“Steven still loves his dad.”
“Yeah. I get that.”
“And that bothers you?”
“No, of course not. No. Rewind. Yes it does. It bothers me like hell. He has no business loving his dad. He should be glad he’s gone. My God, for the first time in years he’s safe. I know it’s a terrible thing to say, but good riddance to the bastard. And there he is missing his dad. Hell, I think he’s damn lucky it happened.”
“Okay, kiddo. Cut to the chase time. And you know what I’m gonna say.”
Joe stood up and paced around the small office. “You always say that. How should I know?” Braxton raised one eyebrow and tilted his head. “Yeah. Okay I know. It ain’t about Steven’s dad, it’s about my dad. I know.”
“Bingo. You feel some sort of guilt? That you can’t forgive your dad, that you can’t love him?”
“Yeah. No. Don’t do that. I hate it when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Assume. You assume.”
“I like to think of it as inviting introspection, not assuming. And you’re free to tell me when I’m full of it.”
“Most of the time you are. It was Steven, demanding that I to go tell my dad I love him. It was like he was freaking out about it. And he wouldn’t leave it alone. But I can’t do that and I won’t.” Joe plopped himself in the old gray chair.
“Why?”
“You know why.” Joe started to feel the same anger that he had when he was in the hospital, when he used to sit in this office. He took a deep breath and pushed that flash of anger away.
“Oh, I know your answer. He doesn’t deserve it. It’s time we got past that.”
Joe’s words became more frenetic with each sentence. He tried to slow himself down, calm the adrenaline shooting through his heart. “I can’t talk about it. But he, Steven, made me see something. And I can’t even say it.”
“Sure you can. Just say it.”
Joe hit the armrests with both fist. “It’s stupid. I know it is. I’m afraid to say it and I don’t know why.”
“Emotions. Such a pain in the ass sometimes. Give them words. Give those emotions permission to surface, to have a life. They won’t kill ya.” Braxton rubbed his chin, then pointed a finger at Joe. “You know Joe. It’s so obvious what it is. And it’s so okay. So normal.”
Joe wrapped his hands around the back of his neck and shook his head. “If it’s so goddamn obvious then I don’t need to say it, do I? Go on, you say it. Tell me what’s so obvious. I don’t want to play your guessing games.”
“Why’s it so hard to say? Simple enough. You never felt your dad loved you. And when a kid feels unloved, they assume something’s wrong with them, that they’re not lovable, that they don’t deserve to be loved.”
Joe felt the pressure of tears welling up begging for freedom. He put his palms on his eyes trying to push them back. “No you’re wrong. I didn’t feel he never loved me. He stopped loving me. He just stopped loving me. And … I don’t know why.”
“You know what Joe? What you feel is real. But your dad never stopped loving you. Dads don’t do that.”
“Well he did.” Joe could feel the rage flash through his eyes. “Easy. It’s always easy for you. What do you know about me? About him? He hates me and I don’t know why and I don’t care why anymore. All I know is … I can’t love him. He’ll just hurt me again.” Joe paused, leaned his head back and took in a deep slow breath “‘Chin up. Chin up.’ That’s what he said as he walked out the door. ‘I’ll see you real soon.’ ‘It’s for the best.’ He walked out of my life. He went loving after goddamn whores and quit loving me.” Joe sat up and started to stand but let himself fall back in the chair. What’s the point? No point. No one cares. No one understands. Screw this. Screw him. What the hell am I doing back here? He looked at Braxton. His gray eyes looked puzzled, trying to understand, trying to say he cared. “The other night when Steve was being such a pain, what I realized … and this is what hurts so much, that I do want to love him and I want him to love me. But it can never happen. Do you get that? I’ll never take that risk. It all hurts … hurts too freakin’ bad.”
Braxton stood up and put his hand on Joe’s shoulder. At that moment, unspeakable pain ripped through his soul causing his body to shiver. Chained grief twisted and thrashed, then burst through his gut and up into his heart and out through the ignored tears of a seven year old boy who’d lost his father’s love. Joe wailed until his lungs felt incapable of functioning and the sting in his eyes was unbearable.
