Pieces of it All

by Tracy Krimmer

  "Come on, come on!" She urged the object racing down the lane. She chewed on her thumbnail as she waited for the ball to descend to the lane's end. Finally, the ball made contact and knocked over four pins. "Yes!" She jumped in the air and clapped her hands. "I beat you!" she teased as she pointed at Mark.

  Heather looked at the scoreboard, laughing at her friends. "Too bad, Mark. She crushed you."

  "Not by much. Besides, I beat you, didn't I?" he responded.

  Beth finished her small victory dance. She sat down, stretching her legs out. "That was a lot of fun. I sure needed that."

  "Another game, ladies?" Mark challenged. He formed a muscle with his bicep. "I'm sure I can beat you this time. I used the first few games to warm these puppies up."

  Heather rolled her eyes. "Get over yourself. You do realize Beth has now kicked your ass at both pool and bowling."

  Mark sat down beside Beth. "I'm not worried. I'd lap her multiple times if it came to swimming." He leaned over and kissed her on the lips.

  She loved being part of a real couple, and going places with Mark, holding his hand, chatting all day and night. The best part was being herself. He wasn't rushing her into anything, and she didn't feel the need to give in to please him. Every ounce of her craved him, and she hoped the sex would come - soon - but at a pace they both could handle. The stolen kisses, the stroke of his thumb against the palm of her hand was all she needed to send fire through her body.

  "Let's go get another pitcher of soda and order a pizza," Heather suggested.

  As hard as she found it to pull herself away from Mark, Beth got up and asked him to set up the next game while they headed to the bar to order.

  "Things seem to be going well with you two. I guess you had a pretty great date." Heather pushed for information the moment they arrived at the counter.

  Beth giggled. "A pitcher of Pepsi and a medium sausage and pepperoni pizza please," she asked the bartender. She turned to Heather, who had made herself comfortable on a stool. "Well, considering he called me right away this morning for this lunch date-"

  "Which I invited myself on!"

  "Yes, you did! I assume he and I are on the same page." Boyfriend and girlfriend. School would start in a few weeks, and she'd be dating a star swimmer, and a man she knew and cared for and truly cared about her. Coupling was awesome, and she forgot how much she loved being part of one.

  Heather dove in front of Beth to pay for the food and soda. "And where exactly is that? It hasn't been long, but I think he's a way better catch than you know who."

  Beth smiled. "I like Mark an awful lot. He's such a good guy." She glanced back at their lane where Mark kept himself busy filling in the information for their next game. Maybe she'd let him win the next one.

  "And hot."

  "Yes, and hot. Heather, how am I supposed to hold onto a guy like him?" Beth pulled her hair back with her hands, pretending to put it in a pony tail. She considered the fact someone like Mark was even single to begin with a miracle. She was young and inexperienced. He had an open playing field. Why her?

  "Don't you dare sell yourself short Beth Overland! This isn't about keeping Mark. Who cares? He's cute. He's nice. He'll treat you well, but have some fun, girl! Don't hang yourself on a guy."

  "Um, Heather." Beth pointed to the television behind the bar. "Heather. Look."

  Beth couldn't believe her eyes. A picture of Harvey plastered across the screen. A mug shot, dated a year ago, his face worn, hair a tousled mess. Underneath the picture it said: Edward "Harvey" Etheridge Wanted for Armed Robbery.

  Heather started to say something, but Beth shushed her. "I want to hear this."

  The news anchor appeared on the screen. "Edward Etheridge, who goes by the name Harvey, is wanted for robbing an auto supply store. He was last seen on Highway 27 according to an anonymous tip. He's one of two suspects, the second not yet identified. If you have any information on the whereabouts of Edward Etheridge, please contact authorities immediately. He is considered armed and dangerous."

  Mark's hand on her shoulder made her jump. "Oh, Mark! It's you."

  He pointed to the TV. "Isn't that the guy from the park?"

  Still staring at the screen, Beth only nodded, unable to comprehend the reality of what she saw.

