by B K Johnson
It took the intervention of Trish and Nadine, who encouraged her to go into rehab, for Tommy to begin to get well. They paid for her 30-day stay at a beautiful facility in Marin County, where Tommy, sick and tired of being sick and tired, went willingly. They visited her twice a week to support her and catch up on her progress. Gradually, Tommy began to feel that she could exist without the numbing effects of alcohol. Group sessions allowed her to begin to speak of her despair, and individual sessions with her attending psychiatrist gave her tools to learn to deal with her emotions. An anti-depressant didn’t hurt, but when Tommy was released she discontinued its use. She was determined to change her life for the better without any medicinal substance altering her consciousness.
Now, Tommy shared at the meeting and let go of the stressors of the last month. She could only speak in generalities in order to spare her clients any possibility their confidentiality would be compromised, but as she let out her frustrations with the system and society, she felt the anxiety literally drain from her mind and body. Refreshed and comforted by the other attendees and their stories and commiseration and understanding, Tommy was prepared to return the phone call she had been dreading. Her brother, Jeremiah Eagle O’Malley, had left a message for her yesterday about her father, Sean Seamus O’Malley, now age 75. He had been 10 years older than her mother when they wed, and had aged tremendously since Windsong died when Tommy was 5, some 30 years before.
The last time Tommy had seen Sean, whom she still called Poppa, he had barely known who she was. The doctors were unsure if he was suffering more from early dementia, Alzheimer’s, or an alcoholic’s wet brain. Whatever the cause, which only a coroner could finally pronounce once he was gone and his brain dissected, the result was the same. At times he would be quite alert and remember everything from years past, including how he met and fell in love with the stunning Windsong in Pitcher, Oklahoma. At the same time his long-term memory was functioning on all cylinders, he would not remember what he had for breakfast that morning.
It pained Tommy to see him, and she yearned for the days of her early childhood when Windsong sang her lullabies while her father gently rocked her to sleep. As the youngest child, and only female, she had been spoiled by her parents. Once Windsong passed, however, from untreated cervical cancer, Tommy’s life had changed abruptly, and for the worse. She had little desire to keep in contact with her father or her brothers.
Jerome “Tincup” O’Malley was the brother closest to Tommy in age. He was still 5 years older than her, and hated her on sight when she was born. Until that time, he had been the baby, and been treated as such. When Tommy came along, all the attention went her way, and Jerome’s anger festered like a vicious boil. Windsong tried to alleviate Jerome’s violent antipathy toward Tommy, because she was aware of it. Sean was convinced that whenever Jerome took some malicious act against Tommy, like burying her in his underground fort, tripping her down the stairs, pulling her braids until she screamed, that it was just a boy being a boy.
So it was that when Windsong was cremated and her spirit soared through the willow trees, Sean poured himself into his bottle, sobering up only long enough to work his 8 hours a day at the refinery in Martinez, California, where the family had moved so he could get better pay for his work in the oil industry. Tommy’s care was pretty much left to Jeremiah “Eagle”, the oldest of her siblings at 12 years her senior.
When Eej, which was his nickname, was home his sharp eyes saw everything, as an eagle’s will. He disciplined Jerome mercilessly for his vicious acts against Tommy. He never called him by his Indian name, as he hated it. Eej tried telling his father about Jerome’s torment of Tommy, and to involve his father in getting Jerome to behave. As long as Eej was home, Tommy was safe. When he wasn’t, her world revolved around trying to stay clear of her evil brother, and surviving when she was unable to avoid him.
All of which made Tommy learn to fight fiercely to defend herself, not to trust men and to work as hard as she could in school and in sports to be smarter, stronger, and fleet of foot. If she couldn’t best her brother nemesis, she would run or hide from him. And she got good at it. Enough so that she not only survived his torture, but so that he began to fear her, thinking her a witch.
She had not laid eyes on Jerome in 10 years. She had been 25 when he pointed a gun at her in the presence of her father. Her green eyes glittered while she told him to make sure every round pierced her body or she would kill him if it was the last act she took. Her father sobbed weakly in his chair and didn’t say a word. Jerome saw Tommy’s will of steel, twirled the gun, and said he was only kidding, sauntering from the room. Since then she had made it a point never to be at her Poppa’s when Jerome was around, not for fear of him, but for fear she would kill him in front of their father.
Now, it appeared she would have no choice. When she returned the call, Eej told her Poppa was in such ill health that he was having to be moved to a final care facility, and was given very little time to live. He was totally unable to care for himself, and had become so weak and emaciated that all of his vital organs were self-terminating. His mind had deteriorated so greatly that he could not remember even his own name, much less those of his sons. He had repeatedly, however, said Tommy’s name, over and over, like a chant.
Jerome was living with his father, supposedly caring for him, until the transfer to the hospice facility was completed. Tommy would have to encounter Jerome one more time. Eej promised her he would protect her, and keep Jerome away from her. He pleaded with her that Poppa really had to see her before he would no longer recall who she was, or why he wanted to talk to her. Eej was convinced that once Poppa was moved to the final care facility, what little was left of his brain would cease to function. Tommy, whom Eej humorously called GTO due to her first car, a 1965 Pontiac GTO, and her initials, immediately relented and said she would drive to Concord that evening.
