by Lucian Bane
“Looks like a classic. You can maybe beg your dumb rich Chinese daddy for one.”
She shoved him with a laugh. “I do not beg for anything from my dad! But… I would beg for you.”
“Oh, you are full of sex talk, aren’t you? What would you beg for?” he had to know now.
“Anything you made me beg for.”
“Oh, I have to make you beg for things?”
“Yes! You make me do all the things.”
“No dogs, yet,” he said, waiting for an outbreak of rabid teeth any second. “You stressed making you, I noticed.”
“You are such a good learner, Charlie Brown.”
“I pay attention to the things that interest me,” he muttered with a side grin at her.
“And you are interested in making me do all things?”
“All things sexual?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Sounds like a lot of work. Do you cooperate?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. If I don’t, you punish me.”
“God, and you want this?” He didn’t understand the logic. “Like a bad child that behaves wrong for attention? How did this dysfunction become a pleasure?”
“When they started doing it in sex,” she said, like that was obvious. “I have never done it, only read about it. But I really want to try it.”
“Like the way you want to try a new dish, or a new flavor of ice cream it sounds like.”
“Yes!”
“God, I’m sweating. From walking,” he added when he realized she’d think it was from their talk. “I’m hot about that too,” he added again, not wanting her to think he wasn’t very interested in all of it. He was. His mind was having fun working out positions and scenarios that included punishing in sexual ways. “So I get to spank your cute butt and what else?”
“You can spank anything you want,” she offered graciously.
God he was about to have a full blown hard on. “Shhh, she might be on the porch.” It was hard to tell, covered in dark screen. At the door, he knocked.
“Charlie?” the woman called.
“Yes ma’am. Ms. Ward?”
“Come on in honey,” she said. “Don’t worry about Jeffry, he’s harmless and old.”
Jeffry? He paused, glancing at Alice while slowly opening the screen door. He held her behind him as he entered, looking left then right. There he is. A rabid Cujo looking St. Bernard, lay in the corner of the porch. “Goooood Jeffry,” Charlie mumbled, grabbing Alice’s hand and pulling her on the safe side as he hurried to the opened doorway straight ahead.
“He is cute,” Alice whispered.
“Adorable,” Charlie mumbled, yanking her when she slowed down. “What is that smell? I’m starving!” Charlie called, entering a kind of hall with a lot of windows.
“That is our late lunch,” she said, finally appearing in the entryway before them. “Well look at you,” she smiled, her head falling a little to the left. She reminded him of Aunt Bee from Andy Griffith, only much taller and larger. Her smile faltered at seeing Alice.
“This is Alice,” he said, stepping aside. “She’s from Zhangye, China. I got to visit there. Most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”
She forced a half smile, eyeing her with a nod. “That’s nice.” Her smile went back to full at Charlie. “Well come on in, you all have a seat. We can eat and then have pie for dessert. I don’t usually have pie, but I haven’t had company in foreva’ seems like. Just me and Jeffry now.”
Charlie pulled out a chair for Alice at the large farm style table then sat in the one next to her. “How long have you lived here? I love it,” Charlie said, not having to stretch the truth. He liked anything rural, really.
“Oh, I’ve been here since I was born. The house belonged to my grampy and grammy. They raised me. I tell you,” she half sang, turning with a full plate of food. “The human quality seems to skip a generation, you know?” She set the plate before Charlie and turned back to the stove. “My gramps and grams was good people. Then they had their children. Devil’s spawns,” she muttered, filling a second plate with food. “Then outta that hell comes their children, good as angels.” She turned with said angelic smile and set the plate before Alice.
“Thank you,” Alice said, bowing her head a little.
“Yes, thank you, Ms. Ward, this looks so good.”
She stood there smiling at them. “Well, eat up!” she cried, turning back to the stove. “And my name is Lynette.”
“That’s a very pretty name,” Charlie said.
“Yes, very pretty,” Alice agreed.
