Toxic

by A. C. Bextor

  “What the fuck, man?” Patrick stills as he enters the living room and finds me. Lynda hasn’t let go of my hand, and she gives me a gentle squeeze in excitement right before she corrects Patrick’s tone. I was the last person he expected to see here.

  “Patrick Collins. Watch your mouth, you know better than to talk like that. Your sister and her friend are here and besides, that’s no way to greet your friend.”

  Patrick puts his head down. “Sorry, Mama.”

  Sadey comes running out of Mace’s room, and runs smack into Patrick’s legs knocking him off balance and sucking the tension from the situation. Lynda laughs and Patrick sighs in complete exasperation. Point made. “Exasperating” suits the little shit.

  “Come on now, Sadey girl, I’ve asked you to stop doin’ that. My knee is still hurting from the last time you knocked your damn head into it.”

  She stalls her motion and looks up to him, voicing her thought. “Sorry. I think you’re wrong.” She gasps. “It hurt my head more than your knee.” She rubs her head remembering the tragic injury she must have suffered at the influences of his spiteful knee.

  He smiles at her as he picks her up, sets her upside down on her back across his shoulder. Her shirt drops, exposing her belly button, so he uses it as an opportunity to tickle her silly. She lets out a high pitched squeal that makes me narrow my eyes to seek comfort.

  Patrick finally has enough control over her to speak. “Welcome back, pal. I wasn’t expecting…”

  “I know. Just got in town and thought I would stop by to say hi.”

  His face falls. “Hi? Fuck no, you’re not just sayin’ hi. You’re staying, right?”

  “Maybe…” I don’t have any answers right now. The room is consumed in chaos, and I can barely think.

  Behind me, though, I feel a tug on my jeans. Lynda smiles warmly at the sight of Mace trying to garner my attention. I turn around to see her smiling, still wearing crumbs on her face, and looking at me like I’m the biggest giant she’s ever met.

  “What’s yer name?”

  “Neil.”

  “What? Neil’s a naaaaame? I thought that was when we sit on our knees in church and Father Marcus comes around and says a blessing over us.” She pauses to look from me to her mother for reassurance. “Mom, isn’t that a Neil?”

  Lynda rolls her eyes at my new friend. “Annoying” and Patrick continues cradling “Exasperating” in his arms. He’s grown, as well. He’s much taller and his large build remains, but instead of baby fat I can see the growing definition of his arms and chest as he puts a very unhappy Sadey back down on her feet. She doesn’t leave his side, though, just wraps her arms around his lower leg and seats herself on his foot as she continues to laugh.

  Lynda grabs Mace’s shoulder and pulls her away from me and back into her, looking down, as she runs her hands through Mace’s hair. “Neil is a name. Just leave it be. You and Sadey go play in your room. Sadey Marie, take my scarf off Scotch and put it back in my closet where you found it, please.”

  Mace smiles at me and turns to Sadey, who is continuing to sit on Patrick’s foot, still attempting to gain his attention. He tries to ignore her, but he’s losing patience as any teenager would. “Sadey, you heard my mom. Go away, and leave my damn dog alone. If I have to tell you that again I’m going to spank your ass.”

  Sadey glares at him with an open mouth as her little freckled face registers his threat. Then she stands, whips her long auburn hair for added drama, and turns to stomp away with Mace at her heals, leaving us in peace for a few minutes.

  Patrick and I catch up briefly as Lynda finishes making us lunch. She makes me three sandwiches to start with. She remembers my past and this woman's attempting to make it up to me over lunch. She’s got the heart of a saint and I’m struggling with the attention because I know I’m not worthy of her gift of friendship.

  “Where are you staying now, Neil?” I don’t want to answer Lynda’s question. I’m a great liar, but she can read it for what it is.

  “I‘m staying at the Anchors Wave. I just got back in town.”

  “You’re not staying there, so you need to go and close your ticket. You’re stayin’ here until we decide what happens next.”

