He decided that he’d drive by in the morning and if the truck was not in the driveway, he’d stop and get the mute. If it was, he’d just keep going and try to put the matter out of his mind. With a plan in place, he finally dozed off into a dreamless sleep.
***
“Are you all right, babe?”
“Yes, of course. Why?” Dave stood in front of the stove eating bacon that had drained onto paper towels earlier that morning.
“I heard you get up last night, then you tossed and turned when you came back to bed. Then I couldn’t wake you for breakfast. Was your stomach bothering you again?”
“Not at all. I’m fine. Just a little bothered by something that happened on a job. I’ll tell you about it later.”
Nikki frowned, then kissed the back of Dave’s neck, raising goosebumps along the back of his arms.
“Don’t start,” he said, laughing. “I’ve got to run an errand, then I’ll tend to you when I get back.”
“Are you sure?” she teased. “Jake’s on a playdate at Petey’s. We have the house to ourselves right now.”
“Tempting. Very tempting,” he said, stuffing another full slice of crispy bacon into his mouth. “But I’d be too distracted to give you the attention you deserve. Raincheck?” he asked, turning around and wiping his mouth before giving his wife a quick peck on her lips.
“Okay. I guess I’ll go workout then… naked, since I have the house to myself.” She walked away slowly, removing her t-shirt as she went.
Dave looked at her smooth tan back and was tempted to follow her, but he was determined to solve the disturbing puzzle that was planted in his mind. He shook his head and called out, “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” then headed out to his car.
From nearly a quarter mile away, Dave could see that the truck was not at the house. For the most part, the terrible feeling from the dream had faded, but he could still recall every frame of the mental movie with perfect clarity. It did not fade away as dream images would’ve done. He called up his tasks and repeated them to himself. Get the mute. Try to see Theodore’s hands. Go home, and make love to Nikki. Easy-peasy.
He told himself that Theodore would be fine – not counting the fat lip and the black eye, but his hands would be fine. Then he could forget about the dream-vision thing and resume his normal life. He didn’t actually know what had happened to Theodore. Randomly appearing images in his mind was insufficient cause to assume the boy was being abused.
As soon as he told himself that, he recalled Ron yanking the child up from the floor and dragging him out of the room. He thought of the way Ron had pushed the door into him and then yelled, “Who the hell are you?” He knew what he’d done and it didn’t even occur to him to apologize or ask if Dave was okay.
He parked the car and looked down the street, making sure that Ron’s truck wasn’t coming. He grabbed his tool bag and walked quickly to the front door. He knocked and waited, trying to clear his mind. He would go by the facts – not speculation.
Gloria opened the door and looked at him, wrinkling her brow.
“Hi. I’m sorry to bother you. But I dropped a small tool inside your piano yesterday and I was wondering if I could just retrieve it real quick. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
“Yeah. Okay,” she said, opening the screen door.
When Dave walked in it seemed that the odor inside the house beckoned the disturbing mental images from last night and the day before. He forced his mind to clear and keep focused on the task at hand. He glanced left and right without moving his head, hoping to spot Theodore. He didn’t see him or hear him anywhere.
He slid the bench away from the piano, set his tool bag down, unzipped it and took out a Phillips screwdriver and a small L.E.D. flashlight. He sat down and began to unscrew the bracket holding the lower front board to the key bed. He pulled the board away and rested it against the bench. His mute was sitting right there.
If it hadn’t been for the dream-vision thing, he would’ve just bought another one on his next trip to the music supply store. They weren’t expensive and it would be worth it to not have to come back here. But now he had it and was putting the board back, then screwing the bracket back in place, and still no sign of Theodore.
“Has Teddy had a chance to try the piano yet?”
“Um… not really. It’ll be a while before he can get around to trying it out.”
“Oh, really? Is he pretty busy lately?”
“You might’ve noticed, he’s a bit of a klutz. Never watches where he’s goin’. And last night… well, he fell and hurt his fingers.”
Chills went down Dave’s back. He wanted to ask, “All of them?” but felt that it would be an odd question. He had his confirmation. He didn’t need to verify that every finger was injured. She’d just given him what he came for.
“Mommy” Theodore called out from behind a closed door. “I’m done.”
“Just a minute,” she yelled back. “Are you all finished up— I forgot your name.”
“Dave. And yes. I’m finished. Thank you for letting me in, and again, I’m sorry to have bothered you. Have a great day, Mrs. Mackey.”
“You too,” she said, and watched him walk to the door and leave the house.
Dave knew exactly what Theodore needed. He was in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet, and was unable to wipe himself because of the injuries to both of his hands.
“Dave, what’s wrong? You look terrible.”
“Let’s go in the back,” he said, dropping his keys on the table as he walked by and exited through the sliding glass door to the back patio. He dropped into a chair and sighed.
“Do you want anything to drink?” Nikki asked from the kitchen.
“A beer,” he called out.
Nikki came out with two bottles of water and sat down. “What’s going on, Dave?”