She returned to the table with her own plate and set it down, before opening her chair. She sat herself then moved about as if her bottom had to lock in. She took her white linen napkin from the table and tucked it in her collar, smiling at Charlie. “But my friends call me Lynn.” Her smile faltered over Alice before she picked up her fork and focused on her food.
Now that she was at the table, Charlie bowed his head and prayed silently and quickly.
“Awwww aren’t you a good boy,” she cried, apparently seeing it. “My Frank was good like that. He always prayed over his food no matter how hungry he was.”
Charlie wondered how or why she’d missed her generation theory when it came to her son. And what of her daughter?
He struggled for something to fill the silence between bites of food. “I’m an only child. Alice too.”
Lynn paused with a full fork. “Well of course she is. China keeps a lid on…” She suddenly perused the food on her plate as if looking for the words. “Family affairs and such,” she finished with her innocent Aunt Bee look before opening her mouth for her forkful. She chewed with a sweet smile, but only at Charlie, her two front teeth poking over her lower lip. “I had two children,” she finally said, her tongue sweeping all over her lips as she collected more food with her fork. “But not because it was all I was allowed. Two is plenty. A boy and a girl.” She got another bite in and aimed her fork at him. “I told you I don’t need a lot of good,” she reminded around her food. “Who needs more than that?”
Charlie nodded. “Good point.” He focused on his own food, grateful he didn’t have to pretend to like it. They’d rehearsed the food thing before getting there. No matter what it tasted like, they’d sing praises. Even Alice liked it if he’d interpreted her facial language correctly.
“This is really good Ms. Lynn,” he said.
She nodded with raised brows, using her thumb to shove food onto her fork. “Frank always liked my home cooked meals.”
“I bet he did.”
They ate the rest of their food in silence until they both cleaned their plate. “Well look at that,” she noticed. “You ready for pie?”
“Yes ma’am,” they both answered at the same time.
“No, no!” she snapped when Alice stood to take their plates. “Leave ‘em. I’ll do that.” She stood and quickly took her plate to the sink then returned for Alice’s and Charlie’s. “I’ll get the dishes for pie,” she said, back to sweet.
Charlie was beginning to wonder about which of the generations was touched by God and the devil. Something wasn’t quite right with her. And as far as Charlie knew, whacky parents didn’t produce awesome kids usually.
They ate pie which came with quite a bit of mmming from both of them, while Lynn ate like nobody else sat at the table. With every bite, she stared straight ahead, seeming lost in some place or time. “So, do you have farm animals?” Charlie asked, just for something to talk about.
“No farm animals,” she said.
The sadness in her low voice made Charlie pause. She focused on her plate now, scooping and scooping with the edge of her spoon as if trying to get every molecule of food up. He glanced at Alice and found her trying not to look while the awkward in the air got to the point of suffocating.
It all hit him in that moment. Her son was a psychopath that committed suicide and there they sat in the kitchen of his mother who clearly was not well.
“My Frank was a good boy,” she suddenly mumbled, making Charlie’s stomach tense as she continued scraping the spoon on the plate. “This world didn’t understand him, but I did.” She finally ate the microscopic bite and smacked her lips, before rising and bringing dishes to the sink again. She started humming a happy tune, like the mental kink in her head suddenly came unstuck without her even realizing it had happened.
Charlie eyed Alice and angled his head toward the door, signaling it was time to go.
Lynn suddenly broke out in yelling gibberish at the sink. Charlie recognized the sound of speaking in tongues as Alice gripped Charlie’s leg under the table through the shouting.
God, help us get out of here. Wasn't she Catholic? He didn't know they believed in speaking in tongues.
The racket suddenly stopped dry as she remained facing the sink. She shut the water off and turned with a dishrag, wiping the table. “Did you all like the pie?” she asked.
“We did, Ms. Lynn,” Charlie said. “Thank you. Well, we need to get going. I just got a text that my dad is ready to pick us up.”
