A Lethal Legacy

by P. C. Zick

  Their personalities always clashed, but I had never really noticed the physical differences. They shared some similar features, like the receding hairline and the sandy blonde hair turning a dusty gray; just enough features in common for someone to know they were related. However, over the years, those similarities had taken different courses.

  Both were tall men although Philip was slightly taller now, as my father seemed to be shrinking before my eyes. Philip wore a dark sports jacket with a pressed white shirt and bright red tie. His polished loafers provided a stark contrast to the dull working shoes that covered my father's feet. My father had worn his best flannel pea coat for the occasion, but it looked old and worn next to Uncle Philip's flashy attire.

  I noticed the different expressions on their faces as I approached them. My uncle carried the smile of victory while my father looked at me through squinted eyes and curled lip. I imagined he would have rather been out with his cronies sucking down a few beers and bragging about his son than actually being there in person with me.

  My father had never gone to college and began working in the automobile factories right after high school. Eventually after the Willow Run plant between Ypsilanti and Detroit began making automobiles instead of bombers after the war, Stanley managed to make it as foreman. However, my parents had never known the kind of success that had come so easily for Claire and Philip. My father didn't know how to manage his money, or he would have moved us from our small boring tract house years ago. Instead, he ended up squandering many paychecks at the racetrack and local bar.

  "What a game, Ed!" My uncle slapped me on the back heartily. "You really showed those bastards who's boss."

  "Philip!" Aunt Claire said. "Watch your language! People are listening."

  "Really, Philip, keep your voice down," Aunt Susan said.

  "Who cares? My nephew here just played the greatest game ever played in this town, and I'll say what I want. Right, Stan?"

  My father just grunted and begrudgingly held out his hand to me. "You did all right, son. I still say you're crazy not to take that scholarship." My father could never pay me a full compliment.

  "Dad, please." I didn't want to discuss my future right there in the lobby of the school.

  "Stanley, leave the boy alone," my mother said while reaching up to give me a kiss on the cheek. "I'm very proud of you, Edward."

  "Thanks, Mom." I smiled down into her hopeful face and winced when I noticed the moth hole on the collar of her best winter coat.

  "You're the bestest and mostest, Ed." Aunt Claire overshadowed my mother's small frame as she came into view and grabbed me for a big bear hug. The collar of her fur coat brushed my nose causing me to sneeze.

  "Bless you," she said.

  "Whadda ya say, Cuz!" Gary came out of the crowd toward me with two girls on his arm. "Great game!"

  "Thanks, Gar." We shook hands grinning at one another. Even though Gary would have to suffer through Philip's remarks about my game during the next few days, Gary was genuinely proud of me. We always banded together against the idiosyncrasies of our parents in order to survive.

  "Bye, Gary. See ya later, I hope." Gary's girls went off giggling and whispering as we walked outside toward Uncle Philip's Cadillac parked in front of my father's plain black Ford.

  After our celebratory dinner, the two families came back to our house for coffee and cake. Philip and Claire rarely visited us because of our small, cramped home, but tonight we went to a restaurant in Ypsilanti, so it only made sense that we come back to our house instead of driving into Ann Arbor to the large sprawling home of the other Townsend family.

  Gary and I took a long walk around the neighborhood to get away from the badgering of our parents. Since both of us were only children, in our presence our fathers wouldn't leave us alone. When Philip and Stanley began drinking whiskey, we both knew the assault on our shortcomings would be substantial.

  "Have you ever gone all the way?" Gary asked me when we had been walking only a short while.

  "With a girl?" I asked.

  "Of course with a girl, dummy, what else?" Gary punched my shoulder while smiling at me.

  "Have you?" I wanted to avoid answering as long as possible.

  "I asked you first, but yeah, last weekend."

  "Who?" I asked.

  "Just some girl from school. Cindy's her name. Been all over me all year long, so I thought, what the heck. What about you?"

