Night Fury: Second Act

by Belle Aurora

  Lifting my head, I howl in pain as I’m taken down to the floor with a thud.

  Sneaky, sneaky.

  Still kneeling, he watches me through smiling eyes. Only Bob could beat the shit out of me and make me want to hug him.

  I lift my head a moment before I raise my hand and wave my invisible white flag.

  He chuckles out loud and moves over to me. Holding out his hand, he utters, “Great job today. Soon you won’t even need sessions.”

  I couldn’t tell you why, but as he says that, my chest pangs. Rather than show any emotion, I lie back on the ground, chest heaving and cover my eyes with a forearm. I don’t want my sessions to end. If my sessions end, what time will I have with Bob? Just me and Bob. I suppose I sound like a whiny little brat, but Bob is all I know. He is my protector. My guardian. My role model. Sure, he could have been a better role model, but I say he did good with what he had. That he does good, still.

  “So, how are things with Xavier?”

  Bob sits by me and remains silent for a while, thinking before answering, “Another week or so and he’ll be good to go on his way.”

  My arm flops down by my side. “And he’ll be okay, you think? He’ll stay away from drugs?”

  Bob stares into the wall, not answering.

  I close my eyes tightly and mutter a tired, “He’s going to use again, isn’t he?”

  Bob breathes deeply and replies on an exhale, “I don’t think he will for a long while, but I think it won’t take much to set him off. The guy already has anger issues, that much is clear, but dealing with someone like Tomas is not an easy thing.” He looks at me. “How long do you think you could go with someone ignoring you before you hit the wall?”

  My heart aches.

  I know Tomas doesn’t do this intentionally but, yes, he doesn’t listen. I like to think because he can’t. He communicates in the only way he knows how.

  Bob is right. It won’t be easy.

  If only they could stay…

  As if knowing my thoughts, Bob rubs my arm before standing and leaving me to my thoughts.

  ***

  “Tomas, you need to keep real still for Ari or she might cut you.”

  Tomas keeps his head still but his arms flail under the smock. I know he can’t help it. He seems to need to be moving in some way all the time. So I do something I haven’t done since I was a little girl. I move to stand in front of Tomas, and take his contorted hands in mine. I smile and start softly, “Patty cake, patty cake, baker’s man, bake me a cake as fast as you can…”

  Tomas smiles a crooked smile and it spurs me on. I sing louder, making the movements between our hands bolder and sillier.

  Obviously, we can’t do it like any other people do, so I pat our hands onto his knees and make motions myself. I feel stupid. Really stupid. But it’s making him happy. And I’m sure he’s thinking, ‘Wow. You look so damn stupid.’

  Ari laughs sweetly while she continues to work. She places a hand on Tom’s shoulder and says full of humour, “I think we should have found a way to record this, oui?”

  To our amazement, Tomas jerks his head around. It doesn’t look like much, but I’m sure this was a nod. He was agreeing with Ari.

  Rather than show how shocked I am, I clear my throat and drawl, “Thanks a lot, Tomas.” I wink at him. “I thought we were friends. I wonder who’s going to hook you up with those chocolate éclairs you like so much now that we aren’t friends anymore.”

  He smiles harder and points a kinked finger at me.

  I feign surprise. “Me? Me, you say? But I thought we weren’t friends?”

  He shakes his head slowly.

  My eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t be trying to make friends with me just for my ability at sourcing éclairs, would you?”

  Smiling hard, Ari removes the smock and announces, “And we are done! Here. Let’s get you up.”

  She helps him stand and walks him over to the mirror. She gently strokes her dainty hands through his newly cut hair and asks, “What do you think? Better?”

  Tomas stares at himself for a long while. Just as my heart begins to sink at his reaction (or lack of) he turns and places an arm around Ari’s neck. She hides her surprise well, hugging him back in turn. When they pull apart, she leans down into his face, gently taps his nose and whispers, “You’re so welcome.”

  A small knock at the door has us all turning.

