Yeah. Where you going, a hotel in F’ville?
don’t know. better go to bed
OHHH. I miss u. Can’t wait to see u again.
U still going be my GF?
“Goddamn bastard. Screw him.” Joe’s stomach turned inside out. He took a breath then typed his message:
don’t know. maybe
The response came.
Don’t tease like that
“Enough of this.”
got to go by
Love you lots and lots
“Oh my God, flippin’ pervert.” Joe felt nauseous as he hit send on his last text:
love ya to, talk soooon, can’t wait.
Joe changed Amber’s password and shut the computer off. “She’s done with Facebook. She’ll go ballistic. Oh well. What hotel? Yeah. Lure him in. I should call the police. No. This is my fight.” Joe went to bed. Schemes raced through his brain, plans for every possible scenario being mapped out. His guilt would be appeased.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
A day later Joe stood by Chuck’s bed; his shallow and labored breaths were so feeble, like someone giving up. Joe took his brother’s hand, leaned forward and whispered. “I’m going to get him. Whatever it takes, I’ll take care of him. Can you hear me? You won’t believe this. He’s been talking to Amber on Facebook, pretending to be some school friend, one who moved away last year. I’m gonna find him. He wants to play games. I’ll play his game. Do you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you do.” Chuck’s hand remained cold and lifeless. Joe squeezed his brother’s hand gently. Suddenly Chuck’s body jerked slightly and the steady beeps of the monitors stopped. Then a steady heart-piercing high-pitched hum echoed in the small sterile cubical. “Something’s wrong. Something’s happened! Someone! He needs help!” Joe screamed.
Three nurses appeared. One grabble Joe’s arm, pulling him hard, she said. “I’m sorry you need to leave.”
“No. Leave me alone.”
“You need to let us help him.” She pulled harder and pushed him from behind. “Call you parents. We’ll find you when things settle down here.”
“Code Blue. CCU. Code Blue. CCU.” The overhead announcement was calm and indifferent, and unnoticed by Joe as he stumbled his way into the busy corridor. Even the human beings walking past him seemed mere apparitions fading into darkness. He never remembered phoning his mom, then dad, and was surprised when they soon arrived with Amber. In a merciful numbness, he sat with his family in the waiting room. It was nearly an hour before a doctor ushered them into what he called, “a more private setting.” The place where loved ones hear the pronouncement that would change all their tomorrows, the hated and cruel words, “I’m so sorry, we did all we could.” Words declaring death is real and affirming that life is both sacred and fragile and never to be taken for granted.
“I am sorry. We did all we could. His injuries were too …” A numbness enveloped Joe as the doctor’s words flowed out smoothly, even kindly. These were words he would not accept, believe, would not hear. Even the sobs of his mother and sister where muffled, nearly non-existent. Surreal; a moment that cannot exist when you are seventeen. When life is supposed to be easy, when youth never dies, never fades – is always strong, invincible, alive.
***
Joe’s grandparents were at their house when they returned home. Their hugs and tears offered no comfort. They just seemed an intrusion to Joe. After sitting shrouded in unbearable silence for an hour around the kitchen table, Joe stood up and announced, “Mom. I’m going out for a bit. I need to find Steven. I need to … he needs to know.”
Sarah reached for his hand and entwined her fingers with his. “No. You’re going to stay here with us. We need to be a family now.”
Joe rubbed his mom’s shoulder. “I know we do. I won’t be long, promise. Steven needs to know. Needs to be here.”
“I … No. You stay here. I don’t …”
The quiver in his mom’s voice stirred his ever-lingering guilt he had determined he would appease. Before he could respond, Amber’s voice rang out as she walked into the kitchen. “Mom! Something’s wrong with my Facebook. It won’t take my password! I need to get on. This is …”
“Amber! Not now. Forget about that right now. Not a word more about it.” Mom’s anger, fueled by a million emotions just below the surface, hit Amber hard; his sister burst into tears.
Joe put his hands on Amber’s shoulder and said, “It’s okay Amber. You don’t need to be on the computer now. Go sit with grandma. Don’t worry about it.” Amber moaned and muttered something under her breath then left the kitchen. Joe went and embraced his mother. Her hands shook, her lips trembled, and tears fell freely.
