Cicada Spring

by Christian Galacar

  “And what’d you say?”

  “I said I did. I mean, I don’t really go to it anymore. Not like I did when I was younger. It’s not as fun when you aren’t a ten-year-old. But I said I was aware of how important it was.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “He got real quiet after that. He didn’t speak again until we showed up at the water department. When we got there he pulled into a spot at the far end of the lot. I remember thinking that was weird too because the place was empty, he could’ve parked anywhere, and he chose a spot nowhere near the building. By then I sort of had an idea something was up. I mean, I had no idea what was actually about to happen, but I could sense something was wrong. He shut off the car and turned to me. Then he smiled at me all weird. His eyes were all watery and dark. It was almost like he was a completely different person from the man I’d met earlier. God, I can still see that face when I go to sleep at night. It was like he was possessed or something.” Kara stalled for a moment and felt herself biting down on her lip. She caught herself and stopped, continuing with what she was saying. “He said he was going to teach me some respect. He called me a spoiled little brat or something along those lines… and that’s when he hit me.”

  “Respect?” Catherine cut in. “Why would he say that? Had you done something that day that he’d gotten mad about? Been disrespectful?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so,” Kara said. “If I did, I don’t know what it was. Like I said, I barely said twenty words to him.”

  “Okay. Go on.”

  “After he hit me, he got out of the car and started walking around to my door. I pushed down the lock but the window was down and I couldn’t roll it up in time. He got the door open and he dragged me out and pushed me into the backseat. He was talking to himself the whole time. I remember that. It was really strange. He kept saying something about me being a liar. I couldn’t really understand everything he was saying, but I kept hearing the word ‘liar’ over and over again… that and ‘little bitch’. He kept calling me a little bitch with no respect. At first I tried to fight back, but he was too strong. He pinned my arms down, and eventually I just gave up and let him do what he wanted. I thought he might kill me if I didn’t.”

  Kara brought her hand to her face and wiped her eyes. There were tears, but she couldn’t remember crying.

  “Are you okay?” Catherine asked, and put her hand on Kara’s shoulder. “We can stop. We don’t have to go any further with this if you—”

  “No. I’m fine,” Kara said, and stiffened her body. “Really. I am.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes. I wanna finish. I’m almost through.”

  “Go on, then.”

  “When he was done he told me to get out of his car. He told me that if I’d bled on anything that he’d come back and teach me another lesson. Then it was over and it all became kind of a blur. Almost like a bad dream. The next thing I know I was sitting there in the parking lot watching as his car drove away. I couldn’t tell you if the whole thing had lasted two minutes or two hours.”

  “How did you get home?”

  “I walked. Took the back roads so nobody would see me. My face was bleeding pretty badly, and I didn’t want to have to explain to anyone what had happened to me. At that point I thought I would never tell anyone what had happened. I was sure of it. Anyway, I walked to the Saver Mart and took the path. Then I stopped and cleaned myself off at the creek before I went home.”

  Catherine sighed. This next question seemed as though it pained her to ask. “Do you remember anything funny about his body? Any distinguishable marks?”

  “What do you mean?” Kara asked, confused.

  “Like a birthmark or anything? Something that only certain people could know about? Certain people like his wife… or his doctor.”

  “Oh. No, I didn’t notice anything. I had my eyes closed while he was… you know—”

  “Okay. That’s okay.” Catherine put up a hand and waved it dismissively.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t think of anything more,” Kara said. “Did I at least help a little?”

  “You did, sweetie. You helped a lot. And you don’t need to apologize. I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m sorry I had to put you through that again.”

  There was a doubtful look shadowing Catherine’s face. It was a look that told the truth behind her words. The expression was akin to the look on Geronimo’s face when Kara ended their game of fetch. The look was disappointment.

  “That’s all right. It’s not so hard to think about anymore,” Kara said, a faint, reassuring smile surfacing. She wanted to show Catherine that everything was okay. That she would be okay. That everything would be okay. That whether or not Harry Bennett ever saw the inside of a jail cell would not change the fact that she, Kara, would find herself again.

