by N. M. Brown
He span in circles, trying to see through the dark. The moon was high in the sky and there were only a few clouds, so he could see the car. He could see the tall trees that dotted the base of the mountain and he could see the faint glow in front of him to the shore. “Da’.” He breathed before scrambling over the rocks towards the lamp light. His feet were bare, and he hadn’t grabbed his coat, so his skin protested against the chill, but the churning in his gut only got worse the closer he got.
He ploughed over the smooth pebbles and ran to the large driftwood trunk that stuck in and out of the water. He could see their little solar powered lamp propped on a larger stone ledge on the other side, but he couldn’t see his Da’. He was about to go out and look when he heard it. The slow, low chuckle from the water’s edge. A woman’s laugh. “… stop…” she flirted.
Crouching low, McQueen crept forward keeping his belly to the ground. McQueen the Detective knew what was about to happen, but he still felt the shock even at the memory. His Da’ was naked, leaning over a woman, her long hair fanned out. In the low light he couldn’t see her face, or her colouring, but he could see she was naked too. She had firm breasts pointing to the sky and her Da’ was sucking on them, just how Shauna did to Ma’. Later McQueen knew why, but at the time he was so confused. “You are so luscious.” He heard his Da’ breath against her skin and she sighed. “I can’t get enough.” He admitted.
“Then stay.” She whispered trailing her fingers through his hair. “Say here with me Glen.” McQueen’s hand clenched around the stone he was holding. How dare she! Da’ was… he was Da’. He loved Ma’ and Shauna and his son; he loved his family. He couldn’t leave. She couldn’t have him!
McQueen was pleased when his Da’ didn’t answer and watched with bated breath for his Da’ to turn this nasty woman away.
Instead his Da’ slid down her body. McQueen wanted it to be because he was leaving. But he didn’t leave, and instead she moaned louder. “Yes Glen...” She smiled throwing back her head, tossing and turning it. But suddenly, when she opened her eyes, she was looking straight at him. McQueen froze in shock as she continued to watch him. His legs burned to move; to run away but he didn’t. He was a deer caught in the headlights, part curious, part startled. The most startling part was her eyes: solid, black and shiny, like two perfect marbles made of glossy ink. He shivered.
“Oh…” His Da’ said drawing her gaze away. “But I would. I would leave today.” McQueen gasped aloud, but his Da’ was too enthralled to notice and the woman already knew he was there. “I would go with you now… really I would,” He leaned down and kissed her, “But my son…” He trailed off as he gazed into her eyes.
“Do you need to go back there?” She pressed and suddenly his Da’ back bowed and a strange looked appeared on his face. “Do you want to?” She whispered.
“No.” his Da’ gasped. McQueen had a moment of glee before it came crashing down. “No, I don’t want to go back there. I want to go with you. I want to be lost with you.”
McQueen wasn’t even aware his feet were moving before he was already up. “No. You’re lying.” He screamed. He stamped his little feet and the pain of the pebbles under foot rocketed up his legs. “Tell her Da’. Tell her you’re lying!”
His Da’ had just looked at him in shock as McQueen threw his tantrum. Detective McQueen couldn’t remember what he had said exactly, but for a six-year-old it probably wasn’t that inventive. While tears blurred his eyes, and his feet stung in the cold, McQueen remembered only two things. The first was the strange woman’s cunning smile. She’d stayed there lying on the pebbled ground, watching him through black, night kissed eyes. McQueen had hated her for that memory. The second was the tight grip his Da’ had when he latched a hand around McQueen’s upper arm and dragged him away.
“Di’ a’ not tell ‘ou to stay in the tent?” He snarled, tugging McQueen away. “What ar’ya boy? Stupid?” McQueen had started to pull back, glaring at the woman who still lounged in the shore line, her toes tickled by the water.
