Pieces of it All

by Tracy Krimmer

  Harvey sucked his tongue against his teeth to wash the bitter taste of the coffee out of his mouth. "So this is it. This is what it's come to."

  "Looks that way. I'm sad, but you need this."

  His lip curled. "Prison?"

  "Yes, Harvey. You need to see what it's like on the other side of the bars. I've dealt with dozens of alcoholics and drug users. Both before and after jail. I can't promise this will fix you and make you realize what a wonderful person you are inside. You can do meaningful things in this world. The rehab center didn't work the first time, but this might. Maybe sitting day after day with people much more dangerous than you, and much worse off, will kick your recovery into gear."

  Had she not listened to him every single day when he poured his heart out? She hadn't lived his life. Maggie had no idea what it was like to only have someone pay attention to you in order to pick a fight usually ending in physical bruises or scars.

  "I know you lost your mother and my heart aches for you, but that tragedy doesn't make you who you are. I'm aware you don't have any memories of her, and all the memories with your father aren't so good. Once you start over, you can leave the past behind and make new memories. It's your choice, Harvey. You can choose which memories to hold on to, which ones to let go, and create new ones along the way."

  The knock on the door sealed his fate. Maggie reached over the table and held onto his hands, squeezing them tightly. The first tear fell in that moment. She stood up, leaned down and kissed Harvey's forehead. Her lips lingered, tickling his skin. "I'll always be here for you. Remember that."

  His eyes focused on a nail hole in the wall where a picture used to hang while Maggie answered the door. The steps of the officers echoed against the wooden floor. One of the officers said something to Maggie but Harvey just heard mumbling. The voices crowded his head, distancing themselves. The three of them talked about him as if he wasn't even in the room. He pushed his fist into his leg so hard he probably would leave a bruise. His body didn't know how to process the emotions overpowering him. Anger. Hurt. Fear. Defeat. Maggie was right. He wouldn't be able to walk freely among society with his photo plastered on TV.

  "Mr. Etheridge." The man's stern voice boomed, pushing into Harvey's mind and clearing the clutter. "Please stand and place your hands behind your back." He read Harvey his rights as the second officer put his gun back in the holster and cuffed him. His knees became mush as the officers led him to the squad car. Before getting in the car, he took one last glance at Maggie, who leaned against the door frame with her arms crossed. She reached her hand up and gave a short wave and wiped a tear from her eye.

  Chapter Forty Two

  Beth never thought she'd be knocking on Harvey's door, initiating contact with his father, the same man he despised so much and feared. The news story played in a loop in her brain, and she felt an obligation to try and help. Harvey made things seem so tense between him and his father, but if he realized how much hurt Harvey held inside, he couldn't deny help for his son. Parents didn't do that.

  A spitting image of Harvey, despite the obvious difference of weight, answered the door. The longer hair, deep eyes and commanding stance replicated everything about Harvey. He put his arm in the doorway to balance himself, crossing one foot over his ankle, a beer in the other hand.

  "Well, what'd we have here? One of you were plenty enough, but if Violet is open to another, come on in sweetheart. My room's down the hall." He belched.

  Oh, how disgusting. He thought she was a prostitute? "Um, no, sir. I'm here about Harvey."

  His eyes popped. "Oh! Harvey! Aren't you a pretty little thing? You seem too sweet to be one of Harvey's girls."

  The comment both offended and intrigued her. How many girls had been with Harvey? A different one every month? Year? Did he keep multiple girlfriends at a time? She pressed the questions out of her mind. She didn't want to know the answers, nor did they matter.

  "He ain't here."

  "I know, Sir."

  "Don't be calling me Sir, now."

  "What shall I call you?" Dirt bag, drunk, asshole, maybe?

  "I have plenty of names a girl like you could call me. Tell you one thing, don't call me late for dinner!" He slapped his knee, spilling beer on the floor.

  She didn't understand why the remark made him laugh. "Anyway," she continued, "I don't know if you're aware the police are looking him."

  "Honey, of course I'm aware. Don't you think they've been here already?"

  "I suppose."