  But was that really true? Would everything really be okay? She couldn’t know for sure. But what she did know was that the familiar taste of blood was on her tongue again. The familiar taste that came when she brought her mind to the present by way of her secret trick.

  Kara wiped the back of her hand over her lips. When she pulled it away there was a thin streak of blood.

  “You all right?” Catherine asked. “You’re bleeding.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. This stupid cut just won’t heal,” Kara said. “I don’t know why. I’ve tried everything, but it won’t heal. Every time I think it’s getting better, it opens back up.” She felt guilty for lying; she knew exactly why the cut wouldn’t heal, but this time she didn’t even remember toying with it.

  “Here.” Catherine handed Kara a tissue. “Take this and put pressure on it.”

  Kara took the tissue and did as she was instructed. “Thank you,” she said.

  And for the next few minutes, while the bleeding stopped, the two of them sat and looked out over the backyard, neither saying a word. There was nothing left to say. No questions left to ask. No answers left to give.

  This moment was a peaceful pardon from their lives, a brief glimpse into the heart of something beautiful. The electric hum of the cicadas drowned out any unpleasant thoughts and swept away the rubble of both of their recently excavated minds. There, in those few minutes, there was only nature. There was only there. There was only then. And after a while, when the moment had run its course and the space between the two women filled with tired sighs, shifting postures, and the anticipation of parting words, Kara reached over and took Catherine’s hand and held it tight. She thought Catherine might need that.

  And she needed it, too.

  Catherine waited until the Prices’ house was out of view until she pulled the car over and began to cry. She cried for herself. For the joy of release from her secret. She cried because it still hurt. Because it felt good. But mostly she cried for Kara because there was nothing she could do for her.

  Harry Bennett was going to get away with what he’d done.

  CHAPTER 24

  “Is it true, Dad? Is Kara Price really telling people she was attacked by that mayor guy? Whatsis name?” Maddie Gaines asked casually between sips of milk.

  Gaines, leaning over his plate of meatloaf and mashed potatoes, sat bolt upright and coughed. His eyes began to water. “What’d you just say?” he said with a choked voice, trying to clear the food out of his windpipe. “Where did you hear that?” He looked at his wife, who looked equally perplexed. “Did you—”

  Linn leaned back, insulted. “Oh don’t even think about it. I haven’t said a word,” she said, waving her hand at her husband. She shifted her attention to her daughter. “Honey, who told you that?”

  “Why? What’s the big deal?”

  “Who, Maddie?” Linn repeated.

  “Samantha’s mom,” Maddie said. “She was talking about it on the phone when I was over there after school. Is it true, dad?”

  Gaines paused, his fork and knife poised in his hands. “Maddie, we’re not discussing this. Just drop it. You shouldn’t talk about things you
don’t know anything about.”

  Maddie didn’t seem interested in letting it go. “Samantha’s mom says she made the whole thing up for attention. She even cut her own face just to make it look like it happened. Can you believe that?”

  “Then Samantha’s mother doesn’t know anything,” Gaines said sternly, praying his daughter would let it go. But he knew her too well and had little hope that she would move on until she got the answer—or reaction—she was fishing for.

  “Mad, stop,” Linn said. “Your father asked you to stop talking about this.”

  “Why? It isn’t like it’s a secret,” Maddie said, her face wrinkling with disapproval. “If Mrs. Daviosa knows about it then half the town already does. She told everyone when Jenny Graham got pregnant. So you can guess… She’s probably already called the National Inquirer. So why can’t I ask if it’s true? I have a right to know, don’t I?”

  “Rights? You’re a teenager. You don’t have rights. Not until you’re living on your own and paying your own bills,” Linn said, picking up her wine glass, folding her free arm across her chest, and tucking it under the other. It was a mother’s drinking pose.

