Toxic

by A. C. Bextor

  I smile down at her, kiss her forehead and tell her. “Alright, go to sleep. Don’t be scared anymore. Monsters are afraid of me. They always have been. I can protect you, so go to sleep.”

  “You’re not scared of them? You should be because Patrick says they bite.”

  All these questions leave me searching for the ‘off’ switch.

  “No, I’m not scared. I’m bigger. They’re scared of me.” I point to my chest as her eyes widen and she smiles.

  “Well, that’s good then, because you live here now.”

  “Goodnight, sweetheart. Get some sleep.”

  She smiles and says. “Alright, Neil, if that’s really your name.”

  Fuck, she’s too much. “Goodnight, Mace.”

  I walk to the door, turn off the light, and turn back to her, seeing she’s already closing her eyes for sleep. I was fooled by her though, she’s still chatty. “Neil?”

  “Yeah, babe.”

  Again she releases the arm I just covered and turns it into her face so she can study it again. “Sadey told me she’s going to marry Patrick, does that mean you’re going to marry me?”

  Damn, she’s cute, too. “No, babe, I’m not going to marry you. You’re going to find a wonderful prince and live happily ever after without any monsters lurking around your hallways ever again.”

  “Alright, that’s good.” She yawns, turns her back to me, and drifts off to finally find her sleep.

  ~~~~~

  I remember standing at the door, looking at her small body all curled up in her bed as she felt safe. I knew, from the first day I met Mace, I had a pull down deep and it made me want to protect her from every monster, imaginary or not, for as long as my body would let me.

  Now, look at me. Here I am, the monster, and I’m marrying the beautiful Princess today. At just five years old, she found her way into my heart and loved me in a way I never thought I could be loved.

  All that was before I ever even knew I needed her.

  “I don’t deserve her. Her good doesn’t make me good. I’m robbing her of all she really deserves.”

  I’m sick to my stomach as I still feel the evil course through my blood.

  Chapter Eight

  “They knew now that if there is one thing one can always yearn for¸ and sometimes attain, it is human love.”

  -Albert Camus

  I make my way to the back yard, remembering with adoration Sadey and Hem’s wedding. They vowed to love each other till death may they part, right here in this field of grass by our lake that sits across from our treehouse.

  There is no question Sadey kept her word. Even thinking that death did part them, she never stopped waiting for him to come back to her. Hem never stopped loving her either. He sent himself through a coaster of emotions during that time as well, second guessing if he was doing right by his wife and son in staying away as long as he did.

  Ultimately, though, it was Ace that made the decision for him in coming back to Peril and staying longer than needed. This forced Hem to make the decision to face the demon that awaited him here. It all worked out between him and Sadey. Goes to show that when you’re meant to be with someone, there’s no other person for you and nothing, not even time, takes them away.

  I wish I knew, without any doubt, that I’m meant to be with Mace. I’ve loved her since I met her, in different measure of course, but since I met her nonetheless. She’s my heart, my soul, and the witness to my life that’s full of both regret and joy. I just don’t want to poison her.

  Looking at the treehouse I breathe a sigh of longing. After I left Florida, but before I joined Peril, had to have been the most peace in my life. I was living with the Cash’s and technically working for Lynda.

  Within two weeks of my return, I had her ‘fix it’ list complete. Just a few days later, I had a new one.

  To this day, I believe that woman broke a fuck of a lot of shit on purpose to keep me going day to day until school started, so that I would finish out my Senior year of high school and graduate, even if just barely.

  It meant something to her that I finished school. To be honest, I couldn’t have given a rat’s ass about it. I had told her I didn’t need a piece of paper to make me feel any smarter. She disagreed stating that although it wouldn’t make me smarter, it would remind me of a commitment to myself that I fulfilled in completing the years in school. Looking back at it now, I smile. I have the paper somewhere, but it still doesn’t make me any smarter, I was right. It also doesn’t prove to me any commitment; I was right about that too.

  “Rest in peace, Lynda, you’re a beautiful woman that has a soul that never sleeps.” I feel her here watching me now, and my heart hears her whispers, telling me to get my shit together and get to the church on time to marry her daughter.

  There’s a large oak tree in the backyard. This is where Hem and I built this monstrosity of a treehouse for the girls. They used to pretend it was their castle, and that Hem and I were the court jester’s.

  Fuckin’ girls.

  It was an unusually hot as hell afternoon in late September when we built it. School had started; the girls were entering their first year. I was a senior and Hem was a sophomore. We were conned into spending the weekend with the girls, ‘sharing times and creating memories’, Lynda said.

  I remember it alright, most miserable fuckin’ two days of my life. Between Sadey’s singing, Hem bitchin’ at me, and Mace following my every fuckin’ step, I longed for adult company. Preferably naked adult company.

