Mrs. Eckerty stood off to the side as if to give me a better view of the TV. I approached the screen, trying to make sense of what I’d just heard.
“You may recall that Mr. Jonson was trying to make a right-hand turn onto I-25 from East Wolfensberger Road. He overshot the turn and wound up driving his Prius onto the patch of land between the on-ramp and the interstate, rolling over in the process. An official at Castle Rock Adventist Hospital spoke with the media today to let us know of Mr. Jonson’s passing. He spent a total of fifteen days in a coma, never regaining consciousness. The strange thing about this, according to the hospital, is that Mr. Jonson never received a single visitor the entire time he was there.”
Was that how Keith came to learn of me in the hospital at the University of Colorado, by visiting the wrong hospital altogether? It made me wonder.
“How could no one know that Tyler was in the hospital? Didn’t the authorities try to notify his loved ones?” I breathed out loud.
Mrs. Eckerty looked at me. “I knew Tyler was there. Tyler always lent me sugar whenever I asked. That’s how I knew you weren’t him.”
“You do? I mean, besides the fact that he just died in his hospital bed, right?” I said, pointing to the TV. I pushed the mute button on the TV to better hear Mrs. Eckerty.
“Yes,” she said, a sad glint in her eyes. “I do say, you really resemble Tyler. You could pass for his twin.”
“I’ve been getting that a lot lately,” I told her. “I just wish I knew why Faux-Mom and the others hadn’t heard about Tyler’s car accident.”
“Who?” Mrs. Eckerty asked.
A sting of warmth filled my cheeks. “Never mind. So how did you know something was up?”
“Besides the news? I noticed Tyler’s Prius hadn’t been out there for two weeks. I meant to ask Mr. Keith about it, but he hardly ever appeared to be home.”
Another chill swam about in my innards. The more I got to know this Keith, the less I liked. And something told me that his last fight with the true Tyler may have had something to do with Tyler’s demise.
“I’m glad you came over,” I said.
“I don’t trust Mr. Keith. He never seems to smile.”
I pursed my lips at this. “Yeah, you’re right. He does seem to have an anger issue.”
“You might want to get out of here before he gets back.”
“And just where would I go?” I asked. “I’m not even from around here. I don’t know a single thing about Colorado, aside from the fact that I somehow wound up here against my will.”
“Did Mr. Keith kidnap you?”
My shoulders went up in a bold shrug, the perplexity of this situation getting the best of me. I wanted to believe that I had not been abducted but so far everything pointed to the contrary, especially the way Keith acted so controlling around me.
“If he did, he went to a lot of trouble to get me all the way here,” I muttered.
Mrs. Eckerty’s brown eyes studied me intensely.
“Where are you from?”
I pointed down at the Washington State brochures. “Seattle. One night, I was studying in my dorm room; the next, I was lying in a hospital bed some thirteen-hundred miles away. I have no idea how I got here, but I will get home somehow.”
“I wish I could be of more help,” she said with a sigh, returning to the door.
“You’ve already done a lot. At least now I know I have one friend here.”
“Right,” she said, frowning.
“Okay, go home to your apartment. Keep an eye out for when he leaves again. I’m going to do my part not to piss him off until I can get away from here. If I leave now, he’s only going to hurt someone. If I stay, I can at least keep people out of harm’s way.”
“What about you?” Mrs. Eckerty asked. “Aren’t you worried about what he might do to you?”
“I can handle myself. It’s everyone else I’m worried about.”
She nodded and went out the door at once. I shut and locked it behind her, watching her make it home safely to her apartment.
CHAPTER 7
A LACK OF TRUST
Keith’s Apartment,
Monument, Colorado
7:30 p.m., Friday, March 18, 2016
After Mrs. Eckerty retreated to her home, I went into the bedroom that Keith and Tyler must have shared. Digging through the dressers, I came upon pajama pants and a T-shirt that fit me. As I climbed into the clothing, I glanced over at the queen size bed waiting for me. Only one half of the bed was made, the half Keith probably slept in since Tyler hadn’t been around for at least two weeks.
