Night Court

by Ashley Fontainne

  No, that’s not true: I do want that. But normalcy isn’t part of my serial killer lifestyle anymore, now is it? Besides, I need to start pulling away from not only Deb, but Derek. It will make things easier for them when all this is over. What am I going to tell her when she asks how my day was? She’d flip out if I mentioned my trip to the hood and the handful of balls I crushed.

  Carol and Steve both left voicemails, so Merry listened. Carol’s chirpy little voice requested a callback “only if you need me” and thanked Merry again for allowing her to be of service “during this incredibly difficult time.” Before hanging up, Carol made sure to leave a bit of her own bait by mentioning in a sweet, innocent voice, “Remember, if you need any help finding a new place, just call!”

  “Thanks, but I’ve already accomplished that on my own,” Merry muttered into the mouthpiece.

  The message from Steve made her heart skip a few beats.

  “Merry? It’s Steve. How are you? Haven’t heard from you in a few weeks, and—you know—I was worried. I know you’re probably busy with preparing to move and all, but, I just—oh, I’m sorry. I swear I’m not trying to poke an unwelcomed nose into your life. Really. It’s just—okay, I know this is going to sound odd—but, where are you moving to? You haven’t mentioned anything about a new place yet, and the folks here at the office want to be able to bring you a housewarming gift. But that’s not the only reason I need to talk to you. The, um, insurance company handling our claim for benefits can’t seem to locate the copy of Harold’s uh, death certificate. I hate to ask, but do you have one more? If not, could you please order another? Let’s schedule a time to talk…”

  In a fit of rage, Merry screamed as she hurled the phone across the room. The second it crashed into the brick fireplace, it shattered into tiny pieces. She jerked off the robe and headed straight to the laundry basket at the edge of the steps. In seconds, she was dressed in her workout clothes. Her feet pounded down the stairs and into the garage.

  She attacked Joshua’s old punching bag, not even bothering to put gloves on. Within minutes, the dirty white bag was coated with a thin sheen of red from her bleeding knuckles.

  ***

  Derek shifted his body in the seat. He’d been sitting in the same position so long his butt was numb. The list of things he hated was long, but waiting was definitely in the top five. Unwilling to risk the light from his phone giving his presence away, he gazed out the windshield. The sun was completely gone, so he surmised it was close to nine p.m.

  He sighed and cracked his knuckles. Years of undercover work helped elongate his tolerance level to being inside a hot car, but this excursion was different. Derek’s mind raced in a hundred directions, and each spur ended up converging at the junction of Merry’s woes.

  His baby sister—there was no one like the red-headed spitfire. Derek had watched her change numerous times over the years. Before their mother died, Merry had truly been the perfect name. She was full of smiles and had an adorable laugh, her mop of curly red hair flapping around like a superhero cape.

  Though he would never tell her, secretly, Derek had been jealous of the attention showered on Merry the minute she arrived in a pink blanket from the hospital. For the first few years, Derek kept his physical and mental distance from her, only connecting with her once she was old enough to tag along on fishing trips. Of course, that had been forced upon him. The first time the subject was brought up, their father pulled Derek aside and informed him Merry was coming. Ten-year-old Derek threw his final, rip-snorting fit. He whined about how he didn’t want to share time he considered special between him and his dad with anyone, much less his annoying little sister. His father had yanked him by the arm and took him outside, where he promptly cut down a switch and applied it to Derek’s bare legs.

  “You will never, ever talk back to me like that again, understand? Merry is your flesh and blood! You’re to love her, protect her, and guide her in ways your ma and I can’t. ’Cause one day, we ain’t gonna be here to take care of her. Got it?”

  With tears of pain, shame, and embarrassment racing down his cheeks, Derek nodded. Too humiliated to verbalize a response, the last lick his father ever laid on him came next.

  “What’s the proper response?”

  “Yes…sir,” Derek muttered through his tears.

