Peace Love Resistance

by Jettie Woodruff

  “I did that the first five times she called. Go answer the phone.”

  I jumped out of the van, slamming the door behind me, pissed off at my mom and Avery. What the hell?

  My mom followed me into the back door, right into the kitchen where she retrieved two beers. One for her, and one not for my dad. She took them both and walked out the same door to the pond without a word.

  Knowing their fight must still be in the midst, I picked up the old phone. “Hello.”

  “Ugh, I hate you not having service. It sucks. Hi.”

  I frowned at the phone in my hand like she could see me. “What do you want, Avery? I’m busy.”

  “With what. It’s almost nine.”

  “Working on a car. What do you want?”

  “You, Ty. I miss us. I don’t want this. I’m sorry. I messed up. Please don’t throw away the last two years. We’ll be okay.”

  “You broke up with me.”

  “I’m sorry. I screwed up. Don’t you miss me?”

  My eyes shifted to my dad, taking two beers from the refrigerator and following my mom’s trail without a word. I waited for him to leave before speaking, my mind going to Tristan and Baby-T. I did feel painfully vacant, but not from Avery. The emptiness I felt was from Tristan, not her. “No, Avery. I’m good. I’m okay here. It’s not so bad.”

  “You hate it there.”

  “Actually, I don’t, but I am really busy. I’ve got to go. Move on, Avery.”

  The silence and the sniffing didn’t make me feel bad at all; it annoyed the hell out of me. “Please don’t do this, Ty. I love you. I’m sorry. Please, Ty.”

  “Avery, you’re over fifteen-hundred miles from me. We’re not going to be together.”

  “I don’t care about the other girl, Ty. I slipped, too. We can get through this. We can. We’ve been together for two years, not two weeks like her. It’s just new to you. It won’t last. Not like us. I love you, Ty.”

  A deep breath of frustration moved in and out of my lungs. She decided to breakup with me without caring about me, yet here she was expecting me to validate her feelings. The feelings I didn’t care about. “You’re not hearing me. I don’t want you. Stop calling me.”

  “Can I at least borrow a couple hundred bucks? I only need two-fifty. My dad’s making me pay the deductible from backing into that truck. I can’t drive it until I get it fixed. Mason told me you got almost two grand from your video.”

  Again, I frowned at the phone. This girl was unreal. Without speaking another word, I placed the receiver back to its cradle. Unbelievable. The truth comes out. She didn’t give a shit about us; she needed money so she could drive her stupid car. Looking out to the pond, to my dad with his arms around my mom, I rolled my eyes and took two of their beers. They’d never miss it, never did.

  Not knowing if it would even work, I ran upstairs and grabbed the box of paints, still packed from my room. Even though I had the image in my head, I really didn’t know if it would work or not. Acrylic paint and headliners wasn’t something I was accustomed to but I was about to find out.

  I chugged one beer and opened the other one while I mixed paint, my eyes continuing to look at the cassette tape. There was one or two things I needed to do. Either listen to the damn tape or throw it away. It would haunt me until I did. Stepping into the back of the van with a pallet full of paint, I turned the key backwards and pushed it in. My fingers worked the brush, starting in the back, mixing blues and whites, hoping it worked. The painting was supposed to distract me; keep me from getting too wrapped up in this guy’s life. The tape was eighteen years old. There was nothing in it that mattered now anyway.

  The guy named Shane told a couple stories about their lives and their little girl, bringing a smile to my face. Funny stories that I didn’t really have. I didn’t feel uneasy about the way he talked now. His voice was soothing, somewhat peaceful and calm. There was no doubt the guy loved his family. Nonetheless, I was sure something bad happened to him along the way. He told a story about his daughter being fearless, climbing up a ladder to get to him in the loft of the barn that I now occupied. I even glanced over to the ladder once thinking about it, a smile on my face, seeing Baby-T doing the same thing to get to me. That’s the kind of dad I wanted to be to him. The guy laughed a couple times, begging his wife not to let her lose that.