I left the bedroom, determined not to sleep there. The couch was perfectly fine for my sleeping needs. I’d just have to sleep with one eye open whenever Keith was around.
Downstairs, I found a chicken pot pie in the freezer and opted for that. Once cooked and eaten it gave me a little heartburn, but this I could deal with. Who knew what would happen if I crossed Keith?
I locked the front door as I settled in for the night. I threw on a ratty old blanket I found in a living room closet as I went to rest. As I lay on the living room sofa, starting to drift off into sleep, I couldn’t shake a feeling of uncertainty about Keith. What did he know? What had happened leading up to Tyler’s car accident? Had he and Keith been fighting? What exactly wasn’t Keith saying?
The instant I closed my eyes, someone screamed my name. I tried to open my eyes, but for some reason couldn’t. A hand pushed my shoulder, trying to get my attention. I growled and clumsily threw something at them. The fact that it didn’t make a sound suggested that I hurled something soft at them.
“Come on, Austin! You need to wake up!”
Bafflement wrapped itself around my mind. Why would Keith call me Austin? He was so bent on me being Tyler Jonson that he never bothered to hear me out. What kind of game was he trying to play with me here?
I finally opened my eyes a crack. A blurry silhouette towered over me, the shadow’s frame matching Tony’s bulk. I rushed to open my eyes all the way and sit up. A flash of white light filled the air again and I found myself sitting on Keith’s couch once again. My heart sank at this.
“What the hell was that about?” I looked up at the ceiling, as though perhaps an invisible observer clung to the fan.
Silence. I reached for a remote control and turned on the TV. Overnight paid advertising saturated the local market, but I found a little reprieve on cable. I came upon an old episode of Three’s Company and decided to watch that. But the actors who played the characters were not the ones I’d watched before. Instead of John Ritter, Joyce De Witt, and Suzanne Somers, there were three people whose names I didn’t immediately recognize.
“This is weird,” I said, but shrugged it off. I allowed this watered-down version of a classic TV show to play until I dozed off.
When I awoke next, I looked outside and found snow falling right outside the window, a light flurry. The Honda was still gone. If snow was falling, there stood a slight chance that Keith got stuck wherever he’d gone. At least I’d enjoy a reprieve from him. The freezer was well-stocked with pot pies, and there was enough food in the lower half of the fridge to sustain me for a few days. This brought a smile to my lips at first until I realized this might’ve been his plan all along. Was he really going to keep me here against my will? Was that why he didn’t want me talking to Mrs. Eckerty?
Who are you, Keith? What the hell do you really want?
As I thought those questions, another thought sprang to mind. His Civic may not have been parked right out in front, but he may have parked it down the street to throw me off guard.
After helping myself to another pot pie and getting dressed, I stepped toward the front door. My fingers wrapped around the knob and I pulled it towards me. Cold air rushed at my face, a few snowflakes dusting me. I shut the door again and leaned back against it. I needed help in the worst way. The only person who seemed to be of any help at all was Mrs. Eckerty. But I couldn’t in all good conscienc
e put her in harm’s way.
A phone rang from somewhere in the house. The ringtone suggested a cell phone, not a landline. Had Keith left his phone behind somehow?
The electronic music came from Keith’s bedroom upstairs. I grumbled to myself, the temptation to go in there too great to resist. I dragged myself to the bedroom door on the second floor. I went in and found the space pitch-black. My fingers crept about the wall until they discovered the light switch. Dim illumination soon fed my vision, leading me to discover that the lone bedroom window had been boarded up. As I stepped toward it, I heard the slight crinkle of glass underneath my shoes, near the window. I dropped to my knees and found tiny shards of the missing window pane scattered about the floor.
What happened in here? I wondered.
