The Changing Season

by Manchester, Steven;

  “What?” Billy’s dad screeched, already shaking his head. “How much to put the dog down?” he asked.

  Everything in Billy’s body seized up at the mention of killing Jimmy. “No!” Billy screamed.

  “But he’s suffering, son,” the old man said, going to one knee to look Billy in his tear-filled eyes.

  Panicked, Billy looked to the vet. “Sir, if you operate, can you fix him?”

  The doctor nodded. “I’m pretty sure we can.”

  His dad opened his mouth to say something else, but didn’t.

  “Please, Dad…please,” Billy begged. “I’ll never ask for another thing again…ever!”

  “Billy, we can’t afford it.”

  “You never have to buy me another Christmas present or birthday gift. I’ll even get a job and pay you back,” Billy pleaded between sobs.

  Still, the big man shook his head.

  Billy’s mom grabbed his dad’s arm and whispered, “Norman, I don’t think we can afford not to…”

  The old man took a deep breath and was clearly thinking it over, which took a lifetime. He stood and looked at the vet. “Twelve hundred is extortion,” he barked, “but go ahead and do it.”

  The vet nodded.

  “But you’d better save the mutt,” the big man warned; it was as close to a threat as Billy had ever heard from his father’s mouth.

  Overwhelmed with emotions he’d never felt or could even begin to define, Billy felt like he was going to collapse. He looked into his father’s eyes; locked onto them for a moment. No matter what his father did or said in the future, regardless of what might come, Billy’s love for his dad was sealed for all time.

  ⁕

  Billy emerged from the vivid memory and looked at Vicki. “I later found out that my father put in two months of overtime to cover the vet bill.” He smiled. “And I promised myself I’d never forget what he did for me…and Jimmy.”

  “Wow,” she said, “he sounds like a great man.”

  “He’s had his moments,” Billy said and left it at that.

  They sat in silence for a while. As Billy sprawled out on the blanket, he scanned the park. It was the very place that he, Charlie and Mark had claimed as their own when they were children—just a few years back. Now, he was acting all grown up, sipping iced tea and eating a sandwich, watching the kids run and scream and laugh and play. He looked at Vicki and felt both elated and peaceful. The sun was going down, casting a soft glow across her face and hair. She looks like an angel, he thought. And I’m the luckiest guy on earth.

  Neither was in any hurry to leave. They lay back and watched as family after family packed up and went home for the night. Soon, they were alone in the fading light.

  They kissed, passionately, Billy pressing his body against hers until he could not only feel her body heat but the thump of her excited heartbeat. He kissed her lips, her cheeks, her neck and her ears—soliciting a giggle. He lingered there a moment. She pulled him in tighter. After running his hand down her body, he let it rest between her legs. Vicki automatically flinched, pulling away from him. “What is it, Vicki?” he asked, immediately withdrawing his hand.

  She sat up on the blanket, struggling to catch her breath.

  “Are you okay, babe?” he asked. “I…I didn’t mean to…”

  She turned and grabbed his hand. “It’s not you, Billy. Trust me. It’s just an old trauma that I have to get past.”

  Billy swallowed hard. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand but…”

  Vicki shook her head. “I…I was young,” she blurted, “maybe seven, when my Uncle Buddy touched me between my legs.”

  Oh no, Billy thought. “Did you tell your parents?”

  Vicki nodded. “I did,” she admitted, still fighting to keep the ancient monster behind the door, “but they pretty much brushed the whole thing under the carpet.”

  Billy gently placed his hand on her arm. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

  She shook her head. As she tried to breathe, her hands began to tremble and her eyes slammed shut. The first few tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “If it’s too difficult, Vicki,” Billy said, “you don’t need to…”

  She opened her eyes. “But I do,” she whispered. After taking a few deep breaths, she closed her eyes again and commanded every ounce of her strength and courage to go back to a time and place she’d obviously spent her entire life avoiding.

