"You mean kill'em?"
"Yeah. If that were Dennis and someone was threatening you, and he found out and went and took that person out—how would you feel about Dennis?"
"Are you serious?"
"Yes, very."
"Okay, I'm gone tell you just like it is. If a mothafucka come through this door, he brown bread, baby! His ass is baked! You understand?"
"No, Sheila…that's different, I said to you, that you've been threatened by someone whom you know will carry it through and Dennis gets to him first, does him in. What would that make you feel?"
"That my husband means goddamn business! Don't fuck with his family! Don't threaten his family, because who can sleep with that over they head? Somebody like that could get you anytime, when you least expect it! Self-preservation, baby! If he stupid enough to threaten me and my husband know he means business, that fool better watch his back!"
"So if Dennis killed someone, it wouldn't bother you?"
"It depends on the reason why. And I know my husband. I know he loves me and I know what kind of man he is, and if he does it, then he must have felt justified. I'm backing him."
"Just like that?"
"Damn straight!"
"Ah, well, I don't know if it's that simple. There are a lot of consequences to consider. For instance, what about the law?"
"Law only works after a crime been committed, you know that! What the hell, fucked up justice system, don't get me started - the subject alone pisses me off! As we know, the law don't do shit - to prevent a crime - not one goddamn thing! The only people the law keeps in line are the people that obey the law! What about the people that don't obey the law? There is no law for them, because they don't abide by it. So the law doesn't work to keep them in line, but the law can't assume who they are, until they break it. Or, kill somebody!"
"I know, I know, I know…but still. I don't like violence!"
"Neither do I! But it's the world we live in!"
"Yeah, I guess, look, uh—I gotta go. I'll talk to you later."
"Alright, you know how to reach me, and tell Vivian no account ass I'm mad her! I'll catch you later."
Sylvia sat in the middle of her bed, back against the headboard, knees up, elbows to them, her fingers crossed at her brow. Her stomach hurt. What Sheila was saying was easy for her to say. She wasn't in that boat, but Sylvia had a aching feeling that she was. Because of her time spent with Armundo, Sylvia feared any man that could be capable of killing. What kind of person had it in them to take another human being's life? That was the question, and the second one, could she live with such a man? What all else did that make him capable of? If he did do what Shanna suspected, how did he do it? Did he kill him with his bare hands? She had to blink and shake off the memory of him pummeling Ray Olivetti. Sylvia sat realizing that if she hadn't stopped him, he would have killed him, it was only her screaming his name and interfering that made him stop. "Oh, my God…Shawn, nooo, please let her be wrong." She groaned. However, it was back to, if she wasn't wrong, when did he do it? And if he did, where is the body? Sylvia shivered and covered her mouth. "God up in heaven please, what do I do? Did he do it? Did he? And if he did - who is this man, I'm living with - oh my God, I'm having his baby - I married him!"
All of the consequences of the act started coming in to haunt her now. If he did it, again, where was the body? What if someone started looking for him? Could he be traced back to Shanna and then to Shawn? If he could be and they found out that he was dead, the next question would be, who did it? There would be an investigation, visits and questions from the police—he'd be arrested! Arrested! She was over 4 months pregnant with his baby, with everything mid-swing, what would it all mean? She slid down in the bed, feeling sick to her stomach. Stress was riding her hard. She was trying to stay calm but couldn't, she didn't want to start crying and not be able to stop, but she could feel it building up.
The phone rang. Her heart stopped, skipped a beat and started up again, making her feel even more shaky. She answered, "Hello?" It came out as a soft whisper, filled with stress.
"Sylvia?"
It was Shawn. Sylvia held the phone, sniffed, swallowed, "Yeah?" Again it was forced up and out through her clamoring chest.
"You okay?"
"No…I'm not okay. I'm not okay…what have you done, Shawn? What have you done?" She was on the verge of weeping.
