Redemption

by Sam J. D. Hunt

  I packed Grace into her new designer little carrying pod, also known as the world’s safest infant restraint system. As I attempted to click it into the base, out ambled my ancient neighbor.

  “Oh hey, Misses…” I had no idea what her name was.

  After release from prison, I went to the only home I’d ever known - my grandmother’s trailer.

  “It’ll be yours when I’m gone, Shawn,” she used to say. “But let it go when you find your redemption.”

  “Redemption is a lie, Grandma,” I remember saying.

  But sure enough when she passed, Grandma June left me her possessions. Which wasn’t much, but as I worked my ass off to dig my way up, it was all I had.

  The old lady behind me spoke again, as I broke out in sweat trying to hear that beloved click that told me Grace was mounted in safely.

  “I knew your grandmother, young man.” Her voice was shaky, her steps so unsteady I thought she might crash into the gravel of the parking lot that separated our two trailers.

  With an instinctive sign of the cross, a remnant from some glimpse of a long-forgotten religious heritage, I walked toward her. “She was a good woman.”

  “Married to a horrid man.”

  I nodded – my grandfather was a monster of the worst kind. I reached out my arm to her, appraising the ancient woman who’d lived across from me for years. Never had she spoken, only peered out of her windows with disapproval.

  “That baby,” she said, her crooked finger pointed toward Grace. “That baby is your redemption, Shawn.”

  A shudder ran over me as she said my given name.

  “I know,” was all I could manage to say. It was as if she were a soothsayer at some carnival, but only a real one. One who could look into my soul and read it like tea leaves.

  “Take her from here. She’s not safe.”

  “I plan to ma’am, as soon as I can get everything set.”

  “Do it now. Your redemption demands this sacrifice. Waver not, and you shall find all that you seek.”

  “Uh, that’s kinda heavy ma’am.”

  “Heavy my ass,” she said, shuffling back to her crumbling trailer.

  At a ridiculously slow speed, we drove to CVS in the safest automobile in Nevada. Gone were the days of racing around the valley, lane sharing like a Californian transplant and defying the helmet laws.

  But it was all worth it. Looking in the rearview mirror at a stoplight, I admired the creation that was Grace. No, it wasn’t the optimal way to raise a child, but I didn’t regret a second of it. I just hoped Misty would stay gone. Rumor around the Sam’s Town goldfish bowl of gossip was that she was working the corner not far from the casino.

  After ten minutes of trying to figure out how to free Grace’s safety pod from the base it was locked in, we made our way toward the pharmacy and found the clinic. Inside, I sat on a plastic chair and stared at the stack of redundant forms. “Um, I’m not sure how to answer some of this,” I said to the receptionist.

  “Do you need language or reading assistance?”

  “You just talked to me, extensively, in English. And I can read, thanks.”

  “Oh,” she said, looking up from her computer. “Sorry, habit. Just fill out as much as you can.”

  “Cool. Her mother sort of just dropped her at my doorstep, so I don’t know her medical history or any of that.”

  “Ah, a single father.” She licked her lips and pulled her blouse a little lower. “Usually it’s the other way around.”

  “So this insurance part – I don’t think I have any.”

  She cocked her head to the side, still trying to flirt. “You don’t know whether or not you have medical insurance? Where do you work?”

  “Various places,” I answered, having no intention of disclosing that. “Never mind, I see the cash thing now.”

  “We have plenty of cash customers come in here, Mr. MacKenzie. No worries.”

  I went back to filling out the endless forms until she interrupted me. “Do you have custody? I should have asked that right away.”

  “She’s mine.”

  “Of course she is, look at her – she looks just like you. But to authorize non-emergency medical treatment, we need some sort of documentation.”

  “I’m on the birth certificate,” I said, suddenly terrified at the idea of custody and not having complete say in the life of my own daughter.

  “That’ll do,” she said with a smack at her keyboard.