  ⁕

  Dad wasn’t around, as usual, probably working out on the road, she surmised. Mom was also out, which was unusual…I think at some wake or funeral, she tried to recall.

  Uncle Buddy had made her and Barry mac and cheese, their favorite dinner, and had them put on their pajamas. He’d let them stay up a little later—past their bedtimes—to finish the movie, The Lion King. He put Barry to bed first and returned to the couch. “Do you want to watch something else, maybe another movie?” he asked her.

  Vicki shrugged. She wanted to, of course, but knew her mother wouldn’t approve.

  “No one has to know but you and me,” Uncle Buddy said, smiling. He patted the seat beside him on the couch. “Come snuggle with me,” he whispered.

  Vicki thought it was strange—something feels wrong, she thought—but it was her uncle. She took the seat beside him. The animated movie, which Vicki could no longer recall, was only a few minutes in when Uncle Buddy placed his hand on her knee. She remembered her body locking up, freezing in place. Something is wrong, she confirmed in her racing mind, while fear filled her small body.

  “You look just like your mom,” Uncle Buddy whispered, “…very pretty.”

  Vicki opened her mouth to reply when he slid his hand down her leg and rested it on her crotch, on her privates. As if she were spring loaded, she jumped up. “I need to go to bed,” she whimpered, the first few tears already breaking free.

  “Whoa, whoa,” he said. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? I didn’t mean to…” He stood.

  Vicki bolted down the hallway as fast as she could run, slamming her bedroom door behind her and locking it.

  “Vicki, don’t be silly. My hand slipped.” He tried to turn the doorknob.

  She froze again, terrified. She tried to scream but it got stuck in her throat. She felt like she was choking, as panic attacked her from within. She could hear his large hand on the door again.

  “Open the door now!” Uncle Buddy said more firmly.

  He’s getting angry, Vicki thought but remained frozen in place.

  “You’re being foolish and your mom and dad aren’t going to like it.”

  Her body was paralyzed; even if she’d wanted to unlock the door, she was physically incapable. She couldn’t breathe right and felt dizzy.

  Uncle Buddy pounded on the door one last time before stomping back down the hallway.

  Vicki suddenly felt relieved, until she remembered Barry was alone in the room next to hers. His door’s unlocked, she realized and tried to stand; the terror in her battled against her need to protect her little brother. She couldn’t stand. Instead, she rolled herself into the fetal position and wept mournfully. I can’t help Barry, she knew, unsure whether Uncle Buddy would do the same to him. In an instant, she was filled with more guilt than her young mind could handle.

  It could have been minutes or hours—Vicki couldn’t tell which in her hellish state—when there was another knock on her bedroom door. “Go away,” she shrieked, surprised that she’d finally gotten the words out.

  “Vicki, it’s Mommy. Open the door, baby girl.”

  Bursting into tears, Vicki struggled to her feet to unlock the door.

  Her mom rushed in. “What’s the matter, babe? What happened?” She looked down at the floor, drawing Vicki’s attention to a puddle of urine she didn’t even realize she’d been sitting in. Her mom fell to her knees, pulling
Vicki in for a hug. “You’re okay now.” She looked into her eyes. “Tell me, baby. Tell Mommy what happened?”

  “Is Barry all right?” Vicki asked in a squeak.

  “He’s fine. He’s fast asleep.”

  A few heavy pounds slid from Vicki’s tiny shoulders. She then told every detail.

  Vicki’s mom scooped her up into her arms and carried her to the bathroom where she bathed and clothed her. “You can sleep in my bed tonight,” she said. “We’ll snuggle.”

  Vicki’s body convulsed.

  “You don’t want to?” the woman asked.

  Vicki shook her head. “I do, Mom. It’s just that…that’s what Uncle Buddy told me he wanted to do.” She broke down in sobs again.

  Her mom’s face turned crimson red. She comforted Vicki before depositing her into the big bed. “I just have to call Daddy,” she said, “and tell him…”

  “No, Mom. Don’t tell Daddy,” Vicki pleaded.

