Out of Time

by Beth Flynn

  Damn! She’d wanted to get the story behind that signal Grizz had given Ginny; she just knew there was something to it. But nobody would tell her a thing. Truthfully, she was a little surprised to realize Tommy had never revealed to Ginny that Grizz was his father. In her experience, most people couldn’t keep secrets like that to themselves.

  Leslie didn’t purposely set out to be mean or rude, but she liked having the upper hand in an interview. She probably came across as pushy, but she didn’t care. Especially now—this article was too important to her career. It could be her big chance with a popular, renowned magazine. She had told a white lie when she’d originally approached Ginny about the interview. She didn’t actually work for the magazine in question, but she knew that after submitting this story she would have a shot at it.

  And Leslie had proved to be a good investigator. She knew how to coerce people. How to get them to talk to her. That’s how she got this interview. She did her homework and went to the one person who could influence Ginny to open up. Her daughter, Mimi. Yes, she knew Grizz was Mimi’s father. Leslie was surprised when she realized the fifteen-year old, unbeknownst to her own parents, knew it, too.

  Leslie swiveled back to her computer screen and did some final edits on the article. It would still be a great story, even without the answer to the question she’d asked Ginny. A few more tweaks and then she’d be done, maybe go home and spend a real Sunday with her mom and sister for once. She was the only one in the tiny magazine office today, a small remodeled gas station located off the beaten path. The owners—Don and his wife, Irene, a natural redhead with a bouffant hairdo who always smelled like cotton candy—were rarely around, and Leslie ran the day-to-day operations. In a way it was a good job. But Leslie had grown tired of being in charge. She didn’t care about keeping up with advertisers, subscriptions, payments, any of it. All she wanted to do was write. That’s all she’d ever wanted.

  Less than an hour later, she was putting the finishing touches on her story when she heard the door open. Without looking up from her computer, she said, “Office is closed today. You can come back tomorrow morning. We open at nine.”

  She heard the door shut and didn’t realize the person had closed it from the inside until she heard the creak of the chair right in front of her desk. She turned to look and almost gasped.

  It was Keith Dillon. Gang name: Blue.

  Blue was one of the gang members who hadn’t gotten the immunity some of the others had. He was too high up in Grizz’s organization for that. Blue had gone to prison with Grizz and a few others. Got a lousy ten years and was out in two.

  Blue had visited Leslie a week or so after Grizz had attacked her in the prison interview room, right after Grizz gave her the phone interview. Right before the execution. She’d known Grizz did it out of anger and she’d had to swallow her pride after the beating, eat a little crow when she talked to him, but her instincts had been accurate. She knew she’d angered Grizz enough in that first meeting that he just might give her something.

  Boy, did he. When he told her during the call that Grunt—Tommy—was his son, Leslie had almost dropped the phone. He wouldn’t answer any other questions. She’d wanted to get more details, like whether Grunt knew and, if so, for how long. He wouldn’t give her anything else.

  The first encounter with Blue was when Leslie had just come out of the grocery store and was putting bags in the trunk of her car. The sun was hot and she felt a trickle of sweat make its way down the center of her chest. She had allowed her pain medication to wear off so she could drive herself to the market. The heat and renewed pain were making her woozy, but she was still feeling a little high, too. She knew the secret Grizz revealed was going to make her article. Make her career.

  She didn’t know where Blue had come from, didn’t see or hear him approach her car. He was just there, standing silently with his arms crossed. He didn’t ask her not to print the secret. He demanded it.

  “Grizz changed his mind.” Blue looked her up and down. “Don’t print whatever it was he told you during the phone interview.”

  Leslie just stared at him. She knew who he was, but he didn’t incite the same sense of fear that Grizz did. So instead she took her cart back to the return, left him standing behind her car. Like an afterthought, she called out over her shoulder, “You don’t even know what it is, do you?”

  He didn’t answer.

  She stashed the buggy and strode back toward him. “The big secret. You don’t know it, do you?” she asked a little too smugly.