  Xavier watches Tomas with a blank expression on his face. Tomas lowers his face and walks out of the room. Xavier’s brow furrows as he watches his brother walk back to his room without a word spoken.

  The tension in the air in tangible. You could cut it with a knife. Ari and I watch Xavier bite the inside of his cheek and drift off far into his mind. He grips the doorframe with both hands and puffs out a breath. “What am I doing wrong?”

  He sounds miserable. My heart clenches. I’m not sure what to say so I keep quiet.

  Ari, on the other hand, clears her throat. “You know, Xavier, when I was growing up, my father was absent. He had brought trouble to himself. My mother loved him regardless. But he was trouble.” Her accent thickens as she speaks. “He was a good man, but he did some bad things. He eventually was arrested and he died in prison.”

  I blink over at Ari.

  She’s never spoken about her family before. She never speaks of her past.

  Xavier shrugs as if he doesn’t understand why she’s telling him this.

  She smiles at him. “No matter how much I loved my father, I always felt he abandoned me. Years of his life wasted away in prison. He could have done better. He should have made sure he did better. He owed it to us to be the best person he could be. But he did not.” Her face turns sympathetic as she delivers a hard blow. “I hated him for that. Perhaps Tomas feels abandoned, non? How long were you apart?”

  Xavier stares down at the floor. “Years. A really long time.”

  Ari nods. I do nothing.

  It’s as though I’m intruding on a private conversation.

  Ari speaks softly, “You can change this, beau. There is still time to fix what has been broken.”

  Xavier doesn’t respond. His eyes void. It barely looks as though he’s breathing. Ari walks over to him and places her hands on his shoulders, slowly. Gently. As if trying not to spook a frightened animal. “I would have done anything for my father to have made an effort. That’s all it would’ve taken for me to love him again. To know he was trying.”

  Xavier mutters, “I am trying.”

  “Good. Then don’t take no for an answer. Show him you won’t be going away again. Never again. That he can rely on you. That you will take care of him.”

  When he doesn’t speak again, Ari pulls him over to the chair in the middle of the room. “Sit. You need a haircut.”

  He allows her to lead him. As he sits, he looks over at me. I shoot him a small smile. He returns the smile, but his is a tired smile.

  It’s then that I ask myself who will take care of Xavier.

  Chapter Twelve

  One week later…

  Arms elbow deep in bread dough, I hear footsteps rush into the kitchen. I lift my head in time to see Tomas coming my way, a smile on his face.

  From way behind, I hear someone running. “Tom, stop!”

  I chuckle to myself and watch as Tomas tries to hide himself somewhere in the kitchen.

  “I’m serious, dude! When I get my hands on you, you’re finished!”

  There isn’t much time. I reach behind me and open the door to the pantry. I whisper hiss, “Over here!”

  Tomas doesn’t need to be asked twice. He moves into the pantry and I shut the door behind him.

  Xavier comes into the kitchen, puffing. “Hey. Have you seen Tomas?”

  I shrug but don’t dare look at him. I bite the insides of my cheeks to stop myself from smiling. Xavier doesn’t miss this.

  Eyes narrowing on me, he takes a small step forward. And my tummy flutters.

  Over the last week, Xavier
has put on a lot of weight he had lost during the days he was ill. He looks stronger, and much more handsome. His cheeks are no longer sunken and I’m almost ashamed by the fact that when he takes an afternoon run, I tend to my garden just so I can watch him.

  He’s becoming a better person. He isn’t quite there yet, but he’s trying.

  Tomas hugged him for the first time a few days ago. It was hard not to witness when Tomas made a show of it at dinner one night.

  Xavier’s face morphed from surprise to happiness to anguish. He held his brother for a long time and when he lifted his head, he swiped furiously at his own eyes trying to hide the tears.

  It was a beautiful thing. Not a single person at the dinner table could hold back their smiles.

  “I don’t know where he is. Maybe he went through to the back,” I say distractedly, pointing over to the back door.

  But Xavier smirks and drawls, “Is that right?”

  Shit. He’s onto me.