  I almost felt like I was invading a space that I didn’t have permission to occupy. Like this was his barn, his van, his life. Even though I knew the kid was three, he still called her a baby, Baby-T. My head shook when I found myself thinking she did sound like a pretty cool little kid. I never even paid little kids a bit of mind, but the way he talked about her, about how alive and clairvoyant she was, made me feel like I wished I knew her. She was a three-year-old squirrel whisperer, he’d said, telling a tale about the little critters eating right out of her hand, but no one else’s. The next story about the coast of Maine caused me to stop the painting above my head and pay closer attention. The whale appearing as the guy proposed was just too coincidental. Weird even. The exact same story I’d heard from Tristan. Right about then was when things got deep. Real deep. A new voice appeared and I stopped all movement, dropped my butt to the rubber floor, and paid close attention. My mouth dried up, my eyes widened, and my heart beat hard behind my chest, loud thumps heard in both ears.

  First there was a commotion, a loud crash followed by what sounded like a fight. A lot of breaking glass and grunting and then the strange voice.

  “Tie him to the chair.”

  “Get the fuck off me.”

  Although I couldn’t see it, I visualized from the sounds, the guy being held by one and punched by the other one.

  “Did you really think you could hide here, Swan? Huh? Who were you talking to?”

  “Fuck you!”

  Another few punches, what sounded like a spit, and then vomiting were all sounds I didn’t need to see to know what had just happened. The guy was getting the shit beat out of him. Right there on tape.

  “I asked you who you were talking to. Who were you just talking to?”

  “I won’t say anything. I swear to God. Just let me walk away. I have a family for God’s sake.”

  “No, that’s where you’re wrong. You had a family. Do you know where they are, Shane? Huh?”

  The guy didn’t back down, he was fearless. I heard more fighting and then silence, afraid that he went too far, worried that he killed the guy. If he did, he wasn’t concerned. He talked to what I’d thought was one other guy, but soon found out was definitely two. Three of them all together.

  “Go check out the house. Find whoever he was talking to and don’t come back until you do.”

  “On it.”

  I could hear noises, but no words for a good five minutes, moments that seemed like hours, frozen in shock. Unsure of what I had found, wanting to turn it off, yet too engrossed and stunned to do so, I listened.

  “There’s no sign of anyone here.”

  “Look again.”

  More ruffling, followed by the mafia guy or whatever the hell he was. CIA, something. I didn’t know what, but I knew he had some sort of power. That much I was sure of without even seeing the scene. I could hear it. Loud and clear.

  “Good morning, sleepy head. Ready to talk?”

  “Leave me alone, get the fuck out of my house.”

  “Come on, Swan. Do we really need to do this?”

  “What do you want? I’ll do whatever you want just leave us alone.”

  “Nah, what fun would that be? Did you really think you would get away with it? Huh? Did you, dick face? The moment you signed up for this job your computer was hacked. Your entire life was hacked. We know every move you’ve made from day one. Nine months, Shane. Every single move. You know, there’s one thing I hate in a man. When they promise something and then break it. Oh, and guys who try to be whistle blowers. Did you really think that reporter would get that email? Are you really that fucking stupid? Come on, Swan. You know
the game. Really? I thought you were the one. The one who’d step up and be a leader. Like me. You have no idea what you gave up when you decided to take the leap of—.”

  “The leap of what? Humanity?”

  “Humanity? You’re living in an imaginary world, boy. There’s no humanity. People don’t care about anyone but themselves. It’s a dog eat dog world out there. That’s where you went wrong. You see, you can’t feel with this job. Feelings are of no use in this community. You take what’s yours and what’s not. It’s called power. Something you’ll never get the chance to know because you were stupid. You fucked up, Shane. You fucked up. Now…you have to pay. We all have to pay for our mistakes, Swan, and unfortunately for you, I’m here to make you pay for yours.”

  “I’ll do whatever you want. Please, I swear to God, I won’t say a word. Please. I have a family.”

  “Yes, I know you have a family. I met your wife and little girl just yesterday. She’s hot as hell. I even took them out to dinner. I can’t wait to sink balls deep into that.”

  My eyes shifted to the noises coming from the tape, another punch and a chair screeching across the wood floor the same way it did when I scooted out. The same freaking kitchen, possibly the same chair. That made my heart beat faster just thinking about it, wondering if I was about to witness a eighteen year old murder, right there in the van.