  To Derek’s surprise, Merry’s first fishing trip ended up solidifying their relationship. At least on his end after Merry nearly drowned. When a fish nibbled at the line, the excitement made her jump up in the boat and over she went.

  Without a lifejacket and no ability to swim.

  At that moment, watching his little sister sputter and thrash in the water, head bouncing up and down like a bobber, something inside Derek’s ten-year-old mind snapped. He froze, and watched in terrified awe as his father dove in and snatched a screaming Merry by her shoulder just as her head disappeared below the surface.

  Under the influence of his own panic, their father was too rough with Merry as he yanked her out of the water. He pulled too hard and dislocated Merry’s shoulder. Confused, frightened, and in pain, Merry scooted away from her father and clung to Derek. Her big blue eyes were full of tears as she whimpered, “Help me, Derek!”

  That’s all it took for Derek’s heart to melt as love for his sister flooded his soul.

  The day she almost drowned scarred Merry for years. Made her terrified of water, a fear she never learned to overcome. Gone was the peppy, energetic girl with the huge grin, replaced by a shy introvert. The summer Merry turned ten, she’d emerged from her shy-shell as she grew closer to Debbie, only to re-enter it when their mom died in a car accident.

  Until Merry hit her teens, she remained distant. Their father was no help, for the minute their mom died, he turned to work to soothe his broken heart. Derek understood the decision since he was a man, or a reasonable facsimile of one at fifteen.

  Merry, on the other hand, did not.

  Unsure and certainly unprepared in how to handle the upheavals in their lives, Derek simply decided to treat Merry like a little brother. He taught her to play football, ride a bike, skateboard, spit, throw a fastball. He tried, and failed, numerous times to teach her to swim. Anything and everything he did, a little red-headed shadow was by his side, absorbing it all.

  Then, almost overnight, his shy little buddy disappeared. When Merry hit puberty, a new creature emerged. One who wasn’t afraid of anyone or any damned thing. Merry went from riding a Huffy to racing Derek’s old dirt bike against the older neighborhood kids. She could throw a football better, farther, and more accurately than any guy at school, including Derek. She pestered their father for months until he caved and paid for karate lessons, then got her black belt in less than a year. She refused to date the nice guys. Merry was drawn to the dudes even Derek wouldn’t have hung out with during his own rebellious teenage years.

  No, Merry wasn’t just rebellious. She had been addicted to danger.

  Tomboy through and through, Merry suffered from lack of a maternal hand in upbringing to soften her rough edges. Neither men in her life could help, for each had their own painful secrets and heartache they struggled with.

  When he graduated high school and left for college, Merry really rebelled. Got caught smoking, drinking, and dating older men. Dad would yell at her, ground her, but never laid a switch to her backside, which sort of annoyed Derek. At a loss as to how to corral his headstrong daughter, their dad gave up and buried himself even deeper into work.

  Thankfully, Merry’s rebellious years ended the minute she met Harold Hall. During one of the numerous telephone conversations with his very overwhelmed father, Derek made the suggestion to get Merry into yoga. Many of the girls at college were doing it, and he figured it surely couldn’t hurt. It took Derek calling his mouthy sister and threatening to leave Fayetteville and come home to kick her scrawny ass before she submitted and went to her first class.

  After the first day, Merry never had to be persuaded again because she f
ell, hard and heavy, for Harold. Just months after graduating high school, against their father’s strenuous objections, they got married.

  When Joshua arrived two years later, the defiant teenager was nothing more than a fleeting memory. Though Derek and his dad had never really been too fond of Harold since they were on completely opposite sides of just about every conceivable thing possible, they tolerated him for the transformation of Merry. Harold’s calm nature, scientifically-inclined mind, and boring-as-hell consistent demeanor, rubbed off on his previously high-strung sister.

  All that began to unravel when Joshua got hooked on drugs. Little by little, the old, angry Merry emerged. When Joshua and Harold died, Merry completely reverted. Derek didn’t need confirmation he was correct because he sensed it. Could see the deep, unhinged anger behind her eyes. Recognized it from her youth. There was an edginess to her now, and not just from the grief of losing husband and child. Something sinister bubbled and churned inside her, and it made Derek’s heart heavy.