  Blue waited for her to return. “Doesn’t matter. Don’t print it. This is just a courtesy call. You don’t want to be seeing me again.”

  He turned around and walked away.

  Now, two days after Grizz’s execution, Blue was back. He sat in the chair and looked at her. Didn’t say a word. She wouldn’t allow herself to be intimidated. A quick stab of terror at the memory of Grizz’s brutality jolted her, but she quickly replaced it with confidence. That bastard was dead. She was safe. She wouldn’t let Blue get the upper hand.

  Blue gazed around the room, taking in the fake leather sofa, the framed poster art on the walls, the cheap paneling. “Wow, this must be the white trash satellite office for your big magazine.” A laugh escaped his lips.

  She stiffened. “I didn’t say I worked for them. I just said—”

  “I already knew that. So did Grizz. That’s not why I’m here.” Before she could comment, he asked, “So, it’s not getting printed. Right?”

  “What does it matter now, anyway?” She shrugged with a little more confidence than she actually felt. “He’s dead. Besides, I didn’t use any real names. That was part of the deal I made with Ginny. Who’s going to care?”

  “I care. You took it out of the article, correct?”

  “What if I didn’t? What if it gets printed? What’s going to happen?” She gave him a fierce look. “You’re going to slash my tires? Beat me up?”

  Blue stared coldly. “It’s obvious you want to play games here. So the rules have changed. Now there will be no article.”

  Leslie sat back in her chair, sighing. She tilted her head to one side as she looked at him, trying to determine her response. Truth be told, she didn’t want to get the shit beat out of her again. Okay, so maybe she wouldn’t print the secret. Not this time, anyway. But she would certainly hold on to the information and use it when needed. It was obviously important. She would try calling the Dillon’s again. The Dillon’s? Ha! They weren’t really the Dillon’s. They were the Talbot’s—if that was even Grizz’s real last name. She wanted—needed—to ask about the signal, the nod. She would get them to tell her. She would get what she wanted, eventually. She always did.

  “Okay,” she relented finally. “The secret won’t come out in my article.”

  He leaned forward, his words like ice. “It’s too late. You shouldn’t have fucked with me just now. There will be no article. You’d better erase its existence right now. If I even think you have a copy of it anywhere, or that it might show up someday—”

  “What? You’ll do what?” She glared at him. She was getting angry and more than a little tired of being bullied. “I already know what it feels like to swallow my own teeth. It’s not great, but if that’s what it takes, I’ll do it. I’ll handle whatever it is you think you can do to me. You know why? Because my future is at stake here. My career. My chance to get out of this crappy little rat-hole of a job and make something of myself. So you know what, Blue?” Her eyes blazed. “You can just deal with it. I won’t print that Grizz is Tommy’s father, but that article is getting submitted.”

  She sat back in her chair and took a deep, triumphant breath. She was shaking, but not with fear. She was mad.

  As if on cue, her telephone rang. It was Sunday; the answering machine could pick it up. Irene’s sweet voice filled the tense air between them. “Thank you for calling the Loving Lauderdale office. Our hours are Monday through Friday, nine to five. Leave a message and yo
ur call will be returned promptly. Thank you and have a great day!”

  Just then a woman’s frantic voice could be heard over the answering machine. “Leslie! Leslie! Oh God. Leslie, please be there! Please answer. If you’re there, pick up. Please!”

  It was her mother’s voice. Leslie looked at Blue and was instantly filled with unease. As she reached for the phone, her mother’s panicked cries continued.

  “I don’t know what to do! Please call as soon as you get this.” She choked back a sob. “It’s Hannah. Your little sister is missing!”

  Leslie picked up the phone. “Mom, I’m here. Calm down. Calm down and tell me what happened.”

  She listened intently as she stared into Blue’s cold eyes. He got up and quickly walked out the door.

  Leslie dropped the phone, the receiver landing with a loud thud on her desk. She could hear her mother’s voice fading as she ran out after him, as he strode toward an idling sedan. She put her hand to her brow to dim the sunlight. The glare was blinding. Was that a woman in the passenger’s seat?