  Luckily they weren’t busy that day. In less than half an hour, we were seen by a doctor, or someone in a white coat, anyway.

  “She looks healthy and happy, Mr. MacKenzie,” the woman said, her glasses perched on the end of her nose.

  “Yeah, she’s been great. It’s just this puking thing. A few moms I know said it’s not normal.”

  “I’m sure this whole thing has been a trial by fire. I can see that you care and you’re trying to do what’s right the best you can. But, we really need a medical history on Grace. Where she was born, issues at delivery, a maternal history of health issues.”

  “I’ll see if I can track that down.”

  She nodded. “Good, good. For now, and I’m not a pediatrician, but I think she’s lactose intolerant. Have you tried soy formula?”

  “Is that best for her?”

  “Well, breast milk is always best.”

  As always, I wanted the best - not second-best, not good enough. “Let’s get her that then. Can I do like a wet nurse or something? Where do I find one of those?”

  “Perhaps in 1529.” Then she glanced up from her notes. “Oh, sorry, bad joke. No, nowadays we use what we call a milk bank. UMC has one, but it’s expensive.”

  She went back to writing, as if the conversation was over.

  “So I can just go over there and like, check some milk out?”

  “It’s expensive,” she said again.

  “I don’t care.”

  Her pen finally stopped moving and her eyes met mine. “Okay, I can write you a prescription. Well, more of a referral. For right now, use the other kind of formula. I’ll have them get it for you.”

  “Thanks. Is this milk safe though? How do I know it’s not full of germs or whatever? I heard ear infections are going around.”

  She smiled wide. “It’s all safe – screened, tested.”

  I nodded. “Okay, cool. I want the best for her. She’s the most perfect baby ever.”

  “Yes, yes she is. And I have a feeling she’s one lucky girl that her mama had the courage to give her up.”

  I hadn’t thought of it that way. I’d been so furious at Misty, that the thought of her doing what was right for our child, despite her fucked-up-ness, had never crossed my mind.

  Four

  No, I Don’t Need To Find Jesus Or Install Solar

  Tara Drake

  “Hey Larsen, I’ve got a quick and easy one for you.”

  “Drake,” I corrected. “Please stop using that name.”

  My boss sighed. “Fine, Ms. Drake. Head over to Sam’s Town and find a reason to take this baby.”

  I looked up over my cubicle wall as he handed me a thick folder. Why I was here, I didn’t know. My family had historically been either cops or lawyers – never social workers. But yet, despite the vapid gulf it was, I was called to it.

  Calling was one thing – Clark County Social Services was an entirely different thing. My boss hated me, and his main goal in life was to avoid any sort of work.

  “Oh hey, Jerry,” I said, flipping through the papers. “I don’t see a complaint or any probable—”

  “You’re not a fucking cop, Tara. A Saints and Sinners gangster gets some tweaker whore pregnant and she drops it on his door.”

  “It?”

  “She. He. What the fuck ever. It’s a white baby with rich white concerned grandparents who live in California. Case closed.”

  I scanned the file a bit further. “It says here the grandparents are worried – not that they have an actual complaint
against the father.”

  “I have a complaint against the father. I bet your husband would, too. Don’t even visit, just drag him in with the baby and we’ll write up that he’s unfit. Done and done.”

  “I can’t do that.” I stood up and faced him.

  “Fine, I’ll give it to someone else. Do you really think Clark County needs one more welfare kid?”

  “The father isn’t on public assistance. I don’t see anything here other than the incarceration.”

  “And my arm’s length of criminal shit before that. Find a reason to move that baby out of our hands.”

  I opened the hefty file and read the first page.

  “What the fuck are you doing? Get over there. Now.”

  “I need to read all of this and then schedule…”

  “How many cases do you have? Clear this one and move on to them. Help those kids who have no one.”