  ~~~~~

  “Old MacDonald had a farm,

  E-I-E-I-O.

  And on his farm he had some chicks,

  E-I-E-I-O.

  With a chick, chick here,

  And a chick, chick there,

  Here a chick, there a chick,

  Everywhere a chick, chick.”

  Throwing a sweat soaked towel onto the grass I start to lose my shit. “Patrick, can you shut her the hell up? Jesus, she’s driving me nuts. It’s hot as fuck out, so I’m already agitated and I’m about tired of hearing her sing the same fuckin’ song over and over.”

  Sadey stops her verse to glare at me and snap. “Why are you so mean? It’s a song, everyone loves it.”

  “No, Sadey girl, Neil doesn’t. Grinch doesn’t have a heart.”

  Thanks for the backup, Patrick. You fuckin’ asshole.

  He knows damn well he can’t stand the song on repeat either, but he’s so taken with that five year old that he would probably sing it with her and probably does when I’m not lookin’, too.

  Pussy.

  Mace jumps in at my defense and gets close to Patrick, as if she’s going to attempt to whip his ass. “Yes, he does. Don’t talk about him like that.”

  Today is a day for Mace to enjoy, not have to defend my quick temper. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

  She moves herself into my side, clinging to my sweat soaked jeans. “You don’t have a heart like the Grinch. The Grinch is mean, green, and you’re nothing like him.”

  “Maybe just a little.” I say to her, as I wipe the sweat from her brow. I know by now she’s got a hard head and won’t stop defending me to the others if I don’t tell her I’m alright.

  Finally, Patrick is losing patience; which is rare when it comes to them. The girls have been loitering around here all day, and now they’ve started to grow bored. These girls have a notion that we’ll be done building this castle in just a few hours. They’ve done their best to stay out of the way, but five year old girls are apparently not accustomed to telling time and they’re starting to pester.

  “Either you two go in the house and play or sit the fuck down and be quiet. You want a castle? Then you need to do as I tell ya, damn it.”

  Smooth, Patrick. Real fuckin’ nice.

  Mace flinches at his words and Sadey’s mouth is hanging open in shock. She’s heard Patrick talk like this, but his anger was never directed solely at her or Mace.

  Mace doesn’t miss a beat, and she has no intent
ion of leaving me unless I personally dismiss her - and do it nicely. “I’m not leaving. I’m helping. Aren’t I, Neil?”

  “Yeah, baby, you are. If you really wanna help me, though, go in the house and get me a glass of lemonade from your mom, okay?”

  “Yep. One lemonade comin’ up.” She immediately turns and heads toward the house.

  God, she’s fuckin’ easy to please.

  Sadey on the other hand … not so much. She doesn’t stray far from Patrick’s sight and is insistent on being near him even in his foul mood. “Here, Patrick, you need these.” She reaches her arm out to him, trying to hand him a box of nails for no reason other than she’s attempting to earn her spot back here with us by trying to be helpful.

  “What the hell did I just tell you? I said sit down Sadey, you’re going to get hurt, damn it. Now sit your ass down!”