  He tapped his fingers on the door jamb. "By the looks of you, I thought you'd be a little smarter." He took a drink of his beer, and scratched his stomach, giving Beth a view of his sweaty and hairy belly.

  She didn't like how the conversation thus far had gone, and improvements in their dialog didn't seem promising. She had zero expectations when she knocked on the door. Just hope, which was quickly fading.

  His dad moved his legs out of the way as Bullet pushed his way through. "What the hell, Bullet?" He kicked the little brown fur ball, and Bullet let out a cry.

  Beth gasped and immediately picked him up. "Why would you kick him? He's a defenseless animal!" She rubbed her hand down Bullet's fur and he whimpered. "He's really hurt." This clearly wasn't the first time Bullet had been kicked.

  Harvey's dad finished his beer and tossed it past Beth, hitting Bullet in the face. "Take the little shit. I don't want him." As Beth stood with her mouth dropped open, he added, "And if you see that other piece of shit, tell him not to come home either."

  "Bullet, honey, you're okay." He quivered on the seat next to Beth. "Here, sweetie. Sit on my lap," she offered, being careful when she scooped him up .

  Beth remembered Lucy bringing her cat to a vet in Rivertown. Hopefully, they could help him. Bullet whined in her lap, the fifteen minute drive taking far too long in Beth's opinion.

  As soon as she arrived, she carried him in. "Somebody, please help," she pleaded, skipping the people already in line. A technician came running to her and took a shaking Bullet out of her arms.

  "What happened?" The short, overweight tech asked.

  "He was kicked. Repeatedly. The owner handed him to me after he did it and told me to take him."

  "You're not the owner?"

  Beth shook her head. "No. My friend's dad is, and is also the one who kicked him."

  The tech felt around Bullet's body until he cried, followed by a small snap. "I'll get him back to the vet immediately. Please have a seat and wait."

  Beth didn't want to wait. She wanted to be told Bullet would be okay. She sat down on the couch against the window and glanced over at a woman sitting in the chair next to her, her young son on her lap. They nodded their heads in acknowledgment of each other. She grabbed a Dog Fancy magazine off the table and began to flip through, hoping for a distraction. As she waited, she skimmed every page of the magazine, not comprehending any of the words. Questions clouded her mind. Where could Harvey be? Why in the world did he commit armed robbery? Why did his father kick an innocent animal?

  Fifty-two minutes later the man Beth recognized as the vet from the animal fair came walking out of the double doors.

  "I'm Dr. Leavitt." He reached his hand out for her to shake. "You look familiar. Have we met?"

  "How's Bullet?" She didn't want to chit chat.

  "I didn't catch your name," he said, refusing to answer until he had more information.

  "Beth. Now please tell me. Is Bullet going to be okay?"

  He tapped his finger on his chin. "Oh, you're the young lady who helped out at the fair with Harvey."

  "Yes, I am. Now tell me how he is, Doctor."

  He glimpsed at the technician who greeted Beth when she first brought Bullet in. "Do we have an available room?"

  Beth put her hand up. "Not necessary. He didn't make it, did he?" She crossed her arms and hugged them close to her chest.

  "Please, let's go into a room." Dr. Leavitt touched Beth's back in sympathy and led her down the hall to t
he room on the end. It mocked a regular doctor's office, with white floors, an examining table in the center, and a sink in the corner. The only difference seemed to be the wallpaper of kitten paws and photos of animals.

  "Beth, Bullet is going to be fine. He's very scared right now. Nothing is broken, according to the x-rays, but he's in a lot of pain. I'm going to send you home with some pain medication, and something to prevent any infections."

  "Home?" The thought hadn't crossed her mind. Where was Bullet's home? Harvey's dad didn't want him; he made that loud and clear. Harvey was nowhere to be found. Even if she did find him, he'd probably be spending time in jail. She couldn't leave him at the vet, and if she dropped him off at the Humane Society, who knew what kind of a home he'd end up in. She saved him, so his home would be with her family. "Yes. Home. I'm off at school, but I'm sure my parents can take care of him while I'm gone."