  “Oh sweetheart, you didn’t do anything wrong. And Daddy needs to know.”

  Vicki tiptoed to the bedroom door and eavesdropped while her mom screamed into the phone. “I know the piece of shit’s your brother, but either you do something about it or I’m calling the cops!”

  Her mom returned to bed and they held each other close through the night. Vicki might have even been able to sleep had she not felt riddled with guilt for not being able to protect her little brother, Barry—a secret she decided to keep to herself.

  ⁕

  Vicki awoke from the old nightmare and looked at Billy. “We never saw Uncle Buddy again,” she said. “And no one ever talked about the incident again either,” she added, painfully.

  “What happened to your asshole uncle?” Billy asked, immediately sorry that he did.

  Vicki took a deep breath. “From what I was told, my dad confronted him and don’t you know…the piece of garbage denied it. He never came around again after that. I overheard that Dad beat him up pretty badly, though no one talked about it.” She looked over at Billy and shook her head, her eyes filling with old tears. “And we never attended Uncle Buddy’s funeral when he died from cancer.”

  Billy hugged Vicki tightly; there was nothing sexual about it—just a hug that showed his undying support.

  Vicki wiped her eyes and gazed at Billy. “I’ve never told anyone this story,” she whispered. “Not a soul.”

  Billy squeezed her tighter, realizing just how important this moment was for them, understanding that a deep trust was being forged between them. Conflicting feelings churned inside him; he felt so sorry for the pain she’d endured in her past, but he was equally delighted that she felt close enough to him to share it. And I feel the exact same way about her, he thought.

  “Just be patient with me, okay?” Vicki whispered. She took a deep breath. “I love you very much and I promise I’ll come around, but please be patient with me.”

  Billy gently kissed her cheek. “Of course,” he whispered. “There’s no hurry for anything. We’ll take it as slow as we need to take it.” He stared at his brave girlfriend and vowed, I’m going to do whatever it takes to be there for you and I’ll wait however long it takes. “I love you so much, Vicki,” he added, “and I’m not going anywhere… unless you’re coming with me.”

  While more tears poured from her eyes, she hugged him. “I love you too,” she whispered, “more than you’ll ever know.”

  I know, Billy thought, feeling them grow as close as two people had ever been.

  ⁕

  Even at the animal shelter—working hard enough to sweat—Billy was drifting along in a state of joy and wonder. Jimmy, on the other hand, chose to sulk in the yard. Just as Billy completed the morning feeding and was starting to mop the floors, Arlene returned from the road where she’d found a homeless family—a stray mutt, named Macy, and her pups—living between two dumpsters.

  “She must have foraged for garbage and probably hunted small animals to feed her young,” she told Billy. “From the look of her, she’s lived a pretty rough life.”

  Billy could hear the empathy and understanding dripping from Arlene’s words and suddenly recognized he felt the same. Poor thing, he thought, while Vicki’s face immediately vanished from his thoughts.

  “We’ll keep the family together,” Arlene added. “Can you imagine being split up from your family and put into separate cages?”

  “God, no,” he said, feeling angry over the thought of it.

  Arlene reached out to touch one of the puppies.

  Macy lunged at her hand like it was a honey ham at Easter dinner.

  Arlene retreated just in time to save herself an emergency room visit and a half dozen stitches.

  Teeth bared, tail straight back, Macy looked mean and nasty—displaying how fiercely protective she was of her young.

  “I’d be aggressive too,” Arlene said calmly, after nearly getting her fingers bitten off.

  Her hackles raised, Macy growled, snarled and bared her teeth—issuing all the warning signs.

  “We just have to win over Macy’s trust,” Arlene told Billy.

  “How long do you think it’ll take?” he asked, feeling discomfort in his soul over the unfortunate animal’s predicament.

  She looked at him sadly. “You’ll be a real college boy long before she comes all the way around.”

