My father sighed, and I tried my hardest not to laugh knowing full well what it’s like to meet Preppy for the first time. “Son, you either need to tell me what you’re talking about or up your medication, because I’m an old man and you’ve got me spinning in circles over here and I’ve only had a sip of beer.” He looked at me. “Do you know what he’s talking about?” I shook my head because honestly I had no idea, but I knew there was a point, there was always a point.
Well, sometimes there was a point.
My dad took another swig of his beer and I did the same, the cool bubbles tickling my tongue and throat. Of course it just so happens that Preppy waited until my father and myself had a mouthful of beer to explain himself, which resulted in the two of us spraying beer out of our mouths and noses.
On ourselves.
On each other. And to the delight of others, on everyone within a three feet radius.
“Doc’s dowry of course,” Preppy explained like we should have already known. “You know, for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
“Am I cattle?” I asked.
“I don’t know? Do you want to be?” Preppy asked, waggling his eyebrows.
“I don’t even know what that means!” I laughed, swatting him on the shoulder.
“Ahem,” my dad said, shaking his empty beer bottle. “I think I’m going to need another one of these before this conversation goes any further.”
Preppy jogged off to get him another one as Bo came crashing into my leg. Max and Sammy had been chasing him around the yard. My father didn’t miss a beat. “Is this the famous Bo?” he asked, crouching down.
Bo hid behind my leg.
“He’s a little shy,” I explained to my father. I reached around to give Bo’s hair a rustle. “Bo this is your…” I paused, not knowing what my dad wanted to be called. Thankfully he finished for me.
My father waved me off. “Bo I’m your grandpa. You can call me Grandpa or Papa or…” I gave my dad a stern look to remind him that Bo didn’t talk. “You can call me whatever you would like.” Dad took his open hand and held his thumb to his forehead. Bo peered out from behind me. When Dad was sure Bo was looking he moved his hand away from his face making two small arches in the air. “That’s the hand sign for Grandpa.” My heart melted and I felt like I was going to cry.
“What the heck’s wrong with you?” my dad asked.
“I have something in my eye!” I snapped, and my father just laughed. Bo pointed up at me and smiled at his new grandpa. “Oh great, you’re making fun of me too!” I said, reaching around to tickle him.
“I have something for you, Bo,” my dad said. Preppy came around then with my dad’s beer in hand. Dad opened his wallet. Your mom says you’re six-years-old which means I owe you six years’ worth of birthday, Christmas, Easter…” he counted out several bills before taking everything from his wallet and pushing it into Bo’s hands.
“Dad you don’t have to do that, especially since…” I started but stopped not wanting to bring up my dad losing his store and damage his pride.
“Especially since what? You can say it, dear,” Dad said, standing up. Preppy knelt and helped a smiling Bo count his money.
“Especially since you LOST your business,” I said in a low voice.
Dad surprised me by laughing. Preppy picked up Bo and placed him on his shoulders, hanging onto his knees. Bo wrapped his little arms around Preppy’s head, covering his eyes with his hands. Preppy lifted them so he could exchange a knowing glance with my father.
“What’s going on here?” I asked. “What am I missing?”
“Your dad didn’t lose his store,” Preppy said.
“He didn’t?”
Dad shook his head. “Nope. I was bought out. Some big bookstore made me a more than fair offer and I jumped on it. They don’t even want to take it over, they just paid me to close up and get out of the way. Either way, now I’m debt free and my schedule has been cleared up to spend more time with my beautiful daughter and her new family.”
“And you knew about this?” I asked Preppy who was leaning to one side as far as he could without Bo falling off.
“Maybe?” he said, but it came out like a question. He set Bo down on the grass and the two of them took off across the yard, chasing one another through the small crowds of people who happily made way for the new father and son.
“Us boys. We chatted,” Dad said, slyly.
“When?” I asked.
“The day you came back from Logan’s Beach…and every other day since,” Dad said. He pointed to Preppy who caught Bo in his arms and was twirling him around, his feet barely missing King and Bear who jumped back and pretended to have been hit. “That Samuel. I don’t know what to make of him. Frankly I don’t understand half the shit that comes out of his mouth, but I know one thing and it’s the only thing that matters in my book.”
“What’s that?”
“That he loves you. He looks at you the same way I looked at your mom, but I didn’t need to see it to know it. I heard it in his voice long before that,” my dad said, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.
I wiped my eyes, sniffling.
“No more tears, kid,” my dad said with a laugh. “This is a time to celebrate!”
“Wait,” I said, realizing something. “So between their money and the money from the sale of Mirna’s house, you’ll be okay, then? At least for awhile I mean?”
My dad nodded and took a swig of his beer. “Kid, your old man will be set until Bo there is ready to go to college. And that’s just with the money from the store sale. I never touched the money you put in my account from Mirna’s house. I transferred it right back down here into an account in Bo’s name. You can use it for his college or whatever else he’ll need growing up. Trust me, kids are expensive,” he said with a smile. Dad gave my shoulder another squeeze. “I’m going to go find the little boys room.”
