by Thomas Babak
They both sat relaxing and watching TV until Sandy sat bolt upright, turned and said “Tasha…”
“What, what’s wrong?” she said with concern.
“What’s your mom going to say about you staying here?” Sandy asked, his voice a little upset.
Tasha leaned back, a false laugh escaping from her without answering.
“What?” Sandy asked plaintively.
“My mom is happy I’m gone,” she said, a sad and forced smile crossing her face. “When I went to pick up clothes, she just looked at me. I think as long as she doesn’t have to bail me out of jail, I could do anything I want.” She laughed another false laugh with what seemed like a sob mixed in before leaning forward, pulling Sandy back, and settling her head on his shoulder. He never had a chance to see which one it was. She was clinging to him and he figured that there wasn’t much he could say. He could just offer his shoulder and anything else if she needed it.
Sandy felt sad for Tasha. Even though his dad had skipped out on him, it was done. It had hurt at first, but now Sandy didn’t have any expectations nor even desire of ever seeing his dad again. Those expectations had died after a few months when his father had first disappeared. Tasha saw her mom daily. Her mom’s lack warmth and attitude was always in her face. He hesitated for a second, then then reached over and took her hand in his own. She squeezed his briefly but didn’t remove it.
They watched TV, holding hands, until the show ended and then headed up to bed. They brushed their teeth in the upstairs bathroom together, said goodnight, and Sandy went to his room, Tasha to her…Grandma’s room.
Sandy read for a little, while but couldn’t concentrate again so put his book down and shut the light. He lay there for a while in the dark. He still couldn’t sleep. I’m waiting for her to call out again to sleep with her, he thought. Sandy waited, but the call never came and he fell asleep.
The next morning, after a breakfast of cereal, toast and jam, they finally headed to the front door to go to school. Sandy unlocked it, letting Tasha precede him out and then followed, closing it behind him and locking it.
When he turned to follow Tasha down the steps, he stopped. Tasha stood frozen at the top of the porch stairs. Beyond her, parked in front of her house and leaning on his car looking back over his shoulder with a pissed-off look on his face, was Nick.
Fifteen
Kate hung up the telephone. She would have to go to her apartment and change. It wouldn’t take her very long. Her apartment was within walking distance. The apartment chosen because of its proximity to her work and for little other reason. She didn’t care about amenities like square footage, bedrooms, schools or things that most other people cared about. Of importance to her of where she lived was how it would enhance her ability to do her work.
She always had several very professional outfits ready to go and though she wore one of those very professional outfits right now, it just wouldn’t do for the meeting she was going to this afternoon. She wore a dark blue business suit. It wouldn’t do. She would change into a skirt. Something black and extremely conservative in appearance. Men take professionally dressed women more seriously. If they are beautiful and show a feminine appearance they will listen more closely. It wasn’t right, but it was the truth. She knew this and used it when she needed to.
The phone call had been from the President’s Chief of Staff. The President had read her latest report and wanted to speak with her. He had five minutes free a couple hours from now. She would show up an hour early. Calendars and availability when it came to the President was a constantly shifting fog of priorities depending on the situation or your importance.
It would be the fourth time she had been summoned during her career to brief the President on the progress of a certain case or to get guidance on the desired outcome of a case that was being assigned.
During these meetings she always found that it was best to say as little as possible. Unless she needed clarity on what the President desired. She didn’t hesitate then to ask questions or make comments. It was always best to understand what was expected. The implications and possible outcomes of this new technology would mean she would have to speak clearly and with authority. Because they were “concerned.”
She thought about the Chief’s call. The President was concerned. He and the President couldn’t quite believe her report. The President needed to see her. He needed an “update.” She knew from past experience that once they met and she spoke confirming the report she had made, that concern would turn to fear. Fear of what the technology was capable of. Even more fear that they didn’t control it.
The pressure on her to succeed in acquiring the technology would exponentially increase after she met with them. They would be convinced by her seriousness and professionalism that yes, the technology did exist and that they needed to control it imperatively. If she didn’t succeed in acquiring it soon, they would become even more fearful and would take steps to make that fear go away.
If they took those steps, Kate had no fear for herself. Even if they took steps firing her or worse she would go on doing what she did best. Serving and protecting the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic. In whatever capacity they placed her. Or even on her own. She glanced at the photo on her desk of her dead husband and child.
She continued to stare at the photo. Nothing else mattered.
Sixteen
“Tasha! What the hell?” Nick exclaimed, circling around the hood of the car to cross the street.
“Nick, stop!” Tasha called out, holding her hand up, arm straight out as if she could make him stop by force of will.
Nick came across the street and Tasha skipped down the porch stairs. She met him halfway down the walkway. Sandy slowly walked across the porch.
“Nick, what are you doing here?” Tasha asked.
“I came to pick you up,” he said heatedly.
“Nick…” Tasha began.
During the exchange, Nick stared at Sandy, a malevolent look on his face.
“Did you stay here last night?” he heatedly asked.
“Nick…” Tasha began again before he cut her off.
“What are you looking at Candy Cane?” Nick said, not really asking. The scowl deepened on his face.
