His drunken nasty laugh repeated. “Sure, ya do, honey. And I got a big gun out here for you.”
“I’m serious.”
“Look, Lizzie, don’t play this shit with me. I want you.”
“I don’t want you.” She sat down in the bathtub as far from the door as she could get. “Please, C.J. Go away. Leave me alone.”
BAM! He bashed against the door. She heard it splinter.
“C.J. Don’t.”
Another crash and the door bowed inward. “I’m coming in, Lizzie.” A pause and then the door burst, the frame splintering away from the wall. C.J., half naked, his face screwed up in anger, stood there breathing heavily.
Lizzie steadied the shotgun.
C.J. stared in disbelief. “Well, fuck. You do have a shotgun.” His eyes flitted from the shotgun to her face. “But you ain’t gonna use it or you already woulda.”
“Curtis! Please, don’t come any closer.” In the other room Saj started to cry.
“You’re even prettier when you’re angry and scared.” He stepped toward her.
Another step forward and he could touch the shotgun. Then he would have control again. “No,” Lizzie whispered. She could feel the metal of the trigger pressed into the flesh of her finger. “C.J., please.” She aimed the gun at his crotch.
His hand reached for the barrel. “You ain’t gonna hurt me, Crazy Lizzie.”
“Don’t!” She screamed. I never want to feel that dirty again. Lizzie let the barrel drop.
He grabbed and pulled on the gun.
“No.” Lizzie closed her eyes. Never again. She pulled the trigger.
The shotgun exploded in her hands, bouncing back toward her. The massive explosion in the small room silenced all other sound.
Sound returned: Saj’s panicked baby cries. C.J. howling. Lizzie opened her eyes.
He wobbled in front of her, his bloody hand pressing against his thigh. Blood pumped in spurts from under his hand.
Femoral artery, some logical part of Lizzie’s brain relayed. She wanted him to stop. She didn’t want to kill him.
C.J. lifted his eyes to hers. His face contorted, pale. “I wanted you.” He collapsed in a heap on the cream colored bathmat, now soaked black with blood. Blood pumped from his thigh, but not so fast. His body shook. His breath hissed, and he was still.
If he’s not dead, he will be soon. “C.J., you stupid fucker. Why’d you make me do that?” Lizzie had no idea the human body could hold so much blood.
Saj wailed.
She stepped out of the end of the bathtub as far from the body as she could. She did not let go of her death-grip on the gun.
“Saj, I’m coming.” Her pajama pants fell around her legs. She kicked them off and tossed them on the floor where blood flowed under the tub. “Shit, what a mess.”
Saj stood in the crib crying, pulling himself back and forth against the wall of the crib. “Saj, honey, it’s all right. Sissie’s okay.” Like Hell she is. She leaned the shotgun against the crib. “Sissie had trouble.”
She lifted him out of the crib and held his little shaking body to hers. Her sobs echoed his, her tears flowed to mingle with the hot wet streaks on his cheeks. Her voice joined his in a wail of fear and anguish. Eventually their keening subsided.
Lizzie sniffed, wiping her nose. “Sissie should check your diaper.”
“Sis sis,” he agreed.
She took one last deep shaking breath. Saj’s diaper needed changing. She could do that. She did. Then she mixed him up a bottle with formula, testing the water from the microwave on her wrist to make certain it wouldn’t burn him. For a moment she lost herself in the routine. Then she laid Saj in his crib with the bottle. He sucked hungrily, everything again right in his world. She envied him. His eyelids drooped. She picked up the shotgun and shut the light off.
Lizzie pulled on her mom’s gardening jeans and a flannel shirt from the closet, leaning the shotgun inside. She returned to the carnage of the bathroom. Curtis’s body lay as she had left him. His empty eyes stared at the ceiling. Part of her wanted to close the lids, so she didn’t have to see those eyes. But if that would offer his soul some level of peace, she wasn’t ready to grant him that, not yet. She remembered trying to read Dante. This sick bastard needed to spend a long time in purgatory at least. Not that she believed in souls or an afterlife.