“No. No tell her you’re lying. Tell her you’re coming home.” He screamed but it seemed only the owls were listening. His Da’ practically ripped him off his feet pulling him towards the tent. Yet instead of throwing him inside the canvas tarp, he yanked open the car door and threw him inside. McQueen jumped right back up again and pulled the inside handle trying to get back out. If his Da’ wouldn’t say it, he’d go tell that lady himself. The good for nothing sinner could go away and never come back. But when he got the door half open, it slammed suddenly in his face again. The window smashed against his nose and blood spurted in all directions. McQueen had screamed in pain, his voice echoing in the empty car, but his Da’ didn’t open the door. In fact, McQueen heard the distant sound of the keys turning in the lock. Looking out the window on his knees, McQueen held a hand to his face, blood pouring from his nose and blinked through the tears. His Da’ stood outside the door breathing heavily staring down at him.
“Damn it boy.” He snapped. The keys were still in his hand, but he didn’t look to be opening the doors any time soon. “Why didn’t ya’ just stay in da’ tent?”
“Da?” He asked, his voice muffled by his hand, sticky with blood. “Da?”
Detective McQueen knew now that it wasn’t just glass and metal between them in that moment; that it was deeper than that. McQueen, his small, child body, bloody and crying was a painful reminder to his Da’ of what he didn’t want. His Da’s fears and anger had boiled under his skin because, whatever fantasy he’d created while away from the tent at night, that’s what he wanted. There was no bonding camping trip; no father-son time. Detective McQueen knew his Da’ had never chosen to take him along; that his Ma’ had probably made him.
But at the time, McQueen didn’t understand why his Da’ didn’t open the door and hug him. Why didn’t he tell McQueen sorry and tell him everything would be ok? Why was he shaking his head and backing away? Instead of being his Da’, the unhappy man had turned on the spot and ran back to the shore, his figure quickly lost in the dark.
“Da’” McQueen had screamed against the glass, his breath fogging it up. He had stayed for what felt like days screaming at the glass for his Da’. It was more like hours, but the length of time didn’t matter. He didn’t come back. Eventually, McQueen had fallen asleep. He’d dreamed of water burning his throat as he drowned and seaweed slithering around his legs. He screamed louder but the cloudy water just rushed further down into his lungs. He kicked harder and harder until his fingertips brushed the sweet, open air before he was dragged deep into the dark shadows.
Waking with a start, young McQueen sat up quickly smashing his head on something hard and plastic. Feeling out with his fingertips, he found thick, scratchy carpet, dried mud and a pungent smell of dirt. Blinking heavily, he found himself in the foot well of the car, right where he’d reluctantly fallen asleep. But when he became aware of his surroundings, he was pleased to find the car was moving and he was bouncing where he sat, which meant one thing. His Da was driving and he was fully clothed once more. McQueen had been so happy to see him that he’d just smiled as he moved up into the front seat and slipped on his seatbelt. He hadn’t said anything or asked any questions. In fact, it wasn’t until McQueen the Detective revisited the memories did he see the dark circles of sleeplessness under his father’s eyes and the heavy sag in his shoulders. McQueen the adult, now saw the broken man that had sat beside him in the car, not the returning father.
✽ ✽ ✽
“Wha’ happened?” His Ma had screeched as they came through the door, taking in McQueen's black eyes and wonky nose and the blood that had gone crusty on his chin. McQueen had no idea what he looked like, but he could guess it wasn’t pretty.
“Nothin’. Boys being boys.” His Da’ snapped, pushing past them into the kitchen. His Ma’ just sighed and gripped his chin turning his head side to side inspecting the damage. Shauna sat on her hip with her thumb in her mouth and wild black curl
s stuck up all over her head. She watched McQueen with big green eyes with a hint of brown, just like his Ma’s.
“Well, it an’t broken so that’s good.” She hummed before also shoving him towards the kitchen. “Let’s go put some ice on it.” But as the word left her mouth, the high-pitched wail of the phone went off and Ma had given it a startled look. “Heavens help me.” His mum whispered before smiling at McQueen. “You go ahead dear, I’ll be right there.”
Moving to the kitchen, McQueen had grabbed the step stool to reach the top freezer and the bag of peas. He heard his Da’ rummaging through the box fridge-freezer they kept in the garage while he cussed under his breath. McQueen, even at the tender age of six, said a quick pray for his Da’ telling the Lord that his Da’ didn’t mean to say his name in vain, he was just tired.
