“Daddy,” Abby’s laugh turned to concern as she approached her father.
Grabbing his daughter as soon as she was in arm’s reach, Dustin pulled her close, tickling her sides as screams of joy poured from the little girl.
“Daddy, stop!” Abby struggled, pleading through her laughter to be set free until her father did just that.
After a moment of shared laughs, they both regained their composure and locked eyes.
“I love you Daddy.”
That statement never got old. From the moment he’d witnessed her birth, his little girl had become the most important thing in his life. A relationship with her mother may not be possible but he knew that he would love and cherish his daughter forever. “I love you too sweetie,” he reached for his daughter again, this time taking her in his arms for a hug.
The bell above the door, suddenly sprang to life.
“Daddy has to work now, so go back in the back room and watch the rest of your movie,” he released his embrace as he watch his daughter comply and retreat back into the storeroom where he’d set up an Elmo tape on the television and VCR used to give new employees a brief training video.
“Cute little girl,” Derek greeted the clerk as he returned to his feet, taking his place behind the register.
Dustin eyed the two men before him. Unfortunately, the store he worked in was in a somewhat rural and remote area with some...less than upstanding clientele. The man commenting on his daughter was dressed in a t-shirt that read Fall Out Boy (whatever the hell that was) and a pair of khaki shorts and for some reason he reeked of trouble. His Asian friend, however, put Dustin’s mind at ease with his neatly pressed Polo shirt, Dockers slacks and nerdy glasses.
“What can I do for you boys?” he addressed the two men in a stern, elder tone, even though they both appeared not much younger than he.
“Do you have a phone that we can use to call a taxi?” the ‘Fall Out Boy’ asked with a smile.
“Pay-phone’s outside,” Dustin bluntly replied.
“I saw that, but we don’t have any change. Can you break a twenty?”
“Register only opens for paying customers,” Dustin continued his stern demeanor.
“But we don’t need alcohol. We’re just looking for a ride.”
“I can’t open this register without a sale.”
“Like I just said though, we aren’t interested in buying anything. I just need a dime for the phone,” Derek’s voice took on a tone of annoyed frustration at the clerk’s unpleasant personality.
“No booze, no phone,” the clerk matched Derek’s tone.
“Listen,” Jason jumped in, realizing Derek’s growing frustration and wishing to avoid a shouting match that could likely turn into being questioned by the local authorities. “We’ve been walking for quite a while now and we just need to call a cab to come pick us up. I’m sure that you can help us out,” he spoke in as friendly a tone as he could manage.
“No booze, no phone,” the clerk repeated.
“I’m sure there’s a button on that keyboard that will open this thing,” Derek, fed up with the man’s unjustified attitude, leaned across the counter to get a better look at the register.
“Get the hell back!” the clerk raised his voice as he reached beneath the counter.
Seeing the man’s hand disappear beneath the counter for what he could only assume to be a gun, Jason pulled Derek away from the register.
“Get off me,” Derek protested. “This guys a lying prick,” he argued as Jason pulled him into a nearby aisle.
“Daddy?” Abby appeared in the storeroom’s doorway.
“Go watch your show sweetie,” Dustin instructed his daughter while keeping his hand firmly around the .38 below the counter.
Abby did as her father instructed just as the bell greeted another group of customers.
“I told you girls before, unless you miraculously aged three years in the last few months, you ain’t buying shit,” Dustin greeted the familiar group of teen girls.
“Let’s go,” the attractive brunette turned to the other girls as they headed back out the door. “That asshole’s working again.”
The bell rang again as the girls exited.
“You’re just friends with everyone aren’t you?” Derek re-greeted the unpleasant man behind the counter.
“I told you guys, no booze, no pho—”
Placing a bottle of Vodka on the counter, Derek stopped the clerk mid-sentence.
Dustin just eyed the two men before him.
“If you can manage to pry your fingers from that shotgun or revolver or whatever you have below the counter…,” Derek smugly addressed the man, “...we can finalize this transaction and forget that we ever met."