  We both knew the caseload we were all under was overwhelming. We also both knew that other than yelling at me, he didn’t have much control. The department was so overwhelmed and overpaid, that very rarely did anyone stay.

  “Hank’s gonna want this one cleared ASAP, honey.”

  “Still not your honey. Or his. Why would he care about this guy?”

  “None of your fucking business.”

  I stared at him until he tossed up his hands in exasperation.

  “He didn’t do enough time. Friends in high places.”

  “But not Hank’s high places, I get it.”

  “Yep, the other high places. Why the fuck do you think I’m making you do it?”

  “I won’t.”

  “Move that kid or you’re fired.”

  “I’ll do what’s best for,” I opened the file and flipped to the birth certificate. “I’ll do what’s best for Grace Olivia MacKenzie.”

  “Don’t go getting any broken fingers, honey.”

  “Freaking butthole!” I screamed at my hands-free as I drove away from the office.

  “Oh my fuck, Tara, you can actually swear,” my best friend, Maddie, said through the speaker in my car.

  “Honestly, I don’t know how you do it. Or why you do it. Come work with me at the courthouse. Hot guys in suits!”

  “I do help children, and that’s everything to me.”

  “Ah, Mother Theresa, selfless and good.”

  “Bull crap,” I said with a sigh.

  The truth was, I did it for me. Helping people was my escape from my own growing list of problems.

  “Let’s have a drink or twelve later. What part of town are you headed to?”

  “Boulder and Nellis area.”

  “Ew, Sam’s Town.” I could almost hear the sneer on her face.

  “Oh, I go to way worse. Alone.”

  “But armed, right?”

  “You know how I am about that. He tried to teach me, but I just never felt comfortable with guns.”

  “Get comfortable and use one on Hank.”

  “Enough. I’ll see you tonight. Happy hour at the usual?”

  “Fuck to the yes,” she said, hanging up without a goodbye.

  When I pulled into the parking area, it was nearly noon and as hot as any day I could remember. I hadn’t had time to read the file, which threw me off-kilter. I knew very little about the man I was about to surprise with a home visit.

  Flipping through the stack of papers trying to find the house number, a loud bang on my window startled me.

  “Hey!” a small woman screamed through the glass.

  As I rolled down the window, she started to just spew words. “Get outta here, I already paid you assholes!’

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t need no bill collectors ‘round here. I sent the payment on Tuesday.” And she made some weird hand gesture as if her words were made more powerful by it.

  “Collections? No, I’m here with social services.”

  “Bull to the shit. Not in this car, not with those clothes, not with that two-hundred dollar hairdo.”

  I pulled out my badge and held it to the side of my face. With one glance her entire demeanor changed, as if the bitch-switch had suddenly been flipped to the off position.

  “Welcome to our neighborhood! Good family place. My precious boys love it here. How can I help you exactly? Because, Ma’am, Charlie Anderson is my normal worker and he’s been happy with my mothering.”

  “Charlie is a good guy.” He was, actually. And he was cute - he’d asked me out a few times but I never dared.

  “Well, uh, if you’re here for a home visit, I should tell you that Ariel has stomach flu. Oh, and pink eye. Hate for you to catch all that.”

  “I’m here to see Grace MacKenzie, actually.”

  She instinctively looked toward a trailer to the left of us, but shook her head in denial. “Don’t know anyone like that.”

  “And yet, she lives ten feet from you.”

  “I plead the tenth,” she said, her left hand in the air as if she were being sworn in.

  “It’s the fifth, and it’s about self-incrimination. Now, can you step aside so I can open my door.”

  “Wait, let me just…”

  “Warn him? No.”

  “He’s a good guy! That baby is his world. Please don’t do this.”

  “I’m not doing anything. Move or I’ll call Charlie, tell him to come out right away and check out those sick children you just lied about.”

  She let out a big sigh and stepped aside. “They’re fine, it’s just the baby got into toilet paper earlier. It’s everywhere.”