  Blue had started to climb into the driver’s side when Leslie finally screamed after him, “You win! Okay? You win!”

  Blue nodded at her and got in the car. It sped off.

  Leslie stood there a moment, paralyzed with unmistakable fear. Funny—she remembered thinking when he’d first confronted her in the grocery store parking lot that he didn’t incite the same sense of fear that Grizz did.

  She was wrong.

  Leslie didn’t bother trying to get a license plate. She didn’t bother trying to get a better look at the woman. It didn’t matter.

  What she’d said was true. He’d won. That bastard was dead and he’d still won.

  Tears rolled down both cheeks as she went back inside to comfort her mother and delete her file.

  Chapter Three

  2000

  Tommy hadn’t moved from his spot in the den. He was still in shock over how his life had taken a detour in less than five minutes.

  Hell, he wished it was a detour. This was more like a complete U-turn.

  He understood why Ginny was upset. Of course she was. But he never expected the anger and hatred he’d seen on her face. She was devastated.

  He couldn’t blame her. They’d had such a good marriage and he couldn’t bring himself to believe that this could ruin it. He’d never even gotten to tell her that he didn’t always know about being Grizz’s son. He just didn’t see how it could matter so much now. He hadn’t thought it was something Ginny had needed to know. It wasn’t something anybody needed to know. Damn Grizz for telling Leslie out of anger. He swiped his hand through his hair and sighed. This wasn’t part of the plan. This fucked everything up.

  “Fuck you, Grizz. You said you had Leslie handled,” he said to no one. “You were locked up in jail for fifteen fucking years. Then I watched you die two days ago. Yet all along you still found a way to screw with me. I thought we settled things. I thought this was over. Son-of-a-bitch!”

  He leaned back and allowed his mind to drift. Memories invaded his senses. His hands tightened into fists as he thought about the abuse he endured as a child. He couldn’t stop the thoughts from coming. When he’d left that life behind, he thought no one would ever screw with him again. Especially not Grizz.

  But he was wrong. Grizz had screwed with him worse than any of them. Grizz, even beyond the grave, had messed with the one thing that mattered most.

  He could almost smell the rotting garbage and cat urine in Karen and Nate’s house. The sour sponge that Karen made him use to wash the dishes. The stale cigarettes and weed. His own rancid, neglected body. He could feel the constant itch of his lice-infested scalp.

  He subconsciously rubbed his arms as he recalled the painful blisters. The broken bones.

  His mind drifted back to a time he wished he could forget. He couldn’t stop the flood of memories.

  He remembered what it was like living in hell.

  Chapter Four

  1969

  Tommy watched from the shadows of the hallway. He had woken up thirsty, was going to sneak into the bathroom to drink from the faucet. But the big man was there. He was bringing Karen money again.

  He had seen the big man before. He was scary looking. Tommy didn’t know why he gave Karen money. He never got close enough to hear their conversations. But he could hear them tonight.

  “Is he okay? Got everything he needs?” the big man asked.

  “Yes, of course he has everything he needs. Why wouldn’t he?” Karen took a long draw on her cigarette and tapped her ashes into an open beer can.

  The big man walked to the refrigerator and looked inside. “Because there’s nothing but beer in your fridge and this place is a shithole.”

  Now the big man was pacing the room, opening cabinets and drawers. Tommy realized he’d never seen him inside the house before. He’d watched from a window as Karen or Nate would meet the big man outside. They could always hear him coming, heard his motorcycle when it rounded the corner a few houses away. But tonight there had been no warning. Guess he didn’t ride it tonight.

  “What? Are you saying I don’t feed him?” Karen started to add something, but before she could, the big man grabbed her by the throat and lifted her off the kitchen chair. She dropped both her cigarette and her haughty attitude. Tommy had never seen her afraid before tonight.

  “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to, bitch? Are you taking care of the kid like you’re supposed to?”