I watched him walk toward the house. I pulled at my imaginary sleeves. Preppy came up beside me and put his hands on his knees. He was out of breath from running around with Bo who was now happily chasing Max and Sammy around the yard.
I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh. “I’m not out of breath, your out of breath,” Preppy said, standing upright and pulling me against his chest. He gave me a quick peck on the cheek and was off again, heading toward all three kids making monster noises.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Ray asked, sauntering over with one hand in her back pocket and a beer in the other.
“My dad, he never used the money from the sale of Mirna’s house,” I said, still not quite able to believe what he just told me. “The money, he put it in an account for Bo.”
“I know,” Ray said.
“I’m happy he did it, but I wish we would have known sooner. Wait, you know…”
“Yeah, I know,” she admitted. “Sooner when? Like before you sold the house?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, more confused than ever. “But oh well, I guess things happen for a reason. I mean, I can’t believe my dad got such a great offer on the store when it was failing so miserably. Whether they only paid him to close or not it seems odd that a company would pay so much money for a failing business.”
“It is odd, because it never happened.”
“Huh?”
Ray rocked back on her feet. My dad came out of the house and I officially introduced him to Ray. “Mr. Capulet, Dre was just telling me about the sale of your business, congratulations. Tell me, do you remember the name of the company that bought your store?” she asked, chewing on her lip.
My dad looked up and twisted his lips. “Let me think. Oh yeah, now I remember. Bow Tied Books.” He pointed to Preppy. “Fitting isn’t it?” he asked, not making the same connection I had.
I spit out my beer and Ray chuckled.
“You okay?” my dad asked.
“Yeah, this beer is skunked. That’s all.”
One of the GG’s came over to introduce themselves to my dad. �
��Told you so,” Ray sang in my ear. “And here, these belong to you,” she said, tossing me a set of keys that I recognized instantly by Mirna’s green lucky rabbit foot keychain. “I already signed it back over to both you and Preppy.”
“How?” I asked.
Ray shrugged. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ll pay you back. I’ll…”
“No,” Ray said, closing my hand around the keys. “This is what family does.” She looked over to Preppy who now had Bo on his back and were chasing King and Sammy while Max shrieked around them, hiding behind Bear’s legs. “And like it or not, you’re family now.” And with that Ray sauntered over to King and stood on her tiptoes, planting a small kiss on his mouth. He returned her kiss with one of his own that wasn’t nearly as PG. They’d delayed their wedding after everything that had happened with Preppy but I was looking forward to those two tying the knot soon.
“Andrea, do you know if there is any wine around?” my dad asked. “Sandra isn’t such a big fan of beer.”
I smiled at the grey haired lady my father had his arm linked with. “I’m on it. I think there is a bottle of red inside.” I ran up the porch and it only took me a minute to find a bottle of wine, which had a good build up of dust coating it. I was trying to find a wine opener when I realized it was a screw cap. “Hopefully Sandra doesn’t mind very old very cheap red,” I said to myself.
With a beer bottle in hand I turned around and stopped just short of crashing into Bo who had a frown on his face where only moments before he was smiling from ear to ear.
“Hey Bo! What’s the matter?” I asked, crouching down and inspecting him for any play session injuries. He vigorously shook his head from side to side. He looked up at me and his eyes went wide. Sheer terror was written all over his perfect baby face. When I realized it wasn’t me he was looking at, but something over my shoulder, it was already too late.
I was already too late.
A strong hand holding a rag came over my nose and mouth, the other gripping the back of my neck. Before I could even think to fight off whatever or whoever was behind me, my limbs went numb. My brain floated around in my skull. Bo’s frightened image turned blurry, and then sideways as I crashed to the floor.
My heart broke. Bo was scared I couldn’t help him. I couldn’t protect him. Only a few days in and I’d already failed him as his mother. As the blackness claimed me I heard a strangled cry. A beautiful yet painful sound. I drifted off into somewhere unfamiliar, grateful that the last thing I might ever hear was my son’s little voice for the very first time.
Even though he was screaming.
“Mooooooooommmmmmmmy!”
TO BE CONTINUED…
PART THREE
“The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague.
Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?”
-Edgar Allen Poe
Prologue
Dre
There’s the type of evil that dwells deep within men’s souls, the kind that makes them do cruel things because they’re driven to do so by the demons whispering inside them.
Evil can be subjective.
At least that’s what I’ve learned in my time with Preppy.
Not all acts of malice are created equal. Not all men who have those demons choose to unleash them into the world. There are those like Preppy, like Bear, like King, who’ve chosen to channel that need, compartmentalize it into something they only draw upon when needed.
When threatened.
Preppy is capable of both cruelty and mercy, of both murder and salvation. He’s been the victim, the villain, and the hero. What I don’t think he’ll ever realize is that this gives him a power most men would dare not aspire to. Throughout his entire life, he’s walked a fine line between heaven and hell, between sinner and saint, between endless love and hardened hatred.
Then he died.
And although his death didn’t include ceasing to breathe, he still found himself in a living hell.