And just like that, after their little adventure, life had carried on normally for the most part. McQueen could sense a tension in the air, but as a kid, what did that mean to him… not a lot really. He was just pleased his Da was home. Home with them. Not with the lake woman. All was ok. Looking back, Detective McQueen hoped he’d kept that optimism to the present day, because he knew back then, his life was about to all come crashing down around his ears. Nevertheless, the days had continued in the tiny town for around a week before McQueen realized something was wrong, and it was more of a sucker punch to the teeth than a growing feeling.
He’d come home from school, the bus dropping him outside the church and after a quick kick-around with Sammy - his neighbour- he’d walked through the front door to hear Shauna crying again. Dumping his bag and shoes, he grabbed himself a glass of milk and was surprised when she continued to cry. Normally Ma’ was good at calming her down. But still his sister cried so he went to investigate. Following the trail upstairs, he came upon his parent’s room with the door open. Shauna was sat up on the bed, her frilly blue dress falling from her waist while her cheeks were bright red and her nose snotty.
“Shauna?” He said to the room, padding over and scooping his sister into a hug. Movement out of the corner of his eyes startled him, and he shifted Shauna in his grip, sliding her behind him. But as quickly as he moved, he breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, Ma’.” He started to smile as he saw his Ma’ rise from behind the bed but stopped as she staggered and sniffed her own nose.
Now held, Shauna had quietened down, and McQueen could hear his Ma’s own soft cries. “Oh, my darlin’,” She sniffed, “I di’n’t want you to see me like this.” Straightening out her floral skirt and knitted jumper, she tried to wipe her eyes, as if the tears would suddenly disappear.
“Ma’? What happened?” He asked softly. Looking around the room he saw how the bed was still perfectly made and everything was tidy just how his Ma’ had it… but there was something wrong. Looking back to Ma’ he saw it in her eyes; her pain and grief, so fresh and raw. Eyes darting again, he saw the slightly open wardrobe; Da’s side empty, as well as draws that had been pulled out not quite pushed back in again. Everywhere he looked, there was a slight shift to everything and it was a shift that had sent his Ma spinning for the next two decades.
Detective McQueen thought if he had paid more attention at the time, he might have noticed something was wrong long before that day. He might have looked into his Da’ shouting through the night and the crashes he could hear, rather than just turning over in his bed. He might have noticed the recycling overflowing with beer bottles when there should have been one. Da’ had one a week on a Sunday. He would say; “If God can rest, so can I.” He’d been resting quite a lot that week, but McQueen hadn’t said anything. But as he looked back at his mother’s tear streaked face, he knew now that nothing could have really stopped his Da’. Not him, or his Ma’ or his little sister.
✽ ✽ ✽
Ma’ filed a missing person’s report but the police said that there was evidence that his Da’ had left voluntarily, and there were no signs of him hurting himself or others, so it wouldn’t be a high priority. In short, tough luck. He could hear his Ma’ crying at night and as time went on, she lost more and more weight and looked more and more haggard. One Sunday, after church the Pastor, Father McKinley had spoken privately with his Ma’ while he played with Shauna in the daffodils. Expectantly, Father McKinley wanted to help find Da’ and lead him to the right path again. Ma had admitted it had all changed when Da had started going to the lake, a lake McQueen had been to.
“My boy, look at you; so strapping and strong.” The father had said when he’d called McQueen over. Crouching down to McQueen height, the father gave him a tight smile. “Now your mother tells me you went to a lake with your father. Do you think you could take me back there?” The father had asked in a voice that was so kind you didn’t say no. He wanted to see if this woman could be found and questioned. Even at six McQueen thought it was unlikely, and now a full Detective he found it even less, but still they had gone.
It was raining a slight drizzle when they had arrived after making a number of wrong turns and gotten stuck in multiple mud puddles. “Is this the place my boy?” The Father had asked. McQueen thought the Father looked odd not wearing his black cassock dress with the large cross hanging from his neck. Instead he was wearing jeans and a black shirt with the white dog-collar still showing his faith.
