Life So Perfect

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Life So Perfect Page 20

by Nathan Bassett


  “You should. They’ve helped me, when I really needed it, was really lost. So ask me another question.”

  “Okay. Steven, what do you want to do? I mean with your life. What do you want to be?”

  “When I’m all growed up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I want to be a therapist. Help people. Work in a hospital with kids. Or maybe work with druggies and winos. Especially with Indians, they need lots of help. Yip. I’m going to college and be somebody. You know, I don’t know one Indian that’s gone to college. That’s what I’m gonna do, go to college and help people, save people; that’s my gift.”

  Joe looked at Steven. His face looked so much like a young child; he still had to remind himself that Steven was sixteen. Joe’s heart seemed to change somehow as Steven talked; he felt what may have been envy, or maybe it was a sense of awe. He’s gone through so much and still so innocent, so childlike. No, it’s more than that. What is it? It’s a crazy hope he holds onto. How can he have so much hope when he has no reason to have it? Geez, with what he’s been through, what a shitty life, and he still … Hope, that’s something I’ve lost. Joe swatted Steven’s arm and said, “That’s cool, real cool. You can do that.”

  “And something I want to do, gonna do … is dance. Yip, Indian dances, at Pow-wows. The Fancy Dance, I want to learn that. And I’ll be a great dancer. I’ll get respect and … be admired at the Pow-wows, like my grandfather was.” Steven stopped and took in a slow breath, filling his lungs, he nodded and seemed to be imagining himself dancing at a Pow Wow. Suddenly, he slapped Joe’s knee and said, “Hey, we can all go … to a Pow-wow, the three of us. I’ll take you to a Pow-wow and you will watch me dance.”

  “That’d be cool. Real cool. Yeah, we’ll do that.”

  “Promise?”

  “Sure. I promise.”

  “Okay. My turn. My question. Do you love Maddie?”

  “Damn it. Leave out.”

  Steven shook his head, the swatted Joe’s shoulder. “Well?”

  Joe rubbed his hand through his hair, then looked out the side window. “No I don’t love Maddie, not like that anyway. I don’t even like her like that. She’s a good friend, that all. That’s a stupid question.” Joe looked back at Steven and emphatically stated, “No, I don’t love her.”

  Steven laughed, an unexpected belly laugh. “Huh, you’re so wrong. Don’t be lying. You like her and you do love her. I think you’re just afraid she won’t love you.”

  Anger shot through Joe’s body. His chest tightened and the muscles in the back of his neck felt like they were burning. He bit his lower lip. This kid dares to tell me what I think and feel. He took a breath and tried to pronounce his words slowly, to muffle the depth of his anger. “Hey. Shut up. Don’t try and tell me what’s going on inside me. I don’t love her. So shut up.” In the hidden depths of his soul, Joe knew Steven was right – but he could never give words to that hidden and frightful feeling, that wonderful, exotic and overwhelming emotion people call love. To talk about his feelings toward her, to give his hidden yearning words would only encourage his heart to believe foolish fantasies. “She’s a friend. I don’t love her like that. Alright?”

  Steven honked the horn as he said, “Yes you do. And she loves you.”

  Enough. Shut up already. Joe let out a faint growl and said, “Whatever. You got another question or not?”

  “Yeah. Have you forgiven your dad yet?”

  “I think so.”

  “I think so? That’s a yes or no question. Yes or no?”

  “I guess.”

  Steven blew the horn again. “Yes or no. You have or you haven’t.”

  Annoying. Steven could be so annoying. This game had become tedious, his response was curt. “I tell you what. I don’t know what it means to forgive. No. To be honest, I can’t forget what he did. I know he’s trying now. And I … I want to trust him. I’m trying to trust him. But he’s still that person that ran off. I can’t trust him. No matter how hard he’s trying to be a father. I guess, maybe he still has to earn forgiveness.” Another stupid question. What is forgiveness? Forgetting? Letting go? Saying it’s all right? Trusting? What if he leaves tomorrow, next week, next year? What if he cheats on mom again? Just can’t trust him. Guess that means I haven’t forgiven him.