  Dr. Leavitt held out his hand to shake hers. "You did the right thing by bringing him in. I'm sorry to hear about what's happened with Harvey." She didn't respond. "I let the tech know there's no charge for today. Please stop off at the front desk and sign some paperwork. Schedule a follow up for him in a week. A tech will bring him out to you."

  She could do that. The harder part was going to be convincing her parents to take Bullet.

  "You can't be serious, Beth. We're not taking in a dog." Beth's dad sat at the table, typing an email using his iPad. His fingers moved furiously, but without effort. The iPad was handy for his work, but it also meant he carried it around everywhere he went. Distraction was just a click away.

  Beth stroked Bullet's fur and scratched his head. "Dad, he needs a place to live."

  He kept typing, keeping his eyes on the screen. "He can live where he lived before."

  "Do you have any idea what kind of a house he came from? I witnessed his owner kick him. Kick him! Bullet can't go back there."

  He tapped the Send button, pushed Home to close it, and shut off the iPad. "Beth, you can't save everyone. I know you want to be the one people look up to and set this great example, but sometimes you must accept defeat."

  "Michael!" Her mom came into the kitchen, her arm still in a cast. "Beth only wants to help out."

  "By burdening us with an animal? We've never had a pet and I don't intend to now."

  Beth's mom sneaked over and pet Bullet. "And who did Bullet belong to, Beth?"

  She had promised her dad not to get involved with Harvey. Technically, she kept her promise. What type of a person would she be if she allowed Bullet to go back to a clearly abusive home? Dr. Leavitt assumed she was taking ownership. It was too late to change her mind. "He was Harvey's."

  With a push to the table, her dad rose, towering over her. "Harvey? Isn't this the same Harvey whose face is plastered all over the TV for robbing that auto store? Are you serious, Beth? What the hell has gotten into you? What kind of people are you hanging out with? Maybe you need to stay here where I'm able to keep an eye on you. You can get a job and wait to go to school."

  "Dad!"

  "Michael!" Her mom stepped forward and placed her hand on his arm. "Michael, let's be rational here."

  He turned his head. "Rational? This coming from the woman who lied to her husband and ended up mugged and beat up in a parking lot?"

  She pulled back. "Did you ever stop to think the reason people keep things from you is because of your irrational reaction? Beth never once said she was seeing Harvey again. She saw this poor dog being hit and stepped in to save him. Aren't you glad you raised a daughter who would help someone in need?" She watched her mom defend her with surprise and pride. Coming clean about school had brought out a different kind of woman.

  He picked up the iPad. "I don't want a daughter who ends up in a ditch somewhere because she feels the need to help every single person in the world. There's such a thing as being too helpful."

  She had to jump in. "I only went over to Harvey's to talk to his dad. I thought if he knew the things going on with Harvey, the two could reconcile and -"

  "And what? You'd be a knight in shining armor or something?"

  "No, Dad. Harvey needs help. He doesn't have a family like we do. His mom is dead and his dad's a jerk. He needs someone positive in his life." She snuggled Bullet close. "I'm not dating him. I don't plan to either. I've been seeing someone at school I really like and I think you'll like him, too. I want to do the right thing and help out Bullet. I'll take care of him when I'm back in the summer. I'll take full responsibility."

  His eyes dodged between Beth and her mom's. He didn't want to say yes. Every fleck in his eye registered the determination in Beth's and pulled at his heart, and his mouth wanted to form the words "no." Sometimes being the only child and Daddy's little girl had its perks.

  "Fine. But this is between you two." He sneered at Bullet. "I'm not taking care of this thing."

  Chapter Forty Three

  Two days later, Harvey arrived back in Grant. He wished the reason for his return was to reunite with Beth, but instead it was to meet his fate in the county jail. He hadn't met his bond, therefore he would remain behind bars and wasn't leaving anytime soon. He wanted to be free and just go back to rehab, but the best lawyer in the world wouldn't be able to prove his innocence. He couldn't even afford an attorney, so the state handed him to some stuffy asshole. The lawyer advised his jail time would be minimal - probably no more than three years, easy for the chump to say who wasn't going to prison. The fine he'd have to pay only added to the tab of bills he couldn't pay.

