by Angela White
“I’d like that.”
“Good. Find us a tavern where no one has ever heard of the Brady family.”
“She’s got branches in the next three towns to the west and south,” Douglas confided.
“Just drive until we’re away from her spies,” I ordered, shifting to find a comfortable spot. “Wake me up when you can’t feel her eyes on us anymore.”
Douglas started to voice a protest as he considered how unhappy my mother would be with the unapproved change in schedule. “Maybe we should call–”
“We’re not running away or plotting against her,” I interrupted. “We’re stealing a little happiness. I’ve been told there’s nothing wrong with that as long as no one gets hurt and both people are willing.”
Douglas smiled and eased us into the passing lane where he would make better time. “Yes, sir.”
Douglas was talkative once I got a few shots into him, but he still didn’t say much that I couldn’t have eventually figured out on my own after a tour like this. Until his eyes were bloodshot, not a single bad word came out of his mouth, but as the alcohol wore down his inhibitions, his pager beeped, scaring both of us. If not for that call, I may not have made progress. He had sensed what I’d brought him here for, I think.
“Be back,” Douglas grunted, going to the payphone to return the call.
I waited nervously, hoping it wasn’t another lesson in Mary’s control. I wanted to check on Angie after the events of the day, but I couldn’t. Mary knew her cover was off. If I made one wrong move here, she would come down on me hard. I had to be very, very careful.
Douglas dropped heavily back into the booth with a loud belch and a low mutter that I couldn’t be certain of. It sounded like he’d said ‘history repeating’.
“What?” I asked.
“They’ll make it.”
The call had been an update. Bean and Angel had survived. They would be in the hospital for a while and their eldest son, Zack, would run their business. According to what my mother wanted, I was sure. Zack wasn’t going to resist her while his parent’s lives were at stake. Chalk up another win for Mother Brady.
I had a lot of questions for Douglas, but only a few that mattered. I asked one now, before he got too drunk to provide the details that I was hoping for.
“What did he do wrong? What was my dad’s mistake?”
Douglas grimaced, focusing on me in sullen resentment. While I was searching for a way to force him to answer, he started speaking.
“Your pop made a bad deal. His mistake was believing that your momma would honor her end of it.”
Douglas emptied his warm beer and I flagged down the waitress for refills.
“What was the deal?”
Douglas belched. “He made her promise that the gypsy would never have to prostitute herself again for food or rent. In return, he agreed to stay away from her and be loyal to his marriage. He did it for four years and then he split. Once he found out about–”
“Wait,” I interrupted. “My parents were married for ten years before he split. My mother told all of us kids that they…”
Douglas shook his head.
Lies. All lies.
“She already had kids, like your sister will while she’s on her next couple of marriages. Some women are hard to get rid of.”
“Step sister?” I both asked and corrected.
Douglas belched again. “Yep. That Brady name comes from the first husband. Right son of a bitch, he was. When that blew up, she went after your dad. He was engaged to Judy then.”
“But my dad didn’t want her either, right?” I guessed. I’d had years to imagine what happened. Another woman always came into those scenarios. “He fought his parents and they switched it to Mary, hoping it would satisfy him.”
“She waged a war when she found out he was in love with Frona,” Douglas stated. “Mary didn’t understand how he could love someone who sold herself. She didn’t understand having to survive.”
“What happened to make them all hate each other?” I asked, then took a small sip of my beer.
“Mary sent Georgie in to be Frona’s white knight. By the time your dad found out, she had his family under her thumb. If he had taken any action, Frona would have been treated to what Bean and Angel…” Douglas realized how loud his voice was and stopped, glancing around.
“Please,” I begged. “I need these details.”
Douglas grimaced again and blew out another belch. “Without money to help her, your dad lost. Frona fell for the lines and got engaged to Georgie. Your dad couldn’t watch them. He knew what Georgie was really like, but so did Frona. They were both at his first wife’s funeral. Your dad refused to stay, but he also couldn’t interfere or Mary would retaliate. Man, did he want your mother dead! In the end, he took off and made everyone think he was a coward who ran out on his family.”
“Was he removed?” I asked, reasonably positive of the answer.
“I’ve always wondered that,” Douglas admitted.
We waited for the waitress to set the drinks down, neither of us interested in her flirting. I could almost feel her wondering if we were gay.
Might be easier if I was, I thought. I now understood why my dad had left, but it still hurt that he hadn’t taken me along. The wound of having a missing father slowly began festering into having a dead one. It was worse this way, because I would never be able to talk to him, to tell him I would have run too, that I could accept him abandoning me. If he were dead, it did me no good to keep carrying the weight of it, but I wasn’t sure how to make it go away.
I leaned forward. “What does Mary Brady fear the most?”
“You,” Douglas shot back instantly. “She’s terrified of you remembering life before your dad left. She fears that freedom…the magic.”
That implied we had been happy. I frowned as an old memory surfaced in a vague, shifting flash. Floating flowers were all I could make out. I shoved it aside for my next question.
“Am I dangerous to her? Why?”
Douglas took another healthy swallow. I assumed he was trying to find the words. We were past censoring now, as far as I was concerned.