  Derek knew it wasn’t a question of if, but when, Merry’s mind would snap, and he felt helpless to stop it.

  All the years he’d spent shielding his sister from things she never needed to know about didn’t seem to matter anymore.

  The trip down terrible memory lane ended when Derek saw the signal he’d been waiting for. He turned his focus to the task at hand, grateful for the distraction of work.

  ***

  The last ten minutes spread-eagled on the cold, concrete floor, Merry’s breathing returned back to normal. When she stood, her sweat-soaked skin made a strange sucking noise. The intense, two-hour workout brought her focus back where it should be…planning.

  After bandaging her bloodied knuckles, Merry extracted a new ensemble from the hidden spot she’d stashed her supplies. The three enormous coolers Harold bought for parties by the pool were crammed full. A fresh pair of boots, pants, shirt, vest, and wig in hand, she dashed back inside.

  Ignoring the mess she made in the living room earlier, Merry went straight to the junk drawer in the kitchen. Removing the duct tape and scissors, she plopped down in the middle of the floor. It didn’t take too long to wrap the souls of the boots with tape. Once finished, she stuffed everything inside the backpack. Scooting across the floor, she opened the bottom cabinet and reached inside. Her father’s old hunting knife was the last item she would need.

  Staring at the thin, silver blade, Merry decided to hone it to perfection before sliding it inside the bag. A wide smile appeared at the thought of slicing Mookie’s balls off then feeding them to Hercules.

  “Oh, how very twisted of you!”

  Merry’s laugh was cynical, bitter, and full of madness.

  And she loved it.

  Part one of her project completed, it was time to study. She needed to go through Peppy’s phone again and start a mental flow chart of all his connections.

  Just as she sat down at the kitchen table, the doorbell rang. Glancing at the microwave, she was surprised to see it was almost midnight.

  Who the Hell is at my door? Oh, shit. Please don’t let it be about Derek! Wait…was I followed?

  She leaned over and took the knife out from the backpack. Her bare feet made no noise as she crossed the kitchen floor then padded down the steps. Heart pounding, she flipped on the porch light and peered through the peephole, blade at the ready.

  What she saw made her gasp in shock.

  Though older, the long, blonde hair and beautiful face was unmistakable.

  Savannah?

  Merry stood frozen for a few seconds, her mouth hanging agape. She hadn’t seen the girl since Joshua’s funeral, and it had only been a brief reconnection.

  What is she doing here? Wait? Is she? Oh, my GOD!

  Stashing the knife in the umbrella stand to her right, Merry opened the door.

  “Savannah? What are you doing here so late?”

  “Hey, Mrs. Hall. Sorry to stop by so late, but I really need to talk to you. I tried calling you…”

  Merry remembered who the mystery number on her phone belonged to now.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve been busy packing. Planned on calling you back tonight, but I, uh, broke my phone.”

  Obviously nervous, Merry watched Savannah as she rubbed her swollen belly.

  For a few seconds, they both stared at each other without uttering a sound. Merry’s heart beat so fast she feared it would burst from her chest. Eyeing Savannah’s very pregnant belly, Merry finally said, “Please, come inside. Looks like you have something you need to tell me about.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I sure do.” Savannah produced a weak smile and nodded.

  Merry held the door wide and let the girl inside, head spinning from lack of sleep, physical exhaustion, and shock. A sprig of hope pounded in her chest.

  Is it possible I’m going to be a Grandma?

  9

  12:15 a.m. Sunday morning

  “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Water would be great. It’s still sweltering outside, and I’m afraid in my condition, the heat really bothers me.”

  Merry motioned to the couch. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.” Forcing her steps to remain normal, Merry grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. In seconds, she was back in the living room. “Here you go.”

  Savannah took a tentative sip. “Thanks. Oh my, Mrs. Hall! What happened to your hands?”