  "Not all the way," I said.

  "But close?"

  "Well, I guess. I know I've wanted to go further, but it never happened. So how was it?"

  "That's the thing." Gary paused and looked at me sideways. "It wasn't any big deal," he said.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean I can't figure out what the big deal is. I never really cared if it happened or not. I was just curious, and it seemed to mean so much to Cindy, but then nothing."

  "You mean you couldn’t do it?"

  "No, I could do it, I just didn't feel much of anything."

  "Well, maybe it's just Cindy. You're not in love with her or anything like that, are you?"

  "No, of course not. She's more persistent than most of the girls I know. Ed, it's like I . . .,” Gary let out a long sigh and then began sprinting the rest of the way back to my house.

  I followed him wondering what he had been about to say. When I arrived home, I didn't dwell on it for very long because Philip and Stanley, both drunk, had begun arguing about their parents. Aunt Susan decided to drive back to her home in Grosse Pointe before we got back from our walk, disgusted no doubt with the behavior of her brothers.

  "You're the bastard that put our mother away," my father yelled at Philip.

  "Someone had to; she was nuts," Philip yelled back.

  Stanley tried to grab Philip's collar, but the whiskey was stronger, and he couldn't lean forward enough to take hold.

  "Let's go, Philip; you can't settle this tonight." Claire urged her husband toward the door. "Gary, give me a hand, your father's been celebrating a little too much tonight. Thanks, Marge, for having us over. I'll call you," Claire yelled over her shoulder as she led her husband out the door.

  "Leave me alone. Let that pansy of a son do something for a change," Philip yelled as they stumbled to the car.

  "Gary, drive us home," Claire said as Gary took the keys from her hand.

  He quietly slid behind the steering wheel of his father's large vehicle. "My pride and joy," Philip often called it. I looked out the back door and waved to Gary who looked straight ahead, not noticing me. He waited for his mother to secure his father in the back seat before putting the car in reverse and backing out of our driveway.

  I tried my best to give Kristina a sense of what it had been like growing up with a father like Philip Townsend during the 1950s without revealing everything. Gary remained silent.

  "Kris, try not to blame your father. He did what he thought was right at the time," I said.

  "What are you talking about? How can I not be pissed off knowing my father signed away his rights to an alcoholic mother who hated me?" Kris jumped up from the couch and walked deliberately to the balcony doors with clenched fists.

  Gary woke up from his trance and followed Kris, and I watched as the father and daughter, so alike physically, yet worlds apart emotionally, went out onto the balcony. I saw Gary speak quietly to Kris. She jerked her head back to look at her father. Then she shook her head with a sardonic grin looking for a split second just like her mother.

  Gary continued to talk while Kris listened. I didn't want to intrude on this scene, even though I couldn't hear what they were saying. I let myself out of the apartment quietly and took a long walk around the block getting lost in a few art galleries and antique stores along Royal Street.

  When I finally returned, Gary let me into the apartment. He told me Kris decided to take a nap and recover from her flight. I thought t she had a lot more from which to recover, but I kept that thought to myself.

  "I
think we made a truce. Fortunately, she knows her mother and knows how unreasonable she can be at times so that made it easier for her to understand some things. I think she might be able to forgive me," Gary said with the first grin of the day.

  "I'm glad about that, Gary. I'm still worried about Kris though."

  "Why?"

  "She’s your daughter, but remember Pam and this Oscar guy raised her. Things might not always go smoothly now that she's back in your life," I said.

  Actually, I didn't tell Gary nearly half of what I was feeling. I didn't tell him about the nagging dread I felt ever since I arrived. The feeling had only intensified with Kristina's appearance. I kept my mouth shut because admitting it even sounded nutty to me.

  "She's going to stay here through Christmas, and then we're both going to Florida for the holidays." Gary, in his usual manner, decided to ignore my words of warning.