  I shrug a second time because if I speak, I’ll also burst into laughter. When he rounds on me, I take a step back and put my arms out. “What?”

  His smile turns predatory. “You know what. Where is he?”

  I smile so hard it hurts. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Xavier chuckles softly. “He needs a bath. He smells like cheese.”

  Another step back. “He’s a boy. They’re meant to be dirty.”

  “He doesn’t even eat cheese, Cat. Tell me where he is.”

  “Don’t come any closer.”

  A foot away from me, he lunges and catches me around the waist just before I turn to run.

  Truth is, if I didn’t want to him to catch me, he wouldn’t have.

  I play struggle, laughing. “Let me go!”

  Pulling me further back into his body, I still. So does he. I feel his warm breath on my neck and my body breaks out into goose bumps. I slump into him. He rewards me with a slight squeeze. The pantry door opens and Tomas comes out, his face contorted into a laughing smile.

  Xavier releases me quickly and I step away from him rolling my eyes. “You were meant to wait till I got rid of him, Tom! Sheesh. I need to teach you the aim of this game.”

  Xavier opens his arm wide and Tomas runs into his body. “Oomph. Slow down there, boy. You ready to get clean?”

  A noise of protest comes from low in Tomas’s throat but he places his hand in Xavier’s. Tomas leads Xavier away, and just before they leave, Xavier turns and winks at me.

  I’m not sure why exactly, but ever since we came to blows the previous week, Xavier has become a friend. Perhaps he needed someone to throw a healthy dose of reality in his face.

  My stomach twists. Bob says it’s almost time for them to leave. But I don’t want them to leave. I like them here. They’ve become a part of us. A part of our family.

  How will they survive without us?

  How will I live without them?

  ***

  I have a job tonight.

  It’s supposed to be an easy one. In and out. No need for mess or hassle.

  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the need for bloodshed after Bob told me Tomas and Xavier will be leaving the day after next.

  Quite frankly, I’m pissed off. I understand when Bob says this is no place for civilians. I do. But it’s not like I’m walking around asking, “Hey Tom, want to see my sword?”

  After plenty of thought, I’ve decide to plead with Bob to let them stay a little while longer.

  The office door is open, but as I get closer, my determined steps slow.

  “How could you do this?” This comes from Bob, and it sounds accusatory.

  “I didn’t plan this, Bob. It just happened.” This is Frankie. Her voice soft.

  Something is knocked over, landing on the floor with a crash. A harsh, “Who’s is it?”

  A slap resounds.

  My eyes widen.

  Frankie sounds heartbroken when she croaks, “You are a lot of things, Bob, but you never were an asshole.”

  Silence.

  Silence that worries me.

  Finally, she states acidly, “It’s yours.” A long silence, then she adds wearily, “For me, it was always you.” There’s a pause. “But it never was me for you, was it?”

  Bob sighs, “I never wanted kids, Frankie. Not ever.”

  Frankie returns with, “But you took in Cat…”

  Bob spaces out the words, making his point, “I. Never. Wanted. Children.”

  And it cuts me deeply. So deep that my chest feels slashed open. Gaping. Raw.

  He never wanted me.

  I love him but he never wanted me.

  My eyes fill with tears. Frankie exits the office, not even sparing me a glance. As Bob attempts to go after her, he comes to a screech in front of me.

  His eyes widen in shock. “Cat.” He takes one look at my face and I know he knows I heard him. “Sweetie…”

  Not waiting for an explanation, I turn and walk away from him. He calls out again, but I don’t stop. He taught me better than to let people see me cry.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Bob tries to speak to me a second and third time today, but I flee both times, not letting him say a single word for fear of what he might say.

  I have my memories of my childhood. Good memories. I don’t want anything to taint that.

  My garden has been sorely neglected while Tomas and Xavier have been with us. Truth be told, I prefer spending time with them than being in my most favourite place in the world.

  I smile to myself as I lie back on my cot.

