by Kelly Utt
“I don’t know. He did seem happy to see me again and eager to be in my life after all this time. Travis was with me when I received the call this morning to come to Max’s school, so he rode along. I’m not sure what you’ve heard, but it turned into a huge mess in the principal’s office, complete with John attacking Travis from behind and trying to choke him out. Travis is a lot younger and in much better shape, so needless to say, that didn’t go very well for John.”
Lana and her daughter laughed together. They couldn’t help it. It was as if their bodies needed a way to release some tension.
“Mom, you’re being awfully nice about all this. I have to admit, it’s not what I expected.”
“Bea, I’ve known for a long time that you were wrestling with something big. Sometimes when we don’t know the truth, our imaginations get carried away and we come up with possibilities that are even worse than reality. You have no idea the range of things that have gone through my mind.”
“But I killed a man. It’s horrible. There’s no greater sin. It’s been excruciatingly difficult to live with myself. If it weren’t for Max, I would have already turned myself in.”
Lana stood up and had Bea scoot over, then she climbed into bed beside her daughter, wrapping her arms tightly around her. “Bea, my darling, you are a good person. I know that about you without any shadow of a doubt. I know it like I know my own name that there’s more to this story, and that you had a good reason or you never would have done it.”
Now the tears came, forceful and fast, as they ran down Bea’s face and onto the sheets below. She didn’t deserve this kindness.
“That’s almost exactly what Travis said earlier when I tried to tell him,” Bea mumbled between sobs. “Why do the two of you believe in me? You don’t even know why I did it.”
“Because we don’t have to know why you did it,” Lana said. “We know you. And that’s more than enough.”
Bea put one hand over both of her eyes as she continued to cry hard. She hadn’t known what her mother’s reaction would be, but she was so incredibly glad to be confessing to her now. She had carried this burden alone for so long. It was heavy. It was long past time to lay it down, one way or another.
“I’m here for you,” Lana said. “I know it’s difficult to relive and put into words. But I’d like to know what happened that caused you to do it. Will you tell me?”
Bea nodded her head, then used a few tissues from the nightstand beside her bed to dry her eyes. “The whole thing was traumatic,” she said. “I’m not sure if you can get PTSD from something like what happened to me and Max, but if so, I feel like I might have it. It has affected me in the most horrible ways. I’m not the same person I was prior to that day.”
“Go ahead,” Lana urged. “Let it out. You’ll feel better once you do.”
“Okay,” Bea replied. “Here it comes. Like I said, Travis had gone to the other side of the parking lot to get something out of his truck. The sun had just set, and it was getting dark outside. We were almost ready to head home, but Max had to go to the bathroom. He was still at the age where he couldn’t have been expected to wait for a long time once he said he had to go. It had only been a couple of months since he had turned four.” Bea let out a deep sigh before continuing. It was painful for her to explain and painful for her mother to hear. “The place was nearly empty, with just a few cars left. The bathrooms were housed in a small cinder-block structure near the overlook. The men’s restroom was on one side and the women’s on the other, divided by a single wall and a water fountain near the entrances. I didn’t think anyone else was around, so when Max asked if he could go in the men’s room by himself like a big boy, I said yes thinking nothing of it. I filled my water bottle and enjoyed the view of the pink evening sky while I waited.”
“Oh, no,” Lana said.
“I knew it would take Max a little while. Every part of the bathroom process was still clumsy for him. Not to mention, he was a happy little guy and often took his time, looking around and sort of playing as he went. He’d never encountered anything scary or truly dangerous. He was young and innocent at that time, depending on his parents and the other adults in his life to keep him from harm.”
“Oh, Bea,” Lana said as she held her daughter and leaned her head gently against the back of one of her shoulders. “I think I know where this is going, and it’s making me sick to my stomach.”
“Around the same time I began to suspect something was wrong,” Bea continued. “I heard the deadbolt on the inside of the men’s room door latch. I ran to it, praying that I’d heard wrong. The deadbolt was high on the door. There was no way Max could have reached it to turn the lock himself.”
“My God,” Lana said, squeezing her daughter tighter and tighter, tears forming in her eyes.
Bea was emotional, but she was committed to telling the story now. It was like ripping a scab off. Even though it was painful, she was determined to finish the job. It would bleed, but once started, it had to be finished.
“When I reached the door, I slammed into it with my whole body, but it wouldn’t budge. It was locked tight. I yelled Max’s name and began to bang on the door. For an excruciating few seconds, I heard nothing. The world seemed to have been thrust into slow motion. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but every fiber of my being told me that what we were encountering was danger of the highest order. I trusted my instincts to tell me what to do. I was ready for a fight. I didn’t have time to feel scared or to even think about hesitating. I had to get to Max.”
“Of course. How terribly frightening. Horrifying, really!”