  Steven’s voice became somewhat squeaky but very irritating. “Earn it? You can’t earn forgiveness. You give it because … well, just because. Like Jesus forgives us, not because we deserve it, but because he loves us. We tell him we messed it up to hell and back, then he forgives us and we move on and try to do better. So you should forgive you dad, and move on and let him be your dad.”

  “I’m trying. But what if he screws up again? I’d just hate him all the more.”

  “So what. We’ll all screw up again and again, Joe. That’s life. You got to be ready for it. But when we don’t forgive, we just hurt ourselves. You know, hate hurts us more than it hurts anyone else. Yeah, hating just destroys us and nobody else. So, just forgive him.”

  Enough already. “I am trying to, Steve. But what about you? You can’t tell me you’ve forgiven your dad. After everything he did to you … how he abused you.”

  Steven’s words came out slowly. “I forgave him every time he hurt me. He was always my dad and he did the best he could. He was a sick man, Joe. A sick man. And now he’s gone. Forever.” The last word barely surfaced. Steven then shook his head and said, “But that’s okay. It’s okay Joe, he’s doing good now. He’s good now. I’m tired. You drive. Your turn.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  “Maddie? You with us this morning?”

  Marie’s question jolted Maddie, interrupting her thoughts of home: sleeping in her king-sized bed overflowing with two dozen stuffed animals that never stopped smiling at her; playing the grand piano in their living room, a room full of memories of a life that was once so perfect; eating roast beef dinner with her parents on Sunday; telling them exaggerated stories about her friends and enemies at school. And now she imagined sharing hopes and dreams that her new life, her new birth, now promised. To be home and able to prove that things are different, that she is different, changed, new, reborn. No more pretense. No more spreading toxic waste on those she loves the most. No more trying to prove she was worthless, unlovable. “Sorry. Yeah. What was the question?”

  “There she goes, dreaming again. She’s such a dreamer.” Natalie said and laughed. The other six girls in the group therapy session snickered.

  Marie tilted her head toward Natalie in a disapproving manner. “Nothing wrong with having dreams, Natalie. We all need our dreams.”

  “Not in group. It’s like she doesn’t take this serious.” The fourteen year old snapped back and rolled her eyes.

  Maddie had tried not to hate Natalie, but it was hard. She’s so immature. Such an idiot. I was probably like that when I was … eight. “I take it seriously. I don’t just say what I think they want to hear, like some.” Maddie mimicked Natalie’s expression and rolled her eyes. Damn. Shouldn’t have said that, done that. Reduce myself to her level. She waited for Marie’s rebuke.

  “Okay girls. You’ve been here long enough to know better. Focus on yourselves. Stop the cattiness. Maddie, stay focused. The question is, what is the biggest fear you have, one that would keep you from becoming the person you want to be? Can be?”

  “I don’t know. I have lots of fears.”

  “The biggest one. The one you still need to face … before you go home.”

  “Used to be, that I don’t deserve to … to be loved. But now? Maybe … I’m afraid my parents won’t believe in me, that I’ve changed. But no … ” Maddie looked down at her feet, her stomach twisted; she felt a need to cry. She took a quick breath and gave words to her fear. “I think my biggest fear is that no one will ever love me. That if they know me, what happened to me, the things I’ve done … well, they could never love me.”

  Marie responded with a slight smile – that caring and comfort
ing turn of the lips somehow made Maddie feel safe. “That’s a powerful fear we have when we’ve been abused. How would that fear keep you from being successful when you go home?”

  Maddie glanced at her therapist and shook her head, then fastened her eyes back on her feet. “I don’t know … it’ll … keep me from taking risks. Letting people in. It would keep me from giving people a chance. Keep me from reaching out. Keep me from giving and receiving.”

  Marie nodded. “Yeah. Very good. Think of a situation where you’re gonna need to let someone in, take that chance to be who you are, let them know you.”

  “There’s someone I’ve been pushing away and don’t want to. He’s know everything about me … but I still … I just don’t feel safe.”

  “You still feel you don’t deserve it.” Sandy said. The short, but very confident Black girl from Los Angeles was one of the few girls Maddie felt comfortable with at the ranch.

  “Maybe a little. But not really. It’s more that …”

  “I’m sorry you need to leave.” The booming voice of the program director echoed from the parking lot. The girls turned and looked out the large bay window.

