Margo's Lullaby

by Groves, B.

  “This game is getting out of hand,” Pam said, but he heard the mirth in her voice.

  “It is.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Oh yeah. Randy said a few things, and—”

  “Poor Jake.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem. Remember all you two need to do is sit down and talk.”

  “I agree.”

  Chapter 13

  Gabby was away, and she didn’t know how long. She always called this client her problem child. He would be happy with the web design for a few months and then email her begging her to fly out to California to redo it.

  She wanted to fire him, but she was still building her business, and right now she was willing to put up his bullshit until her client list grew in size.

  Since she was staying in California, she took advantage of the time zone differences and Skyped with her brother John.

  “Hey Gabbs,” John said with a huge smile making Gabby miss him like crazy.

  Gabby used to hate it when he called her “Gabbs,” but she loved her nickname now.

  John looked just like their father, John Sr.

  John was at least six feet two, with bulging muscles, and the classic military stance. His dark blonde hair was shaved close to his head, and he had their mother’s green eyes instead of the dark blue that Gabby and Margo inherited.

  His wife, Leann, was a stark contrast to John. Gabby’s model for her latest work was based on Leann’s looks. Long raven hair, with dark eyes and olive skin.

  “How’s California?” Leann asked with a smile.

  “Dry and hot,” Gabby said with a crinkle of her nose that made the couple chuckle. “I hate flying out here.”

  “You going to check out the beach?” John asked.

  “Not this time,” Gabby answered. “I have an art gallery to attend in New York in a few days.”

  “That’s right. Are you selling this time?”

  “Nah, nothing’s finished enough, but one of my clients bought last week,” Gabby said proudly.

  “That’s awesome, Gabbs!”

  “Thanks!"

  Gabby could see one of her works behind the couple set around the Japanese décor. A river with a lonely man fishing in the distance from a small rowboat. That was one of her personal favorites. She remembered capturing that image on her cell phone camera one day while walking at a park near the Hillsborough River in Tampa. She went home that night and had it done in record time. She showed it to her brother over emails, and he asked if he could have it. Gabby had it shipped a week later.

  “How’s Jersey?”

  Gabby sighed. “Cold and wet right now.”

  John scratched his head. “I talked to Mom and Dad yesterday.”

  “Did you? I will call them tomorrow,” Gabby commented.

  “Yeah, they’re pissed.”

  “I know,” Gabby said, looking down.

  “How are you handling it?” John asked.

  “I’m okay. It’s been a walk down memory lane, you know.”

  Gabby watched as John’s mood changed, and Leann put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

  “I can’t believe it’s been ten years already,” John said. “God…”

  “I still wonder…” he added.

  Gabby gave her brother a sad smile. “John, what could you have done? You were in Iraq at the time.”

  “No, but when I talked to her last, she sounded fine,” John said. “I swear she did.”

  Gabby shook her head. “She wasn’t, and I still don’t know why.”

  “You know what the worst part is?” John rubbed his face as emotion took over. “I’ve forgotten what her voice sounded like. I know all the hate we’ve gotten, all the press, the lawsuits, everything, but it’s the sound of her voice… I can’t remember it anymore. She was still our sister.”

  Gabby wiped away her own tears as John was overwhelmed with his own emotions.

  John may have forgotten, but Gabby remembered it like it was yesterday.

  She remembered Margo’s last words to her. It was her own personal record player that never turned off inside her head.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

  Gabby closed her eyes for a second as the memory of Margo turning the gun to her temple. The blood that spattered when she pulled the trigger, and there was nothing but silence after.

  For a few seconds, after Margo slumped to the floor, Gabby always thought she heard a slight cough from her sister.

  She was never sure, but she remembered the autopsy saying there was blood in Margo’s lungs.

  She often wondered if Margo lived after the initial shot to her temple, and slowly, but agonizingly died from drowning.

  “I’m sorry,” John said, bringing Gabby back to the present. “I didn’t mean to be such downer.”

  Gabby smiled at her brother. “It’s okay, Johnny. We all have our moments.”

  “Be careful at the memorial, okay? I know how much we’re hated there.”

  “Don’t worry. Pam and Tony will be with me,” Gabby said, appreciating her brother’s concern. “Besides, maybe we’re all overreacting.”

  John rubbed his chin in thought even though he was clean-shaven.

  “I suppose, but be careful anyway.”

  Gabby looked onto her brother with a longing expression. “When are you coming home, Johnny?”

  Leann’s face lit up this time. “We’re looking at the end of the year. Trust me, we’re ready to come home.”

  Gabby squealed and clapped at the couple. She couldn't contain her excitement.

  “I hope so!”

  John smiled broadly. “It’s looking better and better.”

  “I can’t wait,” Gabby said.

  Brother and sister talked for a few more minutes. John shared what he could about his job in the military before signing off.

  “Message me after the memorial service to let me know how it went, okay?” John ordered.

  “I will, Johnny, I promise.”

  Gabby sat back in her chair in the hotel room and stared at the cream-colored ceiling. She listened to the noises outside to relax her mind.

