by C. S. Lakin
Levi got out of the car and Simon stood next to him, the driver door still open, and exhaled. “Okay, I’m gonna reach in and put it in Neutral. Get behind and be ready to start pushing.”
Levi got into position and Simon proceeded. By the time he slammed the door shut and ran to join Levi, the car was already moving at a slow, steady clip.
“Push, Levi!”
They leaned into the rear of the car and it picked up speed. By the time it approached the edge of the embankment, it rolled at about twenty miles per hour. To Simon’s relief, it didn’t catch on the small shrubs on the cliff’s edge but plowed through them and tumbled gracefully, almost silently, down the hillside. Simon stood there listening as the sounds of crashing and rattling stopped. He could tell the car hadn’t tumbled very far. But it was far enough. Who knew how long it would be before someone found it—maybe months or years. The police wouldn’t have a clue where to search and Simon doubted anyone ever came up to this piece of property except some couples making out—and they wouldn’t be taking any side trips to mosey on down a steep hill.
The energy drained from Simon’s body, leaving him as weak as a fluttering leaf. It took every ounce of strength to walk back to the Honda, get in, and drive away, keeping to the speed limit. He calmed his shaking hands, now freed of the gloves, gripped the wheel the whole drive back to his home, the place where he used to live. Now, he would have to beat it to his apartment, act for all the world like he had no clue where Shane was, tell whoever asked he just hadn’t seen him. At some point the police would come around asking questions, but he’d tell them Shane often took off for days at a time, and no, he hadn’t said anything about going away. Or maybe he should mention Shane had been planning a trip, had packed a suitcase, but never told him where he was going. Simon didn’t even know if Shane had a family around, or if they’d care enough to search for him, should they think he’d gone missing. Regardless, Simon knew he needed time to figure this out. But he had time. He’d come up with a good story, practice it over and over in his head, make it come out innocent and easy. No one would ever suspect he had killed Shane.
Killed. The realization of what they’d done hit Simon like a sledge to his head. They had killed someone. Maybe Levi would say the creep deserved it, but still . . . the thought hung over him like the blade of a guillotine. It was an accident. We never meant to kill him.
He repeated the words over and over in his head, filling his heart with reassurances. When he got to the house, he looked over at Levi.
“Don’t say a word. Not even to Dinah, okay? When she asks, just tell her we gave him a good beating and left. And tell her to keep her mouth shut.”
Levi nodded, and Simon thought he looked shocked, incoherent.
“Did you hear me, Levi?”
“Yes! But she wouldn’t say anything anyway.”
“Just make sure she doesn’t.”
Simon parked the car back in its proper spot, got out with Levi. “I’m going to ride my bike straight home. I don’t want to be here when dad gets back.”
“Okay.”
“Tell Dinah . . . well, tell her that creep’s never going to bother her again.”
Levi’s eyes unclouded. He focused on Simon. “Yeah. He sure won’t.”
Simon reached into his pocket. “Here,” he said, dropping Dinah’s necklace in Levi’s palm. Levi curled his fingers around it and nodded.
Simon went through the back gate, fetched his bike. As he rode home in the chill night, the air blew through his hair, dried the sweat off his head and face. Still, he felt a thin membrane coat his skin, a damp, penetrating layer of guilt that chilled him more than the coldest night ever could, saturating deep beneath his skin into his very bones, snuffing out the last smoldering ember of his soul, and Simon knew there it would stay, forever, to haunt him.
Jake threw the newspaper down and both Simon and Levi winced. A single overhead bulb lit the garage, bright, casting a damning spotlight on the headlines. Jake could barely contain the emotions fermenting in his gut like some toxic mass about to detonate from the faintest spark, and as much as it terrified him, he would get to the truth, if he had to tear his sons to pieces in the attempt.
“I want to hear it. The whole story. Now.” He looked first at Levi, who bit his lip and turned his face into hard steel. Jake could tell they’d both been smoking pot. “Simon.”
Jake waited only a second before he smashed his fist on the workbench. “I know you two have something to do with this.”
