Dare

by Allie Juliette Mousseau

  The Core consists of three levels, a level for each type of training gear—the mats, the weights and the bags. We enter on the ground floor, which has the mats. An instructor is training a class of young children. They watch in the wall of mirrors as they punch and kick.

  I lead Sophie around to the back, where the offices are. I turn my head and smile at her, so excited she’s here with me.

  I knock on the door.

  “Better be important,” a gruff, deep voice calls out.

  “Oh, I guarantee it is,” I call back.

  “Get your ass in here!”

  I shove open the door, and my uncle is already coming around the desk. I reach out to him as he immediately spreads his arms wide, passes me and pulls Sophie into a big bear hug.

  “Oh!” She startles and looks at me to see if this is all okay.

  He pulls her feet off the floor. “I knew you’d be beautiful,” he gushes.

  “You know, if you’d hugged me first, she’d know who you are by now,” I quip.

  “I’ve been hugging you long enough. She’s prettier.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Josh has never brought a woman to meet me, ever.”

  “I guess you and the folks back in Williston have that in common.” Sophie smiles. “I’m honored to hold the title.”

  “I’m Josh’s uncle Cade, Colt’s brother,” he informs her.

  He still hasn’t put her down.

  “I’m Sophie—”

  “Garner,” he finishes for her. “I’ve heard all about you. Did you bring Charlie with you?”

  “She’s back at the hotel.”

  They’re having the entire conversation with her still in the air.

  “Aw, too bad. You’ll have to bring her with you tomorrow. We’ll get her punching the bags in no time.”

  Finally! He puts her feet back on the floor, holds her in front of him and examines her. “She does look like a scrapper,” he says to me without taking his eyes off her. “He’s teaching you self-defense moves, right?”

  “Yes he is,” Sophie says, blushing.

  “Good. Everyone should be equipped.” He stares another moment then states, “She really is very beautiful. You’ve done well, Josh. Don’t muck it up.”

  “Cade.”

  He points at me. “Every man should be warned.” He looks back to her. “How’s he doing? I know he’s handsome, but sometime all that punching takes a toll on the brain, and testosterone does that anyway, so fighters are double screwed.”

  She laughs. “He’s wonderful.”

  “Aww, she likes you. She’s cutting you slack.”

  He grabs my hand and pulls me into a back slapping hug. “The kids are going to be so excited to see you.”

  “How are they doing?” I ask.

  “This new batch is doing great; they’re getting stronger and starting to believe in themselves. We do have a new boy—he’s fourteen—he just came in last week and is having a damn hard time. Mom’s a junkie, he doesn’t know who his dad is and he’s watched a parade of assholes slap his mom around. I think he’s been assaulted sexually too, but he won’t talk about it.”

  Fuck. I hate hearing how people can treat each other so badly. “Has he been staying out of trouble since he’s been with you?”

  “A couple fights with a few of the other kids. He’s just mad and hurting. He’d love to meet you though—Jackhammer.”

  “Absolutely.” I see Sophie trying to put together what we’re discussing. “My uncle Cade runs a long-term residential home and halfway house for teens.”

  “That’s beautiful,” Sophie says, visibly moved.

  “When they come to us, it’s from all kinds of situations and backgrounds,” Cade tells her. “What we do is get them in here, to The Core, and then we teach them how to harness the power of their emotions for good and healing, for their own inner and outer strength. They start lifting weights, learn how to kick, and soon they feel strong, like they have some control over their out-of-control lives. Their self-esteem grows and they become secure with who they are in a way they may never have experienced before.”

  “I’m in awe.” Sophie nods. “That’s incredible work.”

  “Yeah, I love them,” my uncle says. “And this big gorilla here comes out once a month or so to train not only himself, but the kids too.”

  “You do this?” She turns to face me.

  “Yeah, I’ve been involved since I was fifteen,” I tell her, feeling like a dick for not having told her any of it in fear of having to tell her all of it.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her brow knits in curiosity.