  He’s finally passed pissed, and there’s nothing I can do to stop his anger at this point other than to look at her and wink, telling her, without words, that it’s not her he’s so pissed at.

  Tears brim her small green eyes and her pale and freckled face flushes. Before I can think of anything to say to make this situation better, she pulls the box behind her head and with all her might she throws them directly at Patrick - hitting her target with exact precision. The box meets the side of his head and instantly blood drips from its surface. He’s on his ass within a few seconds.

  Fuck, I want to laugh, but now isn’t the time.

  Once Sadey sees what she’s done she’s rushing to his side, wrapping her small arms around his neck as he holds his head in pain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t be mad. I’ll go in the house. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad.”

  I shoot a quick glare to Patrick, warning him to not say a fuckin’ word to her that he will regret. He doesn’t soften, but through his gritted teeth he tells her. “Get inside right now and wait for me there. Take Scotch too, he’s going to get hurt if he continues to run around out here.”

  She turns away from him with her shoulders sunken in defeat. “Alright, I’m going.” All the way into the house we can hear her hiccupping through tears, not because she’s upset about being sent away, but likely because she knows she hurt Patrick.

  Once she’s out of eye sight, Patrick and I share a look and continue hammering the floor to the house. We’re about done with it and make a plan to hoist it up into the tree, but not before hearing and seeing a very angry Warren towering above our seated position.

  “You’re both fuckin’ animals, you know that? Sadey’s in tears, Patrick. She told me you cursed at her. What the fuck do you think you’re doing talking to her like that? Her father will be paying me a visit, and I think I’m going to let you deal with him.”

  “Warren you got no clue what you’re even talking about. So, stop wasting my time. I’m losing daylight here.”

  “Right. Losing daylight is so much worse than losing the respect of a young child. No idea why she finds you so fascinating. Her mother could just as easily take her to the fuckin’ zoo and find her a gorilla to talk to and it would be of a more intelligent conversation.”

  “Fuck you, asshole.”

  “Nice, Patrick. This is the only warning you’re getting, so you better go easy on the girls. You wanted to build this, fine it’s whatever, but don’t treat them like they’re your personal slaves.”

  The asshole turns to me with that last jab. Mace must have informed him of the lemonade I asked her to fetch me.

  “Got it, you done?” I shouldn’t disrespect him, but he’s disrespecting Mace – his daughter - by naming her a slave under any circumstance, and that’s not okay with me.

  Fuckin’ asshole.

  He glares at me, shakes his head, and mutters to himself. Before turning and walking away he adds, “Patrick is corrupting you and you’ve just been here a few of months.”

  I don’t respond. I just keep working, hoping he’ll go away.

  God, he’s such a dick.

  After the asshole leaves Patrick and I agree, we need a break. The heat has consumed us and it’s gotten to the point we can hardly breathe. We head inside and before he closes the door behind us we can hear Lynda and Warren arguing in the living room.

  She’s pleading with her husband not to lose his cool. “He’s a good boy, it’s just a phase. Have some patience. Warren, please. For me?”

  Warren snaps back. “No, he’s an idiot, just like his father was.”

  They’re talking about Patrick. Still no love lost between Warren and Patrick I see.

  “Are you going to medicate with vodka all day, Lynda, or are you going to get some shit done around here?”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “Yeah, see that. Your fuckin’ eyes are glassed over and you have yet to get your ass in the shower. You are quite the busy lady. I’m outta here. I have to get back to the office. Got shit to do, not all of us can soak in our drink and build tree houses every damn day. Some of us have to pay for the good shit you like to swallow.”

  She doesn’t say anything that we can hear. She just stands still until he leaves the room and storms out the front door.

  It’s not my place to console her, rather it’s not any of my business, but he’s just pissed me the fuck off. This woman is an angel and he should kiss the ground she walks on, not treat her less than he would a guilty inmate on death row.

  I walk into the living room without Patrick, leaving him fumin’ behind me checking on the girls, who are fumbling around as they are fixing glasses of lemonade.