The ringtone played again, a medley I recognized as Frank Sinatra’s “If You Go Away.” I didn’t take Keith to be much of a Sinatra fan, but thanks to streaming internet radio back home, I was familiar with the crooner. I found the source of the ringtone, an iPhone lying on an end table. I glanced at it and saw that the person calling was Mom. Whose mother, though; Keith’s or Tyler’s? I went to answer it, thankful that the phone didn’t need a passcode from me.
“Hello?” I asked.
“Tyler! I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it to your welcome home party yesterday,” Faux-Mom said.
“Oh,” I said, now having an answer as to who the phone belonged to. “That’s okay. I needed to rest anyhow.”
“I know. I meant to come over last night, but something came up and I forgot,” she said.
I pursed my lips at this. At least I wasn’t the real Tyler, or else this might have bothered me some. Faux-Mom impressed me less the more I got to know her. Between her and Keith, I really didn’t have the patience to deal with their quirks.
“You’re okay. I forgive you,” I said, telling her what she seemed most eager to hear.
“Really?” The way she sounded over the phone just now, I didn’t believe she bought it.
“Yes. I’m not mad. Really.” My words came out as politely as I could muster. Leaving the emotion out of them proved easier for her than it had for Keith.
A snort carried through the line. “That’s a first.”
Curiosity got the better of me just then.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Usually you throw things back in my face every time I don’t live up to your expectations. What do you want, Tyler?”
“I don’t want anything, really,” I told her. Thoughts of Seattle clung to my mind with every word I uttered. Guilt again gnawed at me, but I remained smart about this. I couldn’t allow another slip-up to ruin things. If Keith had flipped out on me during the car ride over, who knew how Faux-Mom might react?
“Liar,” she grunted. “Obviously, you want something or you wouldn’t be treating me so nicely.”
“Can’t a son just show his mother a little kindness without having his motivations questioned?”
More derisive laughter erupted from the phone. “Don’t talk down to me like I’m an idiot, Tyler. My God, is this how you treat Keith? No wonder he came over to my place this morning.”
My teeth sank into my lower lip. Why had he gone and done that? Was he trying to turn Faux-Mom against me? The mysterious circumstances of his absence did not make me feel great at all. The fact he had to go and talk with Faux-Mom about something, likely me, made me want to put my back against the wall.
“Is he okay?” I asked, avoiding blurting out the question I really wanted answered.
“He said you weren’t making a lick of sense, or at least that’s how he phrased it. What’s going on with you, Tyler? Do we need to take you back to the hospital?”
“If you want me to go back, I will.”
“Just stop it, Tyler. You’ve broken Keith’s heart and now you’re trying to mess with my mind. We’re not playing your stupid little games. Just cut the crap right now and grow up.”
Incensed, my cheeks and chest burned. I wanted to tell her off right then and there, but that little voice—my own this time—spoke to me in my head just then
Let it go, Austin. These people don’t realize that their Tyler is gone. Just find a way to let them down gently. You don’t have to be a monster to stand up for yourself.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and made sure I meant it. “It was wrong of me to treat you and Keith like that. It won’t happen again.”
“Make sure it doesn’t,” she said with a last rasp of anger. “I’ll tell Keith it’s safe for him to come back home.”
I wanted to ask her how long it’d take for Keith to get back from her place, but thought better of it.
“Why don’t I just call him?” I volunteered, sensing this to be a safer question.
“He turned his phone off.”
I pursed my lips. “Well, thank you for helping us out.”
“I just want to see the both of you happy. You’re so perfect for one another. You know, it’s so weird. Before, when you were just a young boy, not even three years of age, I had this silly thought that you’d grow up to marry the woman of your dreams.”
“That’s not a silly thought,” I told her.
“Oh, Tyler. It was a silly thought because I assumed that you were going to be straight. I had never in a million years ever thought you’d be gay.”
I wasn’t because, of course, I wasn’t Tyler. But I noticed a sadness in her voice, as though she blamed herself for how her real son had turned out, or for how she handled the situation when he came out to her.
