Steven woke up in a cold, cold house. He was snug in his bed. They had not forgotten him. He shook his head and then his whole body. He said to himself, “Not a dream. That was not a dream.” Then he touched his forehead. The dried blood reminded him that his father’s beating was not a nightmare.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“A car registered to a Todd Lawson was found at the bottom of a ravine near an abandoned quarry some thirty miles north of Little Rock. Evidently, it careened off the back road. Back roads in that area are treacherous. Obviously, he had been drinking. Twenty empty beers cans and an empty bottle of Lortabs were found at the scene.” The too tall, smartly dressed detective stood as he spoke, his piercing gaze went from one family member to the next.
With mouth slightly agape, Joe gazed at the man. The detective’s tone and entire demeanor did not seem natural. How can a man, a voice, be so dead? A heartless robot shows more emotion; Steven Hawkins shows more emotion with his computerized voice box than this guy. Joe had dreaded this moment, when the Law would come knocking, wanting answers – the secret exposed and his life destroyed. “We are arresting you for the murder for Todd Lawson. You have the right to remain silent.” It was inevitable; you can’t kill someone and get away with it. But the more this detective said the more Joe felt his shoulders and stomach uncoil. Yes. Finally, the gorilla would get off his back.
“He was a drunk.” Chuck said mirroring the detective’s emotionless tone.
“I just don’t understand. That can’t be true. I really won’t believe it.” Sarah buried her face in her hands. “Oh my God. No. He had his problems, but not ...”
“Honestly mam, not our concern. His car was registered at this address. I assume he was living here. You may have been the last ones to see Mr. Lawson.”
“He’s my husband.”
“Was.” Chuck and Joe said in tandem
“I have filed for a divorce. Papers are ready to be served, but we don’t know where he is. All I know is that he told the boys he was going back to Texas. He grew up there … in El Paso. He just left us. But … the poor man. What would he have been doing there? Up in that area?”
“My guess mam … maybe a drug deal gone bad. I can tell you this, there is more to that man than you are aware of Mrs. Lawson”
“It’s Kline. Mrs. Kline.” Chuck said.
Sarah said, “I don’t know what you mean.” Joe noticed his mother’s hands trembling as she nervously rubbed them together. She looked at Joe, then Chuck. Joe got up, stood behind her and patted her shoulders. His gesture was an attempt not so much to comfort his mom as to dismiss the anger churning in his gut. He didn’t want to be angry with his mom, but he was. Angry that she remained naïve, angry that she still seemed to care about the bastard.
“I’m not here to get into domestic concerns. We have a missing person and we are trying to find any leads that may help us. Mr. Lawson is missing, but he is also a wanted man.”
“I thought you said …meant he was dead. He’s not dead? You think he’s alive?” Joe felt a bolt of electricity rush through his body.
“No body was found. It’s difficult to know what went on. The vehicle had been abandoned for several weeks, perhaps a few months. Has he had any contact with you Mrs. Lawson? It is imperative we find this individual. He is very dangerous man.”
Sarah shook her head. Chuck said, “What? No. Wow. We never heard anything from him. Never called, texted, wrote. Nothing. And it’s Kline, not Lawson. We just thought he was back in Texas … until the police officer came by a few weeks ago. Said he was missing. And I told him what happened. It was nothing serious. Like you said, it was just domestic problems. That was all.” Chuck stood up and stood by the window.
“I’m in the dark here. What’s this about? I don’t understand any of this.” Sarah said shaking her head.
“I’m sure your boys will tell you, mam. You have my card. Should you hear or learn anything more, call me.”
“Wanted? What’s he wanted for?” Joe asked.
“Don’t concern yourselves. Certainly he was not the man you thought him to be.”
***
“Is mom gonna be okay? This is crazy. You’re right, we should have told her everything a long time ago.” Joe said as he stood staring out Chuck’s bedroom window. Both talked softly. Their mom had finally gone to bed, only after Chuck found some of her old valiums and convinced her to take two; hopefully she would have a good night’s rest.