  Chapter Thirty Nine

  The pain, guilt and fear crashing through Harvey's heart almost suffocated him. He left a man on the side of the road and committed a felony all in the name of cowardice. Anyway he approached the situation, any angle he tried to justify the crime, he couldn't validate his actions. He needed a drink, badly, but had to keep driving. He needed to stay on the move, after one quick stop he had to make.

  He pulled down Sycamore Lane. The paved road cracked in multiple places with potholes set up like a game of pinball. The street, lined with trees on either side, contained only a few lights to guide the way. He passed a couple stone driveways. Peering down the drives, he could barely make out the houses at the end; however, their mailboxes marked their existence. He continued on, not seeing any sign of a destroyed, abandoned house. The road curved and revealed a Dead End sign. He thought he either missed the house, or it didn't exist, until the road ran out, and the structure emerged from the darkness.

  His headlights lit the front of the home, which didn't have much left to it, as Sue had said. A little bit of framework, the wood now a depressing gray. Most of the structure had collapsed. The wood still standing was charred, and any surrounding brush now gone. Shreds of lumber scattered across the ground with specks of dead grass mixed in.

  Harvey parked on the street, uncertain of where the driveway began, as the pavement had faded, covered by dirt, leaves, and trash. He grabbed a flashlight from his glove box, slammed the car door shut and walked toward the house, in a complete and utter daze. He wanted the memories to come back, some sign he could recall at least a part of his early years. He approached, the ground crunching beneath his feet.

  The house had been two stories, a bungalow perhaps. While most of the building had caved in, a tiny bit of framework popped up from the west side of the house meeting a window with a shudder hanging from hinges. On the front door, a worn piece of yellow paper tacked onto the wood stated the status of the building as condemned, and it should have been torn down two years prior. The lack of the city's commitment to follow through didn't surprise him.

  To the left of the entryway, a chair swing on its hinges still swung with the slightest breeze. Had he sat on this swing with his mom, or even his father before he had turned into a prick? He kept walking and stepped over the threshold into the house. The smell of burnt wood seeped into his nostrils, even though the fire blazed through the house over fifteen years ago. In front of him were stairs so burned and full of holes he wouldn't be able to climb them.

  In the dining room a set of four chairs surrounded a pile of rubble, probably the table. He continued through another doorway into the kitchen. He looked down at the floor, noticing the ash turning his shoes black. The refrigerator door was hanging off its hinges. He unsuccessfully tried to slam it shut when the aroma of rotted food and maggots feasting on it assaulted him. He managed to keep from throwing up.

  Harvey continued his tour into the living area. The house had a circular flow, easing from one room into another. This space didn't appear much different than the others – burnt almost beyond recognition and containing no memories whatsoever. A battered couch sat in the middle of the room with cushions black with soot, covered in burns and a few springs sticking out. He took a seat, a puff of smoke escaping and surrounding him. He observed the area around him, taking in every corner and crevice that he could, trying to force his brain to connect the dots and bring at least one happy memory back. He wanted one thing to remember – just one thing to grasp onto.

  He rested his head on the couch and let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes. Behind his eyelids, he saw Beth and her tenderness, her ability to accept him willingly. She wanted to know all about him. She didn't ca
re where he came from or where he was going. Of all the women he had been with, she was the only one who cared. The women used him just as he used them.

  As his breathing deepened into an early sleep mode, Sue's recollection of Harvey's mom and Tommy entered into his mind. Something familiar about the story radiated through him.

  The rain pounded against the window that day. Harvey tried to look outside, his view blocked by the sheets of rain passing through the street like a hurricane. The branches on the trees waved in the wind, barely holding on. At five years old, he still hadn't gotten used to storms.

  "Mommy, are we going to be okay?" The lights flickered.

  Marie picked up her son and sat on the couch, dropping him on her lap. She wrapped her arms around him. "Everything is going to be fine."

  "Are the lights going to go out? Will it be dark in here?"