  “Seriously? That’s so stupid!” Maddie wailed. “Wouldn’t you rather I hear the truth from Dad? I mean, he knows better than anyone what’s going on.”

  “We’re handling it,” Gaines said, steadily losing patience. “That’s what’s going on. It’s a law enforcement matter. So stop talking about it and just drink your milk. Got it? I would like to enjoy my dinner… Can I do that?… Please?”

  “Fine. Geez. You don’t need to lose your head over it. I was only curious.”

  There was a long beat of silence, and slowly the sound of utensils on plates resumed with awkward hesitation.

  Then: “All I’m saying is I go to school with Kara. She sits near me in social studies. I just want to know if I’m sitting next to a psycho or not. You know, only a loon would make up something like—”

  “Enough!” Gaines yelled, and brought his fist down on the table. Plates jumped with a clatter. “I don’t want to hear another word! You understand?”

  “Okay, sorry, you don’t have to get so upset,” Maddie said calmly, moving the food around her plate but never eating.

  Gaines’s face had tightened into an angry glower, and he was pointing a stiff finger at his daughter. He lowered his hand slowly. “You don’t know a damn thing about this. And Samantha’s mom should keep her mouth shut. She shouldn’t be spreading those kinds of stories. Kara Price is just a kid. It’s irresponsible. Martha Daviosa is the only psycho you should be worried about.” He pushed back from the table, went to the fridge, and grabbed a beer. “I lost my appetite,” he said, and stormed out of the room.

  Fading behind him, Gaines heard Linn scolding their daughter: “Why do you have to provoke your father like that? He’s been under a lot of stress lately.”

  He opened the back door and stepped out onto the deck before he heard Maddie’s response. But it didn’t matter; he knew the true answer: his daughter wasn’t what had provoked him at all. Maybe she hadn’t let up with the inquisition when he’d asked, but so what? Most times, he adored that about her. He adored her persistence. It was something that he always imagined would take her places in life. She didn’t deserve to be yelled at that way. No, what had set him off was something else.

  Since Saturday, Gaines had been trying to assure himself that Harry Bennett was innocent. For his own comfort, he had needed to believe that a man he thought he knew so well wasn’t capable of such a terrible crime. But if it had been so easy to suggest that Kara was lying about being raped, when there was nothing but conjecture to support such a thing, then how could he really say he was qualified to judge a man’s character? Because now he understood that he hardly knew himself. Never in a million years did he think his own actions could ever be so cowardly. Here he was, though, sitting on his deck, drinking a beer, cozy and safe, while Kara Price was being dragged through the mud by the likes of Martha Daviosa, and Harry Bennett was still sitting, giant fucking PR smile on his face, behind that fat desk of his, running Heartsridge. It was so wrong. He was just as bad as they were. Worse.

  It was all because of that little kernel of truth Gaines had seen shimmering in the black heart of the matter, the oily thing he’d latched onto and founded his campaign against the truth upon: there wasn’t enough evidence. Those four words—There isn’t enough evidence—had become like some sick slogan for the Kara Price case. Sure, there wasn’t enough for a solid conviction. That was true. But he couldn’t deny it had almost felt like a relief when he had discovered that. At the time, it had seemed like some kind of lucky loophole, something that served to make his job—his life—easier. But now he saw it for what it really was: a way to avoid dealing with a truth he was too afraid to confront. He supposed he had known that all along, but he could no longer hide from it. It was eating him up from the inside like a cancer.

  People protect their own.

  The thought stirred the bile in his stomach and made him want to lose what little dinner he’d put down. But he had only been thinking about his family. It wasn’t just that he was afraid for himself; he had been scared for Linn and Maddie, too. His decisions affected them just as much, if not more. He needed his job, and if he arrested Harry and nothing came of it he’d be done. What then? What about bills? The mortgage? Maddie’s college fund? And it was true, dammit! There wasn’t enough evidence. Harry would simply go free. It would be career suicide for him. A useless hop into the flames, all in the name of honor. Gaines could admit he’d been afraid and been a coward, but he couldn’t bring himself to agree he had made the wrong choice. He wanted to see justice for Kara Price. But he wanted to do so without sacrificing himself and his family.