She noticed her blood spattered hands, flipped the hot water to high, took the rubbing alcohol out of the medicine cabinet and poured it over her hands. When the water was steaming she stuck her hands under and rubbed at the red spots. The water burned, but she wanted to be clean, and it helped her focus, to feel alive. She scrubbed her hands dry on the “Guest” hand towel and tossed it toward the clothes hamper. Then she put on some latex gloves from the first aid kit.
The blood-soaked bathmat was large, and had most of the mess on it. She grabbed the corners and tugged it out of the room. His left leg caught on the remnants of the door. She flipped it over her arm and continued pulling.
Dammit, he's heavy. “C.J., you fucking asshole.” The smell of blood, death and beer threatened to make her vomit. She looked away, down the hall. Blood was smeared all over the carpet. Well, it had been ugly before.
When she got to the front door her breaths heaved and her shoulders ached. She stood and shook herself out. She opened the door. His body seemed stiffer. How long did it take for rigor mortis to set in? She had no idea.
At the base of the steps, outside the front door, she let his legs fall. His body leaned on the steps; his unseeing eyes stared at the sky. She started crying again. Silently this time. Through her tears, she stabbed her latex-covered finger in the blood and wrote one word on his white t-shirt: Fucker. She stared at blood on her hand. She’d done this. C.J. was dead. They’d been friends. Sort of. She reached up and slid his eyelids shut. I’m sorry. His body was already too cold.
Lizzie wiped her finger on the grass. Then rage overtook the sadness and regret. Never again. You’re never gonna rape anyone again. Never. Never. Never. She punctuated each thought with a kick. Her body shook, she dropped to her knees, and puked all over his legs.
She sidled away from the body and hugged herself, arms around her legs in the pre-dawn light.
After a while, cold brought her back to herself. She stumbled inside, shutting and locking the door behind her, She retrieved the shotgun and cleaned herself up in the kitchen sink. In the other room Saj began to cry.
“I’m coming, Saj.” She went to him carrying the shotgun. “Come on, little man.” His cries changed to a whimper at her voice. “Sissie’ll hold you.” She picked up the binky and put it in his mouth. She took him into the front room and sat down in the recliner, spinning it to face the door.
She balanced the shotgun on her lap and pulled Saj onto her chest, his head nestled under her chin.
He snuggled against her—his breath calm and his eyes closed as he sucked the binky. Lizzie watched his back rise and fall. She faded into sleep, but kept jerking awake. Each time, her heart racing, she expected to see the bloody apparition of C.J. coming through the door. Too many damn zombie movies.
11
A SOUND JERKED LIZZIE AWAKE. Someone was pounding on the door. Jesus, C.J. is on the porch and coming in.
“Lizzie!?”
The knob turned. She pulled the trigger and the shotgun blasted in her arms. The force spun the chair and slammed the door, leaving holes where the morning light streamed in.
“Jesus fuck, Lizzie! You shot me! It’s Zach, for fuck’s sake.”
Zach. Lizzie dropped the shotgun on the floor. Saj’s eyes were wide awake, and his mouth worked, but no sound came out.
“Zach. Sorry. It’s safe. The gun is on the floor.”
“Unlock the door.”
Lizzie stumbled to the door, twisted the deadbolt and swung it open. Zach’s head poked in as Saj’s cry took shape.
“What the Hell happened, Liz?”
“Shh, shush, Saj. Sissie’s better now. No mo
re loud noises.” He settled down when she stuck her thumb in his mouth, his mouth got suction and his sharp tiny teeth bit down.
“C.J. a.k.a. Big Curtis. That’s what happened.” She couldn’t say anymore or she would be a quivering mass on the floor.
Zach stared at her, immobile.
“I shot you?” Lizzie asked.
That distracted him. “Just a little. Don’t think anything got inside.” He held up his right hand, a couple spots oozed a little blood. “Nev, you can come in.”
Nev’s slim blue jean and sweatshirt clad form slipped inside the door. “Jesus, Lizzie. What happened?”
As soon as Nev came through the door, Lizzie rose and rushed to her. She hugged her friend close with one arm still cradling Saj.
“Where the hell were you guys?” Lizzie couldn’t say anything more. In Nev’s hold, her body shook.
Zach pulled the fussing Saj from her arms, Lizzie reached for him, but Zach ‘flew’ him up in the air and made goofy faces. Saj stopped whining and giggled.