  As I reach Lynda, immediately she rubs her face to rid her cheeks of fallen tears. She straightens herself in an attempt to look less broken, but she's failed before she's even tried - her eyes show ruined.

  Catching her off guard, I move into her and grab her tight around her shoulders, bringing her to me in a tight embrace against my chest. She hesitates and fights me a bit, but not for long. Within only a few seconds, she melts into me and lets her tears consume her.

  Rubbing the back of her head, I try to console her with words of comfort. “He’s an ass and he’s having a bad day. He didn’t mean it.”

  “Neil, he doesn’t like my son. It’s not Patrick’s fault, he didn’t do anything to provoke it.”

  “I know, people can be vicious without thinking of how they make others feel. Believe me.”

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. You have gone through far more trouble in your life than any of us ever have.”

  Giving her one last squeeze, I release her and let her collect herself before a sure to be storming Patrick comes in and creates havoc on an already touchy situation.

  With this thought, I turn around to see Patrick standing at the door looking at his mom with utter sorrow. Once he sees I’ve let her go, he walks to her and cradles her in his arms just as I had done a few minutes ago.

  Quickly, she pulls from him, willing herself not to cry. She moves her palm to his face and he stills under her stare. “You’ve got your father’s face. You’ve also got your father’s temper. Don’t continue to goad him, honey. It only makes him angry.”

  “He shouldn’t ever take that out on you, Mama. If he wants a match, he needs to keep his anger directed only at me. I’m the one he hates, not you.”

  Before she can respond Patrick turns to me. “Let’s go, the girls are outside sure to be playing with tools soon. Let’s get this fuckin’ treehouse done, alright?”

  “Sure, man.” I move my eyes to Lynda, who is walking back in the probably gearing to fix herself another drink. “You alright?”

  She takes the last swallow from her present glass of self-therapy. “I’m alright. You boys go make those little girls their castle so you can protect them from all those bad guys.”

  I don’t smile; I know she’s not talking about imaginary villains. She’s talking about men like her husband. I don’t want to make her any more uncomfortable by discussing that with her out loud.

  I nod and follow Patri
ck back outside. Sure enough, Mace has a hammer in her hand and Sadey is holding the nail. She’s about to lose her thumb and doesn’t even know it.

  ~~~~~

  It may have taken us a few weeks to finish that damn castle, but we did it. The girls never tired of playing in there. They had stolen a few of Lynda’s household items and had it decorated the way they wanted it, with curtains and all. All that fall Patrick and I watched them haul toys, food, and blankets up there. It was their home away from home and no one was going to tell them how to live in it.

  When something inside didn’t meet the ‘Standards of Sadey’ she never hesitated to knock on Patrick’s door and boss him into fixing whatever she wanted fixed and he, even though he bitched and complained the entire time, always did it for her -without hesitation.

  The next summer Sadey had written a formal “thank you” letter to Patrick and I both for building her ‘dream house’. It was the sweetest thing I had ever seen - until the end of the note.

  After Sadey posted several ‘XX OO’, she then requested that we build two cars. A pink one for her; typical. Mace was to have a red one, but it wasn’t to be near as cool as her pink one. Hem denied the request, of course, breaking it to her gently. She accepted the answer because she loved him and believed he always knew best.

  Chapter Nine

  Nothing, nothing mattered, and I knew why. So did he. Throughout the whole absurd life I'd lived, a dark wind had been rising toward me from somewhere deep in my future, across years that were still to come, and as it passed, this wind leveled whatever was offered to me at the time, in years no more real than the ones I was living.”

  -Albert Camus

  After reliving that treehouse debacle, I remember I’ve got other places to be today. There’s a hotel here in town. I haven’t been back since I helped Patrick with his virginity ‘problem’ as he called it. I was determined not to allow him to make the same mistake I had made in losing it to an older woman - for money. Not that I regret the act of losing my virtue at that young age, but maybe just the circumstances surrounding it.