Robert came into the kitchen. “What’s wrong? Sorry. Dumb question. We can all cry as much as we need to.”
“Tell Joe to stay here. He wants to leave. I don’t trust him. I’m sorry Joe. I’m worried you might … Just stay here for us.”
“I won’t do anything mom. I won’t ever do that again, you know that. Dad, I really need to find Steven. I won’t be gone long.”
“Back before dark?” Robert said.
“Yeah. Before dark. No problem.”
***
“Steven!” Joe shouted as he reached the clearing. “We need you to come home.”
“Geez. crap. You scared me, man.” Steven pointed at Joe and nodded his head. “You need me. I … I know you need me.” Steven finished rolling up his sleeping bag and turned around. He looked at Joe, then hung his head down. A tear slid down his right cheek. “It’s Chuck, isn’t it?”
Steven got up. He cupped Joe’s head in his hands, pulled his forehead down and pressed it against his. “No. This can’t happen. It isn’t right. Bad things shouldn’t never happen. But … but they do. And we still have to live on Joe. We still have to live on. Let’s go home. You need to be home.”
Joe felt his knees wobble. “Not yet. I’m not ready. I’ll … Hell, I’ll never be ready.” He sat on the fallen tree and his hand started shaking. Suddenly a damn burst and tears streamed uncontrollably down Joe’s face. Steven sat down and wrapped his arms around him; Joe buried his head on Steven’s shoulder. His tears seemed to take on a life of their own – he could only let them come until his chest was near collapse and his eyes burned and refused to open. When his sobs finally retreated, he pulled back from Steven and muttered, “Geez. Sorry.”
“God. Don’t be stupid. Noth’n to be sorry about.” Steven wiped his own tears away with the sleeve of his coat.
Joe looked away and said. “It’s my fault you know. This is all my fault.”
“Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit. Don’t talk crazy, man. It’s some crazy guy’s fault. There’s way too many crazy people. It’s a scary crazy world. I’d stay here, in this place forever if I could. Hey, maybe we should just go back to St. Jimmy’s, the psyche unit. We’ll live there. It’s safe there.”
“It’s not over. And it’s my fault.”
“I know you’re in danger. Something more is going to happen and I know I’m going to help you.”
“Those Little People talking to you again. Geeze.”
“Shhhh. I told you, they don’t like people talking about them. Especially white people. You mustn’t talk about them, not here or anywhere.”
“It’s good to know you’re still crazy. But you’re in danger too.” Joe told him everything; the threats, the promise, the madman’s determination for revenge, for some sort of crazed and perverted justice. His phone vibrated just as he finished.
“We’ll get him, Joe. We’ll get him.”
“Yeah. But I will. No we to it. I don’t know when. But I will deal with him.” Joe glanced at his phone. “It’s mom.” He sent a text back:
am fine don’t worry hm soon. with steve now.
He stood up. “Let’s go it’s getting dark.”
Another intrusive vibration. Text from Mom:
Ur sister’s thinks you chang
ed her FBook
pw.
Joe texted back:
I did. don’t let her get on. she’s been talking
to Todd and didn’t know. don’t tell
her that, not now.
Judith’s next text read:
WHAT!
true, pretended to be some kid named jimmy.
Joe shook his phone at Steven. “I’m gonna turn this off. Shouldn’t have told her that on a text.” Vibration. “Shoot, this can go on forever.” Joe looked at his phone, ‘Private Facebook message.’ He opened his sister’s account.
Hey poo bear. How’s ur bro today.
Joe’s stomach turned over. His head pounded, his chest felt like it was twisting out of place.
“You okay Joe? Geez. What’d she say?”
“It’s him. Todd. Screw him.” Joe responded with a text:
screw you todd. he’s dead. go to hell.
A text came back.
Well Joe. Thought it was you last night,
trying to pass yourself off as your sister.