Nev led her upstairs, helped her change out of her bloody clothes. Lizzie dressed mechanically then collapsed onto the bed, pulling herself into a little ball, while her friend tucked her in.
Lizzie shook while Nev ran her fingers through her hair. After a time the shaking subsided.
Nev rubbed her back. “You can talk when you want to, Liz. But you don’t have to.”
Lizzie lay there a long time. “Why me? Do I have a fucking ‘Rape Me’ sign on my back?”
“Oh, my god.” Nev hugged Lizzie’s back. “He was always a jerk, but, I didn’t think he’d—”
“Me neither. Why did he have to do it here? In this house? It’s all I have left of Mama and Jason.”
“I’m so sorry, Lizzie.”
Lizzie saw sympathetic tears on Nev’s pale cheeks. She sat up. “I need to get out. I need a shower. I can’t be here; I need to go someplace that doesn’t smell like death.
“We’ll figure it out.” Nev held her hands out, Lizzie let herself be pulled into that warm safety again.
But she couldn’t stay still. “I need a drink and a cigarette.”
“Maybe eat something first?”
“Maybe.”
Lizzie sat at the picnic table in the back yard with a cigarette and a bottle of whiskey. She didn’t touch the whiskey, but for once she smoked the whole cigarette. She felt calmer as she inhaled. The wind blew the lame tire swing back and forth. Lizzie remembered pushing Jayce on it, and on other swings in parks. He always wanted to go higher and higher. Until the time he’d flipped upside down and face-planted on a tree root sticking out of the ground. There had been so much blood. Lizzie shook herself.
Nev brought Saj out. “Can you take him?”
Lizzie nodded, sucking on the last of the cigarette and dropping on the ground to twist it under her foot.
“You thought of where you want to go?”
Lizzie shook her head and blew out the last of the smoke. She reached for Saj and laid his sleeping form in her lap. “Only away.”
Nev kissed her forehead, warming up Lizzie’s insides a bit. “All right. You think and we’ll get you packed.” Nev turned and Lizzie watched her lithe runner’s body as she jogged back into the house.
Saj slept on her lap while she stared off at the clouds. Where? Was there anywhere she wanted to be? Saj’s eyes opened. “Sissy.”
“I’m here, baby.” Her hands stroked his silky hair. His eyes fell closed again. She thought about taking a drink, but the effort necessary exceeded her desire. She stared at Saj’s little chest rising and falling. Her racing thoughts calmed as she watched his little face, his eyes twitching behind his lids. “What are you dreaming about, Saj?” She felt her own breathing relax. The clouds were moving in the distance.
The door opened behind her. She spun her head—Nev and Zach. They were talking quietly and intently. Something about the body. They stopped talking as they approached.
Christ, they probably think I’m really going crazy now.
Zach had a plate of sandwiches. He placed one in her hand. “Here, eat something.” He mussed up her hair.
Nev’s arms wrapped around her. “We got you all packed, girl. I got clothes and toiletries. Zach got your notebooks and journals.”
“Everything’s loaded.” Zach glanced around the yard as he munched his sandwich. “Any last requests? Anything you can’t bear to leave behind?”
How about everything? Lizzie shook her head. “I don’t want to leave my music collection, but we can come back. Not like someone’s going to steal it.”
Zach sat across from her and tapped his fingers on the table. “Where do you want to go? We could go down to my Gramp’s place. It’s in the middle of the sticks.”
“Do you want to go there, Lizzie?” Nevaeh asked.
She shrugged. Where do I want to go? Not to some stranger’s house. Lizzie set down the sandwich. She wasn’t hungry, but she’d eaten half of it. “No, but if Zach wants to…”
“I don’t, not really,” Zach said. “Probably stop by at some point. Besides we’ve got our choice of rich neighborhoods.”
Lizzie’s mind leaped. “There’s a house out on Lake Whatcom. My ex, Chad, lived there when his dad was home. Chad hated his dad. The house is really nice in a stuck up, rich-businessman kind of way. We sometimes used it when his dad was out of town.” She laughed wryly. “Sometimes I think he dated me to piss off his uptight father. If we’re lucky he was away when the virus hit.”
They didn’t bother cleaning up the lunch leftovers.