  “It’s a long story. I promise I’ll make the time to tell you.”

  “Good.” She smiles again. “What a fabulous cause. I’m really impressed.”

  “This place will really be hopping this week, what with six classes a day, weight training and the divisional finals coming up. We have kids and adults of all ages who train here,” Cade explains.

  “I’m excited to be a part of it, even if it’s just observing.”

  “Oh, are you kidding?” Cade begins. “I can’t wait to see how Josh’s doing getting his girlfriend in fighting shape.”

  Sophie laughs. “He’s really only just begun.”

  “Good, then you can kick his ass for me on the mats.” Cade winks.

  “Oh, Christ.” Now I’m laughing.

  Cade checks his watch. “The kids are hitting the bags about now.”

  “Let’s go.”

  After I put our stuff in my office, we lock it up and head upstairs to the bags. We walk through the door, and about fifty kids shout my name and moniker and come up to shake my hand or bump fists. Most of them I know, but a few are new. A lot of times even when the kids are placed in foster care, they still come here to continue their training goals for free. Kids in foster care pay nothing.

  “Can we get your autograph?” The request is shot out once and it has a ripple effect. I take a couple of Sharpies out of my back pocket—red and black— and start signing gloves, t-shirts, sneakers, water bottles … whatever they want me to.

  We stay about an hour, talking with them, showing them some training tips and techniques, and I remind them that I’m going to be there through the week and we’re going to learn a lot and have a really good time.

  Cade excuses us. “So, take a minute to grab some protein, change and meet me on the private mats in about ten,” he says as we’re going back down the stairs to the offices. “Get ready, Sophie, you’ll definitely have your work cut out for you this afternoon after I’m done kicking his ass.”

  “Yeah, yeah, old man,” I scoff. “I’ll meet you in ten.”

  *****

  “Come on, Sophie.” I plead. “Now I’m in pain in more ways than one.”

  “I said, Noooo!” she teases. “You’ll be okay until tonight, lover boy.”

  “I have evidence to the contrary.” I grab her hand and put it over my ever-hardening dick.

  “I cannot risk Cade coming through that door,” she reasons and then snatches her hand back and begins to laugh.

  “Yeah, you know you caused it.” I reach out and snag the hem of her t-shirt. “You can’t expect to rub me everywhere all seductively, press your gorgeous full tits against me and blame it on reaching”—I make one handed quotes in the air —“then tell me you’re not going to finish what you started.”

  “I never said I wouldn’t finish it. I have every intention of finishing it … when we get back to the hotel.” She’s giggling and attempting to pry my fingers from her shirt.

  “Lock the door, woman.”

  “Cade’s smart, Josh, he’ll know exactly what’s going on.”

  “And he’d understand!”

  Cade walks in at that moment, without knocking. “I heard my name. What would I understand?”

  Sophie blushes and shoots me a death stare.

  “That Sophie wants to stop by the hotel to change and get freshened up before we meet a
t the home for dinner with the kids,” I say, covering the situation. She will owe me.

  “Of course, that’s not a problem,” Cade tells her.

  “Oh, good. Thanks,” she says while packing up her gear and avoiding his eyes.

  I will get her at the hotel.

  “We’ll be there on time,” I assure Cade.

  *****

  After we get back to the hotel, Sophie immediately takes me to my room, where we have one fucking hell of a quickie.

  Christ, that woman is hot!

  I’m grateful for the diversion, because I know that, in just a little while, I’m going to be reliving the pain and the hurt I’ve spent a lifetime fighting.

  “How do I look?” Sophie’s dressed casual classy, wearing blue denim skinny jeans that I’d love to peel off of her, a white blouse, a waist-length cream colored jacket with gold buttons and long gold earrings.

  “Yeah, why don’t we call and cancel? Tell him something came up?”

  “I guess that means I look nice?”

  “More like decadent and good enough to eat. Literally.”