They were in Chicago, had made record time. They'd stopped to get a bite to eat, use the bathroom and back on the road again. Shawn had put off calling until they made it to Chicago, because in his gut, he'd known when he did ring her, this was what he would have to face.
"Sylvia, you have to trust me. I need you to calm down and when I get home, I—"
"I can't calm down!" She forced out in a desperate whisper. "I am so stressed out right now! You're driving me crazy—Shawn! You're driving me crazy! This is not what my life was supposed to be!" She started crying and clicked the phone off.
Shawn sat in a men's room stall, he thought his head would explode. He wanted to call her right back, but knew he would no doubt spend the night doing that. On a toilet, head in hand, massaging it, grinding his teeth. he willed himself to pull it together. Tears came to his eyes, he felt so under pressure. He'd done what he'd had to do. There had been no other way around it. He'd sat out in those woods, thinking… praying with all of his might that John Sykes would not come. That he would not show up. He'd contemplated calling the police. Calling Officer Collier. Problem was, as he sat thinking about it, letting the scenario run through his mind, if they caught John Sykes as they sat and waited, IF they were willing to come out and sit and wait…if they caught him breaking into Shanna's home, the moment he stated that he was her husband, they would be forced to let him go.
The problem would then be, proving that he was up to no good, and all he had to say is that he was just trying to get into his home, that she'd locked him out. A restraining order in another state wouldn't be considered there. He would no doubt lie and say that he just wanted to see her. He would say, "She's my wife! I have a right to see my wife!" In Wisconsin, marriage meant equal ownership of everything. In Wisconsin, he would have the right to walk into her home and call it his own, and the police would not be able to force him out.
Because they were married.
Shawn knew that. Shawn knew that when those police walked away, John Sykes would be left with full access to his sister—until—he did something that warranted the police. By the time the act was committed and the police could respond, Shanna would be dead, unless that is, Shawn carried her around on his back.
If he were allowed to come there and get to know them, he would know that Shawn was his biggest threat. He would also know that Sylvia, his pregnant wife, might just possibly be the ticket to warning him off. Shawn felt in the pit of his stomach that he would be a threat to his wife…to his Sylvia. That was one thing he could not bear, someone touching her, hurting her, that act alone would be his undoing, sending him into madness. This was his home, where his most precious possessions resided. He sat in those woods pleading for a solution. A solution that would not end up down the road, bringing harm to Shanna or…harm to his wife and child. On the brink of another prayer, John Sykes crept right by him. Never even knew that he was there. Shawn's heart gripped him and slammed back into beating. All prayer ceased, and the cloak of hardness fell over him.
As if a jackal was stalking his loved ones, Shawn's primal instincts took over, his facial muscles tightening, pulling his mouth into a silent snarl, adrenaline driven, all choices or options in that instant were removed. At that point, only one objective was paramount, to eliminate the threat - all prayer, hope and thought - over.
Closing off all thoughts to that, Shawn wiped his hand over his face, his fingers and thumb digging into his eyes to clear away any trace of his tears. They needed to get moving. He took a few deep breaths, trying to fight back a battle of nausea. What he was doing, caused him no stress, no concern. It was he
aring his wife stressed. Saying that he was driving her crazy, that was the grip of it all. He walked out of the stall, washed his hands after putting his phone back in his pocket, then splashed his face. He blew out a couple more times and then walked out into the Chinese restaurant where his dad sat at a table waiting for him. Shawn reclaimed his seat across from him, they'd finished their meal already and were about to get moving again.
"You okay, boy?"
"Yeah…I just wanna get this over with as quickly as possible. Sylvia's upset."
"I see. Son, you gone have to learn, to keep things from them. They can't handle it. Not only do you have to protect them, but you have to protect them from what you've done to protect them."
"I know, dad, but she's not dumb."
"The only thing you can do, son, is go home and continue to be a good husband to her. Give her time to work it out with herself. You as the man, have to stand your ground - this - part of what it means, to be a man."
"I know, but…she's pregnant…I shouldn't be upsetting her like this."