Lizzie looked up the address in her phone and told Zach where to go. Mama had made her text her where she was going to be. Chad had always driven, so she wasn’t sure she could find it without help. She plugged her player in the auxiliary jack. Lynyrd Skynyrd came on.
“Unluckiest band in history, “Zach said. “Seems like a good soundtrack for the day.” He sang along. “‘Hell, yeah. Ooh that smell, can't you smell that smell?’”
Lizzie tried to laugh at his off-key singing, but the subject of the song twisted her gut. “Zach, I’m gonna skip this song.” He shrugged as “Lady Luck” by The Black Crowes came on.
“Could we listen to something from this century?” Nev asked. “Maybe after this song?”
Lizzie shook her head. “Nothing on my player younger than me, except U2.”
Nev rolled her eyes. “You need to get new music. It’s all gonna be old soon enough.”
Lizzie lit another cigarette and rolled the window all the way down, paying attention to the streets. She figured she should be able to find it again if she had to. It was down a long driveway through trees and invisible from the road. “Solar power.” Zach nodded, scanning the house. “Cool. Good choice, Lizzie.”
“Let me go by myself. In case his dad is there. Okay?”
“Good idea,” Nev said, “You sure we should be breaking in?”
Lizzie smiled. “You never made a good criminal.” She jumped down from the Tank, ground out her cigarette on the ground and put it in the soda can in the door. If this was going to be home, she could at least keep it nice. The stray leaves and branches covering the always clean and neat multi-texture driveway suggested no one had been here this season.
She knocked on the door, rang the doorbell and waited. Then she glanced back at the Tank and shrugged. After a few minutes, she stepped into the rock ‘garden.’ They hadn’t grown at all since the last time she’d seen them. She picked up one of the larger red volcanic rocks. Her fingers squeezed inside the hole in the bottom and loosened a key. She held it up and waved her friends over.
As she slid the key into the lock she had a momentary twinge of guilt. Like she was using Chad. And he was dead. But Chad always wanted to give her all she wanted. If only she knew what she wanted. She took a deep breath, noticing how fresh the air smelled out here, turned the key and pushed the door open. A loud warning beep repeated.
“Shit.” The alarm. Hopefully he hadn’t changed the c
ode. She punched in the numbers—hoping she remembered. The beeping stopped and she breathed again.
Lizzie walked through the clean, empty house and out to the back deck. Something smelled. She followed her nose and found the emaciated body of a big mastiff out back stuck in its chain-link fence enclosure. Lizzie saw where it had tried to dig itself out under the fence, but it was strong with poles embedded in a wall of cement. Another perfect prison for one of man’s best friends.
Zach came up behind her. “Awww, shit.”
“What a shame,” Nev said, cradling Saj and blocking his eyes. “Saj, look at the lake. Big lake.”
Zach found a shovel and dug a grave on the slope by the lake while Nev and Lizzie explored the house and got some dinner going.
After dinner, as the sun set, they all went down to the newly covered grave. No one said anything. Lizzie wanted to, but nothing seemed profound enough. She held Saj tight, kneeling to smooth the dirt. Zach and Nev wrapped her in their arms as she held Saj. He clung to her, eyes wide. For once he did not cry. Powerlessness overwhelmed her. She let herself be comforted by the warmth of her friends.
When the cool night wind came and the sobs stilled, Lizzie sniffed and let them help her to her feet. The sun had passed behind the dark hills and in between the scattered clouds a few evening stars sprinkled the sky.
Lizzie pulled her shoulders back. Saj was heavy, asleep in her arms. “I’m gonna crash. Zach, you can have Chad’s room. It’s down the hall, second door on the left. Nev, let’s take the giant bed in the master suite. There’s room for you, me and Saj.”
“You okay, Liz?” Nev asked.
“Okay as I’m gonna be for a while. I need sleep and Saj here’s my sleeping pill.” Lizzie figured they’d be talking about her and how screwed up she was, but tonight she didn’t care. She took Saj and collapsed into bed.
The following morning after a quiet breakfast, Lizzie did the dishes.
“Why not throw them out?” Zach asked.
“We’ll keep this place nice; might become home.”
ALL IS SILENCE Page 8