Simon threw his head back. “Right. You’re always blaming us for stuff. Just because Shane was my roommate. It’s like I told the police—I haven’t seen him in a couple of weeks. He comes and goes. He doesn’t have to tell me where—I’m not his mother.”
Jake knew that look, that tone, too well. Simon was lying. “I’m not buying it, Simon. And at some point the truth will get out, so better to tell me now, first. Before they haul the both of you to jail.”
Simon threw a glance at Levi and Jake saw the telltale flicker of fear in Levi’s eyes. He knew he’d get farther with his younger son. He made an effort to lower his voice, file the edge off. “Shane’s mother reported him missing. He was supposed to be home last weekend. And he didn’t cash his allowance check, which he never fails to do.” Jake added: “No doubt to buy all the drugs he passes around so freely.”
“Well, maybe he got caught up in some drug thing, a turf war with some gang. How would we know?’ Simon said.
“I’ll tell you what I do know,” Jake volleyed back. “You and Levi were talking the night he was last seen—right here, in this house. How you were going to go find Shane and beat him up.”
“What!” Levi yelled. “Where’d you hear that?”
Jake shut his mouth, waited.
Simon sneered and snorted breath out his nostrils. “Joey,” he said, the word hissing off his tongue like a curse. “He was listening outside Dinah’s door, but he couldn’t hear us. He made that up.”
“I’m not buying it, Simon. Maybe I should call the cops and have them come over and hear it from Joey directly . . .”
“Dad! You c-c-can’t.” Levi pleaded.
Jake leaned over the table and got close to Levi’s face. He almost whispered. “And why not?”
Levi threw a questioning look at Simon but his brother stood looking across the garage, fuming. “Okay, look. It was an accident. An accident!”
“What was?” Jake asked, keeping his voice even, although the confession sent him reeling. All his suspicion and fear and worry steamrolled over him, flattening him to where he could barely breathe, his lungs so crushed.
“Shane . . . hurt Dinah,” Levi said. “You re-remember that night you c-came home and Dinah’s face was all b-banged up? How she said she’d been h-hiking . . .”
Jake tried to suck in air but his lungs were still collapsed. Shock shook him to his core. Dinah! He had figured something bad had happened, but not involving his little girl. A moan escaped his lips as he stood there and grabbed the edge of the table.
“He p-picked her up from school one day, said he’d t-take her to the mall but instead t-took her up to M-mulholland—”
Jake did not want to hear this. He couldn’t bear it, Levi’s words bringing unthinkable images to his mind, images he wished he could ignite and burn away but knew they would remain fixed in his mind forever.
Simon cut Levi off, and his rage matched the intensity of Jake’s grief. “He raped her, Dad. And beat her unconscious when she tried to fight him off.”
Jake’s words came out paper thin. “You . . . you could have gone to the police, had him arrested.”
Levi laughed bitterly. “Yeah, like that would have d-done anything. His rich p-parents would have hired some s-s-smooth-talking lawyer and Dinah would have ended up hu-humiliated and accused of l-lying.”
Simon pointed a finger at Jake. “Listen—nobody is going to treat our sister like a whore and get away with it!” Levi nodded and Jake saw in that m
oment his sweet, malleable young boy turned into a sharp sword of vengeance.
“We knew you wouldn’t d-do anything. So we took m-matters into our own hands. But, D-dad. We never m-meant . . .”
Simon elbowed Levi. “Just shut up. We’ve already said too much.”
Jake grabbed Simon’s T-shirt at the neckline. “Never meant what! Where is Shane?”
He didn’t need to hear their answer; the guilt saturated their faces, unmistakably.
Tears pooled in Levi’s eyes. “When Sh-shane came back to town about a w-week later, we arranged to m-m-meet him . . . up where he’d t-t-aken . . .taken Dinah . . .”
Levi gulped, closed his mouth. Jake saw him fight back those tears, knew he held them in not from embarrassment but from wanting to validate, not decry, his actions.
