TRAPPED UNDER ICE (ROCKING ROMANCE COLLECTION)

by M. J. Schiller

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Beth! Beth!” Chad skittered along the slope, trying to manage a nearly uncontrollable slide. He could see her feet but not the upper half of her body because of the curves of the landscape. But when he came around the corner, he saw her sit up.

  She moaned. “Man! Every part of me aches!” She laughed.

  “Did you hit your head, ‘cause I’m not sure I’d be laughing after a fall like that?”

  “I’m fine. But you look terrible.” She giggled, reaching up to pull a leaf out of his hair.

  “Oh my God. You scared the shit out of me!” His words came out angry, but then, just as quickly, his tone turned remorseful. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She reached up to touch his arms. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine.” He sighed. “That was stupid of me to rush.”

  With his help, she got to her feet. She looked back up the side of the cliff. “Well, we got down here a lot faster.”

  “Yeah. The hard way.” He tried to get his bearings. “Well, I think we’ll be okay if we just keep heading downhill, toward the river.” He checked her over again. “But maybe we should have you sit down for a while.”

  “No, Chad. I’m okay, really.”

  “All right,” he consented begrudgingly. “If you’re sure. But this time, let’s take it slow.”

  “Okay,” she replied with a smile, reaching up again to rub some dried mud from his hair.

  “You’re crazy, ya know?”

  “Yeah. I know.” She stood on her toes to kiss him.

  ***

  When they got to the car, Beth could tell Chad was tired, so she offered to drive. After much debate over the wisdom of someone who had taken such a fall driving the vehicle, he finally relented, with Roger’s fury in mind, and climbed in beside her. He fell asleep almost immediately.

  It was more of a memory than a dream.

  He was in the room he shared with his brother, David. Both of them were listening to the noises coming from the living room of their small house. David was crying. As Chad watched, his little brother hopped out of bed and ran to the door. Chad, whose bed was closer to the door, jumped in front of David and blocked the way, spreading his arms wide across the door. David buried his head in Chad’s chest. Slowly, he brought his hands down around the younger boy’s shaking shoulders.

  Without warning, the door they were leaning on vibrated and at the same time they heard the nauseating sound of their mother’s body hitting the wall during a break in the shouting. Furious, Chad yanked on the doorknob and entered the hall, keeping David in the room with one hand.

  “Chad!” his mother screamed, her mouth already bloodied. “It’s okay. Go back to bed.”

  His father’s form towered over his mother, but the man didn’t even look away from her in his drunken rage. Chad’s stomach lurched involuntarily; he felt like he was going to be sick.

  “Chad!” she screamed again, desperate now, tears in her eyes. “Go back to bed. Please.”

  “Ch-Chad?” David’s trembling voice called.

  He turned to stare into his brother’s frightened eyes, the light from the hall seeping through the crack in the door to illuminate the boy’s face. He glanced back at his mom, and wished, as he had on too many occasions, he could be big enough to stop his father…he could be brave enough to kill him. Swallowing his deep sense of shame and uselessness, he did the only thing left to him. He pushed his little brother back inside the bedroom and closed the door on the shouting. He peered down again into David’s innocent face.

  He was only seven, but he scooped David up, footy-pajamas and all, and placed the boy in his own bed. He climbed in behind his younger brother, and they turned on their sides, pulling the covers up over their heads. He put an arm over David, trying to block his little ears from hearing the sounds emanating from outside the bedroom. Sometime later, David’s whimpering finally stopped and he drifted off to sleep. But Chad lay awake, listening and praying, well into the night, wondering just what set his father off this time.

  The second memory was as vivid as the first.

  He was ten, asleep in his bed, when a loud sound jolted him awake. He lay for a second, eyes wide, heart pounding, and then, quickly, five more cracks rent the air. There could be no doubt now. Chad always feared someday he would kill her, and now it had happened.

  He sat silently in the dark, tears running down his face. He had not been able to protect his mother and he hoped now his father would come and kill him, too. Amazingly, David stayed asleep. And then, Chad heard her voice, a strange, almost inhuman wail, and his mind spun madly.

  He didn’t know how long it was before he heard the sirens. He went to the window and pulled back the thin, dingy curtains that did nothing to keep out the streetlights. Peering down from the third floor, he saw people gathered outside, talking and gazing up at their apartment. Two police cars sat at angles in the parking lot, their lights on. He could hear the police radios squawking loudly, but didn’t understand what they were saying.

  A lady saw him in the window. Her hand flew to her mouth and she screamed something. A policeman, who was talking to the onlookers, barked something into his radio. Chad jumped back from the window, somehow thinking that the police were going to come for him. He heard the loud pounding on the stairs in the hall outside their apartment, and then fists were banging on the door, telling them to open up. David woke up with a start, sitting up in his bed and looking around in confusion. Like a zombie, Chad left the room.

  He could hear her crying in the kitchen even before he came to the doorway. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated over and over again. He crossed into the path of light spilling from the kitchen, and saw her lying over his father, blood everywhere. He wondered, idly, if he would have to clean it up like so many times before. As he stood staring, a policeman cracked the frame of their door with his first try. David started crying.