Tommy packed an overnight case, went down to tell Duke she’d be gone for at least a day and why, and let him hold her while she cried silent tears and told him what was going on with her Poppa. Duke took her by the shoulders, and said “Get a grip on yourself, Tommy, or you won’t be any good to either your Poppa or Eej, now will you be able to stand up to Jerome. Now suit up and get in that ring with me. Work out your fears and your hurt, and trust your magnificent mind and body.”
Feeling relieved, strong and revitalized after the workout, and far more confident, Tommy took a quick shower and set off for the hour drive to Concord, waving a grateful good-by to Duke.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Ten minutes from the Concord home where she grew up, Tommy called Eej from her car phone. “Hey, are you going to meet me at home?” she queried.
“I’m on my way there now,” responded Eej. “If you get there before I arrive, just park out front and wait for me. I promise I will be there to let you in to see the old man.”
“Thanks,” replied Tommy. “See you in ten.” Eej had moved to Martinez to be closer to the Shell Oil Refinery where their father had worked until he retired at 65. Eej had followed in his father’s footsteps as a pipe fitter at the same refinery and was as well-known there as his dad had been. Martinez was just a few minutes from Concord, and Eej often made the trip to the family home in ten minutes or less, depending on traffic.
As she rounded the corner of Bel Air Court and Concord Boulevard., memories flooded her being, some good, some horrible. There was the corner grocery store she used to buy candy from on her way home from school. Over there was her friend Barbara’s old home, where now another family’s children shot hoops through the same garage door basketball rim she and Barbara had practiced on hour after hour so many years ago. Right there, on the left, was the huge oleander bush Tommy had hidden in more than once while her jealous brother Jerome hunted her down. And there to the right, sitting on the old dilapidated glider on the porch of her family home was that same infamous brother, Jerome.
Tommy knew she had arrived before Eej, and that
there was no way she would meekly sit out in her car awaiting his arrival before she faced her nemesis. She pulled the Jetta to the curb, parked calmly, took a deep meditative breath, and exited the driver’s side door. Deliberately, she took long, purposeful strides up the sidewalk, eying her brother the whole time. He watched her, stood as she came within a few feet of the steps to the porch, and smiled. It was the smile she hated most in the entire world, that shit-eating grin of the cat who ate the canary. At the same time his teeth broadened into his signature smile, the one that had charmed more than one underage girl into sex with him, Jerome’s dark, flat eyes dully gazed at her like a shark ready to tear her limbs from her body.
“Hello, Jerome,” she managed to say. “Done any more time lately for statutory rape, or have you graduated from prison school with a degree in sucking dicks?”
“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” growled Jerome, breaking all pretense of a friendly, family greeting. “I thought you might have grown up by now, but I see you are the same, stupid little cunt you’ve always been.”
“Use that word one more time, jerk-face,” sneered Tommy, “and it will be the last time you utter any word at all.” Tommy had automatically assumed her power stance and glare, the ones she used in the ring that had scared most of the women from even sparring with her, and more than a few of the men. Her fists were balled into weapons, and the weight of her body was distributed on her forward right foot.
“You don’t scare me, you drunk carpet-muncher,” taunted Jerome.
“First,” lectured Tommy, “I have never munched a carpet, you predatory little creep. And I object to that derogatory comment, as I have many friends who are beautiful gay women. Second, I have not had a drink in 5 years, so I’m not drunk now. I can assure you, I am no longer afraid of you or anything you could possible do to me. I won’t run or hide, now, bro. I am no longer the innocent little 5-year-old you victimized, but have grown up to be stronger than you will ever be. I may not be able to change the past, but I sure as hell can deal effectively with the present. I am here to see my father,” she asserted. “Move aside, leave, or prepare to have that shit-eating grin smashed into your nose.. The choice is up to you.”
Just then Eej’s sleek, black Jaguar screeched to a halt behind Tommy’s Jetta. Both siblings turned their attention to their oldest brother, who came roaring out of his vehicle. “Back off, Jerome,” he ordered his younger brother. “Tommy, stop posturing and move your butt over here. We are going into that house together, as a unit, if I have to drag one of you on my right and the other on my left. The old man doesn’t need this crap.”
Like two tomcats who’ve watched the female in heat they’d been fighting over, Jerome and Tommy continued to seethe and hiss, but they obeyed Eej. He was tougher, bigger, older, stronger, smarter and meaner than either of them, and neither one of them had ever bested him in a take-down. Tommy loved and respected him. Jerome feared him, and besides, Eej held the purse strings to their father’s income.
Eej allowed Tommy to precede him into the house, and he put himself between her and Jerome. He told Jerome to go wheel Sean from his bedroom into the living room. He gave Tommy a big hug when Jerome left the room, and told her to prepare herself for her father. “You won’t like how he looks,” he cautioned, “and he may or may not know who you are, but I’m hoping since he keeps saying your name that he wants you here so much he will respond to you. He sure isn’t communicating with any of us boys, except to say nobody can make him leave this house.”