Releasing the revolver, “Twenty-one, fifty,” Dustin replied after a pause.
“Oh, look,” Derek taunted as he pulled a twenty from his wallet. “And here’s a couple of his friends,” he continued obnoxiously as two dollar bills followed.
Reluctantly the clerk’s hand reappeared from beneath the counter, retrieving the money from the counter and with the push of a few buttons he added the cash to the open drawer and tossed two quarters onto the counter, ignoring Derek’s outstretched palm.
“You keep it,” Derek glanced down at the spinning coins. “Maybe you could buy some manners.”
With the transaction complete, Jason quickly swiped the coins and grabbing Derek’s arm, ushered him toward the door as the bell thanked them for their business.
“Can you believe that asshole?” Derek complained as they stepped back into the warm, May sun that had kept watch over them as they’d unsuccessfully searched for a compassionate motorist.
“So now what?” Jason questioned, making his way along the sidewalk toward the pay phone. “This thing says it takes a dime. Do quarters work? I’ve never used one.”
No response.
“Derek?” Turning, Jason realized that Derek hadn’t heard a word he’d said. He hadn’t even been following him. Instead, he was standing at the driver’s side window of a tan Volvo station wagon, laughing and chatting it up with an apparent new friend. “Typical.”
Making his way toward the car, Jason noticed that the passengers inside the unattractive, square vehicle were the three girls and one of them was now holding the bottle of Vodka that Derek had just purchased from the uncouth clerk.
“Jason, come on,” Derek waved him over. “Melissa and her friends here have agreed to give us a ride into town.
“Already on a first name basis with the hot one…typical,” Jason thought to himself. Another ten minutes and he’d probably know which ones were on the pill and which ones left their backdoors unlocked, whatever that mean— Finally getting the reference, he paused, shaking his head at his deviant friend and his own cluelessness.
“Come on, hurry up!” Derek shouted again as he lowered himself into the passenger seat, somehow convincing its current occupant to move to the back.
Watching the sandy haired girl open the rear passenger side door and climb into the back with her friend, Jason suddenly began to sweat as he realized the uncomfortable situation that he was about to encounter. It wasn’t that he had any fear of the girls. None of them seemed like crazed serial killers. He did, however, fear the conversation or uncomfortable lack of one that would likely take place in that car. He knew exactly how the next fifteen minutes of his life would go and with every awkward second he imagined, a new bead of sweat began to form.
“You okay?” ‘Sandy’ asked as Jason squeezed in beside her, fumbling with the door before successfully pulling it shut.
“Good,” was all he could manage, realizing that he’d forgotten the “I’m”.
“Jason, this is Melissa,” Derek motioned to the driver.
“Hi,” Melissa smiled as she offered a small wave before returning to the task at hand by putting the car in reverse.
“And that’s Michelle and...I’m sorry,” Derek continued the introductions, pausing on th
e sandy haired one beside Jason.
“Sandy,” the pretty girl introduced herself with a bashful smile and southern drawl.
“Really?” Jason thought, trying not to laugh at the coincidence.
“I love your accent,” Derek continued to lay on the charm. “Let me guess, South Carolina?”
“Georgia,” the girl corrected.
“I was going to say Georgia. Hey, Jason, aren’t you from Georgia?”
“No. You know where—“
“—Oh, that’s right. Florida, only a mile from the Georgia state line. I always screw that one up,” Derek continued.
Jason just stared in awe of the master at work.
“Oh really?” Sandy’s shyness melted away as she turned to Jason. “My family lives only a few miles north of the border. That’s so funny. What town?”
Jason froze, both mesmerized and terrified by the set of baby blues peering up at him.
“Gator...ah...Disney...I mean,” Jason stumbled.
“Gatora-disna-hachie,” Derek interjected. “It’s a very small town in what used to be Indian territory. Most people don’t even know it’s there.”
“Oh, yeah, I think I’ve heard of it,” Sandy responded, wrinkling her nose as either a sign of confusion or in response to the smoke bellowing up beside her as Jason went down in flames.