After fifteen minutes, his tears subsided. Braxton sat down and said. “There. Didn’t kill you kiddo, letting those emotions have their way. How do you feel?”
“Don’t really know. Maybe good. But it doesn’t change anything. I can’t love him ‘cause I’ll never ever believe that he loves me. That’s why I have to keep hating him.”
Braxton’s chair creaked as he leaned back and tucked his left leg under his right knee. “Now, you’re making things easy. I tell you what, hate comes easy, way too easy. It’s love that’s goddamn hard.”
“Yeah. So what?”
“So what? When are you gonna start doing what’s hard and quit taking the easy but miserable road? Here’s an idea. Go home, take a risk, and let your dad in. You just might discover he does love you and always has … loved you in his imperfect and very human way. And Joe, he may … he may let you down, leave you again. But you know what, that’s his problem and that would be his loss.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“You’re not being punished Maddie. Your parents just want you to get help, get better.” Maddie barely heard the words Marie, her therapist, spoke.
‘Rising Sun Ranch.’ Saving trouble teens – at least that’s what the glossy and sappy brochure confidently declared. Transformation, that was the favorite word in the colorful promotional materials full of smiling and perfectly behaved teenagers. For teens with behavioral problems, mental health disorders and substance abuse issues … Restoring sanity and dignity to children and families ... There is hope for your out of control teenager. Hope for what? Maddie’s parents sat across from her in the therapist’s rustic yet plush office. Maddie sat sideways with her back to her parents. She stared out of the very large window that overlooked mountains smothered by alpine trees; trees brightened by a fresh snow that gently and lovingly rested on strong and proud branches. Picture perfect. It was picture perfect. “Whatever.” Maddie muttered under her breath.
Maddie glanced toward her parents and noticed her dad’s hands tightly gripping the armrest on the leather bound chair. She looked away as her dad began to speak. “Don’t make this hard Maddie. You have to work with these people. Work with us. We don’t want you here. We want you home.”
A quick shrug of Maddie’s shoulders declared defiant disregard for anything her father would say.
Marie’s annoyingly calm voice said, “Well Maddie. What would you say is the biggest problem we need to be working on?”
Silence.
“Please Maddie. Talk to us.” Judith’s tone sounded apologetic. Maddie felt manipulated. More silence – wonderful, in your face, you can’t make me, I hate you, silence.
Marie shifted her shoulders toward Maddie’s parents and said, “Well, if she not going to engage, we’ll try to figure out where we need to focus without her input. What are your concerns?”
Howard sighed, then said, “The lying, the sneaking around. Just the defiance. She has everything she needs, everything she wants. But still, the lying, the disrespect. And then there’s the cutting. Cutting? It’s just so ridiculous, so … so senseless. She’s just completely out of control and we don’t know what to do. No punishment works. She grounded from everything and she doesn’t care. She’s hell-bent on sabotaging her whole life. And I don’t understand it.” Her dad’s words came out quickly, curtly. Maddie knew he was feeling desperate, angry, and was working hard to control himself – exactly what she wanted.
Judith
crossed, then uncrossed her legs, her hand and arms couldn’t stay still. “Judith? What do you want to say?” The therapist’s question was so … therapist: rehearsed, rote, oozing with the pretense of caring – the ‘I know what’s wrong here’ tone. Maddie didn’t like this counselor from the moment she first caught a glimpse of her walking across the parking lot. Short sassy blonde hair and her nicely tanned and radiant face – still barely springtime – obviously an expensive self-induced tan that those full of themselves have to have. And there was her thin but athletic build with sturdy shoulders and hardened arms; one of those people who pride themselves in being fit and active and look down on anyone five pounds overweight. Probably wanted this job so she could go skiing every day after work. “Judith? It’s obvious you want to say something.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Maddie noticed Judith shift in her chair and look down at her feet. He mother looked so uncomfortable, so desperate. She felt bad for her mom; but she had no choice but to stand her ground. Maddie let out a faint sigh as her mom began to speak. “He just doesn’t get it. Those are all surface issues. He can’t see, understand the hurt, the damage. His anger is on the wrong person.”
