The Changing Season

by Manchester, Steven;

  Without a word, Charlie hung up.

  Billy fired his cell phone onto the passenger seat, listening to it skip across Vicki’s opened letter and crash into the passenger side door. “You son of a bitch!” he screamed. “You’re going to ruin everything, Charlie.”

  As he drove home, Billy’s mind spun in circles about what he should do. Each firing synapsis led to the same place. I can’t give Charlie up, he confirmed. I just can’t. He looked sideways at his girlfriend’s perfumed letter. “I’m sorry, Vicki,” he said, as a pair of guilty tears threatened to roll down his crimson cheeks.

  Chapter 13

  While Charlie’s shroud of darkness continued to hover over Billy, he was grateful it was so busy at the shelter. Arlene returned from the court with an abused dog named Peaches—a pit bull mix. Disgusted, she told Billy, “As her features are primarily pit bull, her thug owner tried to train her to fight other dogs. But the other blood in her wouldn’t allow it; it went against her gentle spirit.” She put her hand into the carrier to touch Peaches’ left flank. The dog immediately cowered into the corner of the large carrier. “So the half-witted gangster tied her up with a heavy tow chain and nearly starved the poor animal to death.” Arlene’s eyes filled. “Even when he physically beat her, she wouldn’t fight. The only thing the man’s abuse accomplished was to make her fearful and untrusting toward all of us.” She put her hand back into the cage and left it there for Peaches to sniff.

  “Poor thing,” Billy said, at a loss for more meaningful words but feeling the weight just the same.

  With determination burning in her eyes, Arlene nodded. “That’s okay,” she said. “I’m going to work with Peaches for as long as it takes and give her a fresh start.” She peered into the cage for a moment. “And from now on, her name’s Sadie,” she announced.

  Billy nodded. “Sadie it is,” he said, sharing Arlene’s anger.

  Arlene shook her head again, her mind still fuming. “I can’t wait to testify in court against the piece of crap who abused Sadie. I can’t wait to put the real animal in a cage where he belongs.”

  Billy immediately thought about Charlie’s inevitable future and his eyes filled.

  Arlene caught it and nodded. “I know how you feel,” she said. “It breaks my heart.”

  No, you don’t know how I feel, Billy thought and considered confiding in his mentor about Charlie’s dismal secret, as well as the possible ramifications with Vicki. But for what? he decided, already knowing what Arlene would say, already knowing that Vicki’s response was going to be devastating when she finally found out. His eyes filled more. “It breaks my heart too,” he mumbled.

  ⁕

  After lunch, Arlene and Billy were working together taking inventory when they heard the angry barks and painful yelps of two dogs fighting.

  “Damn it,” Arlene said, handing Billy one of the long poles with looped rope attached to the end. Billy knew the poles were only used on dogs that acted out and were violent toward their peers, but he’d never used one. “Just follow my lead,” Arlene said, as they ran for the yard.

  Major, a German shepherd that had recently been saved from the streets, was locked in mortal combat with Gus, an even tempered husky-mix. “Damn it,” Arlene repeated. Major was clearly getting the best of his bleeding opponent.

  Billy watched as Arlene responded to the dangerous situation swiftly and firmly but also with great care. While she draped the rope around Major’s neck and instructed Billy to do the same from the other side, the dog continued to snap his jaws, losing his mind to sink his sharp teeth into flesh—canine or human.

  “Easy, boy,” Arlene told Major, “easy now.”

  Slowly, she and Billy walked the aggressive dog into the building. Isolation and containment, Billy figured. He was right. As Major snarled and bared his teeth, he was escorted into the time-out cage. Billy turned to leave when he noticed that his mentor was staying behind.

  Arlene took a seat outside the inmate’s new cage and talked calmly to Major while he growled and frothed at the mouth. “It’s okay, my love,” she just kept telling the incensed dog in a loving and maternally soothing voice.

  The crazed dog spun in circles, jumping up on the cage door and snapping his sharp teeth.

  Billy watched her for a few moments before questioning it. “What are you doing, Arlene?”