Sandy walked down the porch stairs and stood several feet behind Tasha.
“NICK!” Tasha yelled.
Nick finally looked at Tasha and said loudly “What?”
“Leave! We are no longer together. Just leave,” Tasha said emphatically. She still held her hands up, palms outward, but was hesitant to push Nick away though he was standing very close.
Nick stared at her for about two seconds and then stepped around her, saying to Sandy “What are you looking…” while he stepped up to Sandy to chest bump him hard. He bounced off of Sandy and didn’t finish what he’d been about to say. The solidness of Sandy had startled him. Nick was only surprised for a second though and stepped back chest to chest again. However, several years of heavy work at the Salvage Yard and finally hitting his growth spurt meant that Sandy stood several inches taller and about twenty pounds heavier than Nick. Sandy, hands down by his side and still holding onto his backpack, looked down at Nick, whose face was only a few inches from his own. He still hadn’t said anything.
“The bitch is mine, Candy Cane,” Nick murmured menacingly. For years, Sandy had walked away from other kids teasing and bullying him. Today would not be the same. He dropped his backpack. With both hands, he pushed Nick away forcefully. Nick stumbled back, almost hitting Tasha as she dodged out of the way. Nick barely kept from falling. An enraged look broke out on his face once he regained his balance and he came back at Sandy fast. "No!" screamed Tasha as he passed her.
Without thinking, Sandy dodged to the side, pushing and tripping Nick as he flew by. He landed heavily on the concrete walkway and grunted in pain. He rolled over, blood from scrapes on his hands and his jeans ripped open at one knee.
“Oh, no!” Tasha
said as she hovered around Nick, wanting to do something but not knowing what.
Sandy immediately felt remorse as he looked down at Nick bleeding. Then he thought about what Nick had just said, and the anger rose again. He took a couple steps towards him but Tasha looked up and said “No!” causing Sandy to freeze in place. Her tone and the way she looked at him caused all the anger to drain from him. Sandy lowered his fists from where he held them and unclenched them at his sides.
Tasha had been bent over Nick, not really doing anything but slowly stood up and stepped back a pace from him.
“Nick, we aren’t together. I don’t think we ever really were. Please understand that,” she said quietly before looking over at Sandy. “Sandy, we should probably go.”
The situation seemed surreal. Sandy looked from Tasha to Nick who was now slowly standing up. His face filled with anger and he shot venomous looks at both Sandy and Tasha, but mostly at Sandy. Without saying anything, he turned and limped to his car and got in.
Sandy picked up his backpack from where he had dropped it and walked towards his own truck. Tasha followed. He opened the passenger door and held it for her as she got in.
They left for school with Nick sitting in his car.
It was quiet in the truck as they drove to school. Once they got to the school parking lot and got out, Sandy asked, “What are you doing for lunch?”
Tasha looked at him, a small smile breaking out on her face and answered “I don’t know. What are we doing for lunch?”
Sandy smiled. She’d remembered.
Seventeen
Nick sat in his car for several minutes. His knee hurt like hell from when he hit the ground. His hands had mostly stopped bleeding. They were only scraped from where he’d tried to stop his fall. He picked up a fast food napkin and wiped his hands. He examined his knee through the rip in his pants. It was only a little scraped and the pain was already diminishing. He sat there in his car, waiting for the pain to go away. It didn’t, but the beginnings of an idea came instead.
He looked over at Sandy’s house and then got out of his car. He walked over and up to the front door, not thinking about what he was doing. He tried the handle. It was locked. A car drove by and Nick spun around. The car hadn’t even slowed down. He smiled at that. No one cares.
Nick walked down the porch stairs and went to the back of the house. He tried the back door handle. It was locked too. He looked around. There was no one around. The yard was fenced. He pushed on the door. The wood creaked but the door held. Taking another glance around the empty back yard, he stepped back and kicked hard at the door near the handle. There was a crack and the door popped open. The wood around the door bolt had splintered.
He walked into the kitchen and closed the door behind him. It stayed closed even though it was broken now.
Nick was both a jock and “rich” as his parents were well-off by Maple Lake standards, his father owning a heavy equipment and farm vehicle business locally. They had a nice, large house on Maple Lake itself and their cars were at least new, if not expensive. He walked from the kitchen to the living room and thought to himself cheap old crap.
It was quiet and he knew that Candy Cane wouldn’t be home until after school. Nick suddenly remembered Candy Cane's dad, and almost bolted out the door. He knew, everyone knew, that Candy Cane’s mom had died years ago. Where is Candy Cane's dad? Nick wondered He’d never seen him in the past several months that he’d been picking up and dropping off Tasha from school. In town as small as Maple Lake, one would think that you’d see someone now and then. Now that Nick thought about it, he couldn’t recall seeing Candy Cane's dad for a long time. With this thought, he went upstairs.
The first room he came to was Sandy’s. He walked in and looked around. He sneered at the couple of toy action figures sitting on the improvised bookshelves. He looked at Sandy’s bed. It was made, since Sandy made it every day. Nick stepped up to it and unzipped his pants. The sound of fluid hitting the comforter reverberated in the empty room. Nick smiled widely for the first time since driving up to wait for Tasha earlier this morning. He zipped up his pants and boldly set off to explore the rest of the house.
