Stinger

by Stephanie Brother

  “Everyone knew of us, by then, and were ashamed for us,” she whispers.

  “I still remember what she told me, too,” Mom says.

  “She called me a whore, and a slut, and a Jezebal and the original sinning Eve, and a bunch of other words, and told me to never darken her door with my bastard,” Mom starts to sniff, again.

  “I was so heartbroken, and not thinking clearly, I mean, I was so young back then, and I didn’t know the world was like this,” she cries.

  “I didn’t even get a flag to remember him by!” she says, suddenly, and then she buries her face in her hands, helpless against her memories and the sadness.

  I hug her, and she weeps again for her losses.

  When she pulls herself together again, she wipes her nose with a napkin, and goes on.

  “I didn’t have a choice, dear,” she says, her eyes tearing again.

  “I had no job, no prospects, and I couldn’t support myself on my own,” she says.

  “My parents were mortified, and almost disowned me,” she says.

  “For my own survival, I had to have an abortion, Beatrice, can you understand that?” she asks.

  I am shocked and stunned beyond words.

  My mind is reeling from her story.

  How could Gramma and Grandad have done this to her?

  “It’s why I love you so, so much, Bea, don’t you see that? How special you are to me?” she says, almost desperately trying to tell me.

  She’s gripping my hands tightly, and I can see she’s trying like hell to be understood.

  “Your father and I weren’t a perfect match, but the Lord gave me a perfect child, to make up for all the things I endured because of Derek, and my forbidden love for him!” she says, frantically.

  “Do you understand? Can you forgive me if I still can’t be above judging someone, anyone, for how their heart’s desire what they do?” she asks me.

  “I can’t throw any stones at you and Keith-David, or David-Keith, for that matter,” she says, knowingly.

  I look at her, shocked once more.

  “Yes, dear, I know. I know it every time I see you look at them. And, when they look at you!” she exclaims.

  “Just know that I won’t stand in your way, Bea! Your father might not be as open-minded as me, and I’m still an old fool, but I know what love is!” she hisses.

  “Don’t you ever lose it, not if you have half a chance to keep it!” she cries, hugging me tighter.

  “Ok, Mom, I won’t, I won’t ever lose it! I swear!” I promise her.

  We hug for a bit longer, and then Mom finishes her tea, making some small talk.

  “Don’t you have a party to attend?” she asks, winking.

  I nod, and gather my things, ready to drive over the Niles’ parents’ estate.

  The pink box stares at me, and I put it in my purse when I leave.

  Mom kisses me goodbye, and gives me another hug.

  “Remember your promise, Bea!” she says.

  “Bea happy, darling! Whatever that means to you! It’s your life, and you only have one!” she finishes.

  Mom closes the door behind me as I walk out.

  —————

  I look at the text messages on my phone.

  There’s a couple from Stinger, and some from Thumper.

  And, there’s one from a number I don’t recognize.

  “Let’s Talk, Honeybee” is all it says.

  —————

  I read the text messages from the twins:

  “HEY WHERE U B?”

  “PARTY TIME”

  “BIG NEWS LATER WE GO TOO WILLIE’S BAR”

  “HEY STINGER GOT BIG NEWS”

  and a bunch of others in the same vein.

  I call Stinger.

  He picks up on the fourth ring.

  “Hey, Bee! Great news! I’m the new quarterback for the Wasps! For real! Let’s celebrate!” he shouts over what is obviously a huge party in the background.

  “Wow! That is great news! Have you told Mom or Frank?” I ask.

  “Not, yet, but Thumper called them, and is trying to see if they can come by!” he shouts.

  “I just am leaving there, you want I should bring them?” I ask.

  “Sure! Just hurry up! There’s going to be an announcement on the television news at six o’clock!” he finishes.

  I hang up.

  I walk back inside, and tell Mom.

  She gets all weepy again, and praises the Lord a few times, before calling Frank in from the barn.

  “Oh, honey! I’m so excited!” she yells.

  Frank gives her a hug, then excuses himself to wash up.

  Mom goes off to freshen up as well, and I am sitting there waiting.

  It’s a beautiful evening, so I go outside to watch the sun set.

  —————

  I call the number I don’t recognize.

  But, I am pretty sure I know who will answer.

  —————

  Thirty minutes later, Frank and Mom and I are on our way to the Estate Party.

  I drive carefully, as they chat excitedly about Stinger getting the chance to play quarterback.