"No, the timings not good. But we had little choice in the matter. He would have gotten our lil'girl…that is what's most important right now, making sure she's safe. Had I snapped his neck when I had the chance, this might have all been saved. The moment I laid eyes on him, I wanted to kill'im and I could have, easily."
"Well, there's no need for us to worry about that anymore. I just want to get where we're going and get back home as soon as possible."
"I'm ready to roll, let's go."
Hanging up on him only made things worse. Sylvia knew she had to pull herself together. However, it was agony having to wait for him to come home. She was in a state of constant queasiness. And when he made it home, then what? Sylvia came out of her room long enough to get Angela off to bed as Crystal did the same with her two boys. Mundo was in the basement watching TV and Shanna would be bedding down with Sylvia to keep her company and take her mind off of things, if that were at all possible. It was late when both women bedded down for the night, their minds on the same thing - Shawn.
"You okay, Sylvia?"
"If I answer that truthfully—we could be up all night."
"I can't say I'm sorry enough."
"You said it plenty, Shanna." Sylvia returned in the hushed whispers they were speaking in. "No need to say it again, none of this is your fault, so please stop acting as if it is."
"I just wish John had left me alone."
"So do I, Shanna, so do I."
"You're not gonna hold this against him, are you, Sylvia?"
"I'm so tired, I really don't wanna talk."
"Okay…I'll shut up after I say this, okay?"
Sylvia sighed, letting that be her reply.
"You know, because of the way Shawn was in school, all of his girlfriends ended up breaking it off with him. They would want him, but then they couldn't handle him because of the way he was. So…they'd turn to Jake, and of course he made himself available to them."
"Shanna, I know this already."
"I know you do, Sylvia, but the fact is…Shawn has had to face losing one girlfriend after another. Surely that has done something to his self-esteem. And then to have his wife in California divorce him as well…and…now this. Thing is…none of them, have meant as much to him as you. I know that. Oh, the joy that was in his voice when he would call mom, telling her about you. How you were, about the bats and his deck." Shanna started giggling.
"Oh, my goodness, did he tell everyone about that?"
"It was so funny, Sylvia. And to hear him talk as he did, so animated…so alive, so determined to have you…well, I've never known him to be so…so…joyful…happy—excited! You excite him, Sylvia. You gave him a rush of exhilaration that we could all hear in his voice. Even down to his description of you." Shanna stared laughing again, "And the pool game? We know about that too."
Sylvia couldn't help it, she too had to laugh, "I can't believe he told you guys about that as well, I made a complete fool of myself!"
"We were laughing so hard. He said you were so sure of that game, he almost hated to burst your bubble, almost!"
Sylvia reflected back, and remembered very well. Back in the days when he seemed so light-hearted, so laid-back and carefree. He'd changed. Carefully, gradually, who he really is, how he thought, felt and responded, came to the fore. Little by little…she was beginning to see the big picture, one that made her empathize with the girls that couldn't stay with him. Although she totally disagreed with them cheating on him with Jake, she could see why the difference in them made them walk away from one, to the one who seemed truly happy-go-lucky and carefree. It wasn't so easy for her to just walk away. She was deeply in love with him, whomever he was—this sure, son of Bart.
She could hear Shanna dozing off as a slight snore escaped her. She must have woke herself up, she yawned and then said, "It will all sort itself out, Sylvia, it will. Goodnight." She turned over, sleeping on her brother's side of the bed. Sylvia returned it softly, "Goodnight, Shanna."
She turned over and her phone rang again.
She grabbed it before the first ring finished, not wanting to wake the household. "Hello?" She answered softly.
"I love you…with every fiber - of my being. I need you to know that. You're my wife. You promised, for better—or for worse. I have to hold you to it, because I can't live without you. Yet, if you denied me…I'd have no choice but to back away and let you go. I would, Sylvia. I would. God as my witness, I would never want to do anything to hurt you. But…I would never be far. And all you'd have to do…is…just say my name, I'd come running, I swear—I'd always be there." Shawn stated from the depths of his being.