Howard snapped back. “I’m not angry at her. I’m concerned. And what happened, was years ago and is not the issue right now. She talked about it, she dealt with all that at the hospital. Judith, she doesn’t need to be coddled. She needs to be responsible and respectful. That’s all I ask. All I expect.”
“Howard, she needs to be understood. Not punished.” Judith said with a bit more force.
“Look at her now. This defiance has nothing to do with my brother.” Her father’s voice bordered on shouting. Maddie nearly cringed but carefully remained rigid in her chair. She could feel his finger pointing at her. She began to count the trees lining a service road at the end of the parking lot. She hummed softly as her dad continued. “This a behavioral problem clear and simple. This is about respect and the choices she’s been making. Choices that are going to ruin her life.”
Judith drew in a breath and spoke more calmly. “She needs to be understood. If you could see that, maybe we wouldn’t be here.”
Tears began to well up in Maddie’s eyes. Yes. Mom understands. Mom still cares.
Howard pulled his hand through his hair. “It is her choices that got her here.”
Maddie turned and looked at her mother and wiped her tears away. “Just take me home. This is not going to help me. It’s just making me more angry. Take me home.”
Judith looked down. “We can’t do that puppet. This will help you. There are things you need to work on. You need to let it help you.”
Maddie set her gaze back on the distant landscape; beautiful, inviting, soothing. Escape. Stay here forever. Why not. Things you need to work on. Let it help me. Mom’s right. But how? Deserve the shame, deserve to live with guilt. I can only hate myself. That’s the right and noble thing to do. Maddie looked back at her mom with pleading eyes and said, “This can’t help. Just take me home.”
Marie raised her rather masculine hand and with gentle confidence said, “Let’s step back here. Both your parents are right, Maddie. Choices, responsibility, respect. Yes, these need to be addressed. But the underlying issue, abuse by the uncle, is at the heart of what’s going on here and it must be our focus. And Howard, understanding the depth of your daughter’s damage and hurt is something you’re having great difficulty dealing with, facing up to. You’re avoiding the issue by keeping the focus on Maddie’s behaviors.”
Howard stood and moved behind his chair. “This is not about me. It is about my daughter. Don’t make this about me.”
“It is about Maddie. And that means it has to be about her family. It is indeed about you and Judith. Maddie is not the problem. The family is the problem. Maddie is not a problem, she is a victim that desperately needs your help to become a survivor.”
Maybe she understood, even cared. Maybe Marie’s not so bad. And just maybe she can escape the hell she’s been trapped in for four years; a hell empty and heartless. Every day she prayed that it had never happened; on her horrible days, she prayed she’d never been born.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“What the hell! What are you doing here? Jesus, Joe. You’re white as a ghost. What’s going on?” Joe stood motionless at the door to Chuck’s dorm room. He grabbed Joe by the arm and pulled him through the threshold. “Get in here. What the hell is going on?”
Joe sat down slowly on the bed. He opened his mouth but his throat constricted, there was no breathe to enable words to surface. He shook his head and handed Chuck a crumbled letter.
Chuck read the letter aloud; with each sentence, his tone became more incredulous, but soon his voice was filled with fear and panic. “My dearest Joe. Of course, you now know your feeble attempt to do me in failed. Leaving me for dead? Oh what a cruel, cruel thing for you to do. What a foolish thing for you to do. But how infinitely more hideous that you would drive me from your mother, the woman I love. Such acts as these cannot be forgotten. And such acts as these demand punishment. You, my child, must learn your lesson. Oh, I hate to have to be the one to teach you, but I fear I must. So do not see this as revenge, but as a harsh lesson for your evil act of hatred. You made me suffer. You beat me, would have beat me to death or so you hoped. But worst of all you took my love away from me. So I am afraid this is what I must do – the only loving way I know to teach you a lesson; to make you a better person, and indeed a stronger person. I shall take one of your loved ones away. I am still deciding who this shall be. Your sister? Your brother? Your father? Perhaps not him, you hate him so much already. Such a surprise he has come back to your home. Oh, you must be pleased! LOL. Well, perhaps it should be your mother, after all if I cannot have her with me why should you? Or maybe that Indian boy living with you, who you seem so fond of? Or the girl? I believe Maddie is her name, a girlfriend I assume. Pity they sent her away. You must miss her. While I decide who it is you shall lose … well, you can only live in fear, waiting, worrying, wondering who, where, and when. Yes. When? Today, next week, next month, maybe next year? I’m in no hurry Joe. No hurry at all. Now Joe, you can tell the police if you wish. Show them this letter if you dare. I know they’ve been snooping around. But if you do speak to them, here is my promise: that you will lose two loved ones. Things were going so well for us, with your mother. Then you and Chuck had to destroy it. I’m sorry it has come to this dear Joe. Truly sorry.”