“You’re not like the other Brady’s,” he answered, clumsily banging his cup down. The previous pint was taking effect. “They’d follow you, if you can challenge her and win. If you can’t win, you have no power–forever.”
“What can I do? “I asked dejectedly, hoping it sounded right as my own swimmy buzz hit.
“You’ve got three choices, boy. You can give in, fight, or run. That’s all any of us can do,” Douglas muttered drunkenly, surveying the suds at the bottom of his glass. “I gave in. Your father ran. Maybe fighting is the only way to keep your balls.”
Hungover, Douglas grunted at me the next morning when I kicked his bed in our hotel room. I grinned and cheerfully headed for the bathroom as if I didn’t have the same problem.
“We leave in an hour. My tour continues.”
Douglas rolled over to regard me balefully. “And I thought you had balls, kid.”
I chuckled. “Balls without brains are useless.”
I shut the bathroom door, going over the new plans that I’d still been working on as dawn arrived. I hadn’t been to sleep yet. I would do that in the car, something I enjoyed. When we got to the next town, I would stay the night in the hotel before meeting with anyone. I needed more time to go over things. Moving up my timeline had to be handled carefully. It meant Angie and I would be on the run for over a year instead of the six months that I’d first estimated. If I decided we couldn’t do it for that long, then I would have to give in to Mary and fully join her awful business. When Angie hit eighteen, if she still wanted to go, we would. My final option was the police. I could offer to testify in exchange for protection, but again, Angie’s age held us hostage. We couldn’t step into a courtroom for years yet.
I thought of how Douglas had said he thought I would fight, but he didn’t understand what Angie meant to me. What
I had accused Angie of trying to do, I could now do to myself–if I got to fall asleep at night with her in my arms. I would give up anything for her now. I assumed that was a part of growing up. Why else would the choice hurt so much?
I spent the next weeks touring businesses, meeting relatives, and making connections, but I mostly learned how crooked my mother was. I acted like the honored heir and there were no repeats of the van in the pond. By the end of January, I had been to 5 states and visited 12 businesses, with a lot more of each on my list. On the last day of month, we arrived in Lancing, and everything changed again. I was never ready when life did that to me, and this time was no exception.
I could feel the tension before Doulas opened the car door. The four men waiting in front of the small general store wore dirty jeans, thick coats, and expressions ranging from anger to fear. I wasn’t welcome.
The impression was reinforced when none of the men echoed my polite nod and smile. As I approached, with Douglas behind, it was as if I could hear their thoughts.
Come to collect the payment early.
Must be tired of short payments if she sent Douglas and the momma’s boy.
Bet he still doesn’t know. How blind can he be?
Embarrassment came and I lifted my chin, straightened my shoulders. Mary’s words as we left flashed into my mind.
Observe and report, as needed. You understand, Douglas?
Of course, ma’am.
That meant there might be trouble here. As I felt their gazes go over my nice clothes and straight teeth in resentful jealousy, it occurred to me that by cheating Mary, they were also cheating me. I didn’t like that. If these men were guilty of something, I would find out what it was.
As I got nearer, maybe the uncles realized I could be a problem because fake smiles and handshakes emerged to greet me.
“Marcie!”
“Been a long time.”
“Man, do you look like your dad!” one of the others commented.
I saw my uncle Bobby give a curt glower that instantly made me wonder if he’d been the one to remove my dad.
“Wow, have you grown up!”
“Come on inside, Marcie.”
“Get him a drink.”
I acted as though I was the green kid they were expecting and let them lead me into a room set up with food, drinks, and low music. I refused the girl for my lap, making the men all snicker as I chose a beer instead.
Douglas stayed by the door, talking to my uncle Bobby, who was in charge of things here. Bobby was accompanied by a large black and white dog with a long, thick tail that stung when it was whipped against you. The dog was clearly excited to have company. It wouldn’t stop dancing around their feet, hitting both men with its tail.
Tiring of the dog’s enthusiasm, Bobby slammed his meaty fist down onto the dog’s skull.
The animal yelped and scrambled away from the door before another blow could come.
The other men snickered and voiced their approval, even Douglas, but I didn’t. I stared out the window to keep anyone from viewing my anger.
When the dog hid behind my chair, I wondered if it was a usual hiding place or if the animal could sense that I would never do that.
The rest of the welcome party was uneventful, boring even because I refused to get falling down drunk with the uncles. As they picked females, I left with one of the younger kids as my guide.
After I toured the grimy store and the mostly empty stock room, the kid made an excuse to leave and I was completely on my own. I went to where I assumed the private rooms were located, hoping any guards stationed there would let me through without asking questions or alerting anyone.
They did, but only because they were passed out on the ground in front of the door. The bottles and cards nearby implied they had both lost the drinking game.
I slid inside and followed stairs down to an old cellar that appeared to be the base of operations for this business. As soon as I saw the girls in the moldy room, I understood what I’d stumbled into, but at that moment, I didn’t know if it was another part of the illegal businesses that Mary had going. My outrage woke.