  She’d visited Los Angeles on numerous occasions and had been sightseeing before, but she decided to relax and maybe hit the hotel bar later on.

  It was early in the week, and she sat up again making sure her reservations for New York were on schedule, thinking about just ordering a pizza.

  She hadn’t been this busy in a long time. Being a freelance designer gave her all kinds of freedom, but it was hard when she had to travel for clients.

  There were times she wouldn’t see the light of day for weeks working for a client, and there were times she was catching a last-minute flight to meet them.

  Some designers hated freelance, and others, like her, loved their freedom.

  Gabby’s thoughts turned to Dean again. Pam had let her know her frustrations about them not talking to each other yet.

  “I had to meet with this client. Do you want your rent money or not?” Gabby shot back.

  Pam growled into the phone. “Ha ha, funny. I wasn’t saying that.”

  “I couldn’t help it.”

  Pam growled again in frustration. “Oh my fucking God, you two.”

  Gabby thought Pam was holding back about telling her something, but Gabby was too tired to pry it out of her right now.

  Gabby continued to stare at the ceiling when her thoughts drifted.

  “Margo, you snuck out again last night, you are grounded!” June yelled.

  “I didn’t…”

  Gabby sat quietly at the dining table while June scolded her youngest daughter, and John Sr. sat across from her while the family ate dinner.

  Margo had come in late again the night before.

  “Do you think we’re stupid that we don’t know these little games you’ve been playing?” John Sr. asked.

  “You can’t prove it,” Margo argued.

  “Oh, like when I checked on you, an
d you weren’t there? I guess I was imagining it then, huh?”

  Margo threw her fork down and sat back in the chair to sulk while her parents lectured her.

  “Hey! You won’t do that at the table, young lady,” John Sr. said.

  Margo rolled her eyes and sat up straight in her chair, but put her head down.

  “Your teacher, Mister Metz, called us today to tell us more good news,” June added.

  “What?” Margo asked in a challenge.

  “That you missed your third day of class. What is going on Margo?” John Sr. asked, watching his daughter’s facial expressions for an answer.

  Margo crossed her arms over her chest in defiance. “I don’t want to be there. Mister Metz is fucking boring.”

  “Oh boy,” Gabby muttered and looked down at her plate.

  John leaned into his daughter. Whenever he did that, Gabby knew he was pissed off. It was very rare for her father to yell at his children, but Margo had him tangled in knots.

  “Those kids, whoever they are you’re hanging around with, you will not be seeing them again,” John said.

  “Oh really? How are you going to stop me, Dad?” Margo asked.

  June looked exasperated. “Your brother is serving his country in Iraq right now. How do you think he would feel hearing his sister acting like this?”

  Margo shrugged. “He made his choice.”

  Gabby looked over at her father once again. His face turned red in fury. Her parents were already stressed out enough about John being deployed overseas; they didn’t need more stress with Margo’s attitude.

  “Get off my table, and go to your room,” John said. “Don’t even think about leaving.”

  Margo eyed her father. She opened her mouth to say something but changed her mind.

  She pushed the chair out and stomped up the stairs to her room, slamming the door behind her.

  June and John Ryan stared at each other for a few minutes. Words didn’t need to be spoken between the couple. June leaned her elbow on the table and rubbed her temple. She pushed her chin length, caramel colored hair behind her ears, then sighed.

  Gabby turned to her mother and asked, “Do you want me to talk to her?”

  June turned to her elder daughter with a smile. “You can, but I doubt you’ll get through to her either.”

  June shook her head and took a sip of iced tea. Gabby’s parents weren’t drinkers anymore, but Gabby knew they were thinking about taking it up again.

  “How are you, honey? Are you okay?” June asked. “I’m sorry if you’ve been feeling neglected as of late—”

  “Mom, I’m fine,” Gabby said with a reassuring smile. “Everything is good for me. I understand.”

  The grateful look on June’s face told her everything.

  “Gabby, I looked over your latest creation, and it’s beautiful. Good job,” John Sr. commented.

  “Thanks, Dad."

  Gabby knew they were trying to lighten the mood. This back and forth between Margo and her parents had been going on for months now.

  Gabby had seen it at school too. The crowd Margo was hanging around now weren’t good students, and it worried her.

  Her parents questioned her several times about these kids, and at first, Gabby didn’t want to rat out her sister but caved in.

  “Gabby, are you finished? Your father and I need to talk.”

  Gabby could tell her mother was apologetic for chasing her away from the table.

  “Sure, Mom,” Gabby said pushing back her chair. “Did you want me to do the dishes tonight?”

  “No. I got it,” June said. “You do what you need to do, but thank you.”

  Gabby nodded and washed off her dish in the sink. She couldn’t hear what her parents were saying exactly but heard the word counseling in one sentence.

  Gabby shook her head and headed down the hallway

  She stopped in front of Margo’s bedroom door. Gabby listened and heard the music box playing wondering if Margo was still in there or climbed out of her window again.

  “Margo?”