Chuck sat beside Joe. Silence swallowed them up. Joe’s head spun, his stomach heaved. He buried his head in his hands, took a few slow breaths, then muttered, “What do we do? I don’t know what to do. He’s crazy. I think he means it. He’s a psycho.”
Chuck stood up and shook his head. “It’s a bluff. He’s full of bull. Just trying to scare us. He’s playing a game with our heads. The goddamn bastard.”
“Chuck, how does he know? Know all those things? He’s watching us. My God, he’s watching everything we do. He is serious as hell.”
“I don’t know. And I don’t know what to do.” Chuck went over and sat on the windowsill. “No. We have to tell the police. They have to deal with this kind of … craziness.”
“We can’t. He’s a psycho. He’ll do it.”
“Okay Joe, think about it. If he’s crazy enough to follow through, then someone could die. If that happened and the police could have stopped it … we have to tell them.”
“So what if two … what if two people die? And how the hell does he know all this? He’s been planning this. He knows what he’s doing.”
“All the more reason to tell the police. And we have to tell mom and dad. We can’t sit on this. We have to tell them the whole story.”
Joe nodded; a horrible and unnerving terror devoured his gut. Tears slipped down both cheeks. “I’m scared Chuck.”
“That’s exactly what he wants. Don’t give in to him. I won’t.”
***
Joe stood under the archway leading
to the living room. Sapped of any more emotions, he watched the scene unfold with a surreal detachment.
“I’m sorry, but there is just not much we can do. As I said, we know who this man is. He’s been eluding the police and the FBI in ten or eleven states for months. This letter’s postmarked Chicago, three days ago. He could be there or in forty seven other states.”
“We need something done. Police protection.” Robert pointed his finger at the detective.
“We can’t have a police officer camped outside your house indefinitely. We just don’t have the resources for that. I can arrange for patrol cars to check on you now and then.”
“Now and then? What good is that?” Sarah said trying to steady her trembling hands.
“I’m sorry. These threats are vague. Meant to scare. I can’t … I can only assure you that we are doing all we can to find this man.” The detective stood up and placed the letter in a tattered folder. “You do have the option to leave this house and find somewhere to stay for a while. He obviously has had access to this home. Common sense that one changes the locks when a spouse suddenly leaves, as you assumed he had. I’m sorry, that’s all I can say right now. Call us immediately if he contacts you again in anyway. Chances are nothing will come of this. Likely, this is simply a scare tactic. Just a sadistic and twisted attempt at emotional revenge.” He walked past Joe toward the front door and opened it. He turned back and said, “I know this is difficult. I wish there was more I could do. If you hear anything more from this man, call immediately.” He closed the door and walked to his unmarked car.
Joe felt he had just watched a poorly written and poorly acted scene from some archaic TV show. He walked to the window and watched the black car pull away. Then suddenly, his whole body began shaking. He said in a near whisper, “This is all my fault. All my fault.”
Robert took Joe’s shoulder and turned him around. He held him tight and said. “This is no one’s fault but that damn bastard’s. I’ll not have you blaming yourself. You and Chuck, you did the right thing. He got what he deserved from you two. Don’t worry. This man will be taken care of, one way or another.”
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