Fook

by Brian Drinkwater

  “Shit!” she exclaimed as Oliver just stared up at his terrified mother, confused by what was happening, but obviously not as scared as he had been only moments ago in the sink, since he didn’t make a sound. “Okay, the phone is out which is why the alarm company hasn’t called to confirm the alarm like the man said they would,” Jennifer attempted to calm her nerves by talking herself through the situation. “If they can’t get a hold of me they’ll probably call Bill who will, of course, tell them to send the police. And if they can’t get a hold of him, they’ll send the police anyway.”

  Jennifer pulled Oliver close to her chest. What was she going to do? Was she really going to just hide in this closet while that son of a bitch from the other night came back to finish the job. A flash of the previous night’s horror overtook her thoughts as she looked down at the innocent life held firmly in her arms. It was her job to protect Oliver, no matter what that meant. Bill had fought off the attacker the other night. There was no reason to think that she couldn’t do the same, or at least slow him down and possibly divert his attention away from her son just long enough for the police to arrive and take out the bastard.

  Spotting the shallow, half empty laundry basket on the other side of the closet, Jennifer slowly crept toward it and lowered Oliver inside, covering him with a couple of shirts, careful not to cover his face or tangle anything around his neck.

  “You stay right here and be quiet,” she instructed her son as if he understood and might issue an, “I understand mother,” in return. “I love you.” Leaning over, she kissed Oliver on the forehead and stood to face the closed, closet door. To her right was Bill’s golf bag from which she withdrew an iron and slowly exited the closet.

  Standing just inside the closed, bedroom door, Jennifer scanned the bedroom windows, overjoyed to see that she’d forgotten to open the blinds that morning, which prevented anyone from looking in and possibly spotting Oliver’s hiding spot. Reaching for the doorknob, she listened but heard nothing but the sounds of the alarm and the repetitive female voice. Cautiously, she stepped to the side of the door and raising the club, ready to strike anyone who might be hiding on the other side, she slowly pulled open the door to the empty hallway.

  The pounding in her chest felt like a drummer who’d lost his rhythm as overwhelming fear caused her heart to skip a beat or two. Poking her head out of the bedroom, she scanned the hall. It was empty. Cautiously she crept out, quietly closing the bedroom door behind her and keeping as close to the wall as possible as she made her way past the linen closet and past Oliver’s bedroom, pausing as she approached the large opening that lead to the living room. The guest bedroom stood just off the living room to the left.

  “Do you think they’re inside?” a faint, unfamiliar voice competed with the alarm from within the guest room.

  “I don’t see anybody in there,” a second voice responded.

  “This is crazy,” Jennifer whispered as she took a moment to think about how ridiculous she probably looked, pressed against the wall clutching the club, but Oliver’s life depended on her. Placing her hand on the brass handle, she pressed down but stopped as a police siren cried out from down the street.

  “Thank God,” she sighed as she released the handle and retreated back to the bedroom for Oliver. As she opened the closet door, light from the bedroom poured in, illuminating the small hamper and the tiny life within it. Oliver was just laying on his back as she’d left him, the word Angel printed across his chest in big, pink letters as she noticed the pair of Victoria’s Secret shorts that she’d used to keep her son warm as well as hidden. Lifting Oliver out of the basket, keeping him wrapped in the fitting garment, she returned to the hall just in time for the doorbell to ring. Still cautious about who it might be, but confident that the intruder was likely long gone, given the police presence outside, Jennifer made her way to the front door, peeking out of the narrow, curtained window beside the door and spotting her savior dressed in blue.

  Unlocking the door, Jennifer yanked it open, greeting the officer with a “Thank God you’re here!”

  “Ma’am, are you alright?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine but somebody tried to break into the house! I think they broke the window in the guest room! It’s over there!” she began rambling.

  “Ma’am,” the officer attempted to interject.

  “I was so scared! Last night someone attacked my son!”

  “Ma’am.”

  “My husband fought him off but I think he came back!”

  “Ma’am!” the officer finally stopped the hysterical woman with a raised voice.

  Jennifer just stared, shocked and a bit perturbed by the officer’s rudeness as she waited for him to speak.

  The officer just glanced in the direction of the keypad, mounted on the wall beside her.

  “Oh,” Jennifer finally realized that she’d been competing with the alarm and the electronic voice, still announcing the location of the breech. Fumbling with the new keypad, she finally managed to enter the correct four digit code and with the press of the disarm button, the siren and the female voice fell silent. “As I was saying—,” she instantly went back into her rant before being cut off once again by the rude man before her.

  “—You don’t have an intruder, ma’am,” the officer explained.

  “Bullshit!” she wanted to respond but kept her mouth shut.

  “It was just a tree,” the officer continued.

  “What?”

  “A tree, ma’am. Those men were taking down a tree next door and lost control of it. It looks like it crushed your fence and some of the branches went through your window. There was no intruder.”

  “I’m so sorry!” a man shouted from the sidewalk.