  "Can you imagine the celebration Claire and the rest will plan? We better warn Kristina about the Townsend women," I said as I put my arm around his shoulder and gave him a squeeze.

  "It's going to be all right now, Cuz, I know it. I'm going to get the chance to make it up to her, you know?" He looked at me as if asking a question, but soon Gary's old confidence appeared.

  "You'd better get ready for a night on the town with an eighteen year old girl. Are you sure you're up to it, old man?" Gary asked.

  "I can manage just fine," I told him as I sank down into the couch brushing aside my fears about Kristina for the moment. "It's you who might be out of practice."

  Gary wasn't the only one hoping for a second chance. It's just that I wasn't sure what it was I needed to take care of during this second go around with Kristina.

  I had a new topic for my journal that night before I fell asleep. A character based on Kristina's life seemed too tempting to ignore.

  She grew into a young woman never knowing what it meant to be loved. Many looked at her, many held her, many touched her, but no one ever broke through her hardened shell into her heart. It would take someone with patience and strength to give her what she had never known.

  CHAPTER THREE

  During the night, I heard something near my head as I lay on the couch in the living room. At first, I thought I had been dreaming so I lay there listening with my eyes closed, and then I heard it again. I reached for the lamp next to me. As light flooded the room, my eyes made an uneasy adjustment while focusing on Kristina standing in front of me with my pants in her hands and her hands in my pants. She quickly dropped them to the floor.

  "What are you doing?" I asked.

  "I thought these were mine. Sorry."

  "You thought your pants were in the middle of the living room floor next to where I'm sleeping?" I needed a moment to clear my head before dealing with this confusing story.

  " I said I was sorry. Go back to sleep." She started back down the hallway.

  "Wait a second, Kristina. What were you looking for?"

  "Nothing. I told you. I thought they were mine." She turned to leave once again.

  "And I don't believe you," I said in a voice I hadn't used since I left teaching.

  "What're going to do? Arrest me?" She held her wrists out toward me.

  "I just want to know why you tried to rip me off."

  "Look, forget it; I said I was sorry, didn't I? I'm short on cash, that's all, OK?"

  I looked at her bowed head and half believed she felt contrition for her attempted theft.

  "You know if you need the money either your father or I would gladly give you some."

  "I'm sorry, Ed, really." She looked at me once again with that trapped sense of fear – the deer caught in the headlights look – not guilty, just scared and frozen.

  "Listen, I've forgotten it already. OK, Kristina?" Somehow, even though she had been trying to steal from me, I felt the need for her approval and acceptance as I became mesmerized by her deep blue eyes. "Here, take this," I said as I handed her a fifty-dollar bill.

  "Thanks, Ed. You're all right." She came closer to accept the money.

  She looked so pitiful that I couldn't help but hold out my arms to offer comfort and assurance. She pressed herself against me until I could feel her breasts molding themselves into my chest. I forgot everything except for the sensation of a beautiful woman persistently pushing against me.

  "Ed, hold me, please. I get so scared sometimes," she softly mumbled into my neck. It felt as if she was trying to climb inside of me.

  I held her, caressing her back and rubbing her neck all the while becoming aware that her closeness to me had begun to create confusing sensations within me. She turned her face up to mine and began kissing me. When I felt her tongue slide inside my mouth, I came to my senses.

  "Kristina, stop. We can't do this, stop." I pushed her away from me. I looked at her in dismay as she brought her hand to her mouth and rubbed her lips.

  "You can't say you didn't like it, though, can you? I guess you don't have the same problems as Gary, huh? And, Ed? It's Kris, not Kristina." She had become the tough street kid once again, more like her mother than ever.

  "You will always be Kristina to me. I can't call you Kris. Sorry," I said.

  Her eyes filled with tears, and she turned away from me. She sat down on my makeshift bed and wiped her eyes.

  "Kristina, can you answer a question for me?" She looked up at me. "Just tell me one thing. Why did you come here?"

  "To meet my dad."