  Billy nodded. Well, that sucks, he thought, continuing to feel the physical price of true empathy.

  That afternoon, the vet inoculated each of the pups with Macy’s suspicious gaze supervising from a leashed position. “See, we’re just helping your babies,” Arlene told Macy, talking to the barking dog each time one of her pups was picked up and handled.

  Macy’s growls and snarls were eventually reduced to quiet whimpers and whines. When the pups were all treated, Arlene put the entire family into one cage—without being attacked—and watched as Macy gave each one of them a thorough bath.

  Arlene turned to Billy. “You know, she might come around earlier than I thought.”

  “I hope so,” he said.

  Just before the end of the shift, Billy stuck his head into Arlene’s office. She was seated behind a cluttered desk, shaking her frustrated head. She looked up. “Please don’t tell me any of the animals have escaped,” she joked. “I’m at capacity and I don’t think I can take another crisis right now.”

  Billy laughed. “No, they’re all fine, Arlene.” He nodded. “Fed, clean and happy. Most of them are out in the yard playing.” He shrugged slightly. “I…I was wondering whether I could get your advice on something?”

  Arlene immediately dropped the handful of papers onto her desk and sat up straight, offering her full attention. “Step into my confessional,” she teased, gesturing for Billy to take a seat across from her, “and tell me what’s going on.”

  Billy was talking before his back end hit the seat. “I have a friend, he’s actually my best friend, who screwed up really badly at the start of the summer.”

  “How badly?”

  “The worst,” Billy whispered, swallowing hard, “and I’ve tried everything to get him to confess and make things right, but…”

  “But he won’t,” Arlene said, finishing the sentence.

  “That’s right,” he said, shaking his head. “The problem is…when the truth finally comes out, it’s going to hurt someone I care about.” His eyes filled and he could suddenly feel every ounce of the heavy weight he’d been carrying around. “It’s going to crush her,” he whispered.

  Shaking her head, Arlene locked onto his eyes. “You say this is your best friend?”

  “We grew up together like brothers,” Billy explained.

  “Let me give you a piece of advice that your best friend may not want to hear but needs to.”

  Billy nodded.

  “I’ve been on this earth for more years than I care
to admit. Trust me, the truth always comes out.” She smirked. “And justice is karma’s twin sister. They’re both bitches when you keep ’em waiting.”

  Billy exhaled deeply, making his lips quiver.

  “The longer it takes for this truth to come out, the more painful the consequences will be,” she added. “Good or bad, it’s just how things work.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of,” Billy said, picturing Vicki’s sweet face contorted in pain over the real reason for her cousin’s death.

  “You need to tell your friend he’s being selfish and that he’s hurting people by withholding the truth.”

  “I have,” Billy said, “believe me, I have.” He nodded. “But I’ll keep trying. Thanks, Arlene.” He turned to leave.

  “Billy?” Arlene called out.

  He stopped, facing her again. “Yeah?”

  “Would your best friend happen to be you? Are you the one who needs to confess to somebody?”

  “No, it’s my buddy who screwed up,” he said, sorrowfully, “though at this point, I feel just as guilty for it.”

  Billy and Jimmy walked out of the animal shelter together to find a dark, unmarked cruiser parked alongside the Honda. Oh no, Billy thought. He was a few feet from his car when a massive man with a shiny scalp exited the cruiser and approached him. “Name’s Detective Swanson,” he introduced himself, discarding the toothpick that dangled from his lips. “And you’re Billy Baker, am I right?”

  Billy nodded, thinking, I’m so screwed. I should have just left the car home and gotten a ride to work. He could tell right away that Detective Swanson had been waiting for him; his heart began pounding in his chest.

  Jimmy studied the man, without any reaction one way or another.

  “I adopted a dog from this place a few years back,” the older cop said with a smile.

  “We did too,” Billy said confused, patting Jimmy on the head.

  “Have you seen Charlie Philips?” Swanson asked, putting an abrupt end to the small talk and kicking off an obvious interview.