  I smiled at her. “We’re not the enemy. No one is going to hassle you over a little mess.”

  “I know, I know.”

  As I stepped out of the vehicle, she followed me. But I didn’t need an audience. “Shouldn’t you be inside with your children?” I asked as I spun around and faced her.

  “Uh, I was just going inside,” she said with a pout.

  Heavy file in hand, I waited until she’d gone in and closed her door.

  As I walked toward the MacKenzie trailer, I sensed everything was about to change. It wasn’t a bad feeling, just a bizarre charge of energy. And then, I knocked on his door.

  It was open in seconds. And for the first time in my life, I was completely speechless. Oddly catatonic, I stupidly just stood there staring at him. He was shirtless, massive and covered in muscles and ink.

  “No, I don’t need to find Jesus or install solar,” he said. I forced myself to make eye contact, which made it even worse. The color was odd, vividly blue but it was more than that. It was like he was looking into my soul and trying to read me.

  And still, no words came from my useless mouth.

  “What? I’m busy,” he finally said.

  “This is your file,” I managed to answer, dragging my gaze from his, forcing myself to focus.

  “I have a file?” He reached for it, and I almost handed it to him.

  “Uh, I’m here from Child Protective Services to see Grace.”

  For a split second, he flinched. “Do you have a warrant?”

  “This is not a criminal investigation, Mr. MacKenzie. Someone called into the hotline with a concern, that’s all. There was no complaint, just well…”

  “Concern.”

  “Yes,” I said with a nod.

  “And if I don’t let you see her?”

  “Then I’ll have to put that in my report, but we can certainly schedule an office visit.”

  He said nothing, his hands in his pockets.

  “Listen, I didn’t mean to get off on the wrong foot. And don’t worry about mess or whatever – I’m not here to inspect you with a white glove or anything. If I could see the baby, verify she’s healthy, that’s all I want. Cooperation will make this go so much faster.”

  With a deep breath, he stepped aside and waved me into his home.

  His immaculate home.

  Five

  I Shit You Not, But His Name Is Thug

  Mack

  Inside, ever
ything quaked with fear. They’d come to take my daughter away, and I was terrified. But fear is the enemy, so I let my old friend fury take over. I could feel it course through me – anger, rage. But I never came across as angry – I fueled it into a coldness that always inspired terror in others.

  But this chick – I was drawn to her in a weird way I didn’t understand. Yeah, there was some weird sexual attraction surge, but that I refused to feel. Since I just couldn’t read her, I thought maybe I’d try a little intimidation. She seemed meek – but I was wrong.

  I boldly pointed my favorite finger in her face. Yes, I have a favorite finger – the one with the letter W on it. Everyone should have a favorite finger.

  “I get that you’re a do-gooder probably with some Ivy League education from some rich family. You think you’re going to roll in here with that giant rock on your hand in a Lexus and rescue my daughter from some gangster thug? Listen, lady, you have no fucking idea who I am.”

  She didn’t give an inch. This chick took a step toward me, something no one dares to do. Inches from my face, I didn’t budge.

  But at that very moment, my ancient dog totally stole my thunder. He came ambling out and stood at her feet and looked up at her as if she was about to hand him a pound of bacon.

  Going down to her knees, she patted his head. Of course, he ate it up like the pussy of a dog he was.

  Seeing her cooing over him, on her knees no less, made my fury fade.

  “Look, Ms…?”

  “Tara, Tara Drake.”

  “Tara, I’m not a thug. I was, but I’m just a man trying to do better. And now, I have this beautiful baby girl that I didn’t expect. And I’ve done my best, everything she’s needed. Now, I feel like you’re here to steal it all away from me.”

  She looked up at me. “I never said you were a thug, Shawn, you used that word.” Looking back to my dog, she asked, “What’s his name?”

  And I just had to laugh, even though she used my first name, even though the situation scared the hell out of me. “I shit you not, but his name is Thug.”