  “Ma’… err … Lynda, I can’t. I’m sorry. I’ll find something. I’m not puttin’ you out. It’s not a bad place to stay, so I’m fine.”

  “Nonsense, don’t argue with me. If it makes you feel better I have a long list of things around here that need fixed, so if you would rather think of this stay as a job, Warren and I will accept your work as a form of rent payment.” She doesn’t phrase it as a question because she knows I’ve no choice but to accept.

  “Okay.”

  “Take my car, and while you and Patrick are getting your things I will clear a room for you here. Dinner is at five thirty, don’t be late.” She smiles at me and just as fast shoots a glare to her son. “Patrick you’re still grounded.”

  “Whatever, Mom. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Yes, you did. You told that gentleman your hands were full and you couldn’t get the door for him! Manners, Patrick Collins, use them.”

  “He had just spanked his daughter’s ass for no reason, Mother. All she did was tell him she was hungry.”

  Lynda rolls her eyes. “When you grow up and have children of your own then come to me and tell me how you’re an expert, until then, you will act like a civilized human being to every citizen. Or you won’t and you can stay grounded forever.”

  “Whatever. He was an ass and deserved much more than that for touching his daughter the way he did.”

  Lynda is getting tired of his arguing, so after she reaches into her purse, she hands me the keys. “Go and do what I told you. Take him with you, when he’s grounded and has to be home all the time I’m unsure who has it worse - me or him.” She smiles at me softly, trying not to laugh.

  Patrick and I take Lynda’s car to the motel. I don’t have much stuff, so it doesn’t take us long to get my things and check out. I’ve still got the money that sad woman gave me for my services yesterday, so I plan to save it and use it when I need something later.

  On the way to the motel, Patrick had asked me how long I was planning to stay. I told him I didn’t know and then he told me about the ‘Lights of Peril Motorcycle Club’ and that his mom’s friend, Doc, was still running it.

  Apparently Doc and his mom were very good friends and Doc still spends time at the house when Warren isn’t home. Doc had taken a liking to Patrick years ago, but I already knew that. Patrick talked about him the entire way home as well, telling me stories of the brothers and how envious he was of the bond they shared with each other. Maybe when I get older the club would be an option for me, too.

  Walking back in the house, Patrick and I find it’s the exact same chaos we left it in an hour ago. The girls are running around screaming with Scotch close on their tails and Lynda is in the kitchen cooking.

  Fuck, my head hurts. “Can you ever just shut them off?”

  Right then I make a mental note that if I find someone and settle down, I will never breed girls. Boys don’t scream, we play destructively, but damn, we’re at least quiet about it.

  Shit.

  “Shut them off? I can I guess, but Mom doesn’t always appreciate duct tape to the mouth.” He punches my arm while walking past me and into his bedroom leaving me standing in the doorway.

  I chance another glimpse at the girls, who are now playing in the living room dressed in tutu’s, taking bows to each other for an imaginary performance well done.

  Yep, that solidifies it for me. I will not reproduce any type of female genitalia.

  Fuck that.

  Warren never made it home for dinner or after. He called Lynda as we were setting the table to tell her he was going to be late at the office because something came up. She didn’t seem to mind at all. She just told us to remove his place setting.

  I heard her tell him about my return, and although she kept
her voice quiet in hopes I wasn’t listening, I knew he wasn’t over the moon about keeping me. Lynda didn’t give him a choice this time. She just told him how it was going to happen and that she had already given me the spare room.

  Over dinner I find that monster number two, Sadey Lyons, lives across the street. Her family moved here a few months ago and she’s over here every single day. Lynda says her parents are a little pretentious, and she doesn’t want Mace exposed to them for long periods of time so she lets them play here every day instead.

  Thinking to myself wordlessly, I need to pick up some ear plugs if I’m going to live under this roof until school starts and I can get out of this house more often. With no money and no car I’m going to be trapped in the same vicinity as these girls and I will need to escape the only way I can.

  Fuck, I hope my bedroom door has a lock. If not, it’s about to.

