taken her senior photographs like most of the rest of the school. Did he take Kevin’s? Was that how they met?
The age difference became more apparent over the minutes she watched them work together. How many years? She smiled. Kevin noticed and was about to ask but she dismissed it with a wave of her hand.
“Thank you, I really need to get to sleep,” she said.
“Do you want something to help you sleep?” Thad asked.
“Sure,” she said.
She moved to the couch, pulled back the top sheet and sat. Thad left the room and Kevin moved to sit beside her. They smiled at each other.
“Your friend?” she asked.
“My friend,” he answered.
“He’s nice,” she said.
“Very nice,” he replied.
“I recognize him. He did my class photos.”
“Mine too,” he said.
She rolled her eyes and he let out a nervous laugh. For a moment things seemed fine until she thought about what had happened and what she still had to deal with tomorrow and the foreseeable future and then she let out a sigh.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“What do I do now? I really liked him but this isn’t the normal in-law kind of thing. This is serious. She tried, could have, killed me. I was this close to death.”
He winced.
“What did you tell the people in the emergency room? Are you going to file charges? You need to think about it. She’s crazy. She could harm someone. She could kill you or even Simon.”
“I told him she should be locked away but I don’t think he’ll do anything.”
“Then you have to,” he said.
“I don’t know. It’s complicated. And everything with my father, dealing with the coffee shop alone, having to do everything. I’ve lost customers.”
“I’ll help you any way I can,” he said.
She looked him in the eye.
“My knight,” she said. “But I don’t think there is very much you can do.”
Thad stepped into the room and cleared his throat to get their attention before he walked to her and handed her two pills and a glass of water. She took the pills and drank all of the water. Thad told her where the bathroom was and to not worry about waking them in the middle of the night if she needed anything before he looked to Kevin and invited him to follow with a motion of his head.
Kevin felt a chill in his spine as he had never had another man invite him in such a way in front of anyone. He got to his feet and stepped to Thad. They looked to her and she shrugged her shoulders.
“Goodnight,” Kevin said.
“Goodnight,” Thad said.
“Thanks guys,” she replied.
They walked out together. Thad took hold of him as they walked down the hallway, up the stairs, and to his bedroom where he closed the door. They stripped out of their clothes and began their normal bedtime rituals. They were almost comfortable when a thought occurred to Kevin.
“She recognized you,” he said.
“What? Oh, you mean I took her senior photos? Of course, I took almost everyone’s photo. I can’t say I remember her though.”
Chapter 20 - Proof of Having Been
Everything has been put away and cleaned, Simon thought, there was no more evidence, no proof of what happened, and yet there was a pain in his stomach and his chest that had he been older he would have thought it was a heart attack. It felt almost as intense as the pain in his thighs and buttocks from the whipping she had given him upon his return. In that same place as it had been years before until the sin was beaten from him, his brain was rendered useless, and his body, his skin throbbed with each heartbeat. He had almost refused her. He had thought about fighting her, but then he thought about Heather and that he wanted to see her again. By giving in he thought he could guarantee something... if not her permission, then at least her good grace.
Why did his mother have to ruin things? Why did she have to be the way she was? No, more importantly why did she have to be his mother? We don’t choose family, he answered. We are born into it. We are a product of it. We are a part of it. And we cannot easily leave it. Her illness had gotten worse. It was one thing to take out her violence on him with beatings and spankings but this, attacking his girlfriend with a knife, was something else. Oh god, would she even still be his girlfriend? Was there a relationship after this? Could she still trust him? What about his mother? She had said to put her somewhere. Like prison? Like an asylum? She had been to a mental hospital before several times, a few when he was young and once he had her committed himself after he returned but she didn’t stay long. She could be convincing, intelligent, and aware when she needed to be. She could get out of those places.
No, the next thing was prison, but he hated the very feeling of that idea. Prisons did not change a person. Prisons were there for punishment. How much punishment did she need? One month or six months, three years or five years, and it wouldn’t be easy to slide her past the mental hospital. No, if she said the right thing his mother might not even make it to prison.
What was left? A therapist who she would visit once a week, once a month, and maybe he’d prescribe something else that her family doctor wouldn’t but he hated the idea of drugs, of doping her up so she would be more compliant. No, she hated drugs, and he hated them too. That was why she turned to the church. She went at least every Sunday, sometimes more if she felt the need, but it didn’t actually do anything for her. What god could she pray to that would leave her this way? What god would keep him beholden to her? What god that could not, did not, punish her or stop her?
No, there was no satisfaction there and he felt the compulsion again to take the knife up. Maybe he’d have to stab her or maybe he could get her to stab herself but it wouldn’t make any difference because he would be supplying the k
nife. Murder or suicide but there was no justice to her death. Besides the knife would be too bloody, and even if she killed herself there would still be suspicions. The town would think he did it. That would be the end of him and any hope of a relationship with Heather.
It had to be something else, like maybe falling down the stairs. He could drag her there or else wait for some opportunity. But when would be the right time? How would she fall? Would she be guaranteed to die? If she didn’t, if she was still alive, then he’d have to finish her. But how could he do that without leaving any evidence? A pillow left fibers, fingers left choke marks. And worse she could be seriously injured and completely dependent on him for everything including all of her personal care. He shuttered at the idea of bathing her, dressing her, and putting her to bed. At the very least if she died he’d still be a suspect.
No, he told himself, he had to wait it out, see what Heather said and take it from there. In some way the best thing would be for her to be locked up and then maybe he could leave her, leave town. He had his escape plan, his life raft, of nearly twenty-five thousand dollars in cash and funds in a savings account. That would be enough to start somewhere else, start over. Heather could go with him. She would have to leave her father but maybe she would do it.
They could go anywhere, maybe drive across the country until they found a place. Maybe they could start a business or she could go to college and he’d get a job somewhere even though there wasn’t much need for someone with a G.E.D. and no work experience. He’d work anywhere, he told himself, any menial job just to be away from here, and yet it was a fantasy because he didn’t even know if Heather really liked him, if she still liked him. It was a familiar pain from when his father had left him.
Eight years old at the time, and his father had moved out of the house for work. That was one thing, something he barely noticed because his father returned almost every weekend and for holidays but it didn’t feel right. It went on for a year and it felt like his father was always lying to him, especially as he gave him a number to call to talk, to ask for help. He had called only once and got a woman. There were children in the background. Was she a girlfriend? Was his father living with another woman and with children. Did he have a new family? It was only made worse as his father tried to explain away everything, tried to make him unsure of what he had heard until there was no point in arguing. He never called back.