He passed a closed door and the bathroom to look into a bedroom. The bed was made and he could see some of Tasha’s things on the dresser and laying on the easy chair by the window. His smile turned to a frown. She’s staying here with Candy Cane, he thought angrily. He had worse thoughts about what they may be doing together, which caused his frown to deepen.
He walked out of the bedroom room and opened the closed door down the hallway. It was he only other room besides the bathroom upstairs. Opening it he found another bedroom. This must be Candy Cane’s dad’s room, he thought. The shades were closed and the room was dark. Nick flipped the light switch on and walked in. He opened the closet and saw that there were very few clothes and shoes in there. Over the years Sandy had taken and used some clothes and had donated quite a few more. The drawers were almost empty too.
Nick walked around, something bothering him about the room besides the lack of clothes. It was the dust. There was dust on the dresser and on the nightstand. He ran his finger across the surface of the nightstand, his finger coming away coated in dust.
A petty, evil smile spread across his face. I’ve got you, Candy Cane, he thought.
Eighteen
Sandy sat in the school cafeteria by himself.
His lunch bag sat on the table in front of him, unopened. He’d offered to make Tasha lunch this morning but she had declined his repeated offers. He kept an eye out for her, but was beginning to doubt that she would show up. She, after all, had given him such a disappointed look when he’d fought with Nick this morning.
There she was! She was just coming through the door of the lunch line holding a tray in front of her. She looked around, saw him and smiled and then walked towards him and passed a table of her friends, smiling at them and saying “hi” as she passed by. Sandy began to smile. She hadn’t stopped to sit with them.
They had lunch together. Almost everyone in the cafeteria glanced over initially, talking and wondering but lost interest after they realized nothing exciting was happening.
Lunch ended with a mutual “see you later” and classes the rest of the day passed quickly for Sandy. He didn’t pay much attention in any of his classes as thoughts of Tasha occupied his mind entirely. He hadn’t thought about Bubble Tech at all.
He waited, standing by his truck and she showed up soon after. He and Tasha drove home together. They were welcomed by the broken kitchen door and Nick's "gift" on the bed. Tasha was livid and Sandy had to talk her out of calling Nick. She wanted to scream at him for what he had done. Sandy stayed calm. He wasn’t going to let what Nick had done ruin such a good day.
“Forget about it,” Sandy said. “It…he’s not worth it.” Sandy had grabbed wood glue, hammer and nails and had pieced the broken wood together like a puzzle, liberally coating them with glue before tacking everything together with the small nails. It would hold for now. He also added a deadbolt that he'd found in the basement.
Eventually he convinced Tasha not to call. When she calmed down finally, they decided to make dinner. Sandy hadn’t gone to the Yard after school like he usually did and wondered if Mr. Bullock would mind. He had planned on just dropping Tasha off but the broken door and what they’d found in Sandy’s room had derailed that. He’d make sure to apologize to Mr. Bullock when he saw him tomorrow.
Sandy was sitting at the kitchen table watching as Tasha opened and closed the cabinets and looked in the fridge. His sheets and comforter were downstairs in the washer and dryer. Tasha hand-scrubbed his mattress and it was airing out. He wanted to buy a new one as soon as possible. He’d sleep on the couch until he bought one. There was no way he was ever going to use that mattress again.
“We’re going shopping!” Tasha said.
“There's nothing in the freezer besides ice and some scary-looking stuff, and nothing fresh in the fridge,�
�� she laughed as Sandy stood. She grabbed his truck keys off the counter and tossed them to him. The laugh had eased his concern that she was still angry. He couldn’t stand the idea that she would be angry, even if it wasn’t at him.
They made their way to the grocery store. Once inside, Sandy didn’t know if he was pushing the shopping cart or she was pulling it. She led him through the produce section grabbing vegetables and dropping them into plastic bags before dragging him up and down the aisles. Half the stuff she put in the cart, Sandy didn’t really notice what it was. He watched Tasha most of the time. She seemed so happy. Sandy was so happy being with her.
“Hey Tasha,” a female voice said from one of the other lanes while they were checking out.
Sandy looked up from where he was bagging groceries. Tasha was standing over by the register watching the cashier scan items through.
“Oh hey, Steffi!” Tasha responded with a smile.
Steffi smiled back and then looked at Sandy while he continued to bag the groceries, glancing at both Steffi and Tasha between looking down to grab another item.
He didn’t see Steffi raise her eyebrows at Tasha asking with her expression “what’s going on?” He did, however, hear Tasha say, “I’m making dinner for my boyfriend.”
Sandy didn’t look up but a smile broke out on his face.
The smile was plastered on his face all the way back to the house and Sandy brought in all the groceries while Tasha unpacked them. Sandy started to put things away and Tasha would snatch an item occasionally from him while she made a salad.
“Go sit down,” she said.
“Are you sure?” Sandy asked “I can help.”
“No, I’m making it!” she said with a smile.