Chuck’s loud response slapped Joe in the face. “Yeah, right. You should have told her you killed a man. Killed her husband. I don’t think so.”
Joe turned around and pointed at Chuck. “That was a goddamn accident. I didn’t mean it to go that far, I just got … Chrisssake, he’s not dead. All this time and .... Jesus, Chuck I didn’t kill the man. He’s alive. And you know what? Mom will be all right. Everything will be all right. I didn’t kill him. My God, I didn’t kill him. All of sudden it feels like I can live again.”
“Breathe easy, eh? I guess we can all breathe easy. But wow, mom married to a wanted man. What do you think? Drugs? A pimp trafficking underage prostitutes? Into kiddie porn? Murder? Yeah, probably a murderer. My God, a murderer living here. Our mother, married to a murderer, imagine that. Whatever he is, we did the right thing all right. No mistaken that. And we must have done a pretty good job, them thinking it was a drug deal gone bad. Those Lortabs were a good touch too, if I say so myself.”
“Yeah. But … But he’s alive. To tell what happened. Think he will? Show up and …”
“He’s wanted. He ain’t gonna show up. You’re safe Joe. We’re safe.”
“Yeah. But, geez how’s mom gonna deal with all this?”
“She will. Everything’s out now. She’ll get through it. And …” Chuck paused and laughed. “and dad is going be around more.”
Joe’s eyes flashed. He stepped forward and glared at Chuck. “What’s that mean? What the hell does that mean?”
“Joe, calm down. You need to know this. Mom’s been putting off telling you. It’s likely dad’s gonna move back home.”
“You better be joking. You trying to screw up Christmas?”
Chuck jumped off his bed and put his hands on Joe’s shoulders. “Unbelievable, but true. I don’t like it either, but we have to deal with it. It may be just what mom needs right now. So don’t go sabotaging things. You don’t have to like him or respect, or love him. Just put up with him, for mom’s sake. You do it for mom. Joe, just put up with the bastard.”
Joe shook his shoulders and pushed Chuck’s arms away. He instinctively swung his right fist and just missed Chuck’s chin. “Shut up. Go to hell. This is not gonna happen. I hate him. I can’t deal with him being back here. It ain’t gonna happen.”
Chuck pushed Joe hard, and he fell onto the bed. “Joe cool it. It is gonna happen. Deal with it. And you remember this. What we do, we do for mom.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Eight ball. Corner pocket.”
“Can’t be done Dad. Six and two-ball are sitting right there. No way. You must be going blind or crazy.” Maddie tilted her head at her father, put on a sly grin. She said, “Want’a bet on it?”
“Oh dear. I could never take candy from such a beautiful baby. Now, you watch and learn, young one. Watch and learn from the big boys.” Howard methodically pulled his ivory handled cue stick back and breathed in slowly. The cue struck the pearl-white ball, which leapt over the two balls, bounced once and tapped the eight ball, sending it slowly and confidently to the corner pocket. The black ball politely dropped into its resting place. “Not bad for a blind old man.”
Maddie laughed. “I so preferred the days when you used to let me win.”
“Oh dear child, you were young and vulnerable then. It is a necessary ploy parents lovingly use to assist their children in building self-esteem.”
“And how is it now you’ve taken on the role to destroy it?” Judith said as she set her eggnog on an end table and picked
up a crossword book.
Howard laughed. “Well, you see the role of a parent evolves. Now she is a young woman and my job is to prepare her ready for the real world where nothing comes easy. Another game puppet?”
“Enough already, dad. You know what time it is? Time to watch … The Christmas Story.”
Howard threw his hands up. “No! No! Not again. Worst Christmas tradition of all time.”
“Oh, you know you love it, dad. Don’t pretend otherwise. Best Christmas movie ever. Let’s go.”
Howard pointed his cue stick at Maddie, “No, no. I think this year I shall have the deciding vote, and my vote is cast for … A Wonderful Life. Now, that my lovely child is the best Christmas movie hands down. The only one endorsed by Santa himself.”
Maddie rolled her eyes and said, “Whatever.”
Howard took Maddie’s cue and placed both cue sticks in the rack. “Let’s go. Movie time.”