  “You stay the fuck away from my wife.”

  “She’s a very good speaker. You didn’t tell me that. She’s amazing. People listen to her. I could really use her; mold her into a true reporter. Unlike you. God, I fucking hate traitors. A girl like that deserves a real man. Not some pansy-ass conspirator. And that little girl, I’m sure she’ll do well in a home or a girl’s school. We wouldn’t want mommy losing her focus, now would we?”

  Again, more loud noises and punching from the guy with the upper hand.

  “You fucking stay away from them. Savannah would never let you take her. Ever. I’ll fucking kill you. Leave them alone!”

  “No, no, that’s not how it’s going to play out, my friend. I’m going to beat the fuck out of you until you stop breathing, then I’m going to go put you in your own car and push you over one of these mountains.”

  “You won’t get away with it. Autopsies don’t lie. You’ll get caught. Don’t do this. Please. I won’t tell anyone. I’ll even leave the country.”

  “Shhh, Shane. You’re acting like a little pussy. Do you really think this is the first time I’ve done this? Do you think you’re the only idiot who ever crossed that line? You’re not. You are however the first one I’m going to be moving in on his family though. I can’t quit thinking about it. What’s her pussy taste like, huh, Shane? I bet it’s sweet. Is it sweet, Shane?”

  This guy was something else. I didn’t blame the other dude for trying. Even tied to a chair he didn’t quit, only he got the shitty end of the stick. As strong as he tried to be, his words were faded, coughs and choking as he tried, begging for not only his life, but also his families. “Don’t fucking touch her. You stay away from her. Stay away.”

  “It’s okay, Swan. I’m going to make her famous. Give me a couple years; she’ll be a household name. Just you wait and see. Don’t worry, buddy, I’ll take care of her, of both of them. Maybe I’ll get the kid some acting gig, make her a child star. That seems to always fuck them up, but don’t worry, Shane. I’ll get her some help. I’ll make sure she has ample counseling. I have access to some of the best mind bending shrinks in the world. She’ll be the best little robot-child you’ve ever seen, and if not, I know this really nice mental hospital. It’s the best. Damn, I haven’t been this excited in years. I’m glad you fucked up.”

  I swallowed the dry lump, my heart in my gut, listening to the guy revert to tears.

  “Please don’t do this. You can kill me. You can do whatever you want to me. Just leave them alone. Please. I’m begging you. Please. I’ll give you back all the money. I don’t want it.”

  “You will? Really? Okay. Let’s go get it.”

  “I—I have to sell this place first, but I can get it. I swear. Please. I’m begging you with my life.”

  “Let me think about it. Hmmm. No. You see, the whole flight here, I thought about what I could do to you that would make you pay the most. Besides killing you. I’m almost thirty you know. Maybe it’s time I settle down. She’s perfect. She knows how to present herself, she’s fucking beautiful, and young; so fresh an innocent. You do know I’ll be the one to give her the news, right? It’ll be my shoulder she cries on. I’ll be there for her as long as it takes. I’ll bet you a hundred bucks I’ll fuck her before a month is up. That kid will be in boarding school before you know it. Mark my words, Swan. Unlike some people. I always do what I say I’m going to do. You can watch me from hell. Too bad I won’t be able to see the look on your face when you watch her swallow me, or when you see your little girl, all alone with nobody to love her.”

  Nothing seemed right, something was toppling on the edge, but I wasn’t sure what, a discovery that I already knew. A revelation that I wasn’t ready to admit that I already knew, not until I heard it for myself anyway.

  “You can’t hurt Tristan, she’s special. She needs her mama.”

  “There’s no one else here, Clay. The house is empty.”

  “You better be sure. Go cut the break line. I’m ready to get the hell out of here. I’ve got some news to deliver. Take him outback and finish this. I’m over it already.”

  “Can I at least give you something for her?”

  “Probably not. What is it?”

  “Our wedding tape. The songs we used to listen to before we got married and the songs from our reception. Please. I really want her to have it.”

  “Where is it? I’ll think about it.”