  Chad turned from the gory scene in the kitchen. He trudged down the hall to his bedroom door. “Let me in, Davy. It’s me, Chad,” he called dully.

  The crying continued unabated. He stood on his tiptoes to reach the corner of a picture frame and tilted it to retrieve something from the top edge. It fell to the floor, and he bent to pick up a somewhat straightened paperclip. He scooped it up and walked over to the door to stick it into the hole in the knob. He pushed and popped the lock. As the door opened inward, Davy came barreling out and wrapped himself around his legs. There was a bustle in the kitchen and they turned to see two police officers escorting their mother, who was handcuffed and covered in blood, out of the room. She turned to stare at them with an expression that wrenched at his heart, but she didn’t say a word.

  Then, his mind remembered the second day; the two tragedies forever linked in his brain.

  The phone had been ringing all morning. Chad decided, finally, to wake his aunt. After his mother killed his father and went to prison, his Auntie Mary had enough pity to sober up for the week it took to convince the court she would be a fit guardian. He begged his aunt, afraid the courts would split David and him up, and she relented, allowing the kids to come live in her apartment as long as they agreed to stay out of the way. She was no mother, after all.

  This particular morning, she was passed out, nude, in her bedroom with a man Chad had never seen before. The man was also passed out, wearing only a t-shirt. He heard the answering machine through the bedroom door, and knew there was an important message from the prison concerning his mother. The fifth time the phone rang he went in to try to wake her again.

  “Wh-what the hell? Chad! What have I told you about waking me?” She hastily pulled a sheet over herself.

  “But, Auntie Mary, there’s a call from the prison. Something about Mom. You need to call them.”

  “The hell I do! Now get out of here!” He didn’t move. She opened one eye. She was not a heartless woman, so seeing the concerned expression on his face, she said, “Okay, if they
call back, you can wake me.”

  David was watching cartoons, so Chad sat down where he was beside his aunt’s bed and stared at the phone. An hour later, it rang again. He shook his aunt, but she wouldn’t wake. In desperation, he picked up the phone, trying to sound adult.

  “Well, thank goodness somebody is there,” the disembodied voice said, cut-off mid-message. “As I was saying, we are trying to contact the next of kin for a prisoner, a…Donna Jo Evans. It says here we’re looking for a Chad Evans.”

  “Yes, I’m Chad.”

  His aunt stirred and again opened one eye, watching the boy.

  “Good. Well, sir, I regret to inform you that Donna Jo Evans was killed this morning in a fight involving a number of inmates...” Chad didn’t hear anything else. Tears running down his face, he simply dropped the phone.

  He woke with a jerk, startling Beth.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, a hand over her heart.

  “Yeah. I’m sorry. How far are we?”

  “I think we’ve got about forty-five more minutes.”

  He looked at his watch. “We might make it,” he remarked, grimfaced.

  It had begun to rain a half hour before. He stared at the rain running down his window, and listened to the sound of the windshield wipers as they kept their monotonous pace. Beth had turned on some quiet music, and he began, again, to drift back in time. Although it was years ago, he still remembered exactly how his aunt’s face looked when she heard the news.

  Seeing Chad’s distraught face, his aunt picked up the phone, still dangling from the dresser, a disembodied voice still rattling on. She sat up in bed; the man next to her groaned and yanked on the covers.

  “Hello? I’m Chad’s aunt. Would you please tell me what you just told him? He’s thirteen; I’m his guardian. Yes…oh, I see...” Her eyes grew wide as she looked at Chad. “Thank you…yes, I will.”

  That was the only time their aunt ever took them out for ice cream.

  The next morning, she was gone and she never returned.

  Chad dropped out of school and started a job at a grocery store. Being tall for a thirteen-year-old, he was able to convince the manager he was old enough for the job. Every day he would pack up David’s peanut butter sandwich, and every night he would help him with his homework. He had no friends, just Davy. And when Davy went to sleep at night, Chad’s guitar would keep the older boy company. The guitar was the only thing his dad ever gave him, and to it he gave his misery.

  One day, on the grocery store bulletin board, he saw a note about a band needing a guitar player. That was when he met Roger. And from that day on, Roger was his best friend.

  The same Roger that was going to kick his ass if he didn’t show up on time for sound check.

  Finally, Beth pulled up to the stage door and they ran inside. Pete was standing at the door with a gloomy look on his face. “You’d better hurry. He’s probably fit to be tied.”

  Beth and Chad literally ran on stage as they were about to begin.

  “Why, look what the cat drug in?” Roger began, but then noticing their appearance, he added, “What the hell happened to you two?”

  They stood panting, dripping wet, and muddy. “Hey, man, I’m sorry we’re late.”

  “Well, I’m guessing we’re lucky you even showed up, with Beth being here and all.” He winked at Beth.

  “Yeah. I...” Chad was dumbfounded by his nonchalance. A stagehand brought them towels. “Thanks.”

  “Well, come on. Strap your guitar on, buddy. Beth, you’ll sing with us, won’t you?”

  “Are you kidding?” She accepted with a smile. “Are you sure?”