Simon stamped his foot, clearly did not want Levi to tell, but Jake would get it out of them.
Levi drew in a long breath that quavered. He continued. “We b-beat him up. But I guess we . . . got c-carried away.”
Jake opened his mouth but nothing came out. All his energy drained and he wobbled on his feet. The words fluttered out his throat, like little moths winging to flame, to their doom. “You killed him . . .”
Levi looked at the floor but Simon met his gaze. “We carried the body to his car, then pushed it off the cliff. No one will find it—”
Jake’s knees gave way and he collapsed on the concrete garage floor. He buried his face in his hands, disbelieving. “Oh, God . . . oh, God . . .”
Jake groaned, unaware and uncaring whether his boys were standing there or had left. The moment muddled, miring him like quicksand, sucking him down, down.
He heard Levi’s voice hovering near him. “Dad. It’ll b-be okay. There’s n-no way anyone can p-point to us. We wore g-gloves. No one knew Shane r-raped Dinah—no one b-b-but us. There’d be no r-reason for anyone to think we h-had anything to do with it—even if they f-find the c-car. They’ll think he d-drove off the cliff. He had d-d-drugs in his blood. They’d blame it on the d-drugs, Dad.”
The room went silent. “Just get out,” Jake said. He listened but heard no footsteps. He raised his head from where he lay curled up on the ground, looked at Simon, who stood there, thinking.
“What about Joey?” Simon asked, his voice thick with disgust.
“What about him?” Jake asked.
“How are we gonna get him to keep his trap shut? He blabs about everything, and he’ll tell someone.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Jake offered.
Simon snorted. “Like that will shut him up? You know how holy and righteous he is. He feels it’s his god-given duty to report all sin. To make sure evildoers are punished for their crimes—”
“I said I’ll talk to him!” Jake yelled through his dry throat, parched like the rest of his body, thirsting for relief but knowing not a single drop would be found.
“Levi, let’s go,” Simon said, stomping toward the garage door.
Jake looked up, saw Levi nod. He wanted to ask them where they were going, was there anywhere to go, but he just sat there, long after his sons had left—no doubt to drink or get high on something, their feeble attempt at trying to dull the sharp blade of reality cutting into their flesh. His sons . . . He did not know them anymore, did not feel the slightest connection to them; whatever frail thread had tied them to him finally broke.
Jake’s thoughts drifted to Dinah, to her swollen, bruised face, the emptiness evident in her eyes this past week. Now her inexplicable action of cutting off her hair made sense. How violated she must feel! At that moment Jake wanted to run into the house and gather her up in his arms, his little girl in such trauma, but how could he? What could he say to her? How could he comfort her, make the hurt go away, return her to innocence again?
His own anger at that boy morphed into a guilty feeling of satisfaction in knowing he was dead and would never hurt her or anyone else ever again. But how could truly feel such sick pleasure? The law could have punished him, sent him to jail to serve his time, give him a chance at rehabilitation. But in Jake’s heart of hearts he knew the legal system rarely inculcated reform in the hearts of those intent on hurting others. No, he hated to admit it to himself but that rapist truly got what he deserved, knowing if he himself had confronted the boy, who knew how far he would have gone to teach him a lesson. It was not a stretch for him to imagine he might have killed Shane too.
Jake heard a noise, lifted his head. Joey took a step into the garage. Jake swiped his sleeve across his wet face, cleared his throat, got to his feet.
“Hey, sport. What’s up?”
Joey frowned. “Murder is a sin, Dad. God is going to punish Simon and Levi for what they did—you’ll see. Everything done in the dark will come to light.”
1993
Ordinary World
Came in from a rainy Thursday
On the avenue
Thought I heard you talking softly
I turned on the lights, the TV,
And the radio
Still I can't escape the ghost of you
What has happened to it all?
Crazy, some are saying
Where is the life that I recognize?