  Lynda also clues me in on things that need to be done around the house. The entire time she’s explaining everything, I feel the eyes of Mace Cash silently searching me as she sizes me up over dinner. I’m not sure if she thinks I’m some stranger invading her space or if she’s looking at me imagining that I will be her next customer in the store she and Sadey have made her room to be.

  Negative on both counts, little one.

  I’m not a stranger, and I sure as fuck will not play with five year old little girls and become a frequent customer at “Shace’s Drug and Auto”. I didn’t even inquire on how that name makes any fuckin’ sense. I’ve never been around a five year old girl, let alone two of them at one time, so I’m guessing that’s just normal, healthy behavior.

  Finally, I tire of her stare. I turn my eyes from Lynda and direct them at Mace, who pales a bit under my glower. Lynda notices and clears her throat as she tries to give me a wordless warning to be nice. I’ve lost patience with Mace four times already today, and I’ve remained calm, but apparently by this time Lynda sees I’m strung out and tired.

  Mace bats her eyes, using her spoon she fills her mouth with peas and asks with a mouthful of food. “So, do you, ummm, live here now?”

  “Yes.”

  She swallows hard. “Forever?”

  I smile at her, trying to get her to relax. “For now.”

  Her eyes widen in disbelief. “Okay.”

  I nod back at her, willing her not to continue to talk to me for at least a few minutes. No such luck of course.

  “Did you color your arms with markers?”

  She’s referring to my tattoos. I let my only acquaintance in Florida draw up a picture and tattoo it on the inside my forearm. The observant little shit is still staring, waiting for me to answer, what to her is an important question.

  “No, my friend did it.”

  Her eyes widen. “What? You let your friend’s draaaaaw on you? My mom would spank me if I let Sadey draw on me. When Sadey cut my hair, my mom sent her home and I had to sit in my room and think about what I had done. I don’t know what that meant because I didn’t do anything wrong, Sadey did. She told me she wanted to make me look like a princess, but Hem said I looked like a cheeewaawwaa”

  How the fuck did we get here?

  “Well, I’m older than you and I let him do it because it’s what he does.”

  “That’s good.” Approval – from a five year old … touching.

  She stops talking to me since Lynda has her attention for the moment by adding more peas to her plate. This kid can eat.

  Then her examination of me continues. “How old are you?”

  I put my fork down with a heavy hand, but it doesn’t intimidate her at all. “Seventeen.” I’m old enough to beat your ass if you don’t stop with the questions.

  “That’s old.”

  “Maybe.”

  “My dog’s name is Scotch, did you know that?”

  “Yes.” Patrick laughs beside me, continuing to shovel in his food knowing I can’t turn her off. He’s enjoying every second of this torture. Traitor.

  “You can play with him if you want. You can bring him to the store later. Pets are allowed as long as they don’t pee or poop while you’re shopping.”

  No. That won’t happen. Don’t even give that another thought, sweetheart. “Alright.”

  She looks back to her food again, shoveling in more peas, in silence … for a second.

  “What’s your circle on your face?”

  What? “Circle?”

  She points to her lip, but her fork she was using in the same hand stabs her face – she winces, but continues. “Yeah, on your face.” She points to her lip, still jabbing the fork in her face.

  “That’s a piercing.”

  “Like my ears?” Again, she moves the same hand to hear ear, this time tangling the fork in her hair. Oh God, kid. Just stop.

  I’m losing my mind. “Yes, like your ears, but this one is in my lip and I like it. Anything else you want to know about?”

  She opens her, once again, full mouth, but this time Lynda intercepts her – thank hell. “Mace, he’s going to be here for a while, so maybe you want to give him a rest and eat your dinner while it’s warm.”

  “Alright, mom.”