  “Guys. Come on, turn around. Focus. Nothing for us to worry about.” Marie got up and stood in front of the window and with both hands motioned the group to look the other way.

  Daniel, one of the male residents, rushed through the room’s double doors and said, “Marie, there’s a guy’s asking for Maddie.” He looked toward Maddie. “Says he’s your uncle and wants to see you. Said you wrote him a letter and wanted to see him.”

  The room swayed. Maddie grabbed the side of her chair; her head began to swirl. No coherent thoughts, only flashes, ugly images – his body on her, his deep heavy breaths, his groans, the sounds of unwanted and wanted sex. “Maddie! Maddie is that your uncle?” Marie’s voice was a million miles away. “Maddie?” Marie’s hand was on her shoulder.

  “What? I … I don’t know.” She got up and peered through the side of the large bay window; her eyes slowly shifted from the distant snow covered Rockies to the parking lot. She spoke in a staccato monotone, as if trying to convince herself her words were the right ones. “No. That’s not my uncle. I don’t know who that is.”

  The man glanced at the window as the five girls stood staring wide-eyed through the window. Then each turned and fixed their eyes on Maddie; she turned quickly and pushed her back against the wall. Slowly she said, “No. I don’t know him.” She turned, glanced out the window again and saw the stranger salute the director, turn and walk toward his car.

  “Some crazy guy want’n you Maddie. You must a told him you were here. Why’d you do that? That’s so stupid.” Natalie said and pushed Maddie’s left shoulder. She fell back across the arm of a leather couch next to the window.

  “Shut up. This is nothing to do with me! And don’t ever touch me again, Natalie!” Maddie let herself lie on the couch. God everything’s my fault. Stupid idiot. I hate her.

  Without warning, the doors burst open and slammed against the walls. “I need Maddie. Maddie Banister.” All the girls’ eyes glanced Maddie’s way.

  Marie stepped in front of the man. “You can’t be here. You’ll need to leave, sir.” Todd swung his right arm full force and struck Marie on the side of her head. She tumbled across folding chairs circled for the group therapy session. The girls scattered as their high-pitched screams echoed off the vaulted ceiling. Todd looked at Maddie. She curled up on the sofa. He smiled.

  Maddie quickly slid her legs toward the floor and attempted to stand, but her knees buckled and she stumbled back into the plush sofa. She buried her knees in her chest and pushed herself back into the soft leather. “Leave me alone. Who are you? What’d you want? Leave me alone.” As he approached, Maddie thrashed her legs wildly.

  Todd caught her left leg. “None of that. I just need to have a talk with you.” He yanked her off the couch and her back hit the hardwood floor with a loud thud. “Careful now. Just come with me for a minute. You’ll be fine.”

  “Nooo!” Maddie screamed, kicking at his legs and waist.

  Natalie jumped on Todd’s back. He reached around and grabbed her hair and yanked; the small framed girl flew toward the window crashing her head against it. Todd unzipped his jacket, pulled out a Beretta 9mm sub-compact pistol, which at glance looked like a toy gun. He pointed the gun toward Marie who was struggling to get up. The gun cracked, piercing Maddie’s ears. She saw her counselor fall face first onto the floor. Todd spoke with a calm, reassuring tone. “Don’t get up miss, or one of these will surely die.” He pulled the trigger again and sent a bullet over the head of the screaming girls. “Now, I’m not here to hurt anybody. Maddie dear, just come with me and your friends will be just fine. Everything will be just fine.” Todd pointed the pistol toward Natalie. He looked Maddie in the eyes, smiled, nodded and clasped Maddie’s right arm. Maddie pulled her arm back trying to twist it lose. He shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head; and causally aimed the gun at Natalie’s forehead. “Please, don’t make me do this.”

  Maddie’s throat constricted, two words barely surfaced, “No. Don’t.” She nodded. Todd pulled her to her feet. Her body limp, heart beating out of control, stomach heaving – unreal, a nightmare that would suddenly end as all nightmares promise to do. As she stumbled toward the door, a resignation, an acceptance of evil, of fate, encompassed her. Wordless prayers were willed to a God she knew was there, but had always feared this God never really cared much about her. But in that moment, a strange assurance enveloped her; there is a Creator who cares, who knows, who’s here.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  “Never ever seen mountains like this. These are like big, huge. Nothing like the Ozarks, is it? And these roads, noth’n but circles. Hey, you sure we ain’t lost? Damn GPS thingies. I’m … Oh hell. Joe. I’m starting to feel sick.” Steven put his head between his knees as Joe’s truck crested another summit and headed down another winding road toward a sprawling valley.