  He didn't care for the standard issue orange jumpsuit. Dangerous criminals who had to be removed from the streets wore this article of clothing. Harvey wasn't one of those. He liked to drink. Too much. He needed cash. Fast. He shouldn't be serving time with murderers, or even the hard core drug dealers. Yes, he admitted his guilt. Couldn't owning up to his mistake and requesting help lessen his sentence?

  Unfortunately, his lawyer informed him, he'd been given that option the last time. His community service and probation along with the rehab had been his chance. He'd been given the opportunity and as usual, fucked it all up. Those were the lawyer's exact words. "You fucked it up." How kind and helpful of him.

  Hearing his fate in the courtroom made him sick to his stomach. The room overflowed with people supporting - or not supporting - defendants in other cases. No one came to support him, not even Maggie. Though she turned him in, she vowed her friendship to him. She lied, or she would've been sitting on one of the benches behind the bulletproof glass separating the civilians from the criminals.

  The judge sentenced him two years (twenty-four months!) plus probation. Even though he wouldn't consume a drop of alcohol for two years, he also ordered him to attend a rehab facility - a newly, court assigned one. He wouldn't be reuniting with Maggie, and he still needed to find a way to pay back Nelson, and all other fees from court. He started his journey with holes in his pockets, and he'd end it just the same.

  They kept him in handcuffs as he left the courtroom. He made eye contact with a few of the people in the crowd, curious of why they were there. What did their relative do? Did they love them? Miss them? The reason didn't make a difference. Either way, they showed up, supporting them. They fit as a piece in someone's life, holding the puzzle together. He didn't have pieces anymore. They all broke apart.

  Beth held the envelope in her hand as she half listened to her professor discussing the branches of government. Her first year of college thus far she considered more of a review of her senior year of high school than advanced courses. Since the courses seemed a repeat of those she received high marks in her senior year, she didn't have to study much and was doing well. Sophomore year she would dive into subjects closer to her curriculum of education, and she looked forward to it.

  The envelope, addressed to her, listed the return address as the state penitentiary. Harvey had been there for a few months now. She hadn't thought of him much since she learned of his arrest, and when the letter arrived in the mail
just two days ago, it was the first she'd hear from him. She carried the letter around, apprehensive to peel open the paper. What did Harvey possibly have to say? In their short time together, he took her virginity, her heart, and her trust, all gone in a matter of weeks. Never in her life did she think she'd be with the "bad guy," and she fell for him. He didn't seem like trouble when they met. He came off as quite the opposite at first, a genuinely sweet guy with a tough life. She reveled in the protection and love he made her feel when together. When his refusal to be open ripped them apart, and he stole from her family, she began to see his true colors. She wanted to be the woman to save him, but she couldn't.

  When Mark came along, she finally realized she was capable of a real love. He wanted to be with her and it didn't scare her. But after a few months of dating, they both found they wanted different things. Mark wanted to focus on swimming, and Beth worked hard at school. They agreed to be friends, and they were still that months later. Very good friends.

  The professor dismissed them ten minutes later, Beth still holding the envelope in her hand. She pulled her jacket on, grasping the paper while she zipped up her coat. She gathered her books and left the building to head to her next class, stepping out into the crisp, winter air. Winter break was only a week away, and she was anxious to see Lucy, who was coming home as well, and her parents. She missed Bullet, too, and couldn't wait to take him on walks.

  She stopped in front of the library, admiring the stone building, each brick placed ever so perfectly, the simple word "Library" etched over the doorway. Stories lived inside the building, pages of words created to bring people inside of another person's world. Was it better to be in someone else's world rather than your own? Harvey had tried to recreate his life, but his story belonged to him and no matter what he did, he couldn't change his past, only his future.

  She held the envelope up one more time and knew the same was true for her. The cold air hit her face, and forced her to take a deep breath. Her hand shaking, she kissed the envelope, and placed it in the garbage can.