Maddie took her father’s arm. She said, “We’ll do both. Christmas story first.” She motioned to her mom. “Let’s go.”
The three climbed the staircase leading to the multi-media room, her dad’s most beloved and cherished room in his humble mansion. He had designed it and then, by himself, remolded the entire third story of their home into the most envied home theater in the country, or so he insisted.
Maddie sat between her parents and held their hands. “I’m glad we didn’t go away for Christmas.”
Howard said. “Me too puppet.”
“This is the best Christmas Eve ever. Who needs a fancy party that stresses everyone out? This shall be the best Christmas ever.” Maddie felt tears welling up; tears she welcomed.
“You’re right. Who needs a Christmas Eve party; worrying about sixty relatives and friends driving us batty and draining us from every ounce of energy and sanity?” Judith said and rested her head on Maddie’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you insisted we stay here. I’ve never enjoyed Christmas Eve, or the week leading up to it, as I have this one. I do believe that we have begun a new Holiday tradition.”
***
“I can never watch this bit.” Maddie covered her eyes. Flick was just about to put his tongue on the frozen flagpole after being double-dog-dared. The phone rang.
“Saved by the bell.” Howard hit pause and added, “Don’t worry. I won’t let you miss this bit.”
As Judith reached for the phone, she said, “Now, who the heck could this be? Caller ID says ‘unknown number.’”
Maddie moaned and said, “Probably some family member wanting to call a truce and wish us Merry Christmas. Don’t answer it.”
“This better not be that brother of yours, Howard.” Judith took a deep breath and answered. “Hello … Yes it is … Please slow down … Yesss?” Judith shrugged and shook her head. “She’s busy. May I ask who’s calling?” Judith covered the receiver and whispered. “Very strange.” She put the phone on her other ear. “I’m sorry, say again … Steven? Now are you from Maddie’s school?” Mom looked at Maddie, who shook her head and motioned no with her hands.
“Couldn’t be anyone I know. They’d call my cell.” Maddie whispered to her dad.
“Are you sure you have the correct number? … Well, she’s not available. I’ll tell her you called. What was your last name, Steven? … Sorry, did you say Littleaxe? Steven Littleaxe?”
Maddie grabbed the phone and bolted off the couch. “Steven? What are you doing? How’d you get my number? No. Sorry. Just surprised to hear from you. Are you alright?” She flew down the stairs and went to her bedroom.
Steven’s words came out rushed, nearly inaudible. Maddie shouted, “Slow down! For God’s sake, slow down Steven!”
Maddie felt her body shiver as Steven spoke, “My dad, he’s going crazy. He’s shooting everything up. He’s …” The phone went dead. Maddie pushed redial several times but there was no answer.
***
“Now tell us. Who was that?” Howard asked as Maddie returned. She sat on the floor in front of the couch and shook her head.
Judith reached over and stroked her hair. “My God. You’re white as a sheet. What just happened? Who was that?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. It’s Steven. That guy from the hospital. The Indian. The kind of crazy one.”
Howard’s voice was stern, but full of disappointment. “Oh no Maddie. We warned you about getting involved in any way with those people there, and certainly you have better sense than to give someone there your personal information.”
“Dad stop. I didn’t. I don’t know how he got this number. But … No. Something’s terribly wrong. I don’t know what to do. It’s like his phone got disconnected. It went dead. I have no idea where he lives. He sounded scared to death. He said … he said his dad was shooting a gun. Shooting up everything.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The obnoxious, angry rumble of a motorcycle jarred Joe just as he had welcomed the slumber of sleep. A foreign sound on his street. The intrusive roar of a motorcycle had not been heard in his neighborhood since his father sold his beloved Harley, that was shortly before he divorced his mother. The thunder of the engine stirred unwanted emotions and carefully ignored memories – riding around the countryside with his dad, the wind fingering his hair and caressing his face; dad laughing as their speed increased; Joe’s screams of joy and fear reaching a crescendo; the smell of the oily exhaust and of his dad’s Old Spice. Memories of when his father was still his hero.