Sylvia lay on her side, in the fetal position, to hear him like that made her stomach ache, "Oh, Shawn."
"I mean it. I don't know what it is about you. Maybe it's the look in your eyes. The feel of your skin. That way you have of being mean and tough, when—I know better. You're a strong woman, Sylvia McPherson, but you're also, gentle and sweet and feminine and beautiful beyond words. You're the kind of woman a man like me…dreams about. You're my wife, and if you send me away…I won't be far."
Sylvia wiped at her rolling tears, he was trying to posses her very soul. Even now, she lay weak at his words. She sniffed asking, "Where are you?"
"I'm driving."
"I can't believe you said all of that in front of your father."
"I didn't, he's not with me."
"I thought you went with him?"
"I did."
"Did you leave him somewhere?"
"No...he's driving up ahead."
Sylvia stopped to think about that and finally asked, "So, then, what are you driving?" Because he'd left with Bart, there was no need to take his SUV, it was parked beside her car in the garage. He went quiet a moment and decided not to answer that question. "Look, I just called to say that I love you. That I'll be home as soon as I can. And then we can pick up where we left—"
"What are you driving, Shawn?" She demanded.
"Shhhh…goodnight, my wife." He clicked off.
Sylvia clicked off and covered her mouth as a sob was on the brink of erupting. He was getting rid of John Sykes car. That's what they were doing. That had to be it. How else could he have left with his father in his truck and now be driving something else, when all of their vehicles were parked outside. She lay there with her mouth covered, trying to ward off the imminent weeping. She couldn't bear the thought of it. She couldn't bear the thought of him in that role. Doing such a thing. Her hand went down to her lower belly, growing daily. She carried his child in her womb. His other child lay in the other room. His sister behind her. She was surrounded by him. Even with him absent, she was surrounded by him. His brother across the road. Wiping at her tears she wondered how had it come to this? How had this one man, come into her life, gripping her within as tightly as he had, and she slowly allowing it, and not know who or what he was?
With absolute clear certainty, her
husband had killed a man.
Yes, someone that was deserving of punishment for all that he'd done to Shanna, but did that mean he deserved to die? Was he really as dangerous as Shanna thought, as she'd convinced her brother's that he was? Sylvia had to keep reminding herself of all the things he'd done to her. Yes, he was really despicable, but to the point of him deserving death? She thought about the bible, God's word, eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, life for life. Because John Sykes had taken two of his own children's lives with his violence, did that justify what Shawn was more than likely guilty of? Sylvia's hand went to her head, rubbing her eyes. She was so tired of thinking. She was so tired of crying. Tired of drama in her life. All she'd ever wanted was peace and quiet. A gentle world in which she could live, and leave others to do the same. She'd left Chicago to escape the violence, fear and insecurity that came with living there. She'd seen the population of Camp Daniels, noted the peaceful setting and small town feel, and eagerly planted herself there. All had been fine. She'd been alone, content and in charge of her world.
And then that grin. Those eyes. That man.
Sylvia sniffed. "God please.. help me." She turned into her pillow, softly crying into the night.
* * *
It was early the next morning and Crystal knew what she had to do. She had put it off and put it off; no more delays. Her mother and Shanna were up first thing, going to the house across the road to give it one more check over just in case, before the wrecking crew came.
Crystal was taking her boys into day care, because they needed that time to play with other children their ages; now that she wasn't working, attending school only, thanks to Shawn and her mother. She only dropped them off for a few hours in the morning just to get them out of her mom and Shawn's hair. Along for the ride was Angela, whom she would be dropping off at school as well—it was her last week. Once she was free of everyone, she went directly to the library to look up the necessary forms she needed. The previous night, she'd looked into it over the Internet on her mother's computer and found that she could get the forms for free from the library. Everywhere else, there was a charge.
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