Gone away
Papers in the roadside
Tell of suffering and greed
Here today, forgot tomorrow
Ooh, here besides the news
Of holy war and holy need
Ours is just a little sorrowed talk
But I won't cry for yesterday
There's an ordinary world
Somehow I have to find
And as I try to make my way
To the ordinary world
I will learn to survive
—Duran Duran
Reuben scanned the bleachers, finally spotting Dinah’s waving arm, signaling him over. He kept hold of Lindsay’s hand as they wove through the mob of parents and friends of the graduates. Being out on the school field, seeing all the kids in their caps and gowns, brought a rush of memory back to his own graduation three years ago. He hadn’t stepped foot on his high school campus since that day, had put it all behind him.
As they climbed the metal steps up to where his family sat, he felt a strange sensation come over him, as if in that moment he had arrived at adulthood. He didn’t know how it had happened— the act of growing up. It was something he strove for year after year as a teenager, that nebulous peak of attainment always receding, hard to reach. And now, here he was, feeling for all the world like an adult, even though he’d been living on his own and pulling his own weight for so long now. Maybe it was seeing these kids, their faces so young, their lives spread out before them, the unknown, that gave him this perspective.
He looked at his family—everyone sitting together, even Simon. Of course, Levi was down on the grass by the stage, lining up with the rest of the seniors. But Reuben could not recall a time ever when they’d all been together in close proximity, other than Rachel’s funeral, and in one sense they had been anything but together, each shattered in pieces and roiling in sorrow, drowning in their solitary aloneness despite the church filled to the rafters with mourners.
Reuben’s heart ached, thinking how Rachel would have so wanted to be here, see this moment. He recalled how sweet she had been with Levi. Patient, encouraging. Even when Levi had taken that turn and became Simon’s mirrored reflection, rebellious, foul-mouthed. Maybe if she hadn’t died Levi would have turned out differently. Still, Reuben was happy Levi hadn’t dropped out of school like Simon had. From what he understood, it was Dinah’s urging that kept him going. Although, he didn’t seem to have any ambition at all, just wanted to get high, listen to music, get drunk. What a waste of life. Two losers for brothers.
Dinah jumped up from the metal bench upon seeing him. “Oh, Reuben! I haven’t seen you in so long! How come you never come over to the house? I miss you.” She turned to Lindsay. “Hey, I’m glad you came.”
“This is fun. I don’t have any brot
hers or sisters. You must be excited seeing Levi graduate.”
Reuben hung back while Lindsay spoke to his family. They all had met her on various occasions over the last year. He was glad she was so easy-going and amiable. Everyone seemed to like her, even his dad. He figured today would be the best day to break the news, with all of them in good spirits. He hadn’t seen them with smiles in a long time, he realized, as he worked his way down the bench, giving everyone a hug, even Simon, who didn’t resist him too much.
Reuben thought back over the last year, to the strange pallor that had set over his family like a black cloud. He first noticed it when he came over to bring Ben a birthday present, in May, when Ben turned four. Although they had a cake and ice cream and everyone was there except Simon, the smiles seemed forced, his dad worrying deeply over something. Reuben figured it had to do with Simon, usually did, but even Levi and Dinah were agitated, with Dinah morose and barely saying three words the whole evening. He was taken aback by her short hair, knowing how much she loved it long, had long hair ever since she was little. When he asked her why she cut it off she said it was too much trouble, got in her way. But Reuben read something else in her answer. Her face held some secret—in fact, all their faces hid secrets, except Ben’s. Even Joey, who was almost always cheerful, acted as if some doom and gloom were hovering over them all. Only recently had Reuben guessed it must have something to do with Ben.
He looked over at his littlest brother—a sixteen-year breach separating them. He was practically old enough to be Ben’s father. Ben sat quietly, looking out over the students, maybe trying to find Levi. He held Dinah’s hand, gripped it tightly, and in the sunshine Reuben could see how sick he was. His dad told him the doctors were worried, that all indications were that his kidneys weren’t functioning right, and they’d taken a ton of tests, put him on some medication. Reuben remembered Levi being sick when he was a toddler, but not looking half as bad as Ben. His skin was almost gray, and he looked so lethargic, not the way a five-year-old should be.