I saw the bruises and the chains on their ankles, and my stomach flipped.
The back of this slavery room held beds and the men in them jumped up to explain, but I stomped back outside in blind fury. Even my mother wouldn’t do that!
Douglas was waiting for me by the car. I hadn’t seen him leave the party.
I didn’t like the expression he wore as I joined him.
“What does she want me to do about it?” I asked.
“She wants them…corrected,” Douglas told me gravely. “You wouldn’t handle Frona over the drinking. Now, you have to do this.”
I stood there for almost five minutes, debating. I had more than enough anger to give out a correction for something like this, but would it hurt me inside? Hitting Frona would have.
No, I realized, letting that hard part of me come to the front. These men needed to be corrected. Frona had needed help that I couldn’t give her.
“If you don’t–”
“Shut up,” I ordered mildly, thinking it through. Once I did this, the rest of the family would know. I would become her enforcer, and in the future, if she wanted a female corrected, I would have to do it.
Not if you leave, a voice inside whispered. Just go now.
Could we do that?
All these thoughts and more continued to run through my mind as I went back to that cellar and expressed my rage at the unfairness of life.
Douglas observed in approval as I drew blood against people who weren’t even allowed to fight back, and I mourned my humanity.
Afterwards, as I struggled not to throw up in the car, I understood the new place my mother had pushed me into. A few years of beating on people would turn me into her. And that, I couldn’t ever stand for.
Angie and I were going to run away–now.
Once I made that hard choice, I didn’t question it or second-guess myself. It was the only solution. I had a few thousand dollars saved, and I’d made a few connections over the years. It would have to be enough.
What I struggled over was finding a way to come home early without raising suspicion. How could I make that happen? Why would Mary want me to… I had information, didn’t I? I knew who wasn’t paying their share and who hadn’t shown the proper respect. All I had to do was find the right piece of information and then get her to need it firsthand, instead of the daily phone reports through Douglas.
Douglas…
I looked toward the main hotel room, where Douglas was sinking into the bottle I had told him to stop for. It had been a perfect thing to do if I were going to set him up.
Douglas grunted in harsh amusement at something on the television, and I frowned deeply. Douglas wasn’t a good person. I knew that for certain, but could I really throw him under the bus? Was I already corrupt enough to do that?
The answer wasn’t comforting.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Risk vs Reward
February
Marc
I put the receiver to my ear, heart pounding.
“Hello.”
“Hello, mother.”
“Marcus. How is your tour going?”
I could hear her rustling through papers on her desk. “It’s educational.”
“Good.”
“There are some points I’d like to discuss with you.”
She would expect me to be unhappy about the secrets she’d kept and about uncle Bean’s treatment. All he’d asked was that the drugs not flow through because of their kids. When he had discovered what was in the crates on his rear loading dock, he’d called and threatened Mary with reporting her to the FBI if she didn’t let him leave the business.
“Do you need another demonstration?”
“Actually, I’d like to discuss it in person…”
Mary caught my note of caution and asked, “Are you at the hotel?”
“Yes.�
��
“Ask Douglas to step outside.”
“A bit obvious, don’t you think?”
She hadn’t been expecting that. I had just implied that I didn’t trust Douglas enough to even let him know I had a secret to discuss. He was currently throwing up, so I doubted he was listening. Even if he was, Douglas was my mother’s spy, not her enemy.
“Your timing is convenient.”
“I’m not sure how you mean that,” I answered honestly.
“Very well. You’ll come home and run the restaurant while Georgie and I go to Sterns. We’re having production problems at the diner there.”
I tried not to sound relieved as I replied, “We’ll talk before you go, right?”
“Is it that serious?”
“Yes. I wouldn’t ask to cut the tour short if it wasn’t. I understand the stakes.”
That should be enough to convince her I was serious, but in case it wasn’t, I snapped into my usual monotone and said, “But of course, I’ll do what I’m told.”
The pause told me I might have overacted it, but Douglas helped me by yelling, “I’ve never puked so much in my life!”
“I see.”
Mary’s tone was a bit ugly and I had to bury my sympathy for Douglas. She would find out in time that I’d lied. Until then, I would remember that it was for a good cause and he wasn’t a good person, no matter how much we might have in common.
“Put Douglas on the phone.”
I held the receiver out, mouthing, Sorry. She called while you were in the bathroom.
Another lie, as I’d called her, but I was counting on neither of them covering that as Douglas shakily held the phone to his ear. He was even greener than when he’d woken up and run into the bathroom.
I hadn’t slept yet. I couldn’t until I saw this through.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I stepped outside to smoke a cigarette, listening through the paper-thin door as Douglas tried to explain being drunk.
“No, ma’am. I shouldn’t have… Of course! I won’t ever– No, ma’am.”
I scanned the parking lot, ignoring a car of older women studying me from the gas pumps next door. One of them was cute, but I’d already been working on the female I wanted too long to be distracted by anyone else. Girls at school had tried to get my attention when Jeanie and I broke up, and now, I always received flirting while on the road. I hadn’t found a reason to give in yet. None of them could compare to what I would have if I could be patient.