  "Yes, I know that's what you told Gary. But it's just you and me now. Why did you come?" I asked.

  "I came because I got kicked out of the house and there was a warrant for my arrest for breaking and entering, and I didn't have a dime to my name. But if you tell Gary, I'll deny it and say you're crazy. He's so happy that I've come here, I could sell him the Brooklyn Bridge, don't you think, Cousin Ed?"

  Her tone changed from a frightened seductress into a tough con artist right before my eyes. She still looked like Gary, but her physical demeanor had changed along with the tone of her voice. She tossed her long black mane behind her and held her head at a defiant angle. I tried to ignore the ample breasts she thrust out for my attention.

  "Listen, Kristina, drop the act with me. I'm not going to hurt you, but I'm also not going to let anyone hurt Gary."

  "Are you going to tell Gary what happened tonight?"

  "What happened tonight?" I asked as I sat down next to her. I playfully tugged at her hair, and she slapped at my hand.

  "That's the way you want to play it, huh?" She reached over and touched my face and looked at me trustingly.

  I leaned down and kissed her longingly and thoroughly. Shaken by the sudden emotion overpowering me, I lost sight of everything but this lovely, vulnerable woman sitting next to me so obviously in need of love. She returned the kiss with equal passion. When our lips finally parted, we sat and held each other, spent from the outburst that moved me to forget our age difference, our relationship, and our reason for being in this apartment.

  "Ed, have you ever been married?" Kristina finally asked me.

  I pulled away slightly and looked at her. "Yes, twice."

  "You're not married now?"

  "No, I've been divorced from my second wife for almost ten years."

  "How could someone as good as you not stay married?"

  I searched her face for a hint of sarcasm in her last words, but I found only a sincere woman asking a question that puzzled her.

  "Let's just say I'm not as perfect as you might think."

  "Gambler, womanizer, drunk? I don't think so."

  "No, it's much more complicated than that. Funny thing, I've never thought about it much. Sometimes I think I just didn't care enough," I said more to myself than Kristina.

  I pulled her close to me once again, and I thought about my first experiences with the opposite sex.

  Ypsilanti High School did win the state football championship in 1959, and I received many offers to play football at the biggest schools in Michiga
n, but I refused all of them.

  "Are you crazy?" my father would shout night after night.

  "Don't you want to be a success like your Uncle Philip?" my mother would ask. This question would send my father into spasms of coughing and yelling and spitting while fire engine red color rose from his collar to his forehead. It was the most emotion I had ever seen my father display.

  "Like his Uncle Philip! What the hell is that? He's going to be better than my brother. He's nothing compared to my boy." That was the closest I ever came to receiving praise from my father.

  Most of these discussions about my future ended then because my mother would spend the next hour assuring my father that she had meant no harm when she inferred that Philip had reached a level of success beyond his brother, Stanley.

  But compared with my parents, Philip and Claire had achieved tremendous prosperity, and I wanted to be nothing like either of them. With their bridge games and country club memberships, Philip and Claire's lives reeked of superficiality. In a way, their lives were even sadder than my parents' lives. At least Claire had some character and personality.

  Gary and I talked during our senior year of many things, but we never talked about the opposite sex again. Gary continued to date many different girls even though Cindy still pursued him relentlessly. She gave up her virginity to him, and she needed something in return for her sacrifice.

  Even when I managed to go all the way with my steady girlfriend, Sally, I didn't confide in Gary. My experience had been something very different from the description of his first time, and somehow I knew telling him about my own moment of ecstasy would make matters worse for him.

  After my first experience, I wanted to shout from the mountaintops, if there had been any in Michigan, that I had the most wonderful girl in the world. I had already given her my ring that she wore with strings of Angora holding it in place. We had talked about marriage; otherwise, Sally wouldn't even have considered allowing me to become so intimate with her. I certainly felt something for her, and I wanted to feel it again as soon as possible.