The rumble stopped. “Dad’s home. Dad’s home.” He used to shout to his brother when the Harley pulled into the driveway and the engine silenced. Joe closed his eyes and tried to shake off those memories, those emotions of a childhood stolen from him. He heard footsteps on the front porch and then saw a hooded shadow etched against the curtain. The shadow then peered through a crack in the curtain; the ghostly figure seemed to be willing its way into Joe’s bedroom. Joe’s heart speed up to an unbearable rate. It’s Todd, back from the dead, come to bring revenge. Joe grabbed a baseball and began to inch his way toward the window.
Tap tap tap. A muted voice called out, “Joe? Does Joe live here? I think Joe is supposed to live here. Is anyone in there? I’m looking for Joe.”
Joe opened the curtain. Steven’s nose and cheek pressed against the glass; his matted and wild hair formed a chaotic mane. “What the heck are you doing here? Good God. It’s Christmas Eve. No, hell, it’s Christmas now. What are you doing? You know what time it is?”
“No. Let me in.”
Joe opened his window and pushed Steven away from the window. “Go home Steve. Some other time. How’d you find me anyway? Jesus, just get the hell home.”
“I can’t go home. I need to come live with you.”
“You’ve gone really crazy this time. Go home or I’ll call the police.”
“My dad’s dead. He killed himself.”
“What? What’d you say?”
“My dad’s dead. He killed himself. And I said I need to live with you.”
“Get in here.” Joe pulled Steven through the window. “What’s happened?”
“I told you. He shot himself. He was going crazy. I think he was tweaking, I think he did some ice or some’n really bad. PCP maybe. He found some kind of bad stuff somewhere. He went crazy berserk, took his gun and went outside and started shooting, said he was shooting the Little People. He came in and told me to go get him some more beer. I told him no, that he could get it himself if he wants to screw up his life. ‘I ain’t playing games boy’ he said, ‘Go get me the goddamn beer.’ I told him to go to hell. He says, ‘you want to play games? How 'bout a little Russian roulette.’ He points his gun at my head and he says ‘Bang, you’re dead,’ and laughed. He points it at himself and says, ‘Bang, I’m dead,’ and laughs. He kept doing it. Then he says, ‘Why you crying boy? Afraid? Afraid I’ll pull the trigger? Maybe I will.’ Then he laughs hard and says ‘the gun ain’t loaded boy. I wouldn’t hurt ya. See.’ He put the gun to his head. Blew a hole in h
is head. He’s dead. I started to call 911. But then, they told me to run. ‘You must run, but carefully choose where you run to.” That’s what they said. They said, “Your father had a great destiny, he ran the wrong way. You have a great destiny but you must run to that destiny.’ That’s what they told me. So I ran here. I stole his … no I took it, it’s mine now. Took his motorcycle and here I am. Now, I need to live with you.”
Joe rubbed his face with his hands. His nose and mouth remained hidden behind his cupped hands as he spoke. “My God Steve. This is insane. I’m sorry, that’s horrible. I don’t know what to say. You have to call the police. You can’t just leave your dad like that. And, who told you to run? You can’t run off like that. Who would tell you to run?”
“No one. You wouldn’t understand. No one told me nuth’n.”
“God, you on about those Little People again? Steve that’s crazy talk. I’m sorry it is. Little People didn’t tell you anything. You can’t run from this. You can’t live here. Little People are in your head, nowhere else. We have to call the police now. You can’t leave him there. You can’t run away. You can’t listen to voices in your head. You been taking your meds?”
Steven opened the window. “You’re right. It’s in my head. My brain’s playing tricks on me. I’m crazy. Sometimes I forget just how crazy I am.” He looked back at Joe. A single tear rolled down his right cheek. “I need a friend, I need a family. My father’s dead. My mother’s dead. Child Welfare is gonna put me in a group home or send me to rot in an Indian boarding school in Oklahoma.” Steven turned around and stumbled out of the window. His voice trailed off. “No it’s fine. I’ll go be with my grandparents. I’ll be fine. I’ll be just fine. I know where to run.’