“So, where to?” Melissa questioned as she paused at a stop sign.
“You girls ever been to M.I.T.?” Derek asked.
“What’s Mit?” Michelle spoke for the first time since being introduced.
Glancing over at the cute redhead, Jason now knew who would be Derek’s primary target. It was no secret that he preferred blondes, but he was also lazy, so stupid was usually an easier option. On occasion the two went hand in hand, but not as frequently as the stereotype would have one believe.
“You have an amazing smile,” Derek focused his attention on Michelle, even though she wasn’t currently smiling.
“See?” Jason spoke softly, confirming his prediction to himself.
“See what?” Sandy asked, still confused.
This time he didn’t respond, afraid that if he spoke he’d just utter another stupid Florida landmark.
“We’re college students, in Boston,” Derek continued to address the girls as a whole. “M.I.T. is where we go.”
“Don’t you have to be pretty smart to get into there,” Melissa asked as she drove.
“Well, yeah I guess so. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m no genius but my friend here is.”
“Well at least that wasn’t a complete lie this time,” Jason thought. He had tested well into the genius range in high school, but that wasn’t typically something that played well with the ladies, at least not the ones their age.
“Really?” Sandy’s interest peeked, her stare intensifying and inducing more perspiration from her back seat neighbor. “I think I took one of those I.Q. thingies last year in my sophomore year. At least that’s what everyone said it was. They didn't come right out and tell us. I just remember it being really hard.”
“Oh, yeah? What college do you go to?” Derek continued to carry the conversation, well aware that his terrified friend couldn’t.
“Oh we don’t go to college. We’re still in high school; Silver Lake. You know it?”
“Yeah, I think a couple of guys in our dorm went to school there,” Derek continued the lies.
Jason could see the excitement in Derek’s eyes at the news that they were surrounded by high school chicks. This news only made Jason more uncomfortable. Not only would he have to explain to the police who he was and why his license said that he had just been born, but he was probably also going to have to help Derek fight off three angry fathers and possible statutory rape charges as well, if this conversation ended where he figured it would.
“Don and Paul. I think they went to Silver Lake,” Derek continued. “Isn’t that right, Jason?”
He didn’t answer, his mind incapacitated by thoughts of the under aged teens around him and the risks that went along with Derek hooking up with even one, let alone all three of them. They weren’t supposed to be there. They weren’t supposed to exist in this time and every interaction that they had with a person from this time was a previously nonexistent ripple in the space time continuum. God forbid Derek slip one by the goalie with someone from the past. He’d be a father before he was even born. That had to be somehow devastating to the future. They had to be careful. Moreover, he had to keep Derek under control.
“Earth to Jason,” Derek waved his hand in front of Jason’s face.
“Herpes,” Jason muttered, his thoughts of how to stop Derek slipping past his lips.
“Ew,” Michelle responded from the other side of the car.
“What?” Derek looked at Jason in shock.
Already committed, Jason continued his unvetted plan. “We forgot your medicine back at your girlfriend’s house.
Derek was horrified. Each of the girl’s faces went blank as they all turned their attention to the nearest window, avoiding eye contact with their new passengers. Derek just stared at Jason with a look of confused anger before facing forward in his seat, convinced that the conversation was over.
FOURTEEN
“Is it bath time? Yes it is. It’s bath time!” Jennifer leaned over little Oliver as she unbuttoned his onesie.
Oliver just stared up at his mother. She was sure that he had no clue what was coming, since this was to be his first bath since leaving the hospital. His excited smile hadn’t come from seeing the little blue chair in the kitchen nor had it come from the few drops of water that his mother had splashed on his legs. His focus was on the long strands of his mother’s hair, that swayed back and forth above him.
Reaching for the source of his fascination, Oliver’s fingertips brushed through the end of his mother’s long hair, sending his legs into a frenzy of excitement.