“There’s a man abusing his child,” he just blurted, getting right to the heart of it with no preamble.
“As terrible as that is, thousands of children are abused every day. What does this one have to do with you?”
Dave pushed his fingers back through his hair and wondered how much he should tell his wife. He took the cap off the Dasani bottle and drank half of it before responding. “For one thing, I’m intimately aware of this particular child’s abuse. He’s not just a statistic. He’s also probably extremely gifted and very intelligent and somehow that makes it feel worse to know what’s happening to him. In another family, he’d be praised and encouraged to develop his skills. But in this one, his spirit is being crushed and his body is being broken.”
“Woah! You better start from the beginning. You’ve never said anything about this. How long have you known this was going on?”
“I just found out yesterday.”
“You learned all about this child yesterday? On a tuning job?”
“Yes. You’re right. I’ll start from the beginning.”
Dave told her everything, including the images in the Mackey’s dining room and the disturbing dream that was apparently more than just a dream.
Nikki held Dave’s hands in hers and cried as he finished the brief but tragic story.
***
“We have to do something for that poor kid,” Nikki said.
Dave picked up the remote lying on the bed between them and muted the television. “You mean, call the authorities?”
“Yes! You should call child services first thing in the morning.”
Dave thought about it. He knew he could keep his identity anonymous, but he wondered if Ron and Gloria would suspect him of being the one who reported them since he had just been there. If Ron was a violent person, he might lash out against someone reporting him for hurting his son.
“Babe, you know you need to report this, right?”
“Yeah. Of course.” He wasn’t going to tell his wife that he was considering his own well-being and that when it came right down to putting it into words, Ron scared him.
“Good.” Sh
e leaned over and kissed him, and took the remote from him while doing so.
She unmuted the TV and fell asleep a short while later. Dave however found sleep harder to come by. He eventually told himself that there were many people who could report Theodore’s abuse. Did it really have to be him? And if he went through with it and made the call, would Ron be smart enough to realize that there were more people than Dave who could’ve done it?
He finally drifted off thinking, “All I want is a simple life. It shouldn’t be so hard.”
***
The next morning, Nikki was gone somewhere when Dave awoke. His first job wasn’t until eleven so he had plenty of time to think and worry about making the dreaded call. After breakfast, he decided to drive by the Mackey house. He didn’t have a clear reason for doing so. It wasn’t as if he’d drive by and see Theodore miraculously healed and the family having a nice picnic on the front lawn, thus making this whole issue disappear for him.
He drove past the house slowly, wishing he could draw something from it. Something he could take away and make him feel better about what he needed to do. Maybe if he saw Ron actually striking the child, that would cement it for him. After all, what did he really know? They’d said that Theodore fell down and hit his head, and then he fell down again and hurt his fingers. What if he did? How would Dave and Nikki feel if Jake hurt himself in a fall and someone accused them of abuse? He didn’t actually know anything, did he? Suspicion was all he had. That and a weird telepathic certainty.
As he drove back home, he passed a Homeland Security billboard that read, “If you see something, say something.” Okay, what if he just called and said that he’d seen something and didn’t know for sure what it meant. That would put the problem into the hands of the proper people to determine if there was anything to be concerned about.
And if he was ever confronted by Ron he could tell him that he was just concerned and wanted to be sure. Was that a bad thing? What kind of person would he be if he wasn’t concerned for the well-being of a child?
With that decided, Dave looked up the number online and called Child & Family Services. He punched in the number, put his cell phone on speaker, then set the phone down on the counter and mindlessly looked in the kitchen cabinets as he waited for his call to be answered. He was repeatedly informed that his call was important and to please stand by as all staff were currently busy with other callers.
Finally Dave peeled open a banana, more from boredom than actual hunger and just when he’d taken a large bite, the jazz music stopped and a woman spoke.
“Thank you for calling Child & Family Services. My name is Yvonne. How may I assist you?”
Dave waved his hand back in forth in the air in front of his phone while trying to quickly chew the mouthful of banana.
“Hello? Is there anyone on the line?”
Dave mumbled, “Just a second” with his mouthful.
“Is this an emergency? Make a sound if you need me to call the police.”
Dave finally swallowed and said, “I’m sorry. I was eating while I was on hold. I’m here.”
“Oh, well that’s good. I apologize for the delay. How may I assist you?”
Dave found himself not mentally prepared for what to say so he just blurted out the first thing that came to him.
“This may be nothing, but I was at a house where there was a child with a black eye and a fat lip. And the, uh, parents said he’d fallen. The next day, I went back and this time the child’s hands were hurt and they said he’d fallen again, so, you know, I was just wondering if there was possibly something more to it than what they were saying.”
Yvonne told Dave that it was good of him to call and that you could never be too careful, especially where a child was concerned. She got all of the pertinent information from him to make a full report and assured him that it would be looked into, and that his identity would not be revealed. And that was it. He’d done it. It was much easier than he had anticipated.
He almost felt foolish for worrying about it so much. It was like calling the DMV and updating his registration or something that could actually be done over the phone and was no big deal.