She suddenly paused in her wiping, looking at him. “You’re leaving already? I was gonna show you Frank’s stuff.”
Great. “Maybe we can come by tomorrow? Right Alice?” He signaled with his nod for her to agree.
“Sure,” Alice said, while the woman looked between both of them, still troubled.
“But Frank has a collection of stuff, he…he was a collector, you know. He liked puzzles of all kinds.”
He felt her pinch his leg under the table. “Maybe we have time to see just a little?” Alice suggested.
Charlie looked at her, silently pleading they not. “Maybe so,” he said.
“Good!” Lynn cried, hurrying through her table wiping as fast as she could now.
Charlie and Alice stood, watching her. “We’ll need to hurry. My dad doesn’t like when I make him wait.”
“Won’t take long,” she said, throwing the rag into the sink. “Come on,” she urged like an eager child showing off new toys.
The Man & The Can
They followed her outside to what looked like a barn. God, if she wanted to kill them, they were so screwed. “He liked to sleep out here,” she said over her shoulder. “Nobody was allowed. But he wouldn’t mind if I showed my friends. That’s what you are to me, Charlie.”
“Thank you, Ms. Lynn.” He shot Alice wide eyes, trying to tell her this was a bad idea.
“He was like a kid, always working his puzzles.” She paused at the barn door, moving a flowerpot and getting a key. She slid it into the padlock. “I keep it safe for him. He would’ve wanted that. He liked his privacy, you know,” she informed with serious nods. “I didn’t let anybody come in his space. His zone where he worked, as he liked to call it. He was a really good kid,” she said for the umpteenth time. “Loved art and math, that was his favorite. And animals. That boy looooooved animals.”
Mutilated pets flashed through Charlie’s head with the loud creak of the door. “I need to get in here and tidy up. He has a room in the house too, but this is where he did his real work.”
Charlie gripped Alice’s hand, not caring what the woman thought now. If they needed to run, he wanted to be sure they were doing that together. If she was working with her son, maybe she had somebody there waiting. The bad idea vibe grew with every step they took. He’d never been more aware of the gun at the bottom of his bag. But how long would it take him to dig it out should he need it? Too long.
He stopped inside the door, squeezing Alice’s hand and not letting her go further in. Blue hued light flickered, washing the cluttered garage sized room in the eerie color. “Wait till you see this,” she bragged.
A deep creaking came with the parting of the ceiling above them. Sunlight gradually filtered through the room until it was lit like the outside. But what it illuminated had Charlie’s breath lodged in his chest. “This whole room is like his scratch paper, that’s what he called it. Where he worked out the details. Details of the universe, I imagine.”
“Charlie,” Alice whispered.
“I see,” he barely said, roving his gaze over the walls covered in the letters and numbers they’d deciphered. They were everywhere in different shapes, colors and sizes.
“I didn’t like them taking pictures of all this, it was…it was so personal to him. They made me,” she said, like it had damaged her soul.
“Who did?”
“The investigators.” The words were hard. “It was a suicide,” she assured, like she was tired of saying it. “They wanted to blame somebody, make a case, but I know better.”
The idea that it might’ve been something else had Charlie forgetting methods. “Why did they think it wasn’t suicide?”
“Because of the note he’d left. Said it was too cryptic.”
Charlie’s pulse sped up. “What kind of note was it?” he decided to just ask.
She moved from item to item along the tables lining the walls. He tried to see what all of it was without going in any deeper. “Was a love note is what it was.”
A love note. This wasn’t adding up. If the police were in on it, why would they want it ruled as a murder if it was a suicide? Charlie realized now. It was ruled as a murder because that’s what it was. She was just in denial over it. Now he wanted to know what she knew of his death. If she had been told he was killed by a car, believing it was suicide would require grand delusion. Which was becoming highly likely with her.