  “I’ll get it. Can I least take a piss?”

  “Sure, and I’ll even let you listen to your special tape on your way down the mountain side. Idiot.”

  That was it. The tape stopped and he never gave it to her. It was left in the same van that I sat in. The van that faked his death. I sat there with a drying paintbrush; my arms drooped over my knees, wishing I had chosen option number two. I should have thrown it away. Wanting to un-hear what I’d heard, I stood and ejected the tape, dropping it like a hot coal, my mind a whirlwind of emotion as I stared at it on the floor.

  This was Tristan’s house. She lied. She lied to me about everything. She wasn’t just passing through. She lived there with her mom and her dad, her murdered dad. Of course I couldn’t help but wonder if it didn’t have something to do with the twin towers. More people than not thought it was an inside job. Maybe he was trying to warn the people. Whatever it was, I was okay with not knowing. The guy lost his life in vain, all for nothing, and I was the only one who knew about it. I didn’t like it. Not even a little.

  It all came true. This dick head, Clay did everything he set out to do and I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to tie him to a chair and beat the fuck out of him until he bled from his eyeballs. The adrenaline raced through my veins, refusing to calm. It was more intense than I could handle. Even more than the night I delivered Baby-T, a different kind of anxiety pumping quickly through my body. She told me her dad’s name was the same as mine. She said his name was Tobias. Why? Nothing made sense to me anymore, and I couldn’t help but worry about her motives. What did she know? What did she want?

  I looked up to my half painted ceiling and crawled out of the van, my mind needing a mental break. A safety meeting. I needed fresh air and then weed. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

  Even though I had no intentions of getting back in that van, I got high and jumped right back in. I ended up finishing the entire celling, an ocean with waves and whitecaps, flowing from the back to the front. Unable to sleep with a lot of what the fuck’s, hitting me all at once. From out of nowhere came this girl, this baby, this…Jesus. He was her dad. That fact seemed to pop in and out of my mind constantly, shocking me like a volt of lightening ev
ery time. And then I would wonder what to say to her. Maybe she was in on something, too. Maybe she was there for me, but why?

  “Jesus Christ, Ty. Go to bed,” I said aloud, my fingers running through my hair as I chastised myself for adding more craziness to the already ridiculous situation.

  I climbed up the ladder without turning on the light and sat on the end of my hay bed, a deep breath of exhaustion mixed with exasperation filling my lungs. Seeing the light on in her van, I looked to see the time, instantly worried that something was wrong. It was late, almost three in the morning, surely she wasn’t still reading. I reached for the binoculars and zoomed into her window with an automatic smile. There was no doubt she lied to me about her dad, but there was also no doubt that she had a reason. Tristan would never purposely hurt anyone. There was no doubt in that either. Somehow though, I had to bring it up. Did I tell her or go on pretending her dad just had an accident? This was more change than I thought I was ready for.

  She was singing to Tobias. Her lips moving, and the way her head moved was a dead giveaway. I watched her pull his little legs from his sleeper and change his diaper, my eyes rolling at the pink bows on the feet. Truthfully though, that made me smile, too. Someday, I’d tell him all about it, show him the photos of him wearing girl’s clothes, thanks to his mom. Of course I’d tell him I fought for him. I moved the binoculars down when Tristan pulled her sundress down until she got him situated.

  Even after she turned out the light, I couldn’t sleep. So many questions filled my mind, questions that I couldn’t answer. There was a reason for all this. Maybe Tristan wasn’t the crazy one. Maybe the eleven’s weren’t just a coincidence. Maybe this was all meant to happen. Maybe we really were destined to find each other. Maybe for Baby-T if nothing else. Maybe—. I had a million of them. One maybe right after another, a garden of verity.

  I fell asleep surfing the Internet for anything I could find about him. The guy was almost nonexistent. Vanna Wise, now that was a different story. She was everywhere. Although I had no clue what was going on politically, I did know who she was. Even her slimy husband Clay; I knew him, too. Sort of. Just a week before school ended, I cut an article out of the newspaper about him for my current events class. That’s all I knew. He was a good guy then, cutting a ribbon for some park he’d donated money to.