  “I trust it. Google maps won’t let us down.” Joe glanced at his phone. “Should be a road going off the left just before we get to the bottom of the valley. You okay?”

  “Hell no. Feel like I’m gonna … No. Geez. I’m gonna throw up.”

  Joe whacked Steven on the arm. “Not in my truck. I’ll beat the living snot out of you if you do.”

  “Stop the truck! Let me out! I’ll just walk. I don’t think I like mountains at all.” Steven rolled down the window and stuck his head out.

  “You’ll be alright. Nearly there. See. There, that must be it. Should be just down this road. Look for a sign. There must be a sign.” The truck neared the bottom of a seemingly endless incline. “No signs. Got to be down this one, this road.” Joe turned on narrow path lined by mature pine trees that formed a dark forbidding green canopy, and refused the morning sunlight any time or space.

  Steven’s stomach heaved; newly digested burgers and fries covered the side of the white truck. He coughed and spit glops of food and gunk out of his mouth. Slowly, he pulled his head into the cab and moaned, “I think I’m dying. I’m going pass out. Freak’n hell. I’m gonna die before we even get there. Oh my God! It’s coming again.” Steven stuck his head out the window.

  “You’re not dying. You’re just carsick. You’ll be fine once we stop. Quit moaning. We’re just about there. I think. I hope.” The truck rounded another turn as Steven heaved again. “See. This is it. Not big on signs are they? Look. ‘Rising Sun Ranch. Private Property, no through road.’ We made it.” Joe pulled off the road just before the drive and nestled the truck behind a row of small fern trees “We’ll walk from here.” He jumped out of the truck. “Move your ass already.”

  Steven’s door slowly opened. He eased one leg down to the ground, when his second foot hit the ground, he collapsed. Joe helped him up. Two steps later, he collapsed again. He groaned, “I’ll be dead shortly. Go. Just go. Without me.”

  “Jesus. We don’t have time for this. Com
’on.”

  “I told you, just …” Steven slipped to his knees, threw up, wiped vomit off his lips and said, “Go on already.”

  “Okay. Okay. Stay here. I’ll see what’s going on. Just stay here.”

  Joe hurried across an indistinct path, well hidden by the dense forest. Hope this is right. God, I hope it’s right. Random thoughts began racing through his brain: What am I doing here? This is crazy. Be grounded forever now. Lose my truck. Parents will never forgive this. God, they’ll be sick with worry. Hell, Todd’s probably bluffing. Yeah, wasted trip. God, what am I supposed to do if he is here? Shake my finger at him and tell him to go away. Heck, I’ll just get arrested for trespassing, that’s all that’s gonna happen. She’s probably fine. I’m sure she’s fine. This is just crazy. A distant firecracker-like pop halted intrusive thoughts. His heart felt like a knife plunged deep into its center. Then all thoughts stopped; he started running – dodging trees and jumping over underbrush and fallen limbs.

  A moment later, more firecracker like pops rang out. Oh my God, must be gunshots. Which way? To the left. No right. No left. He stopped and listened. God, which way? Another gunshot. Left. Go left. He made his way, grabbing on to trees and rocks to pull himself up a steep incline. Too late. Too freakin’ late.

  ***

  Maddie felt Todd’s relentless grip digging deep into her wrist as he held her arm behind her back. The cool metal of his revolver pressed into the small of her back as he forced her toward a well-used hiker’s trail on the far side of the parking lot. As they reached the foot of the trail he stopped, fired his gun once aiming it toward the main lodge. Pulling a zip-tie out of his pocket, he yanked Maddie’s left arm downward. “Hold still. Now give me your other arm.” Todd’s words should have been harsh, demanding, crazed; but they were controlled, confident – eerily comforting. “You can trust me.” He squeezed her left arm tighter. Maddie slipped her right arm slowly behind her back. Todd bound her wrist together. “Not too tight I hope.”

 

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