  She looked up at him and smiled. “Major’s scared,” she said, “and rather than bow to the fear, he’s lashing out.” She nodded. “Think about it. We have no idea where he’s come from… what he’s been through.” She shrugged. “He could be a stray that’s had a hard life, or he could have been abused and no longer trusts humans.” She grinned. “And who could blame him for that?”

  Billy laughed. “It’s true,” he said. “The more I learn about dogs, the less I like humans.”

  She nodded in agreement and looked back at Major. “This bad boy just needs to know he’s safe here; that he’s loved and no one’s going to hurt him.” She shrugged again. “Besides, it was my fault.” She winked at Major. “Isn’t that right, my love?”

  The irate dog continued to snap at the steel mesh, trying desperately to get to Arlene.

  “And how’s that?” Billy asked.

  “I should never have let him out in the yard with the others without getting to know him better,” she said. “Can you please go check on Gus and tell him I apologize.”

  Billy nodded, still trying to process the lunacy.

  “And if Gus needs medical care, call the vet and get it set up.”

  “I’m on it,” Billy said.

  ⁕

  It was just past dusk when Charlie drove two towns over—to the Noble residence in Berkley—hoping against all hope that Dalton’s parents were anywhere but home. It was a raised ranch with an American flag blowing in the wind—typical middle class. Please don’t be here, he thought, creeping along, please. But an ordinary mid-sized Buick was sitting in the driveway. Charlie slowed his car to a stop, almost directly across the street from the house. The living room light was on, as well as the intermittent flicker thrown off by a television. He threw the shifter into park, turned his body sideways and watched—struggling for each breath. Two faceless silhouettes sat on opposite ends of the couch, staring straight ahead—motionless and devoid of life. A pair of tears raced down Charlie’s cheeks. “Oh God,” he whimpered, “what did I do to you…to your family?” Although he could not see their faces, somehow he could feel all their pain. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed, “I’m so sorry for what I did.” But he knew it was not enough. The house felt shrouded in darkness and despair, a nightmare created by his hand. “I wish it were me who’d crashed and died that night,” he told the two shadows. “I wish it were me and not your son!” The statues remained still, as if ignoring his plea for forgiveness. He cried and convulsed so hard that his chest began to hurt. As he pulled away from the curb, the larger of the two silhouettes walked to the window, pulled back the curtain and looked right at him. “I’m…I’m so sorry,” Charlie whimpered, driving off to suffer alone.

  ⁕

  In the morning, Billy’s cell phone rang. Expecting it to be Vicki, he excitedly picked up. “Hey babe, I can’t tell you how happy you’ve made me. I’ve read your letter a half dozen times already and…”

  “It’s me,” Charlie said, followed by a ghostly pause.

  “Charlie?” Billy asked, stunned.

  “Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve decided to turn myself in and talk to that cop, Detective Swanson.”

  “You have?” Billy said, shocked. “Really?”

  “I’m heading over to the station right now,” Charlie muttered.

  “You don’t have to do this alone, Charlie. Mark and I will meet you there.”

  “Okay,” he said, “thanks.” And then there was silence.

  ⁕

  With Billy a
nd Mark on each side of him, Charlie—his eyes filled with panic and his bottom lip quivering—told Detective Swanson, “I owe you an apology,” he said, shaking his head at the absurdity of his words. “Actually, I owe more than an apology…to a lot of people.” He took a deep breath. “And the only way I can start to make things right is to tell you the truth about what really happened that night.” The last two words were delivered in a whimper; Charlie’s body was already convulsing from the heavy sobs. “…the night Dalton died,” he managed.

  “I’m glad you came forward, Charlie. An elderly eye witness just offered testimony of a car chase on the night of the accident.”

  “It’s true,” Charlie blurted. “I was the one who…”

  “Okay, son,” Swanson interrupted, “before you say another word, I need to read you your rights.”

  “I’m under arrest?” Charlie asked.

  “No, you’re not. But it’s important you know your Miranda Rights before you say another word…in the event that we do find cause to press charges.”

  “Okay,” Charlie murmured.