Preppy had every reason to harbor resentment so deep there would be no coming back from that dark place. He could have let the devil turn him into one of those men who answers his demons without question.
I don’t want to say Preppy had been tamed. Tame is the last word I’d use to describe him. He’s too wild. Too unpredictable.
Too Preppy.
Taming Preppy would be like trying to put a leash on the wind.
However, he did have this eerie sense of calm about him. He became focused. Precise. If you looked past the smile and jokes, you’d see someone who held his cards close to his chest and knew when to play them.
Like now.
With the echoes of my son’s cry playing over and over again in my head I knew Preppy would come for me. He’d play those cards.
And he’d win.
They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
The way back will be paved with blood.
1
Dre
I was jolted into consciousness, my head slammed against the side of whatever confines I was trapped in. I opened my eyes, but nothing but blackness stared back at me. The occasional bump and hum of an engine made me realize I was in some sort of vehicle, but I wasn’t in the cab.
I was in the trunk.
My hands and feet were bound together. A gag was tied so tightly around my head the fabric prevented my mouth from closing, so I was forced to bite down on it.
My heart was beating a million miles a minute. I felt my fingers turned cold. I felt dizzy, and when I tried to swallow, I found that I couldn’t.
Don’t panic.
I took a deep breath and set a mental image of Preppy and Bo in my mind. An acute sense of focus took over. A determination to get out of that trunk and back to my family.
But how? Eventually, someone was going to open the trunk, I had to be ready.
I felt around with my fingertips and bare feet for anything I could use as a weapon but disappointment set in quickly.
It was empty.
Out of frustration and fear I pounded my bound wrists against the coffin on wheels, pausing when I remembered something.
“Andrea, how did the cat end up in the trunk of the car?” my dad asked.
“I dunno,” I sang innocently, twisting from side to side as my dad hit a button on his key chain, popping the latch. Mr. Wiggles hissed, springing out as if he'd been shot out of a catapult. He looked back at me with his own special brand of cat-like contempt as he pranced back into the house, no doubt to hack up a revenge hairball on my pillow.
“Well, don’t do it again, okay?”
“I swear I’ll never do it again.” I’d have to find another place to play bomb-shelter. A place that didn’t automatically lock when it shut.
“Good.” My dad nodded, seemingly satisfied with my promise. He bent over at the waist and yanked lightly on one of my braids. “Because I don’t think the emergency release latches were designed with cats in mind.”
Immediately after remembering my dad’s words I felt around with my fingertips, growing more and more frustrated with my bound hands.
I didn’t know where I was being taken, but I knew my time was limited, and if I didn’t act now, I’d end up on the wrong end of whatever plans had been made for me by whatever psycho was stupid enough to abduct me.
Preppy would find this asshole, and he’d stop at nothing to make sure he paid. That thought fueled me as I continued my search. My frustration grew. I flipped over onto my stomach and shoved my fingers down as far as they could go into the crease on the floor lining the backside of the trunk. I gasped with delight through my gag when my fingers hit something plastic. I grunted, reaching down further and further until I was finally able to fit my fingers through the loop.
It was now or never.
With my hand and feet bound I was going to have to roll out of the trunk. It was possible I could be hit by another car or die on impact. I pushed that thought asi
de and again focused my attention on the only two people in the world who mattered.
I tugged on the loop with all my might.
Nothing happened at first, but when I tried again, pulling and tugging until I felt a blood vessel pop in my neck, the roof above me finally lifted. The warm wind flew in and all around me, blowing my hair into my face. The sultry night air instantly beaded up on my skin.
There was no time to count to ten. No time to think of the consequences. An open trunk wasn’t something that would go unnoticed.
And it didn’t.
The car came to a screeching halt while I was mid-roll, positioned over the rim between bumper and trunk. I went flying into the air, spinning several times over. The flesh on my arms and legs felt as if they were on fire, burning as my skin made contact with the road, dragging against the sharp shell embedded in the asphalt.
When I finally came to a stop, brake lights filled my blurry vision. I heard a car door open followed by the sound of steps on the pavement growing closer and closer.
Preppy
I was talking to King and Bear about the future of the Granny Growhouse operation by the bonfire when Bo came up behind me and pulled on one of my suspenders. “Hey buddy,” I started, stopping when I saw the tears staining his face. I crouched down, so we were eye to eye, dropping my beer onto the grass. He may not have been able to speak, but I never had a problem understanding him, and right then he was telling me that something was very VERY wrong. “Is it Mommy?” I asked, my heart hammering in my chest.
Bo nodded and grabbed my hand, dragging me into the house where a wine bottle was broken on the floor, red wine seeping into every nook and groove, canals of red spread throughout the kitchen.
I hadn’t realized Bear and King had followed until King spoke. “What the fuck happened?”
“I’m not sure, but I know that we gotta fucking go,” I answered. I turned back around to Bo. “Did you see who took her?” I asked as calmly as I could without trying to alarm him more than he already was. Bo shook his head and rubbed his hands all over his face and head. “He wore a mask?” I asked.
Preppy, The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater: A King Series Trilogy Page 42