  My routine over the past week has changed dramatically. My mornings are spent mostly with Tomas, as we are early risers, while we wait for the others to wake. I’ll normally find him standing in the hall, rocking, while it’s still dark out. That’s when I’ll take him by the hand and lead him to the kitchen where we quietly share breakfast.

  I’ve learnt that fruity rings are his favourite cereal.

  He makes a mess of himself, but it’s fine because he has fun doing it. He’s even tried to feed me a couple of times, smiling all the while. How could I refuse a shaky spoonful of cereal when that face is so happy?

  I once asked Xavier what he does about the morning wanderings at home, which was clearly a huge mistake. He shot me a hateful glance and spat, “Well, I’m not about to fuckin’ lock him up like some animal, Cat.”

  I quickly apologised. Then stuck my foot deeper into my mouth when I told him it was dangerous for Tomas to be wandering the house by himself in the dark.

  That’s when his face turned tortured. After a long while, he admitted on a whisper, “I know.” His voice thickened with shame. “That’s why I lock him in his room at night.”

  And my heart broke.

  As I lie here trying hard not to read too much into what Bob said this morning, my head clears for a single moment before I jump up off the bed with a gasp. It’s only just hit me.

  I run a hand through my hair and whisper, wide eyed, “Holy shit.” I blink in shock.

  Frankie’s pregnant.

  ***

  Running to Bob’s room, I’m almost stopped by Ari.

  Holding my hand out, I rush out, “Not right now. This is an emergency.”

  I continue to run and when I get to Bob’s bedroom, I swing open the door and come to an abrupt halt. A frown mars my brows.

  She’s not here.

  Mirage.

  Of course.

  On foot again, I pass Ari a second time but cut her off when she tries to speak. “Sorry, Ari. I’ll find you once I’ve found Frankie.”

  I hear Ari growl but I keep running. I run down the stairs. I run through the kitchen and right though the back door. I run over to the barn and key in my code.

  My heart races. I pant and sweat. But I don’t care.

  I need to see her.

  Finally, I reach her bedroom and knock. “Frankie? You in there?”

  There is no response but I can hear shuffli
ng from the inside. Against my better judgement, I open the door and what I see makes my stomach roll.

  Bags.

  She’s packing bags.

  Not just a bag.

  Bags. Plural.

  She’s leaving.

  My voice sounds that of a scared little girl. “What are you doing?”

  Her lips quiver; her cheeks are tear-stained. She doesn’t even look up at me. She doesn’t even answer me.

  I take a small step into her room, mouth gaping. “What are you doing?” I repeat, louder this time.

  But she ignores me. And it hurts. It also makes me angry. “You’re taking off? Just like that? Like a goddamn coward?”

  This gets a reaction. She turns her bright eyes up at me and hisses, “You don’t know shit, Cat. Fuck off.”

  I shake my head, jaw steeled. “You’re pregnant and you’re running. You’re a coward.”

  She looks as though she wants to say something but she bites her tongue.

  I push further. “Go ahead. Leave. We don’t need you.” I force myself to say something I don’t mean. I need her to react. “I don’t need you.”

  Rather than make her angry, she chokes on a sob. “You’re a bitch.”

  My lips quiver. “Get angry. Fight me. Don’t run away with your tail between your legs.” She continues to throw things into her duffle bags. My voice shakes, “Don’t leave.”

  I watch on as the first of my tears fall. In a desperate attempt at forcing emotion, I rush forward, take the fuller bag and dump its contents all over the floor. Clothes and framed photographs lay strewn on the ground.

  Silent, painfully so, Frankie’s body shakes in silent sobs as she kneels to pick up her belongings.

  My legs give out. I fall to my knees and croak, “Talk to me, dammit.”

  Slowing her packing, Frankie mutters in eerie softness. “I have to go.”

  My chest aches. “No you don’t. We’ll protect you. I’ll protect you. The church is a safe place.”

  She scoffs, “A nun with a kid. Really, Cat?”

  Okay. So it doesn’t look good.

  “We can say he was an orphan. Like me. We can raise him like you guys raised me.”