  “What’s most important is that you know you have the right to an attorney.” He lowered his voice. “…which I highly recommend, son.”

  “Okay,” Charlie repeated, his face bleached to white.

  A young uniformed officer removed a set of handcuffs from his utility belt and approached Charlie.

  “There’s no need to cuff him,” Swanson told the cop, pointing to the rear of the police station. “Just take him to Interview Room Two. I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

  Charlie was escorted toward the back room in the police station, while the stern police officer explained, “You have the right to remain silent…”

  “I’m here for you, brother,” Billy called out. “And that’s never going to change.”

  “Ever,” Mark yelled.

  With his head hung low, Charlie nodded.

  “You have the right to an attorney,” the cop continued. “If you cannot afford one…”

  Seconds later, Charlie disappeared behind the door and into the firm embrace of the justice system.

  Billy and Mark stood alone with Detective Swanson, Billy feeling like Judas for talking Charlie into confessing.

  “It may not feel like it right now,” the old law man told Billy, “but you’re a good friend.”

  While Mark patted his back, Billy’s eyes filled with tears. “Sure I am.” He shook his head. “What’s going to happen to Charlie?”

  “Well, we’ll get his side of the story and, if we believe a crime was committed, we’ll charge him. After that, it’s in the hands of the courts.”

  “Oh man,” Billy moaned.

  “Trust me, Billy. The best thing Charlie could have done was to come forward on his own. The courts will see that and take it into consideration.”

  “Let’s hope,” Mark blurted.

  Detective Swanson looked at them both and nodded. “I’ll make sure they do, guys. You have my word on it.”

  “Thank you,” Mark said.

  Billy, however, was already picturing Vicki’s face when she found out. “Now what do I do?” he muttered to no one.

  ⁕

  Billy sat alone in the police station parking lot. I have to call Vicki and tell her, he thought. It’ll only be worse if she hears it from someone else. It took two seconds to locate Vicki’s cell number and twenty minutes to press the green call button. It rang twice before she picked up. Billy cringed.

  “Hi babe,” she said.

  It was the first and only time he’d ever been sorry to hear her voice. “Are you home?” he asked.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, picking up on his tentative tone.

  “We need to talk.”

  “What is it, Billy?” she asked, sounding nervous. “Tell me.”

  He cleared the lump from his throat. “I don’t want to discuss it on the phone.”

  She paused. “Okay, now you’re scaring me,” she said.

  “Can I come over right now?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she said. “But can you at least tell me…”

  “I’ll be right over,” he interrupted, hanging up.

  Vicki was waiting for Billy, sitting on her front stoop. As he parked the car, she stood and waited for him. The short walk from the curb to her front door felt like a stroll to the electric chair.

  As he reached her, there were no hugs or kisses, just a bombardment of nervous questions. “What is it, Billy?” she asked. “There’s something wrong, isn’t there? I can tell by your voice. What is it?”

  He looked into her eyes and, to his surprise, he began to cry. He collapsed onto the front step.

  She joined him, wrapping her arms around him. “Please tell me,” she whispered, her eyes filling with his contagious tears. “Whatever it is, I’m right here beside you.”

  Billy looked up slowly and gazed into her eyes again; this time, he lingered there for a moment, like he was never going to see her again and knew it.

  “Billy…please,” she begged.

  He shook his head and opened his mouth to speak. At first, nothing came out. He took a deep breath. “I just came from the police station,” he said.

  “Oh my God, what happened?” she asked, nearly sitting in his lap now.

  He searched her face again and could feel his heart start to tear. “My friend Charlie…”

  “Yeah? Has he been hurt?” she asked frantically. “Is he in trouble?”

  Billy nodded. “He’s in big trouble, Vicki. He…he just confessed…”

  “Confessed to what?” she asked, her eyes wide with fear.

  The tears were coming fast now, making it hard for Billy to see Vicki’s face clearly. “He just confessed to running your cousin Dalton off the road the night he died.”

  Vicki convulsed slightly, her forehead creasing in disbelief.