  The kid? Tommy’s thoughts kicked into high gear. The big man was there for him! He was giving Karen money to take care of him. Why? Did he care about Tommy? He must have cared a little. But why would he? And why would he give money to people who neglected and abused him?

  Tommy was young, but not stupid. If he was ever going to get out of there, now might just be his chance. Even foster care was better than this nightmare. The big man could help him or leave him with Karen and Nate. The way Tommy saw it, the worst that could happen was that Karen would beat him after the man left. Maybe Nate would, too, when he got home from work. Tommy didn’t have to think long. He’d take his chances. Quickly, he tore off his filthy, ripped T-shirt and tossed it on the ground. He moved quietly from the shadows of the hall to the rundown kitchen.

  “Karen, I’m thirsty,” Tommy said, rubbing his eyes. “Can I have something to drink?”

  He saw instant regret flash in Karen’s eyes and knew he’d been right to make himself known to the big man.

  Karen looked at Tommy, then at the big man, who was staring openly at the battered boy.

  “I don’t hit on the kid! It’s Nate—Nate does it. Ju-just when he needs discipline.”

  “And I suppose Nate, who doesn’t smoke, uses your cigarettes to burn him?” The big man lashed back without taking his eyes off Tommy.

  “Uh, yeah,” she stammered. “When he needs it.”

  His eyes still fixed on Tommy, the man reached behind him and pulled out a gun. Without a word, the big man turned toward Karen and put a bullet between her eyes. Tommy heard a gasp and saw Nate, frozen in fear by the front door. Nate spun around to flee, but he wasn’t quick enough. The big man nailed Nate in the back of the head.

  Then the big man tucked the gun away and looked at Tommy.

  “You don’t need to be afraid of me,” the big man said in a gentle voice. “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of from now on.”

  “I’m not afraid of you,” the little boy replied.

  The big man nodded. “Anything here you want to take? Grab it now, because you won’t be coming back.”

  Tommy ran to his room. He put on his tattered and stained T-shirt and slipped his feet into sneakers with no laces. He went to his bottom dresser drawer and slowly pulled it out. He reached in and retrieved a small box. It contained his most prized possessions. His only connections to her. He returned the drawer to its place and slowly scanned the room. No, there was nothing else there. He returned to the living room.

/>   “I’m ready.”

  Tommy was surprised when the big man took off his jacket and wrapped it around him, then effortlessly scooped him up and walked outside to an old pickup truck. They didn’t speak as they drove off.

  After twenty minutes they pulled into a little bar called The Red Crab and parked close to the door, which was propped open. The big man told him to wait in the truck as he went inside. Tommy sat as quietly as possible, strained to hear. He chanced a glance inside the door, saw the man go to the phone by the cash register and dial a number.

  “I’m gonna need a dark clean up at a house in San Carlos Estates.” After rattling off an address, he hung up the phone and turned to the bartender. “Mike, call Blue at Sissy’s and tell him to get his ass over here now. Tell him not to bring his bike and to come alone.”

  “Sure thing, Grizz.”

  “I’m gonna need your truck a little longer.”

  “No problem, man,” the bartender said and picked up the phone.

  Grizz went outside and climbed back into the old pickup truck. He looked at Tommy.

  “They’ve been hurting you.” It was a statement, not a question.

  Tommy nodded as he looked at his hands resting in his lap.

  “They been feeding you?”

  Tommy shook his head.

  “You hungry now?”

  Tommy looked at the big man. “Yeah, I’m really hungry.” After a brief pause, “Who are you?”

  “Are a burger and fries okay?”

  “Yes, please. And can I have ketchup and a drink?”

  “Yeah. Stay here.”

  Grizz went back inside and Tommy could hear him order a burger with fries and a soda. He told Mike he’d be back in ten minutes.

  “I’m sitting in your truck. Don’t bring the food out to me. I’ll be back.”

  “Yeah, whatever you say, Grizz.”

  Grizz went back to the truck. He looked at Tommy while Tommy continued to stare into his lap. He wasn’t sure how much he should tell the little boy. He’d only found out about him a few months ago.