  Gabby was surprised when Margo opened the door.

  “What?” She asked defensively.

  “Can I come in?”

  Margo’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  “Why?”

  “Because—”

  “Did they put you up to this?”

  Gabby scoffed. “No.”

  Margo shook her head, with the suspicion never leaving her eyes. “I know what you’ve been doing. You’re spying on me at school.”

  “Margo—those people you’re hanging out with—”

  “Are my friends,” Margo finished. “Go away, Gabby. Go live your perfect little life with your perfect little friends, and I’ll live mine.”

  Gabby frowned. “I don’t have the perfect little life. What the hell are you talking about?”

  Margo’s eyebrows rose. “Oh no? That’s all I hear. Why can’t you be more like your sister? Your sister is so polite and perfect? Your sister always did well in this class? Can you draw like your sister?”

  “Margo, I never told anyone to say that to you.”

  “No, but that’s all I hear. I hate it, and I don’t want you around me. Go away.”

  Gabby stood there stunned at her sister’s cruel words. She turned to see her parents coming down the hallway, and barge into Margo’s room.

  The door slammed in her face, and the screaming commenced.

  Gabby never knew Margo felt that way about her. Her heart was wounded beyond words.

  They used to be so close, and now a stranger stood on the other side of that door.

  Gabby sat up straight when the knock came to her hotel room door.

  “I’ll be right there!”

  Gabby grabbed the cash from her wallet and opened it to find the pizza delivery guy waiting for her.

  She paid him and tipped him. Shutting the door behind her, the smell of garlic, tomato sauce, and cheese permeated her nostrils making her stomach growl.

  She sighed when she glanced at the clock. It was still early, but she thought she might as well get an early start for her client in the morning, so she could get the hell out of Los Angeles. The sooner, the better.

  Besides, she couldn’t wait to fly to New York for the art gallery she was attending. She was stalled on her current works in progress and needed inspiration. Gabby was always scouring the Internet looking for the next art shows if she lived in a nearby area. She’d been to New York before to attend them there since New York was a central location for artists like herself, but her first love was always a local artist. They were the most passionate about their work. The most enthusiastic, and she made a lot of connections over the years about her work, even though she kept most of it private. She did have an online shop for her work linked to her business website, so her customers could browse and possibly buy from her. She had yet to make a profit from her paintings, but that was never her goal. She did it out of love, not money.

  Gabby crinkled her nose at the pizza. It definitely wasn’t east coast quality, but would have to do for now.

  Gabby thought of Dean, and how he wanted to talk to her. She was happy about it, but it seemed their schedules hadn’t come together enough to sit down or he was avoiding her again, she wasn’t quite sure.

  She regretted the earlier words they’d exchanged, but it was in the past, and hopefully this was a new beginning for them. If not anything, it could be one of understanding and forgiveness.

  At least on his part, she thought.

  Gabby knew what to expect at the memorial. Some might embrace her, and others might be downright hostile. But, she was determined to show up.

  Now matter how much she tried to deny it, she always felt that guilt of surviving when others perished. The guilt of not stopping her sister sooner when Margo entered the library that day to take down those students.

  It weighed heavily on her mind throughout the years.

  Survivor’s guilt as experts called it.
>
  All her family had it. Her mother wishing they’d taken a different approach towards Margo, perhaps admitting her to a hospital for treatment. Her father saying maybe they should have disciplined her even more like he learned in the military.

  Gabby reached into her bag and picked up Margo’s diary.

  She flipped to the page she wanted and read the passage again.

  Dear Diary,

  He told me he loved me today. I can’t believe it. He loves me!

  He is my everything. My sunrise, my sunset, my shining star. He told me not to listen to anyone who doubted us.

  It would always be our little secret. No one would understand.

  He told me he loved me, and would soon show his love to me. I’m nervous. I hope I don’t get pregnant.

  I can’t even say his name in here, because if they ever found this, I would never see the light of day again. I have to see him again. I need to hear those words. Everyone else has abandoned me, but I know he loves me.

  -Margo

  Gabby threw the diary on the table and watched it slide across until it teetered on the edge. Getting information out of Jason was a complete bust.

  She hoped the memorial would open the door that had been closed to her for so long.

  Who was this person?

  Gabby felt the tears threaten when her next thought came.

  And, why did he tell her he loved her, and then have her raped?

  Chapter 14

  March 20th came on a Friday. The official memorial service was scheduled for Saturday so most of the community could attend.

  Seven Hills High School closed Friday to observe the ten-year anniversary. That would be the first and last year the school board would approve a day off for the students and faculty to reflect on the tragedy years before.

  Dean had never thought much about the anniversaries until the last few years. He figured it was because he was more sober these days, and could reflect on what it meant to be a victim of a mass shooter.

  Last week, he was slammed with phone call and email requests for interviews.

  His whole life was questioned by nosy reporters who researched his past, and asking why he became a teacher at the same school where he almost lost his life, what were his thoughts now, and how did he deal with the aftermath. What was that breaking and entering charge all about? Had he lost hope for his future at the time?