Naughty you. Pity about Chuck. Sorry it came to
that, I was kind of hoping he would pull
through. Well I am nearly at Colorado Springs
Hard lessons teach you much Joe. Hope you
learn from this. Poor Maddie. She’s such a cute
kid. I am sorry to be a man of my word but I
must finish what I promised.
Joe’s fingers shook as he composed his response.
leave her alone. ill kill you.
Todd’s reply came quickly:
So so scared.
Steven tried to grab the phone. “What’s he saying?”
Joe spun around. He shouted, “Not now. Hold on.” He sent his reply.
You’re bluffing.
Vibration.
Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’m outside your
house right now.
Joe responded.
Wish you were. You’re not that stupid.
He waited for a reply. Vibration. “Crap. Goddamn him.” Joe legs wobbled, he sat on log and looked up at Steven and said, “Bastard says he’s in Colorado. Going after Maddie.”
“We got to go. Go save her.” Steven said. “Let’s go. We have to go now.”
Joe fumbled as he composed a text.
your bluffing. bastrd.
The reply was immediate.
Maybe am bluffing, maybe not. I’ll say this much. I never planned to
see you again. But I will die knowing you learned your lesson.
You’re sick.
Just determined Joe, just determined. Got to go. Getting close to Denver now.
“Steven. You’re right. We have to go to Colorado. We have to go now.”
“Yip. Let’s go.”
With Steven’s motorcycle strapped down in the back of Joe’s truck, they headed toward I-540. “Text mom. Tell her I’m going to camp out with you tonight. No. Ask her. If I can.”
Steven sent the text and waited. “She said, ‘No, get your butt home.’ What should I say?”
“Tell her I really want to and I’ll be okay.
“She said, ‘Just come home now,’ with lots of those exclamation thingies.”
“Heck. Tell her I’m sorry and I just can’t come home yet. Tell her I’ll talk later and I’ll tell her what’s going on and … text her… that I’m sorry. Then turn the phone off, and take the battery out. I don’t want them tracking us.” Joe turned on US-412 and set the cruise control on 85. He kept taking deep slow breaths, filling his lungs again and again, demanding his body and brain relax. For Chuck. Got to do this for Chuck … and got to save Maddie. Got to.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
A hard jab to Joe’s shoulder made his whole body jerk. “What the hell?”
Steven giggled and said, “Gotta make sure you’re awake. Now, how we gonna save her? Hey, we’ll be like those shining knights in armor, swooping in and saving her. And you’ll kiss her and we’ll drive home into the sunset and live … what do they say? Happy freakin’ forever after. Yip, happy forever. But what’a we gonna do to save her? What’s the plan? Do you even know where we’re going? But … hell, what if we’re too late, Joe? No, can’t be too late. It’s my destiny, it’s my gift, to save her. Geez. I need to pee. Don’t we need gas? And I’m hungry as a rabid bull. We need to stop. Then let me drive for a while. God! Another four hundred miles! I gotta pee.”
“Do you ever shut up? We’re over half way there. Should get us there around six. Turn the phone back on and Google ‘Rising Sun Ranch,’ in Colorado. We need the address for the navigator app. And no, I don’t have a plan. I’m trying … I’m trying to think like he would be thinking, what he would be planning.
“Yeah and what’s that?”
“Dunno.”
“Lot of good you are white boy. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll use the baseball bats you got in here. Yeah. Next best things to a knight’s sword. We’ll crack his head open.” Steven slammed his fist on the dashboard. “Like that. Just like that. Hey. I need to pee.”
Ten minutes later, Joe pulled into a gas station just outside of Wichita. Joe gave Steven his credit card; the one to be used for emergencies only or risk losing the truck forever. “Tell them we want to fill it up and get some junk to eat.” Steven took the piece of plastic with great care and rather wide eyed, as if he had never seen a credit card before. Joe looked at the messages on his phone; thirty-six texts and twenty missed calls. No message alerts from Facebook. He took a deep breath. Can’t do this to them. This is crazy. Shouldn’t be doing this. But .... there’s no choice. No choice. He phoned his dad’s cell.
“Joe? Where the hell are you? What in God’s name are you up to?”
“It’s just something I have to do. And I can’t explain. Not right now.”
“Where are you?”