  Thank fuck, me and monster number one seem to have called a momentary truce of silence.

  ~~~~~

  After dinner, I wanted to sleep. Between travel, reuniting with my friends, and dealing with those girls, I am emotionally spent.

  A few hours later I’m in my new room, which is nothing more than a square of empty space with a bed, but it’s enough to keep me happy because it’s mine. I’m laying down on my back, arm tucked under my head like a pillow, in the dark thinking about how good my day has been with Lynda and Patrick. My belly is full, I have a roof over my head, and I won’t have to sell myself out to keep it.

  In the quiet, I faintly hear a stirring near my bed. Thinking its Scotch, I move my hand in the dark to pet him. It’s then I hear a giggle. Shit, monster one has found where I sleep. This is not good.

  “What are you doin’ in here, sweetheart?”

  She gives me an answer I’m fairly certain she rehearsed all the way to my room. “Came to say hi.”

  “Hi, now go to bed.”

  “But I’m not tired.”

  “I am. Go to bed.”

  She’s on her knees resting her forearms on the mattress beside me. I can see her little eyes searching for my face in the darkness.

  “But I’m scared.”

  “Of what? Go to bed.” I smile as I repeat the only words I hope she hears. Maybe if I annoy her, as much as she’s exasperated me all day, she’ll grow tired and leave me the hell alone.

  “Did you know that monsters live in the hall outside my door? Patrick says they’ll come in my room at night to get me if I don’t clean his room for him and I forgot to do that today. I escaped before they got there tonight, but I can’t go back to my room alone. Can you pleeeeeease come with me and make sure they’re gone?”

  Patrick, you’re an asshat. Even I can see she’s just a little girl - damn.

  “I guess I could do that for you, but once I toss you there, you’re stayin’ in there.”

  Her voice turns hopeful. “I promise.”

  Leaning up off the bed, I grab her little body in my arms. I shift her to my back so she can cling onto me like the monkey she is, and we make our way back to her room; which is down the hall and to the left.

  Her light is on and I can see that before she came to me, she attempted to form a trail of stuffed animals on her floor, using them as steps so she didn’t touch the carpet with her feet. With the terror in her mind, she’s created a moat with monsters and these stuffed animals were the rocks saving her from waking them.

  I sit her down on the bed and turning, I find a nightlight that’s been placed on the floor under the electrical outlet. I’m even more pissed off now wondering if Patrick did this to help scare her into helping him clean his God damn room. Lazy fucker.

  Bending down, I put it back in the wall socket and turn it on
.

  Forcing her to look at me, I point to her savior. “This light here, it keeps monsters away. Did you know that?"

  She shakes her head ‘no’ at me as she still looks terrified, even with the overhead light on.

  I stand slowly as not to continue to scare her. “Darlin’, tell me about these monsters that live in your hall. Are they big?”

  “Yes.”

  “How big are they? Are they big like me?”

  “Yes.”

  I move to sit beside her on the bed, and tuck her in tightly under the covers. It’s then that I notice she has a dark black mark on her tiny forearm. I know what this is, and I’m having a hard time suppressing a laugh. “Mace, what’s this?” I point to it and let my finger rest on the new mark so she doesn’t get embarrassed and have a chance to snatch it from my view.

  She’s not embarrassed in the least. “That’s my sign.”

  “You’re sign?”

  “Yeah, it’s my mark.”

  “Do you mean it’s your tattoo?”

  “Yep. That’s what I said. Do you like it?”

  Letting out an amused sigh, I smile understanding that if Mace Cash is anything, she’s intuitive. She’s drawn tribal markings, with what looks to have been a permanent marker, that mirror mine - running the same span in length, in comparison to her arm, as my own.

  With her other hand, she grabs my finger that’s still resting on her small arm and wraps her fingers around mine. “If you have one, Mama can’t be mad if I have one, too.” She holds her ‘mark’ up to mine so she can compare the two. “We match.”

  Holy fuck, this kid is something.

  I tuck her arms under her covers and nestle her in the only way I know how. “You’re a lucky girl, wanna know why?”

  “I know why.”

  Her response surprises me. “You do?”

  “Yepppp, now I have two brothers.” She lifts two fingers to her face, touching them to her mouth, showing me she knows what the number two means. “When Patrick is mean to me when Mom’s not around, you can knock him in the back of the head like she does when he hurts her feelings.”