  It’s a big opportunity for him, and would surely put him in line for the NFL draft when he graduates at the end of the year.

  —————

  My mind is still replaying the conversation I had with Mr. Norton.

  In the dusk, with the light waning, it’s all I can do to steer the car.

  My instincts are to tell Frank and Mom, but Norton told me in no uncertain terms what the consequences of speaking to anybody about our conversation would mean.

  At the last minute, I curse myself for not paying attention; for being too distracted to avoid the deer that runs directly in front of me.

  I spin the steering wheel, and hear the tires screech as I brake, hard, and I hear Frank shout something, and Mom screaming and then I am screaming and then there is blackness…

  —————

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  STINGER

  Everyone is still slapping me on the back, and Thumper is talking to Michelle, she of the crossed-eyes and adorable mouth, when there is a knock on the door to the Niles’ estate.

  The butler opens it, (yes, they have a fucking butler, can you believe it?) and there are two state troopers standing rigid at attention outside.

  “Can you please get Mr. Niles for us?” the taller one asks.

  “Certainly, Officer, please wait here for a moment while I find them,” the butler intones.

  He sounds like that guy from that movie starring that other guy, who…

  Mr. Niles walks over to the troopers, and they whisper and gesture for a moment, before Mr. Niles frowns, and then he turns and looks straight at Thumper.

  Then, he looks at me.

  My blood runs cold.

  Bea and my parents should have been here by now.

  The shorter trooper walks over to Thumper, and the taller one starts walking my way.

  I decide to meet him, and he holds up a hand, threading his way to me.

  “Keith-David Sullivan?” he asks.

  “Yes, that’s me. Don’t you watch football?” I ask, in a slightly snarky way.

  “What’s going on, bro?” asks Thumper, who is being escorted by the other trooper.

  “Let’s all go into my conference room, okay, Officers?” asks Mr. Niles.

  “It’s just down this hall,” he gestures.

  The butler precedes us, a solemn procession, and then he opens the doors for us.

  “Please sit down, gentlemen,” he intones, and Thumper and I walk into the room.

  We seat ourselves at this magnificent table, with rich leather chairs, and the smell of cigars and really expensive booze in our nostrils.

  “Should I stay, Officers?” asks Mr. Niles.

  “If this is of any legal consequence, I’d like to offer my services as an attorney on retainer to these men,” he adds.

&nb
sp; The troopers look at each other, serious and professional.

  “They won’t need legal representation, sir,” says the tall trooper.

  “Boys, there’s been a bad accident, involving your family,” he says.

  My balls shrink into my body.

  “Are they okay? Is anyone hurt?” yells Thumper.

  “It’s very serious, son,” says the short trooper.

  Mr. Niles comes to a decision.

  “Olsen, get the Bentley, and order more entertainment to keep the party going, please. If it looks like anyone can’t drive, then offer them guest rooms until we run out, then arrange for hotel rooms and transportation!” he orders.

  “Boys, we’re going to go to the hospital, immediately,” he says, taking command of the situation.

  “Sir, we appreciate your enthusiasm to assist, but we…” says the short trooper.

  “But nothing, Officer,” he interrupts.

  “These two are like my own son, and I will do everything I can to help them out!” he says.

  “You didn’t answer my question!” shouts Thumper.

  The officers look at each other.

  “Mr. Sullivan,” he says, to Thumper, and then he turns to me.

  “Mr. Sullivan, your parents are dead. Your stepsister is in a coma at the hospital,” he says, tonelessly.

  “What? How?” I hear my voice as if it’s coming from inside a long, dark tunnel.

  “Apparently, they were on the way over here, and the driver hit a deer, and lost control,” says the tall trooper.

  “Then, the car flipped down a ravine, and came to a rest upside-down. A trucker was driving by and saw the car plummeting down the side of the hill, and called us,” he says.

  “By the time medical services had arrived, there was nothing we could do for your father and stepmother,” he adds.

  “Bee? Beatrice? My sis—stepsister? How is she?” asks Thumper.

  “As I said, she’s in a coma, and in intensive care,” says the tall trooper.

  Officer Barton, his badge says.

  The other officer is Officer Bruce.

  “Let’s go, boys, Olsen has the car ready,” Mr. Niles interrupts.

  “I’m sorry, boys, but that’s all we know,” says Officer Barton.

  “We’ll give you an escort to the hospital,” Officer Bruce tells Mr. Niles.