“Nowhere. I’m with Steven. We’ll be home sometime tomorrow. I just have to do something. I’m sorry but I have to do this. Tell mom I’m … we’re fine.” Joe choked on a rush of emotions heaving in his gut. His voice trembled and his words barely came out. “God, I’m sorry. Sorry about everything. It’s all my fault. Can you ever forgive …” No more words would come.
“Don’t say that. Okay. Listen. I don’t know what you’re up to. But I’ll trust you in this. Your mother’s taken some pills to try to cope. She’ll be out till morning. But Joe, you’d better be back home by then. Your mom can’t handle much more. Joe, should I call the police? You need to tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t know. No. No dad. There’s no point. I’ll call later. And dad, thanks … thanks for being there.”
“I love you.”
“I … I love ya too. I do.”
***
Joe’s head hit the passenger side window and his heart skipped a beat as the truck swerved to the left. He grabbed the wheel and jerked it down. “Damn it! What’da doing? Flippin’ hell, you fell asleep, goddamn it.”
“Well yeah. It’s like three AM. Why shouldn’t I?”
Joe punched Steven’s arm. “Uh? Cause you’re driving.” Joe took in a deep breath trying to steady the shot of adrenaline charging his heart. “Pull over. Let me drive. You’re gonna get us killed.”
“Oh yeah. I’m okay now. Wide-awake. Had a nice little nap.”
“Pull over now.”
“Na. Another fifty miles. I’m good. Just talk. Keep me awake. I know. Ask me some questions. What do you want to know? Anything. Then I get to ask you questions.”
“Geez. No thanks. Not a game I want to play.” Joe put his head back and closed his eyes. Horrific images of his brother flashed through his mind; Chuck’s bashed and battered head, him taking his last breathe, scenes of his brother being beaten. Then images of Maddie being attacked with him there watching, there too late. “Damn it. Pull over. Just let me drive.”
“No. Forty-eight more miles
. Come on. Anything. Ask me.”
Joe groaned. “Whatever. Okay. Little People do you really believe you see them? Or is it just your imagination? Or you just like acting crazy? What’s the truth?”
Steven slapped the steering wheel. “I told you they don’t like you talking about them. And we should never talk about them when it’s dark. They really hate that for some reason.”
“You really believe it don’t you?”
Steven shook his head wildly, throwing his ponytail back and forth. Then he heaved his head hard against the headrest. “It’ ain’t about believing, Joe, it’s about knowing. I told you before, you stupid white people just don’t get things. You just want to believe what you see, what you can take apart and put back together. The world is a wild … a … a mysterious place. Indians understand that and respect that and … we honor a world you just don’t understand. We’re in tune with mysteries, things ya’ll miss. Now, Little People aren’t really people, like you and me. I suppose they’re not really human. They’re more like … like spiritual beings. It’s a very spiritual world. There are things all around us we don’t see, don’t understand. Little People will help you sometimes. They can be mean too. They’re kind’a unpredictable. A lot of them, they like to tease. I’ve had em stick their little bitty fingers in my ear when I’m sleeping.”
“Come on. Steve.” Joe shook his head. He started to pronounce Steven crazy yet again, but caught himself. So naïve. How can someone be so naïve. “You don’t really believe that?”
Steven pounded the steering wheel with his right hand as he shouted. “Just … just go to hell you stupid idiot! Why do you have to judge what you don’t understand?”
“I’m sorry. You’re right.” Joe pictured long haired fairies flying around. He laughed saying, “So they’re kind ’a like fairies. Mischievous little pixies.”
“No stupid. Angels. They're kind’a like angels. You believe in angels don’t you?”
Angels? When he was little he believed in angels. But back then, well, Christmas was real, and Christmas had to have angels, so you had to be believe in angels when you six. Angels. His mother often told him the story of an angel coming to her, just before her grandmother, who had raised her, died in a car accident. The angel whispered to her, “Don’t worry, your nana will be fine, she’s coming home.” Another story he liked to believe when he was young. It seemed so naïve now. Maybe better to be naïve than to be cynical. He said, “I don’t know. Maybe.”