“What’s that?” Charlie pointed at the giant something with the tarp covering it at the end of the room.
She turned and eyed it. “I don’t know. I never wanted to see it. Made them cover it back after they took their dumb pictures.”
He looked at Alice, catching her studying all around. “Why didn’t you want to see it?” Charlie asked.
She stared at it with her angled head shaking still. “Because it’s covered. Frank covered things he didn’t want me seeing. I always respected him with that kind of thing.”
Something told Charlie that he needed to see what was under that cover. “Was he an artist?” Maybe it was a canvas. It seemed like it could be.
“Oh yes, he was. But not like most artists. He liked…to experience his art with all his mind and soul. And the numbers.” She turned a smile to them. “He wasn’t that much of a people person, though.” She nodded, still smiling. “Never had friends over, never had a girlfriend.” Her eyes glazed over a little as if studying the past. “I was hoping he’d settle down.” She focused on Charlie again. “Just wasn’t in the plans for him.”
“I studied graphology if you’d like me to look at his note,” Charlie dared.
“Graphology?” she wondered.
“It’s a science that helps us know things about what a person wrote, what they were trying to say.” He hoped God would forgive him. He’d never stretched the truth so much in his life.
The curious look on her face had him tense. “You think you could see what he meant?” she asked, like she’d never imagined but liked the idea.
“I can try. And I can pray to understand.” Finally, the truth.
Her sad gaze meandered down like a trickling sadness, before fighting its way back up to him. “Would you?” she asked. It was the first glimpse of raw pain and agony he’d seen in her.
“I’d be happy to, Lynn.”
“I’ll…I’ll go get it.” She hurried past him patting his arm as she went. “Wait here.”
The second she was out, they both let out gasps. Charlie snatched Alice’s arm as she made for the inside of the room. “What are you doing!”
“To see what’s under that canvas?!” Like he should know that.
“Wait till she offers.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“I think she will. I don’t like prying like this.”
“Charlie!” she hissed. “We need to know as much as we can! Your dad has his head! We need to figure out what all is in it, preferably not the har
d way!”
“Hurry!” he told her, moving to the door. “I’ll watch.” She lifted the canvas and he realized she was taking pictures of it. He needed to kiss her for being so damn smart. He glanced at the door to the house while Alice took pictures of everything else now. What a genius.
“She’s coming,” he hissed.
Alice ran back to him and put her phone in her pocket as Lynn hobbled her way over. “I got it,” she said, flushed from hurrying. “Here. Be careful with it, it’s…special to me.”
“Okay, Lynn. It might take me a bit to study it, do you think I can take a picture of it so I can give it the right dedication it needs?”
“Oh,” she said, appearing flustered with furrowed brows. “I don’t have a camera.”
“I have my phone camera I can use,” he said, trying to keep his tone even as he pulled it out.
“Right,” she whispered, her trembling hands opening the envelope. “That’s good because I don’t want to really part with it for no amount of time. I trust you Charlie, but…this is very special to me.”
“I understand. A picture works just as good.”
“When will you know?” she asked. “Here, hold this.”
He took the envelope as she carefully unfolded the letter. “Let me get my camera up,” he said, swiping for it. “Now just hold it up in front of you.”
She put the creased paper before her and he aimed the camera, smiling at the way she seemed to pose for the pic. “Got it,” he said. “You looked lovely by the way.”
“Ohhhh!” she guffawed, folding the paper then taking the envelope from Charlie’s outstretched hand. “You’re such a good boy, just like my Frank,” she said, making his stomach tighten every time she said that. “He used to say stuff like that,” she went on in a coo while stuffing the envelope inside the blouse of her dress. “So you’ll… come by tomorrow and let me know what you find, right?”
“Yes,” he said. “And if I can’t, I’ll be sure and call to let you know when I will come. I have to make sure my dad doesn’t need me for work.”
She lightly patted her hair with a hand, appearing restless and unsure suddenly.