  —————

  At the hospital, Bee looks terrible.

  She’s all bruised and cut, and bandaged, and her arm is in a cast.

  There are tubes and wires everywhere, and the machines she’s connected to are beeping and hissing and going ‘ping’.

  And, I have no idea what any of it means.

  The doctors and nurses say she’s stable, but there’s no telling when she’ll awaken.

  We stand around her, Thumper and I, trying not to break down.

  The happiest day of my life is blown all to hell, now…

  I don’t know how I am still standing.

  I can barely process the idea that my father and stepmom are both dead.

  Bee lying there in the bed is breaking my heart in two.

  I am empty, and I feel like something in me is dying.

  —————

  THUMPER

  I speak with the doctors and nurses, and they all assure me that Bee is getting the best care there is.

  Mr. Niles took charge as soon as we were rolling, and we made it to the hospital in record time, the state troopers tearing down the highway, their lights on and sirens going.

  When we got inside, he told the admissions nurse that he would be taking care of the necessary financials, and gave her the direct number to his personal assistant.

  Then, he dismissed everyone as he made some calls to the State Trooper’s headquarters, the morgue, and some other important people he knew.

  I thought it must be nice to be able to do all that at the touch of a phone button.

  I’m worried as hell about Bea, and I can tell Stinger is still in shock from learning about Mom and Dad.

  I’ll grieve later, once I can make the time.

  Right now, my soul-mate is in a coma, and my twin brother is coming apart in front of me.

  I need to be strong.

  —————

  I hear Bea’s phone ringing, and it’s sitting in a bag with her other personal belongings on a shelf.

  The number isn’t at all familiar to me.

  I take it out of the room.

  It keeps ringing.

  So, I answer it.

  —————

  “Hello? This is Bea Sullivan’s phone… this is her step – …” I begin.

  “I know who you are, Mr. Sullivan, and I have a proposition for you, Thumper,” says the man’s voice on the phone.

  “Who is this?” I ask.

  “James Norton. I’m a scout for the NFL, son, and I think we are very interested in your brother and you, indeed!” he laughs.

  I feel angry, for some reason.

  Who is this guy to be breaking into a private moment, a tragic moment, for my family?

  And, why is he calling Bea?

  “How can I help you, Mr. Norton, was it?” I ask.

  “We’re having a family matter at the moment,” I add.

  “Yes, that is such a tragic occurrence, regarding your stepsister and parents. Such a sudden tragedy! Life can be so fragile! Death comes so suddenly!” he says, laughing.

  What the fuck?

  “Listen, buddy, I don’t know who you are, but if you think…” I shout into Bea’s phone.

  “Shut up, punk. And listen…” he says, with such a sinister tone I am completely speechless.

  “You just got a taste of what I can do, to you, and for you! You got that!?” he shouts.

  “I’m calling the police,” I say, but before I can hang up, I am grabbed from behind and shoved into a cleaning closet.

  I try to turn, to punch the shit out of whomever has me, but he’s got me tight.

  I hear a familiar chuckle.

  “Zo, now you play wit ze big team, no?” says the Frenchman.

  He holds the phone up to my ear, and Mr. Norton gives me my instructions.

  —————

  STINGER

  I’m sitting next to Bee, trying like hell not to break down and just cry right there.

  My mind is racing, and trying to deal with everything that’s happened in the last 24 hours.

  It’s insane.

  From a tremendous win at the game, to kissing Bea, realizing the depths of my love for her, to the party, to my parents, and now this.

  A tear falls from my eye, and rolls off the tip of my nose.

  I fight it, trying to push it all down.

  To be a man…

  Suddenly, Bee stirs, and moans.

  “Bee! Bee! Wake up, Bee!” I say, leaning close to her.

  She mumbles something, and then moans again.

  The sound makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

  She mumbles it again.

  Then, she goes back under.

  The machines show a slight blip, but now they just go along, rhythmically.

  I sit back, trying to understand what Bee was trying to tell me.

  The nurse comes in and I tell her what happened, so she checks the readings, and makes some notes on the chart, and then goes to her next patient.

  I’m alone, when Thumper comes in, looking scared.

  I’ve rarely seen him this way.

  “What’s the matter, bro?” I ask.

  “Nothing. How’s Bee?” he says, avoiding my question.

  I shrug.

  Probably Michelle or some other gal wants to go out on a date, and he’s terrified of that.