“Yer.” McQueen had mumbled. He was tired. Tired of cackling woman coming to comfort his Ma’ saying nasty things about his Da’. He was tired of all the teachers at school asking if he was alright. But most of all he was tired of Da being gone. He’d come home, he knew he would. He hadn’t stayed with the woman the last time. Why would he go back to her?
The Father kept repeating during the whole car journey that he had faith McQueen’s Da would find them and find God while he was lost. But after hours of looking, even the Father lost hope has they walked up and down the shore line, seeing nothing but pebbles and rotting twigs. McQueen was wet and cold but didn’t want any company, so as the Father began to warm the car up, McQueen kicked stones into the lake. The more he kicked, the harder he kicked them, until his foot felt swollen, his toes throbs and the stones where making it at least five feet out. He hadn’t stop until he’d heard a yelp from the water.
Looking up he saw a splash on the still water’s surface of someone falling under and his heart suddenly raced. “Da’?” He whispered. The Father was still in the car, now making a phone call so he hadn’t seen the ripple. McQueen automatically moved forward, feeling the icy lake water sooth his swollen foot. “Da’?” He asked a little louder, but there was no movement. “Da…?” McQueen sighed.
Looking to his soaked shoes in defeat, he moved to turned away, when he suddenly saw a head bob on the water’s surface. It wasn’t his Da’- far too small – but he was surprised when he saw a seal. A beautiful seal, with glossy grey fur and big, bright black eyes. Yet even though the sweet creature did nothing but watch him from the shallow of the lake, McQueen shuddered and took a step back.
“McQueen my boy.” The Father called causing him to turn away, “Time to go. Your Ma’ is waiting.” And as McQueen turned back round, the seal was gone.
✽ ✽ ✽
“Was it just a seal?” McQueen mumbled to himself back in his dark room looking at the ceiling as he lay on the bed. He raised his head from the pillow and drained the last of his Irish scotch. Very, very rarely did he drink, and very rarely did he have more than a fingers width. Yet he’d drunk at Cardinal House more than he was prepared for. More than he intended to. He snorted loudly. Echo had probably slipped something extra in his drink which made him so drunk. Yer, he thought, blame her, that will make the guilt go away.
Ever since his Da’ left, he told himself he was better than him and he wouldn’t have alcohol unless for a special occasion. And yet here he was, drunk at his room, drinking alone. His fingers clenched harder around the empty glass. No more. Not tonight.
McQueen slumped and felt the world tilt sideways, but eventually it righted itself. Tomorrow he would change his
clothes. Tomorrow he would forget his past and move on swiftly; there was nothing he could do about it now. Tomorrow he would start again.
XXVI
The day didn’t go by quickly as Echo walked back from the Station. Sydney hadn’t shown her face and Echo hoped she wouldn’t ever again. Actually, she hoped she would; kicking her to the curb had felt good, doing it again would feel even better. Walking up the grand driveway to the front door she smiled and basked in her freedom. No chains would fall on her tonight. No one would bind her.
Looking up at the front, with the sun starting to set, the House was a glow in bright orange making it look aflame. This was her home. Her home, not Sydney’s and it was about time she reminded everyone of that. She waved to the two police officers sat in their undercover car in the parking strip to the left of the house as she stepped through the door. Why they thought that ugly red model would go un-noticed in a street that would soon be lined with Ferraris and Porsches, she didn’t understand.
“Guess whose back bitches?” She called out into the hall taking in the clean Drawing room to her left and the Library to her right. But both rooms were empty. It was odd, but then the House wasn’t technically open yet. She couldn’t hear anything from the Grand Hall, so she moved up a floor. Reaching the landing, she walked straight to the Winter Wing and twisted the handle, but a sharp click echoed, and the door wouldn’t budge. She tried the Summer Annex, but again the handle wouldn’t twist. She didn’t even know these doors had a lock. No one was allowed privacy in the House, especially the Annex.