“Whoa there, Pelé!” Jennifer laughed as she battled to keep Oliver under control as she slid the onesie over his head and released the tabs of his diaper.
For a newborn, Oliver was a complete contradiction to everything she'd read prior to the adoption. According to the books, at this age, he shouldn't be able to do much more than cry and poop, but already Oliver seemed to have developed amazing dexterity and control in not only his limbs but his neck as well, making him an unexpected handful at times. While this development had struck her and Bill as odd, it hadn't raised any real concerns. The doctors had declared him perfectly healthy and that was all that mattered.
Oliver let out a squeak as both legs began kicking in unison the moment the cool air breached his diaper.
“Seriously Oliver, you’re going to kick yourself right off this table,” Jennifer took on a more serious, yet still light hearted tone as she removed the thankfully, gift free diaper and lifted the excited infant into her arms.
Being picked up only excited Oliver even more as he was now closer to his new, favorite toy. Getting a handful, he pulled on the long blonde strands of excitement.
“Ow, hey,” Jennifer laughed as she freed herself from her son’s surprisingly strong grip and much to his displeasure, swung her hair over her other shoulder. “It’s not time to pull mommy’s hair because what time is it?” she went back into her high pitch baby talk. “It’s bath time! Yay!”
Oliver just stared at his mother, perplexed by the sudden changes in her voice as they entered the kitchen and approached the sink.
Testing the water, which had been hot when they’d left the room but had since cooled to the perfect temperature, Jennifer shifted Oliver in her arms and began lowering him into the sink. As his butt made contact with the mysterious liquid, Oliver’s look of playful excitement switched to that of complete and utter shock. If the look of surprise wasn’t enough to indicate his displeasure with this new experience, the tears that followed were. With no interest in the wet chair, Oliver let out a howling cry.
“Oliver, sweetie,” the baby talk ceased,
replaced by a tone of comfort. “It’s just bath time. Everyone takes baths. There’s nothing to be afraid of."
Oliver didn’t care as his cries continued.
Worried that the water may have been too hot after all, Jennifer lowered her hand into the shallow tub. The temperature seemed right; just slightly warmer than room temperature. To be sure though, she reached for the cold faucet, giving it a slight twist and allowing a few seconds of cold water to mix with the warm.
Oliver paused at the sound of the running water, but losing interest quickly, he turned his attention back to the fact that he was naked, wet and scared and continued his rant.
“It’s okay,” Jennifer continued as she proceeded to wash her son, convinced that the water was fine and that Oliver’s negative reaction was nothing more than confused fear over the unfamiliar situation. “Next time will be better,” she told herself as she poured water over his chest, rinsing away the soap that she’d just applied. “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” she continued to comfort her son, though probably more in an effort to make herself feel better since she would’ve felt horrible just standing there in silence while her son cried for her help. “Shh, nothing bad is going to happen.”
Instantly, she wished that she’d chosen a different set of comforting words as a loud crash and sounds of shattered glass boomed from the front guest room, followed by the ear piercing siren of the new alarm system and a monotone female voice repeating the phrase, “Intruder alert. Guest room. Intruder alert. Guest room”.
Jennifer screamed, hoisting Oliver out of the water and into her protective arms. Either satisfied that he was no longer lying in that horribly, wet place, or simply startled silent by his mother’s scream, Oliver ceased all noise as he and his mother hurried out of the kitchen, down the hall and into the master bedroom at the back of the house, but not before grabbing the phone from the receiver hanging just inside the arched kitchen entry.
Closing the door behind them, Jennifer stood at the foot of her bed, not sure where to go from there. Catching a glimpse of the partially open, closet door to her right, she and Oliver slipped inside, crouching beneath the neatly hung clothes in hopes of concealing themselves within the dark shadows. Holding the phone receiver in front of her face, she pushed a random button as the keypad sprang to life. Quickly she dialed 911 but as she held the phone to her ear, there was nothing on the other end. No dispatcher, no dial tone...nothing. Hitting the end button, she dialed again and again got the same lack of response.
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