  Samantha’s mom says she made the whole thing up for attention, his daughter’s voice repeated in his head.

  The words made him cringe. They sounded so vindictive, as though Kara were some kind of deranged villain. It took him a moment to realize why hearing that had soured him so much, and then it became clear: the words were his own. Maybe not verbatim, but he’d uttered a similar phrase more times than he cared to recall. And now he could only hope he wasn’t the cause of Martha Daviosa being armed with the same logic. How had she even heard, anyway? Only a few people knew about this. He knew it would get out sooner or later, but he didn’t expect it so soon. He hoped he wasn’t responsible for that, some way or another.

  “You okay, hon?” Linn’s voice came from behind him. “You know she’s just being a teenager. She’s curious, is all. You knew this wouldn’t be a secret for long.”

  Gaines turned. Linn was standing in the doorway. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I just have a lot on my mind. I shouldn’t’ve gone off like that.”

  “I know. But she knows she was pushing your buttons, too. She’s always liked to get a rise out of you.”

  Gaines laughed and shook his head. “Well, the kid’s got a talent for it. That’s for sure. But this wasn’t her fault. Hope she isn’t upset.”

  “Maddie? Please. She was smiling when you left the room.” Linn stepped out onto the porch. “She’s a tough one. She gets that from you.”

  Gaines took a long sip of beer then said, “I don’t know… maybe.”

  “You remembered it’s her birthday tomorrow, didn’t you?” Linn asked, changing the subject. “She wants me to take her to the DMV after work so she can get her driving permit. God, she’s growing up too quick.”

  Gaines brought a hand to his head. “Shit. No I didn’t forget that,” he said. “But I did forget to pick up her present. I had Joanna down at the diner make her a necklace. Did you know she did that? Made jewelry?”

  “No, but that sounds like a wonderful gift,” Linn said. “I’m sure she’ll love it. You trying to dethrone me or something?”

  Gaines laughed. “I hope so. It’s this neat little pendant thing. I thought she’d like it. I told Joanna this morning that I’d be down to get i
t later. I wanted to give it to Maddie tomorrow morning before school so she could wear it.”

  Linn leaned against the porch column. “So go get it. The diner’s still open.”

  “Yeah, I guess I’ll have to.” Gaines took another sip of beer and smiled. “Or maybe I can have Sam pick it up and drop it off. He drives right by on his way home.” He checked the time on his watch. “Should be done with his shift in an hour.”

  “You’re really that lazy?”

  “What good is having deputies if they can’t run a few errands for you from time to time? Besides, it’s been a long few days,” Gaines said, “and I’ve had a few of these already.” He held up the beer can. “Probably shouldn’t drive.”

  “Probably not. No.” Linn smiled.

  “Go on inside, I’ll be in soon.” Gaines leaned down and kissed Linn on her forehead. “I need a few minutes to clear my head.”

  Linn placed her hand on his chest and rubbed gently. “Okay, hon. Take your time.”

  She turned and walked back inside. When she was gone, and he was once again alone with his thoughts, Gaines’s mind wandered back to that dark place—the place where the truth waited for him. The place where he could no longer pretend he wasn’t aware of what he’d done to protect his own.

  CHAPTER 25

  His heart thumped in his throat.

  “So you know what I think?” Sam said, a love-struck smile spread wide across his face. He was leaning on one arm through the small slider-window that connected the dispatcher’s booth to the back office of the sheriff’s station, talking to Carol Matthews. The hand he kept in his pocket fondled the diamond engagement ring his mother had given him. There was no grand plan, no extravagant ploys, just a movie, some popcorn and a quick hey you wanna get married, babe, because I love you and want to spend my life with you.