“As I banged on the door harder and louder, I heard Max calling for me. He sounded alarmed, but not terrified. I took it as a good sign and hoped he had not yet been hurt. But I knew I couldn’t wait. I had to get into that men’s room. My minivan was parked nearby, so I ran to it, rifled through the back, and pulled out the only thing I had that could be used as a weapon: a wooden baseball bat. My mind was flooded with sickening scenes. I’d heard about the kinds of things that happen to little kids when child predators get their hands on them. I didn’t think I had time to call for help. As darkness descended, the place had cleared out. There wasn’t anyone within earshot. I didn’t think Travis would be able to hear me, so I saved my energy and focused on handling the danger myself.”
“Bea, I’m so sorry you had to go through such horror. And alone, no less. I had no idea your secret was anything like this. No parent should have to experience what you did.”
“I’ve never been more scared in my entire life,” Bea added. “It may sound strange, but as I walked back towards the bathroom with the bat in my hand, I talked to Daddy and asked him for help.” Bea began to cry a fresh round of tears as she remembered. “I looked up at the heavens and I asked my daddy to help me save my boy. I told him I didn’t know how any of that worked or whether he could actually lend his help, but I told him I needed him more than ever.”
“Oh, my dear,” Lana said through her own tears. “I don’t know how any of that works either, but I know your daddy loved you so much. He would have loved Max just the same. He had always looked forward to becoming a grandfather. And if he could have helped in any way at all that day, I know he would have.” Lana sobbed now, too. “Oh, my sweet girl. And our sweet, innocent little boy. Tell me the rest of the story.”
Bea continued, eager to get to the end. Her confession was almost done. “As I approached the bathroom,” she explained. “I saw a man walking towards me. Everything about him was revolting for some reason. I’m telling you, I had a visceral reaction to the sight of him like I’ve never experienced before. He looked deranged. At minimum, he was mentally ill, but I suspect he was also some kind of addict. He had short, brown hair and a long, narrow face. His neck seemed somehow too long, almost like depictions of aliens I’ve seen. The vile man was holding a young boy over his shoulder. There was a delay as I worked to process what was happening, because the child was wearing differe
nt clothes than Max had been that day. When the man saw me, he didn’t flinch. In fact, he appeared to strengthen his resolve. He leaned his head forward on his knobby neck and began to walk quickly towards an old Volkswagen bus that was idling nearby. The boy he was carrying faced the opposite direction over the man’s shoulder until suddenly, the child turned around and looked at me. It was our Max.”
Bea paused and blotted her eyes some more as tears rolled down her mother’s face. She took another deep breath, then continued.
“It was then that I truly realized the urgency of the situation. This man had waited in the bathroom for a child to prey on. And he’d had the wherewithal to immediately change the child’s clothing, thereby changing his appearance. That was a disturbing level of premeditation. We were dealing with a sicko bent on taking Max and doing God knows what with him. I rushed forward and, for some reason, I thought about wolves and how they go for the Achilles when they want to take out another animal. They know that if an animal can’t run away, defeating them becomes much easier. As I reached the man, I used the baseball bat to swing hard at his knees. I was hell-bent on stopping him from taking Max away. The man yelled out in pain and fell to the ground, releasing his grip on my son. From that point on, everything became a blur. Max ran to me. I remember scooping him up and holding him so tight. He leaned his little head down on my shoulder, unsure of what was happening but glad to be back in the safety of my arms. Still acting on instinct, I put Max into his car seat and like I explained earlier, I buckled one of the buckles. I was in a hurry, because I needed to get back and deal with the man before he got away, or worse, came after Max again.”
“Damn right you did,” Lana added. It was unusual for her to use such strong language.
“Even though it was all a blur, I was aware I was making a decision at that juncture. I could have gotten in my van and driven away. The man had been wounded and probably wouldn’t have been hard to find. I could have gone to Travis and together we could have called the police. Travis might have even been able to hold him until police arrived. But something inside me insisted that wasn’t an option. I knew I couldn’t leave him be. I didn’t know his history, but I knew I was in the presence of true evil. It made my blood run cold. I couldn’t leave that man free to snatch another child. When Max was secure, I closed the door to the van and walked to the back where the man was crouched on the ground, still holding onto his knees. It may have been a coincidence, but the wind began to whip up as I stood there. It blew leaves off the trees and created a rustling sound that echoed through the canyon below. I didn’t bother to approach the man from the front or to look him in the eye. He didn’t deserve that courtesy. I approached from behind, lifting the bat high and hitting it onto the back of his head as hard as I could.”
“Wow.”
“You have to understand, Mom,” Bea explained. “This man had his hands on my child. During the time they were locked in the bathroom together, I know for sure that he changed Max’s clothes. I don’t know if he touched Max inappropriately or did anything else that traumatized him. I wasn’t going to wait around and let a man like that go. Maybe it was the motherly instinct inside of me. I did what I felt was right and finally, the harrowing incident reached its crescendo. In a mix of determination and panic, I pushed and kicked the man’s body, rolling him over the side of the hill. He barely made a sound as he tumbled down the steep drop-off to the rocky landing below.”
There. Bea had said it all. It was out of her and spoken into the ether, a burden now shared by her mother.
What in the hell do we do now?
23
Lana and Bea were still holding onto each other, Bea gently blotting her eyes, when Susana Herrera returned.