Tommy squared her shoulders and dropped her head to whisper the Serenity Prayer. “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.” She had just lifted her head at the end of the prayer when she saw her father in his wheelchair, being pushed toward her by her hated brother. She couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her lips.
Sean O’Malley had been a strapping 6’5” bear of a man, weighing in at 280 pounds in his prime when he had swept Windsong off her feet. He’d had twinkling blue eyes, a thick mane of auburn hair, a sly grin, and the gift of blarney only the Irish can truly emulate. The wasted figure of a man sitting in the wheelchair in front of Tommy was so thin you could see every vein in his arms, his skin hung loosely over his body, his eyes were rheumy and watery, he had only a few wisps of white tufts spurting out of his ears and none on his head, and his head was drooped to his left shoulder as if he were already dead. Only his breathing belied the image of the deceased, for it was so labored it sounded like an air compressor was in the room.
Eej gently ushered Tommy forward with his left hand, while he went up to his father and placed his right hand under the old man’s jaw, drawing his head up so they could look him in the eyes. “Dad, you asked for Tommy, and here she is. Now tell her whatever it is you wanted to say.” The old man jerked to his senses, and fixed Tommy with a baleful stare. He seemed to try to recognize who this person was, and why he’d supposedly wanted to talk to her. Then, in one moment of bright clarity, he smiled a toothless grin that summoned the Sean of old, and reached his hands out to his only daughter.
“Child,” he said. “I just wanted to tell you how much your mother loved you, and how sorry I am I didn’t take better care of you.” He turned his head to look Jerome squarely in the face and demanded, “Now you tell your sister you are sorry for all those hateful things you did, son, and then I can leave this earth in peace and go to be with my wife.” This effort was so hard for the old man to make that he began to shake with such tremors that both Tommy and Eej had to hold him steady.
Jerome snorted and said, “As if,” and left the house through the front door. Tommy started to go after him to kick his butt, for his disrespect to their father.
Eej restrained her, saying. “No, GTO, let him go. He’s not worth the effort.”
Sean had fallen forward with his head to his chest, but the labored breathing continued, so his children knew he still lived, even if in a deep sleep. Tommy leaned over and kissed the old bald head and said, “Thank you, Poppa,” and turned away while the tears streamed down her face. Her oldest brother pushed their father back to the bedroom, which had become his purgatory. When Eej returned, Tommy thanked him for making her come, and told him to call on her if he needed any help with transferring their father to the final care facility. He hugged her again and told her to go home in peace, and know that their father had finally acknowledged Jerome’s sins against her.
Tommy reached her car uneventfully, continuing to look over her shoulder and around the yard in case Jerome was preparing to attack her. She locked the doors and drove back to the city, stunned at the scene that had just taken place. She had waited for years for her father to tell her he was sorry, and to punish her brother for his cruelty toward her. She finally had that apology now, and only wished she could have loved her father these last several years instead of writing him off.
Pulling her thoughts from her family in an effort to drive carefully and keep from dissembling, she soon began to think of her life now. She had so much to be grateful for, instead of remaining bitter over the past. By the time she reached the Caldecott tunnel, she began to think of the Gage investigation. She retraced all her steps and realized there were other witnesses she had not interviewed. First, the brunette at the home down the street from the Gage mansion, whom Samantha had visited during that first surveillance. The one who’d pulled down the curtains when she and Samantha embraced. Now that woman must know something important, thought Tommy.
Secondly, Samantha’s own mother. Surely she would have an interest in identifying Samantha’s killer. And third, Daniella, the teenage lover. So when she returned to her loft, she not only had the satisfaction of knowing she had other leads to follow, but climbed her steps with a peace in her heart she had not felt for over 30 years. As she laid her head down on her pillow, she said the litany that passed for her prayers and, for the first time in forever, she asked God to bless Sean O’Malley.
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br /> CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Hi, Dave. Please come in. My, you look handsome.” Loke’s sultry voice greeted Dave at her doorstep while her warm smile enticed him anew. She reached her hand out to him to guide him across her threshold, but his hands were behind his back.
He bent his tall, lanky body and stooped to kiss her cheek, asking her, “Right hand or left.”
“Left,” she giggled. He brought his left arm around in front of him and handed her the bottle of Pouilly Fuisse white wine to go with dinner. She thanked him profusely, as this was her favorite wine, and quite out of her reach financially. Or so she had said when he asked her one night they were out and he ordered it in the restaurant.
“And now the right.” Dave spoke as if he was a magician while he brought his right hand around and flourished the bouquet of a dozen yellow roses, smelling sweetly of their attar.
“Oh my goodness,” gushed Loke. You not only remembered my favorite wine, but my favorite flowers, too. You are just the sweetest man ever, Dave.” Loke gently took the flowers from him as she thanked him and turned to lead him through her living room into her kitchen. She really did think he was a very sweet and handsome man, and felt a little badly that she’d told him roses were her favorite, when gardenias were. And actually the white wine he’d brought was distasteful to her, since she preferred red, full-bodied wines. Strangely enough, she felt worse about lying to him about these things then everything else. And she felt no guilt at all that the only reason he was in her house was because he was Tommy’s best friend.