  “Oh, I’m not very good at…doing certain things around the house myself. It’s nothing. Banged up my knuckles while packing.”

  “You’re moving?”

  “Yes. Decided it was time to make some changes in my life. Next Saturday will be the last day I spend here.”

  “That makes me feel a bit better. When I walked in and saw how empty it was, I thought maybe you’d sold a bunch of stuff—you know—to make ends meet?”

  “My husband was an accountant. I assure you I’m financially sound.”

  Savannah smiled knowingly and nodded. “Listen, again, I’m sorry to come over here so late, but I really need to talk to you. My sleep schedule is all mixed up nowadays. Looks like yours is too.”

  Merry swallowed hard and sat on the opposite end of the couch. She had to force her gaze to remain on Savannah’s wide eyes, rather than her stomach. Unable to wait any longer, she asked, “Is this about Joshua?”

  Do I dare hope—part of my Joshua lives on?

  “Yes. I’ve been holding on to it for months now, second-guessing myself each time I picked up the phone to call you. I wanted to give you enough time to grieve before I…”

  Merry tried to keep her voice light, soft. She let her gaze fall to Savannah’s stomach. “It’s okay, honey. I think I might already know what it is.”

  Savannah’s eyes widened, and then a sad smile crossed her lips. “Oh, no, do you think? This isn’t…I mean…oh, goodness. This isn’t Joshua’s baby.”

  The emotional blow was so painful it felt like someone kicked her right in the solar plexus. Merry dug her nails into her palms, forcing herself not to show any outward emotion. Voice tight, she responded. “So then what brought you to my neck of the woods so late?”

  Clearing her throat, Savannah took another drink of water. She reached into the purse at her feet and pulled out a spiral notebook. “Two weeks before Joshua passed, he showed up at my apartment. I was surprised because I hadn’t seen him in over a year, and was shocked at his appearance. He looked so healthy, like he’d traveled back in time to high school. You know, right before his accident? He’d put on weight, got some color back…”

  Merry interrupted, “Yes, I’m well aware. Go on.”

  Savannah’s voice hitched as tears hung in the back of her throat. “I sort of freaked out, excited to see him clean and sober, but kind of afraid of him at the same time. I mean, I was, and still am, seeing someone else.” Savannah patted her belly. “I thought maybe Joshua wanted to get back together.”

  Did Joshua try to resurrect their relationship and Savannah shot him dow
n? Is that what sent him back to the needle?

  Merry couldn’t stop the words from flying out of her mouth. “And did he?”

  Savannah shook her head. “No, he didn’t. He came to apologize for all the mess he put me through. He asked me to forgive him for some of the nastier things that went down between the two of us before we broke up. Said making amends to those he’d harmed was all part of the nineth step to recovery.”

  “You came to my house six months after he died, in the middle of the night, to tell me that?”

  Tears sprang into Savannah’s eyes at the harsh tone. “No, I came to give you this,” she whispered, sliding the binder over to Merry. “I can’t even begin to imagine how hard all this is on you, and I’m so very sorry to dredge up painful memories. But I made a promise to Joshua that night to not only keep this notebook, but give it to you if something ever happened to him. He made me swear.”

  For a moment, Merry felt lightheaded. She stared at the blue cover, the words To Hell and Back: One High at a Time scrawled across the front in Joshua’s handwriting.

  “After I agreed, he calmed down a bit. He told me how he’d been clean for months and then took me outside and showed me his new motorcycle. Joshua tried to take me for a ride, but I told him I couldn’t, since I was pregnant. He said he loved working at his dad’s office. He seemed so, well, not exactly happy, but at peace. I finally got my nerve up to ask him what was in the notebook, and why he wanted me to watch it. He got this really strange look on his face. He said the less I knew the better.”

  Blood pounded in Merry’s ears, making Savannah’s words seem mumbled and distant. She couldn’t stop staring at Joshua’s scribble. In a low whisper, she asked, “What took you so long?”