“You couldn’t have known that at the time,” I said in a whisper.
“And I was a complete abomination to you, and to Keith, all because I’d always dreamed of having a daughter-in-law. I’ve always wanted a daughter. Don’t get me wrong, Tyler. You’re the best thing to ever happen in my life. I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world,” she said, voice now trembling.
I frowned. “I’m sensing a ‘but’ here.”
“Oh, my poor boy. You have no idea the kinds of things I dreamed about doing with a daughter. We would give each other makeovers, have slumber parties, celebrate her sweet sixteen. The sorts of things a mother and daughter ought to do.”
“The things you can’t do with a son,” I breathed.
“You must think I’m the world’s worst mother,” she said.
The logic in my brain suspected this was an act. Why were these people so damn manipulative?
“No one’s perfect, Mom. I’ve made mistakes, you’ve made mistakes, even Keith has made mistakes.”
“Hah. Keith’s so perfect. I really can’t see him making any mistakes.”
Those words put me on high alert. How could she not see that Keith was far from perfect? Why was she so eager to dismiss his shortcomings, when she had put me on blast just a few minutes earlier?
“Maybe Keith’s more discreet about his errors than I am,” I said, trying to diffuse the tension once again rising within me.
“That must be it. I’ve never seen him do any wrong.”
Good thing you weren’t with him in the car ride over from the hospital.
“I’ll make sure to make things work with him. He’s the love of my life, and I never want anyone else.”
She giggled. “You have no idea how happy that makes me to hear you say, Tyler. Toodles!”
I turned off the phone and set it down on the window sill. I pulled the drapes over the window and returned to what I was doing before. Thoughts of dashing out of the apartment tempted me yet again, but I didn’t want to piss off either one of those two. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Tyler’s death might not have been such a coincidence.
What if they’re in cahoots? What if there’s something they don’t want other people to know? Then, a darker thought came to me. What if they’re criminals?
CHAPTER 8
A MOST SUSPICIOUS ONE
Keith’s Apartment
Monument, Colorado,
&
nbsp; 9:30 am,
Saturday, March 19, 2016
Another chicken pot pie fell victim to my mouth and gut tag-team by mid-morning. I really wasn’t in the mood for expired Lucky Charms, and I didn’t exactly have the culinary prowess to bake anything from scratch.
After breakfast, I glanced out the front living room window. The whole Eckerty family climbed into their Dodge Caravan and drove off. They were gone by the time I’d thought to run after them.
Just then, a familiar black Honda pulled into a parking slot. Keith got out from the car and flipped the bird in the Eckertys’ direction. A cigarette dangled from his lips and his nostrils projected a puff of smoke into the air. He reached into the backseat of his car for something. At this, I pulled the drapes shut and retreated to the couch, fumbling about for the TV remote. I put on the first thing to come on, golf of all things, and timed it just right so that I cast a great yawn and a stretch the second Keith came strolling in.
“You’re back,” I said, making my voice low so that it sounded like I’d just woken up.
“Yeah, I’m back,” Keith muttered, slamming the door behind him. “You wouldn’t believe what that bitch Eckerty and her dipshit husband just tried to do.”
Before I even had a chance to ask him what happened, he cut me off.
“Those idiots nearly drove me off the road. I swear, some people just shouldn’t be allowed to live.”
“Don’t you mean drive?” I asked him, pulling the couch blanket closer to my body.
“That’s what I said. Drive,” he said, grimacing.
“Still thinking of having her deported?” I dared to ask, not sure how the question might go over with him.
“And her pathetic little family, too. I know her husband’s a natural citizen, but might as well just kick out the whole fucking lot of them, right?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, my gaze drifted back to the golf game that I had no choice but to feign interest in. At least this made it easier for me to act all sleepy-eyed.
“I asked you a question,” he pointed out when I still hadn’t looked his way. “What’s going on?”
Life Flashes Page 5