“Miss Bea,” she said in her cheerful, sing-song voice. “You have a visitor. Is it okay for him to come in?”
“Really?” Bea asked. She hoped it was Travis. Now that she’d told her mom what had happened, she wanted to finish telling Travis, too. Maybe the three of them could come up with a plan together. Plus, now that she had some time to reflect on it, she was touched by the way he had stood up for her at the school office. She wanted to thank him.
“Really,” Susana confirmed. “He’s eager to see you.”
“Good! Send him in.”
Lana moved back to the chair as Bea propped herself up in the bed and did her best to smooth down the disobedient strands of hair which had become disheveled from laying down. Lana had never met Travis before and Bea looked forward to introducing the two of them. A meeting was long overdue.
Susana left the room. When she returned, it wasn’t Travis she escorted in. To Bea’s great disappointment, it was John.
“Here he is,” Susana announced happily, not understanding the implications.
“Hello, Beatrice,” John said in a dry voice. “And Lana.”
Susana exited the room again, closing the door behind her this time. Poor Susana. She was only trying to help.
Just great, Bea thought to herself.
“I assumed you’d be in jail by now,” Bea said to her husband.
John stood at the end of Bea’s hospital bed with his feet shoulder width apart and his hands crossed in front of his waist. It was the same peculiar stance he’d had in the school office earlier. It struck Bea as fake and pretentious. “No, I’m not in jail,” he said sullenly. “Would you like me to be?”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” Bea replied. “Don’t put words into my mouth, John Hughes. I’m not in the mood to fight with you.”
“Well, you seem to be feeling feisty this evening. What’s gotten into you?”
Lana bit her lip. Bea could tell her mother had a lot to say to John, but she would be respectful. John turned his attention to his mother-in-law. “Lana, would you mind giving me a few minutes alone with Beatrice?”
Lana turned to her daughter for the okay. “It’s alright, Mom,” Bea said. “Maybe you could find us some warm coffee?”
“Fine,” Lana said as she stood up and shuffled out of the room. “Shall I bring back three cups? Or just two?” she called back.
“Just two,” Bea said. “John isn’t staying.” Being assertive felt good.
When the door closed behind Lana, and Bea and her husband were alone, his demeanor changed. He sat down in the chair Lana had occupied and dropped the good-guy act. “We have a problem,” he said.
“Is it Max?” Bea asked, the concern evident in her voice. She didn’t want to sound weak, but the thought of something being wrong with her son pushed her in that direction.
“No, he’s fine, as far as I know,” John clarified. “This isn’t about him. At least, not directly.”
“Okay, then what is it? Because if you’ll notice, I have my own problems right now. You haven’t even asked me how I am.”
“Sure, you’re right,” John said in a rare admission. “I trust you’re feeling better now and that you’re going to be okay.” He didn’t reach out and touch Bea. Their relationship no longer had that kind of warmth. The only time John touched his wife anymore was in public when other people were watching. And even then, it didn’t happen often.
“They’re running some tests,” Bea explained. “They’re checking out my heart to be safe, but I sort of doubt it’s anything serious. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately, and I know stress takes a toll on the body. Maybe I’ll get lucky and the doctor will order me to a weekend at the spa.”
John laughed, so Bea did, too. Things felt different between them. Bea felt like she had crossed a line from which there was no going back. Seeing Travis and telling her mother what she’d done had been freeing. Regardless of how things turned out, she was feeling less trapped by John and her secret. At least, for the moment. She was well aware how life could turn again on a dime. But she began to think perhaps she and John could be friends.
“We could all use a prescription like that,” John said. “But seriously. I need to talk to you about something.”
“Okay,�
�� Bea said. “You have my attention. What is it?”
John leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll come right out with it.”
“You’re frightening me now, John,” Bea said.
“I know,” he said. He looked down at the floor as he spoke.
“What do you know? That you’re frightening me?”
“I know everything.”
“What in the world are you talking about?” Bea asked. Her heart began to pound again and she could feel her face getting hot.
“The video,” John clarified. “The murder you committed and the accusation that I’ve been helping you cover it up. It’s all true.”
Bea thought she would vomit again, although she didn’t know if there was anything left in her stomach. I don’t understand,” she said. “In Principal Maguire’s office, you said it was just someone trying to get a rise out of us.”
“What else could I say with the others there?”
“But…”
“You can cut the bullshit, Beatrice,” John said, his voice on the edge of nasty. “I’m telling you I know everything. I was there the night it happened.”
Bea couldn’t tell if he was serious or just trying to bait her for information. She had to be very careful. For all she knew, John was trying to gather information that could be used to blackmail her and keep her under his control.
“Are you recording this conversation?” Bea asked, out of nowhere. The thought had just struck her. She didn’t know who to trust.
“What?” John asked.
“You heard me. Are you recording this conversation?”
“No,” John replied. “That’s not what this is about. I’m just as guilty as you are of withholding this information. Like it or not, we’re in this mess together. Why would I record a conversation that implicates me?”