  *****

  “Around the table we have: Dillon, Asher, Jenna, Michaela, Robby, Sander, Landon and our fraternal twins, Chantal and Terriese.” Cade goes around and sets a hand on each of the teenager’s heads as he says their names.

  I notice several of the kids weren’t at The Core this morning. A few say hi, others nod their heads, while some roll their eyes. I don’t blame them. I’m just another adult they figure will come and go.

  Cade’s wife Debra comes out of the kitchen carrying a tray of lasagna, with two more kids behind her, carrying more trays of lasagna and salad.

  “And”—Cade adds the last introductions—“this is Dwane and Michelle.”

  They smile and say hi.

  “The lasagna smells great!” I say, inhaling the aroma.

  “Homemade by the kids,” Debra states proudly. “I can’t wait to taste it.”

  “Everybody wants to remember,” Michelle begins, “this one”—she points to lasagna number one—“is full-on Italian style, with ground beef, sausage and four cheeses. And this one”—she points to lasagna number two—“is vegan, made with Tofurky sausage and soy cheese. And the final one is gluten free; it’s made with rice noodles.”

  “Let’s give thanks,” Cade says. We look at our plates or at each other. I watch Sophie out of the corner of my eye. “We want to express gratefulness for our lives, for each other and for our futures. Thank you that we’re together and that we can learn more from each other and become stronger than we can on our own. That we can be and do anything we set our minds to, no matter the obstacles in our way. Amen.”

  There is a chorus of amens around the table, and the digging-in begins. Debra leads a discussion with the kids about their day, but all I can think about is that I must be out of my freaking mind.

  What was I thinking bringing Sophie here? I could have kept my life with her compartmentalized. She didn’t need to know. Now she’s sitting here at this ancient table I’ve sat to eat at too many times to count. Why did I do this? My head is spinning.

  I consciously clear my mind and work immediately to fill it with positive thoughts.

  I’m thankful Sophie and I are together because she makes me feel like a better person. She makes me feel like I can do anything, and she makes me happy.

  Happiness and joy are concepts I’ve long since put away. I have a vibrant career, a wonderful family who loves and supports me, satisfying volunteer work working with Cade and the kids, and I have great friends who know me and understand me. But a feeling of elation—the power of pure, real happiness—I haven’t experienced that for years, or at least I hadn’t until Sophie came into my life.

  She’s an addicting substance that, once you have it, you know you can never live without it again. Sophie is my happy.

  So why on fucking earth would I want to tell her about a past I can’t go back and fix or make right?

  “Aren’t you hungry?” Sophie asks me in a quiet voice.

  I’ve hardly touched my food. “Yeah, I’m starving,” I say more boisterously than I need to. I shovel several forkfuls of the lasagna into my mouth. “Wow! This is great!” I say through the mouthful of food. “You guys did a good job.”

  I can tell the kids who made it by the smiles on their faces.

  Could telling her bring further, deeper redemption?

  Or deeper condemnation?

  I swallow the food only half-chewed as the answer surfaces to the forefront of my mind.

  I can’t fucking get rid of my past. It’s a part of me that makes me who I am, and it was a life experience that’s come to define me.

  If I want to share myself with her, I have to share all of myself, especially this.

  The idea of actually going through with it terrifies me. I reach under the table for her hand. I need to feel her strength. She smiles and laces her fingers between mine, while still keeping up with the pleasant conversation I’ve been ignoring.

  I make a conscious effort to tune in for the remainder of the meal.

  After dinner everyone participates in cleaning up until the kitchen and dining room are spotless, then we meet in the “family room.” This is the way things are run here at the home. Next we’ll watch a movie or Cade or Debra will read aloud to the kids from a popular book.

  And I think I might actually explode if I have to go in that room and sit like I’m fucking fourteen again … I can’t handle it, not with Sophie here, not holding this secret like a deadly poison that I’m afraid will ruin my life again. The poison that landed me here in this home in the first place.