  “Come over here. I’ve got a wireless mike for you. Besides, Chad’s been hogging you all day.” Roger slid his hand around her hip and gave her a squeeze. Beth glanced back at Chad in surprise. He shrugged with a smile on his face and began tuning up his guitar.

  Roger was about to begin when he noticed someone approaching from the back of the auditorium. When he got into the footlights by Joey, their pyrotechnics manager, Roger recognized him as Stan Mikas, their promoter.

  “Hey, Stan. What’s up?”

  “Hey, guys. Don’t let me interrupt.”

  Roger played the first few chords of “I Just Had to Have You Last Night.”

  With a grin, he began singing the words to Beth.

  “You we’re lookin’ so good with your miniskirt on

  I kept imagining you with your miniskirt off

  I know it’s been wrong for me to think of you

  But lately it’s just too damn tough.”

  Beth joined in, singing and playing around with Roger. She stroked his face, which he loved.

  “When you look at me that way

  I don’t know what to say

  I love him, you know I do

  But now with your come-ons, you just had to go

  And make me want to have you.”

  They both sang the chorus.

  “And I just had to have you last night

  You whispered my name as you turned out the light

  And now that it’s done, there’s no setting it right

  So my best friend and I are in for a fight

  ‘Cause I just had to have you last night.”

  Chad took the next verse, looking at Beth as he did.

  “You were lookin’ so good with your blue jeans on

  I was imagining you with your blue jeans off

  I know sometimes I should keep my hands off you

  But baby that’s just too damn tough.”

  Beth walked slowly, seductively toward Chad; for some reason, being with them on stage brought out a different side of her.

  “I know we’ve been seein’ each other for awhile

  But you still turn me on like you’re turning a dial

  I’m not thinking of him when I make love with you

  But being with him, what else could I do?”

  All three sang,

  “And I just had to have you last night

  You whispered my name as you turned out the light

  And when I am with you everything feels so right

  So, baby, let’s not go and get into a fight

  You know I just had to have you last night.”

  Beth stood between the two as if torn. Roger got up, walking toward her as he sang,

  “You’re his I know; oh, God, do I know

  But when I try to leave, my feet are just too damned slow.”

  Beth responded,

  “I want to do things I just shouldn’t do

  And you know it’s all ‘cause of you.”

  Not to be out done, Chad walked toward her, joining in with,

  “When you walk by my, heart goes berserk

  And certain body parts just start to work.”

  And they all three finished with,

  “And I just had to have you last night

  You whispered my name as you turned out the light

  And now that we’re done, there’s no getting it right

  Because I just had to have you last night.”

  The trio laughed and Beth gave them both a kiss on the cheek. Singular applause surprised them from the floor.

  “I love it. When are you going to use it?”

  “Tonight,” Roger said.

  “What?” Chad and Beth said in unison.

  Roger sauntered to the edge of the stage and continued talking with Stan as if they weren’t there.

  “It gives the song a whole new angle.”

  “I agree. A whole new energy. It’s hot. She’s hot. What label do you sing with, hon?”

  “Me?” Beth returned, stunned.

  Chad smiled. “How long have you been thinking about this?” he asked Roger.

  “Since St. Louis. What do you think?”

  “Well I think it’s great, but...”

  “And what about you, Beth? What would you think about doing this for real?”

  “What do you mean?”

&nbs
p; “Performing it live. Tonight, at the concert.”

  She laughed. When Roger didn’t join in, she queried, “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I’m dead serious.”

  She looked at Chad. “Were you in on this?”

  He lifted up his hands to express his innocence. “I swear I had nothing to do with it.”

  “Roger. Be serious. Do you know how many people are going to be in this auditorium tonight?”

  “A little under twenty thousand.”

  “Exactly. Twenty-thousand people who came to hear Trapped Under Ice, not Beth Donovan, lunch lady.”

  “Lunch lady?” Stan repeated in surprise.

  Roger ignored him. “Twenty-thousand people who came to be entertained, and Stan here says the three of us are very entertaining, right, Stan?”

  “Very.”

  Beth laughed again. “You’re crazy. I’ve never even performed before.”

  “What about the concert at the Old Cathedral in St. Louis?”

  “A choir Christmas concert, that’s hardly performing.”

  “It’s not? Didn’t you have a solo?”

  “Yes. And I was terrified. And it was in front of…what…a hundred people at best?” She glanced at Chad for confirmation, but Roger rolled on.

  “Well, I guess I was wrong about you,” he said with an air of disappointment. He moved to put away his guitar. “When I met you backstage in St. Louis, I thought you were one gutsy lady.”

  Chad chuckled. “Man, you’re good!”

  “That’s different.”

  “It’s all about facing your fears head on.”

  Roger had struck a chord. Beth had thought about this the whole way back from the winery. If she was going to try to make a go of things with Chad, she was going to have to let go of her fears. She hesitated.

  Sensing a weakness, Roger struck. “Come on, Beth. You know this would be a dream come true. You can’t pass this up. Besides, Chad and I will be right here. You’ll just be singing to us like you did a few minutes ago.”