  She turned to the window. "I don't know, dear. Maybe. But if we do lose power, you will be fine. We're here together, and that's all that matters. We'll be okay."

  He looked at his mother, his eyes growing big. "What about Tommy?"

  "Oh, sweetheart, don't worry about Tommy. He's a big boy, just like you, and can handle it. He'll be brave."

  She picked him up and set him down next to her on the couch. She put her hand on his shoulder. "Tonight you're going to stay with Miss Sue. Daddy and I have some things to talk about. I thought you would like to spend time with her."

  Harvey clapped his hands. "I love seeing Miss Sue! Am I spending the night? She plays hide and seek with me!"

  She ran her fingers through his hair. "I know she does, sweetheart. She really loves you and so do I."

  "And Tommy?"

  "And Tommy."

  "Daddy, too?"

  The question startled Marie. She responded with uncertainty in his voice, just as her answer. "Yes."

  Harvey's eyes snapped open. He realized this couch underneath him was where he and his mother had been sitting on their final evening together. In this very house. He finally had a memory. The night right before his life went to shit.

  After seeing Harvey's face flash on the television screen, Beth had to be alone. Mark had driven separately, so Heather drove Beth back to the apartment. He had been so sweet and understanding. He wrapped Beth in a hug and told her to take some time to process what happened to Harvey. Panic struck her at the word "armed." She never thought Harvey to be a person able to bring physical harm to another. First stealing from her aunt's clients and now this. The day she promised herself a risk-taking summer, she didn't have Harvey in mind. Sure, she wanted to lose her virginity before college and experience a little more than her nose in a book but getting involved with a felon isn't what she imagined.

  Still, she couldn't help but think about Harvey and what he must be going through. She closed herself up when she and Ryan broke up. She didn't talk to any of her friends for a week, and her mom only if forced. She filled a journal expressing her love for Ryan, drowned herself in tears with every Taylor Swift song she found. When that long, painful week came to an end, she picked herself back up and moved on.

  Moving on was easy for her. God, who was she kidding? She mulled over a breakup with a boyfriend in high school and Harvey dealt with something she could never even begin to comprehend. Her struggles in life were nothing compared to Harvey's. He had pain she'd never know or understand.

  She wished Lucy wasn't an hour away. Right now, she needed her best friend. Beth picked up her phone and tapped Messages. She texted Lucy: Have you heard about Harvey?

  The bubble hovered on her screen. It amazed Beth how slowly Lucy typed. Finally, a response came through. My mom told me. How r u?

  She figured as much. The whole town loved to gossip about everything, and Beth didn't doubt Lucy's mom raced to tell her when Harvey's face flashed on screen. What, no I told u so?

  Lucy replied, Not this time. R u ok?

  Not one bit, she wanted to type. Everyone told her not to get involved, Harvey was only bad news they said. She refused to listen. They had been alone so many times in those big houses. He had numerous chances to rob her, or worse. I'll survive. When do u leave 4 school?

  The damn bubbled displayed for so long, Beth assumed Lucy was writing a novel. Three days. We should get together b4. Love u. Text or call if u need me.

  Beth tossed her phone into her purse. She needed Lucy now, at this moment, but anything Lucy said negatively about Harvey would irritate her and reconfirm her stupidity. In a time like this, quiet and space to allow her to think was what she longed for. The library had to be open. She had to get out of the apartment.

  The library always brought peace to Beth. She loved being surrounded by pages and pages of other's stories, the musty smell overcoming her nose. She found an empty table, pulled out a chair and set her purse down. The tears managed to stay trapped behind her eyes as she laid her head on the table. After a few uncertain moments, she perked up and sat straight.

  Beth recalled the first time she had ever been to a library. She stepped inside, mesmerized by the mountain of books before her. Rows upon rows of hardcover books, stories protected by plastic wrap waiting for someone to take them home and experience them. She was just six years old and knew reading was an important part of her life from that moment.