Dave felt so much better afterwards that he barely even gave it any thought. Nikki was pleased with him for having done his part to help a poor little battered child and told him how great he was. She was extra attentive that night when they went to bed.
Then the next day she was being very flirtatious with him via text while he was on a job. Afterwards, as he was walking to his truck, she called him.
“Dave, where are you?” Nikki sounded desperate and like she was crying.
“I’m just leaving the Davenports. Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m okay and Jake’s okay, but our front window is not. Someone threw a boulder through it with a note on it.”
“Oh my God. Are you sure you and Jake are okay?”
“We’re fine. Just a bit rattled. And we’re scared. Dave, the note said, ‘Snitches get stiches’. Do you think it was… those people?”
“Make sure the doors are locked and—“
Dave hadn’t noticed the truck pulling up as he stood outside the door of his car. He felt a hand wrap around his throat and pull him backwards against the truck door. His head was pulled partly into the cab and yanked downward causing his back to arch and forcing him up onto his toes. He found himself looking upside down at Ron’s angry red face.
“You need to learn to mind your own goddamned business!”
Dave couldn’t breathe with his head pulled so far backwards, and to make it worse one big meaty hand was still squeezing his throat. His heart pounded and his mind panicked. His only hope in this vulnerable position was if someone came to his aid, but he was between two vehicles, so anyone passing wouldn’t even be likely to see what was happening. He couldn’t count on a passerby intervening.
He did the only thing he could do. He reached back with both hands to pry Ron’s hands off his neck. Ron took the phone out of Dave’s right hand and slammed it down on his forehead repeatedly until the phone broke and blood ran from Dave’s head. Then he threw it out the passenger window and shoved Dave away from his truck.
“Next time it’ll be your woman and your child. Ya hear me?” He stepped on the gas and burned rubber as he pulled away.
Dave stood there choking and holding onto his throat. Blood dripped into his eyes, mixed with tears and ran down his face. He lifted his shirt and blotted his eyes as he coughed and tried to keep from gagging.
Now that he could see again, he could start to think also. His first thought was of his phone. Ron had thrown it. He looked down the street and saw it thirty or so feet away. He walked toward it on trembling legs, feeling completely disoriented. He couldn’t believe what had just happened to him in the middle of a suburban street on a sunny day.
Everything around him looked normal as ever. Apparently no one had seen the attack. At least not that he could tell. No one was coming out to ask if he was okay or if he needed help. He reached his phone and bent to pick it up. When he bent, he lost his balance and fell to the street. He sat there staring at his phone for a minute, still in some degree of shock.
He saw that the screen was cracked and smeared with blood, but the display was still lit. He saw Nikki’s face on the lock screen. Nikki! Suddenly he felt the urgent need to get home and make sure his wife and son were safe. He grabbed the phone and got up.
He dragged his finger across the bloody glass to reveal the functional screen beneath the photo of Nikki and tapped the handset icon. He touched the number nine and then one as he walked toward his car and then held his finger above the one and stopped himself from pressing it a second time. He looked up to make sure it was safe to cross the street, then did so and got inside his car.
He put the phone down on the center console and used his shirt again to wipe more blood from his face and forehead. Being inside his car caused a feeling of normality to wash over him. A familiar place. A bit of secu
rity. It was like an extension of “home.” The small measure of relief made him feel suddenly exhausted, but he needed to think and act.
He looked at his phone. He had dialed 9-1. He didn’t know if he should complete the call and send police to his house or if he should just race there himself. When Ron said, “Next time…” surely he didn’t just mean the next time Dave called CFS. He had to have meant the next time Dave called anyone about Ron – including the police.
Not wanting to chance it or take any more time to think about it at the moment, he reached into his pocket for his keys, started his car and drove faster than every posted speed limit all the way home.
The front window of his house was shattered with a large jagged section missing. What if Jake had been playing in front of it when the boulder came through? What if Nikki had been cleaning it or dusting the bookshelf? Chills went through Dave’s body. The thought of anything happening to either of them was more than he could handle. He parked and rushed inside.
He locked the door behind him and turned around. The front room was empty. Glass was scattered over the polished wood floor.
“Nikki!” he called out, his heart already thumping in fear that he was too late. That beast had come after his family.
“We’re in Jake’s room,” she replied.
Dave sighed in relief. Thank God. He went down the hall to Jake’s room and was so happy to see them both sitting on the floor as though nothing bad had happened at all that day.
Nikki screamed. Jake cried out and back-pedaled away from his father.
“Honey, what’s the matter? You’re okay. Everything’s okay.”
“Oh my God, Dave! What happened to you?”
He wondered for a second how she knew, then he remembered. The blood. He looked down at his shirt. It was covered in blood.
“We need to get you to a hospital. I’ll call Joy—or 911. I’ll call 911.”
Dave turned around to spare them further exposure to the bloody mess that he was. “Just call Joy so she can watch Jake. Then you can help me. I don’t need an ambulance. Okay?”
Undermind: Nine Stories Page 2