  Jennifer looked around the officer to see two men standing beside the police cruiser. One man was shaking his head, seemingly unable to make eye contact with her while the apologetic man strangled his hat in his hands.

  “But what about the phone? It’s dead,” Jennifer asked confused.

  “Are the connections on that side of the house,” the officer asked.

  “They are,” she thought as she shook her head in the affirmative.

  “The tree probably took out the box or severed a wire. Just give the phone company a call and they’ll come out and fix it. You never answered if everyone was alright.”

  “Yeah, yeah. We’re fine.”

  “Is anyone else in the house?”

  “No. My husband’s at work. No one was in that room so everyone’s okay; just a little shaken up,” Jennifer nervously laughed at the situation.

  “Understandable,” the officer responded, he too showing signs of relaxation, now that he was sure that no one was injured and that this was simply an accident easily fixed with the exchange of information and a few phone calls to the insurance companies. “I’m going to need you to come outside for a minute so I can get your information and take a brief statement.

  “Can I put some clothes on my son first?” Jennifer glanced down at Oliver wrapped in her shorts.

  “Of course ma’am. Come out when you’re ready.”

  “Thank you officer.”

  Leaving the door open she retreated back toward Oliver’s room as the officer made his way to the two men waiting beside his car.

  “This is not your typical bath time,” Jennifer looked down at Oliver who stared back, offering his mother what appeared to be a slight grin.

  FIFTEEN

  “Katie. Hey girl,” Latisha waved as she shoved her way through the crowded hall to her best friend’s locker. “Where were you this morning? I didn’t see you on the bus.”

  “Yeah, my dad thinks he should drive me from this point on,” Katie answered, looking down at the lately, unable to be concealed lump beneath her blouse.

  “You know he’s just trying to look out for you, right? He loves you.”

  “I know. He really has been great, with this whole baby thing and all,” Katie smiled as she placed her hand on her stoma
ch. She’d been terrified from the moment she’d seen the blue plus symbol. Ever since her mother had died, she’d felt lost, not sure how she would be able to move on with her life. Her mother had been everything to her. Though a small town, her father had always taken great pride in his work, which meant long hours and many nights and weekends away from the family. But she hadn’t faulted him for that. They had a great life. They lived in a great little town and in a big, comfortable house with everything they could ever want, and she understood that it was all because of her father’s hard work and dedication. In his absence though, her mother had, at times and in essence at least, acted as a single parent which had only made the bond between her and her mother that much stronger.

  She’d been devastated the night that her parents had sat her down to tell her about the cancer. She hadn’t really understood what the whole thing had meant at the time, except that it was bad and that her mother would likely not live to see her reach adulthood. She wouldn’t be there for her graduation. She wouldn’t get to witness her vows in St. John’s cathedral at the center of town and she wouldn’t get to be there for the birth of her first grandchild.

  She’d cried herself to sleep that night, as well as all those in the three weeks that followed. During all those tears though, she’d also been thinking. There had to be something she could do to help her mother get better. There had to be something she could do that the doctors couldn’t. She’d been seven at the time and the thought that she could perform some miraculous cure that the medical world hadn’t yet imagined had been childish. Her mother had survived years past the doctor’s best expectations, a feat that her mother had attributed to, “the best medicine money can’t buy,” she’d often said, ”love.” Right up to the moment that life had escaped her body, she’d spoken of their love being responsible for keeping her alive. She’d also instructed them to take care of each another and that, no matter what, she’d always be watching over them.

  “I’ll be there for your graduation,” her mother had struggled to form each word in the five minutes they’d shared together while the rest of the family waited down the hall. “I’m going to be right there beside you at the alter. You’re going to be so beautiful in that white gown. I can already see you,” she’d closed her eyes to picture the moment as a wave of discomfort caused her to wince ever so slightly. “And your daughter...,” she’d continued. “...my granddaughter. She’s the most precious thing I’ve ever seen,” she’d spoke as if she could see her tiny face on the back of her closed eyelids.

  She’d seemed so convinced that she’d have a little girl. She’d even fought through the pain of a few more words to describe the angelic child from her vision.

  “She’s going to have long blonde hair, blue eyes and the cutest dimples anyone has ever seen,” she’d described with a broad smile.

  Even as another wave of pain overtook her frail body, she’d held that smile. Her mother had died ten minutes later with her husband by her side.

  Katie had known it was coming; that didn’t make it any easier though and with her mother gone she’d sort of gone on a wild streak. She knew what her mother had told her, about the family taking care of each another. She remembered every word but for a while she hadn’t known how to go on, so she’d filled the void left by her mother’s death, with drunken parties at houses of previously unknown friends and drug induced encounters. No matter how many times she found herself lying there, some unknown boy writhing around on top of her, all she could think of was the image of that little girl that her mother had described to her. Each time she’d just closed her eyes, as her body shook with each thrust of reality, and imagined that little girl’s face. She was beautiful; just as her mother had described and she wanted nothing more than to give her mother what she’d found so much joy in imagining in her final moments.