  She raced to the children's section, pulling out book after book, carefully examining each one, the vibrant colors of the pages jumping out at her. Twelve left with her and for the three weeks she had them, they never left her sight. When the time came to return them, she fought with her mom, crushed to no longer have them. She slid them into the return slot, her head hanging low as she held her mom's hand. When her mom told her to go back in and pick out twelve new books, she squealed. She now had twelve more stories to experience. Every three weeks her mom took her to the library, each time taking home as many books as she could carry.

  Not everybody viewed the library the same way Beth did. The two girls sitting at the table opposite her huddled together, whispering. Their demeanor suggested their discussion revolved around other girls in a not so nice way. This happened during lunch all the time in high school. She would sit with the few people she acquainted herself with and other girls pointed and stared at the less popular people, exploding in snickers. It disappointed Beth the pettiness followed her to college, but she certainly wasn't surprised. Some people managed to be snobs their entire life. No matter what they experienced, how they learned and grew, they would always be mean to people and think they were better than everyone else, yet care deeply what those same individuals thought. The girls had their legs crossed, their miniskirts showing their lanky legs, a glittery tank top on each, their boobs popping out from underneath. Barf.

  A young gentleman sat at the next table, his nose stuck in a math book while taking notes. Math wasn't her strong suit. She would've failed Geometry if it hadn't been for tutoring. She still managed to be among the top in her class, thanks to her AP courses. Math Boy let out a smile and acknowledged her.

  Then she came across a young couple. They sat next to one another holding hands, each reading a novel. The man had his hand around the woman's, rubbing his forefinger against her palm. Once in a while he would lean down and kiss her hand. It was sweet and reminded her Mark. She took her phone out of her pocket. No calls or text messages. Maybe she'd go visit him. He'd help her feel a little better.

  She stood up from the chair and pushed it out. As she turned around, she smacked right into another person. Dropping her purse on the floor, she gasped when she saw who it was. "Hi Mark. What are you doing here?" She filled with joy at running into him unexpectedly.

  He leaned down and tossed everything back into her purse and handed it to her. "I came looking for you."

  She blushed. "How did you know to find me here?"

  "I stopped off at your apartment and Heather said to check here. Her surfer boy boyfriend is there."

  "He's back again? He's an idiot."

  Mark smiled, his perfect teeth gl
eaming. "I'm sure he's not that bad."

  He couldn't be serious. Anyone locked in a room with Robert would go crazy.

  "Okay. He's that bad," Mark laughed. "Where are you headed?"

  The touch of his hand on her back comforted her. Mark was the right choice. Harvey took what she considered the biggest piece of her, and he always hovered in her mind, creating this shield bouncing off any love she tried to give. That piece of her was gone, but she wasn't. She had the freedom to give herself. The choice to love belonged to her, and she choose who to give it to, and she wanted Mark.

  Finally, she responded. "To your place."

  Chapter Forty

  Harvey realized staying in the ashen house wasn't the best idea. Thirty minutes or so passed, not too long, but he couldn't stay much longer. All the money sat in his car, and Ricky probably turned him in already. Left on the side of the road with no sympathy for Harvey and full of hatred, Ricky wouldn't waste time. He hadn't any idea where Harvey planned on going, but a conversation with Sue would lead authorities right to Sycamore Lane. Would running from place to place hiding from the police be his life now?

  The only course of action that made sense was getting out of town - for good. He already planned on leaving, but didn't have a single person to run to. Beth didn't need to be dragged into this. She deserved better. Once he put his life back together, he'd win her back. First Maggie, the only other person ever to have been there for him.

  Oh, Maggie. He shouldn't blame her for Beth running out. He never even tried to call Beth to explain; he just let her go. The fault lie on him and no one else. Maggie's presence was easily explained as she was the closest person he had to family. Beth must understand Maggie's importance in his life. She spent months with him, listening to everything about his past, guiding him to make proper decisions and gain control again. Maggie encouraged him to seek out his mom. The truth wasn't what he wanted to hear, but at least he knew the story now, the first step to moving on.