  Billy shook his head, like he still couldn’t believe it himself, and blurted out the rest of it. “Charlie thought Dalton was seeing his girlfriend, Bianca, behind his back and…and he lost his mind over it. He followed Dalton home that night from the party and…” He stopped, knowing there was no reason for more details.

  While Vicki took a moment to process what she’d just been told, Billy watched as her body naturally recoiled, moving away from him. “Vicki, please,” he said, reaching for her hand.

  She pulled away. “Charlie killed my cousin?” she said, still trying to make sense of it. “So Dalton was murdered?” She gagged at the truth of it. “My aunt and uncle are going to…” She stopped and gagged again, putting her hand over her mouth.

  For a few horrific moments, Billy and Vicki sat together on her front stoop, their heads hung in pain. Billy’s mind raced out of control, while Vicki dry heaved a few times.

  Suddenly, she looked up at him and the deep hurt in her eyes nearly ripped his heart clean from his heaving chest. “Please tell me the truth, Billy.” She hesitated a moment, as if in prayer. “Did…did you know that Charlie ran Dalton off the road that night and killed him?” she asked, her tone a mix of desperate hope and betrayal.

  While his eyes swelled with tears, he dropped his gaze. “Yes. Charlie told me about the accident…”

  “Accident?” she squealed.

  His head snapped up.

  “How was that an accident?” she screamed. “You just told me that Charlie Philips killed my cousin in a jealous rage!” She studied Billy’s eyes and, in one brutal moment, her love for him completely vaporized from her face.

  A pang of fear ripped through Billy’s core. We’re breaking up, he realized, watching like a helpless victim as they did the irreversible dance of destruction. We’re never going to make love or kiss again or…

  “When did you know?” she asked, still trying to be strong but having trouble maintaining eye c
ontact.

  He shook his head in shame. “Charlie told me about it a few days after it happened.”

  “Oh my God!” she gasped, jumping to her feet. “You’ve known the entire time we were together?” Her voice was dripping with the pain that accompanies the worse betrayals. “I was at least hoping…” She stopped in mid sentence again and shook her head. “I guess it doesn’t matter now what I was hoping.”

  Billy gasped and struggled to take in air. “I’m…I’m so sorry, Vicki,” he cried. As he stood, the world started to spin and he wobbled on his unsure feet.

  “I loved you so much,” she said, backing away from him and starting to sob.

  Loved, Billy thought, concentrating on the past tense. “Please, babe,” he cried.

  “Don’t you dare call me babe!” she hissed, her voice laced with venomous rage. “I almost gave myself to you,” she thought aloud, shaking her head. “Thank God I didn’t.”

  Her words felt like knives slicing into Billy’s flesh until they pierced his heart. “Please just give me a chance to explain. I told Charlie right from the start that he needed to come clean, but he…”

  But Vicki had already turned and started to walk into her house.

  “Vicki, I tried telling you!” he pleaded, hysterically.

  She stopped for a moment.

  “The day I saved that stray dog, I came to your house and tried to tell you how Dalton died,” he explained, “but you didn’t want to hear it.” He tried to catch his breath. “You…you wouldn’t let me finish.”

  She turned back. “So then it’s my fault you kept it from me?” she hissed.

  He shook his head. “I’m not saying that. I’m only saying that I tried and…”

  “You didn’t try hard enough, Billy,” she whispered, her voice thick with condemnation. The front door banged loudly behind her, like an angry wooden gavel deciding their fate.

  “No!” Billy screamed out, with the desperation of an abandoned child. Tears cascaded down his cheeks. He wanted to pound on the door and chase after her, but he stopped himself. I can’t, he thought. I love Vicki too much to cause her any more pain. Given how he’d hurt her so deeply, he knew, Now it’s my turn to pay. By finally telling Vicki the truth, he realized, I’ve completely destroyed any possibility at having a future with my true love. His heart was now shredded; this was not a clean break but a jagged tear that would take so much longer to heal, if it ever really did. “No,” he repeated in a defeated whisper, staggering off Vicki’s stoop for the final time. “Please no…” He sat in his car by the curb—much longer than he should have—weeping like a wounded animal.