  Looking back on it, the decision was probably stupid, though something inside of her wasn’t completely convinced. The little girl currently growing inside of her was nothing short of a miracle and, though a potential detriment to her future, she wouldn’t trade her situation for anything in the world.

  “Katie. Kaa-tieee. Hey, Earth to Katie!” Latisha shouted, startling her friend out of her trance.

  “Sorry,” Katie smiled as she grabbed her math book and closed her locker.

  “Your mother again?”

  “Yeah, but I’m alright.”

  “I’m sure you are, but if you need to talk...”

  “I know. Really, we’re alright,” she held her stomach again.

  Latisha smiled at her natal embrace.

  “Katie,” another voice suddenly cried from the flowing sea of students.

  “Oh, here comes Mark again,” Latisha spoke with a devilish grin. “The poor boy just won’t give up. Maybe you should give him a chance this time.”

  Ignoring the advancing boy, Katie looked to her friend for assistance in diverting the impending situation.

  “Would you look at the time,” Latisha announced loudly as Mark broke through the crowd, arriving by her side. “I’m going to be late for class. You can tell me all about it in science. Hey Mark,” she greeted the new arrival before disappearing into the crowd.

  “Latisha, wait,” Katie unsuccessfully called for her friend’s return. “Bitch.”

  “Hey, Katie,” Mark nervously greeted her.

  “Hey Mark,” Katie hesitantly responded. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Mark. He was a great guy. He was one of the brightest kids in the school and despite his high GPA and horrendously bad taste in clothing, he actually wasn’t all that bad on the eyes either.

  “So, I know I asked you this before…,” he began.

  Katie knew where this was going. He’d already asked her to the junior prom twice last week, both times to which her response had been “no”. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him. They shared many of the same classes together and in the last year they’d actually grown to be fairly good friends. She just didn’t feel right about going with him to such an important event. He deserved better than to waste such an important coming of age experience with some messed up, pregnant chick. He was going to go on to do amazing things with his life and he didn’t need to run the risk of falling for someone who would only hold him back.

  “...but I’ve been thinking,” Mark continued. “I know you said no and I respect that, but I don’t really think you have a say in the matter.”

  “Excuse me,” Katie, caught off guard, responded.

  “That’s right. You don’t have a choice in the matter because I know for a fact that your daughter would love to go to prom with me.”

  “Okay, this is getting a bit creepy,” she thought but chose to play along to see where he was going with this new approach. “Is that right?”

  “Yes. It is.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “She told me,” Mark spoke confidently, as if he really believed what he was saying.

  “She told you huh. How exactly do you know that it’s a she?” Katie asked, sure that she hadn’t told anyone about the sex of her unborn child yet.

  “You told me a few weeks ago in psychology, remember? Well, you didn’t actually tell me, but one of the times we were talking you’d mentioned a pink dress that you’d seen at the store and how you wondered if they made the same dress for children. I could only assume you were talking about...” he motioned toward her stomach.

  She did remember the conversation. For months she’d managed to conceal the fact of her pregnancy from the rest of her peers but since word had spread about her condition in the last month or so, most of the school just looked at her as that poor pregnant girl...but not Mark. He didn’t seem to be fazed by her condition. He was her friend before the pregnancy and after finding out about the life growing within her, other than Latisha, he was the only one who’d continued to treat her the same as always.

  “So, like I said, you don’t have a choice in the matter,” Mark reaffirmed.

  “And what e
xactly did you and…,” glancing down at her stomach, “...talk about?”

  “Oh, you know, the usual, the weather, music…the growing of appendages.”

  Katie stood silent at the odd remark.

  “Nevertheless, the most important thing is that she would like nothing more than for all of us to go to the prom together and I couldn’t agree more.”

  Overhearing the odd conversation, the girl two lockers down turned to offer a perplexed look before closing her locker and making her way to class.

  “I’ve got something,” he suddenly announced as he removed his backpack from his shoulder and dropped to a knee to open it.

  Given the oddity of the situation, Katie wouldn’t have been surprised to see him withdraw a ring from the overstuffed bag and profess his love to her right there in the hall, but instead he withdrew a neatly wrapped box with a large pink ribbon, which had been crumpled and deformed by the hardbound contents of the bag.

  With the box in hand, Mark returned to his feet, holding it before him for Katie to take. “I got this for you.”

  Not sure what to expect, she nervously took the box from his hand.

  “Go ahead. Open it.”

  Reluctantly, she pulled at the ribbon, watching it unravel and release its grip on the flat, rectangular box.

  Mark stared at the box with a smile.

  Lifting the lid, she couldn’t even begin to guess what might be inside. Beneath the lid was a layer of snow white tissue paper, neatly folded over the box’s true contents. As she lifted the corner of the tissue paper, a silky pink fabric slowly appeared. Intrigued, she lifted the tissue paper further, revealing a lacy trim along the edge of the pink material.

  Mark’s smile grew as his present was slowly revealed.