  Everyone is filing into the family room and choosing their spots. I can tell the kids who are new because they sit off by themselves—they don’t trust anyone here yet. They’re also so used to rejection that they close themselves off, so maybe they won’t suffer again. Of course, they’re suffering in it anyway, and it breaks my fucking heart. Then there are the callous ones who put on a tough façade to convince you they don’t need you or this fucking place. And of course the couples—it happens a lot in coed group homes—a boy and a girl fall for each other so fast it’ll make your head spin. They gravitate toward each other like an asteroid to the moon’s surface. They don’t care that they’ll crash and burn, they’re just trying to create a makeshift family and have someone who loves them.

  They’re all here. It’s the same thing month after month, year after year, and the only difference is that the names and faces change.

  Why does the world have to be so goddamn, fucking cruel?

  I hear Debra start talking from the family room and realize I’m standing outside of it. Trying to look nonchalant, I lean against the wall.

  I’m not going in there.

  “I know we’re in the middle of reading Lord of the Rings, but Cade wants to do something a little different tonight,” she says. Several of the kids moan in protest, but others couldn’t give a shit.

  “Relax,” Cade says as he walks in. “It won’t take forever, and when I’m done you guys can play Xbox.”

  An ecstatic cheer goes up from the kids. I can’t help but laugh.

  Cade grabs a kitchen chair, sets it in the middle of the room, turns it backwards and sits forward on it.

  “I’m going to take you back in time, back when The Beatles’ ‘Let it Be’ was the number one song on the radio and the Chevy Corvette Stingray was the sexiest car on the road. I was thirteen years old.”

  “That must have been the days of the dinosaurs,” one of the kids quips, and Debra taps his shoulder.

  Cade continues, “My family lived on a farm here in Minnesota, in Elk River. The summer heat had become so oppressive, my older brother Colt and I spent most of our time in the pond—when we could get away from our mom and dad that is—they always seemed to have an endless list of chores.”

  The kids laugh at that. It’s always good to hear about when adults were kids doing kid things.
But I know this story, it’s a killer and I wonder why he’s telling it tonight. It’s not one he brings up often … usually when he’s trying to work on a kid’s heart, to let them know that he’s been there, that life sucks balls, but if you keep fighting you can have a happy ending.

  I notice I’m still standing in the doorway. Sophie’s sitting next to Debra on the loveseat. All the kids are chilled out on the floor or on one of the two sofas in the room. Uncle Cade has everyone’s undivided attention.

  “A storm rolled over us, violent, turbulent … it happened so fast we didn’t even see it coming. We came up out of the water and were standing on the bank, putting back on our shoes, when we saw a streak of lightning that blinded us both and, almost immediately, heard the roll of thunder over our heads, followed by the most sickening crash. A second later we saw angry black smoke billowing up into the sky—ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.” Cade stares at the far wall. His eyes are wide, as if he can see it happening all over again.

  “Colt and I ran like hell toward the house and into a nightmare. That lightning had struck the barn, and it was a fiery hell on earth. Then, everything happened so fast. Our dad was standing outside the barn door, screaming for our mom. She and the horses were trapped inside—you could hear them screaming too. The combination of my mom’s cries and the horses’ panicked screams will never leave my memory, not ever, no matter how old I am—a summer breeze can still hit me just the right way and I’m thirteen years old again, standing there watching everything in my life being ripped away from me. There will never be enough years to remove it.”

  He grows quiet for a moment. Debra gets up from her perch on the loveseat and goes straight to the kitchen. She brings Cade a glass of water. He takes it from her hand while looking up to her with grateful, emotion-filled eyes. She sits on the floor beside his chair, reminding him she’s there.

  Everyone’s silent. No one moves.

  “And then before we can reach the hilltop, Dad runs in after her—into the fire, into the flame, into the smoke. Colt and I … we’re almost there. I can feel the heat, hear the crackling wood … but we’re still too far. We weren’t fast enough. The roof of the barn collapsed. Neither of our parents came out alive.”