My Kind Of Crazy

by Nadene Seiters

  Although I guess the other guy is Jonah. Great, now I get to ponder that thought while we’re tromping through the woods. I keep a hold of the flashlight, and I try to tell myself it’s because I’m a control freak. It’s not because I’m afraid that Jonah will switch it off and attack me, no, not at all. I’m back to that fear again.

  We set off in silence. I’m not sure why he’s not saying a word, but I’m pretty sure as to why I’m not. First and foremost, I do not want to attract the attention of any wild animals about. Second, I have no clue what conversation would be proper to have out in the woods in the very, very early morning with a man who is practically a stranger. Well, Jonah’s starting to become an acquaintance, but Tom’s a stranger. I giggle at that thought and immediately blush when I realize that the man beside me heard me.

  “What’s so funny?” Of course, he couldn’t just let it go. I shrug one shoulder and focus on looking for the path we’re supposed to be following to get to his cabin. Maybe we should have waited until the sun was actually up.

  I know that we’re nearing the cabin when I hear persistent whining ahead of me, and I pick up the pace. I’m pretty sure that May wasn’t hurt when she jumped from the window, but there’s no telling what might have attacked her on her way up here. My heart is stammering in my chest as I clamber through the brush and catch my sleeve on a bush. It rips right off, but I keep going.

  May’s waiting for us on the steps of the cabin with her side pressed to the door. Her eyes are wild, and her breathing is heavy, so I advance on her slowly. An injured dog can be a dangerous dog, and I haven’t known May for very long. In fact, before I came here I had very few dealings with dogs, cats, or anything else for that matter. I’m not much of a pet person. When they’re outside it’s fine, but when they’re inside it becomes my responsibility to feed them, care for them, and wash the deer shit out of their fur when they decide to be childish.

  I hear a crunch behind me and turn to tell Jonah to stay back, but it’s not Jonah making the noise. He’s turned around to, and I slowly inch the flashlight over to the left a bit so that he’s not blocking my line of sight. In the gray of dawn, my eyes try to adjust as I sweep the flashlight over the area where there was the sound. For a few seconds, I think that I might have imagined it, and Jonah turned because I did. And then a possum comes lumbering out of the bushes with singed hair. At least the poor thing made it out alive, I think to myself.

  Then I turn my attention back to the dog and slowly advance. She’s quivering all over, but I don’t find any singe marks or bloody spots in her fur. “You’re just a big baby.” I whisper to her as I open up the cabin door to let her inside.

  I don’t feel right waltzing right into Jonah’s home, so I stay out at the bottom of the steps. He walks past me and turns on an interior light, and then he turns around to look at me. I can’t see his eyes, so I have no idea who I’m dealing with right now. Whoever it is, he motions for me to come inside, so I do. I don’t want to walk down that hill by myself even though the sun is starting to rise.

  “Let me just gather a few things and then we’ll head back down to the house. I think I have a leash for May somewhere.” It has to be Jonah because Tom’s voice is gruffer. I never thought I’d be trying to discern which person was talking to me at the time when only one body is in front of me.

  “Alright.” I make myself comfortable and wait for him to gather up his belongings. I’m not sure if he’s planning on leaving, or if he’s actually planning on staying in my home. Right now I don’t want to ask him. I just want to go back to my father’s old house, and take a long, hot shower. Then I want to get in the car and have the reading of his Will done and over with. I don’t think my father had much to leave me. It doesn’t matter though.

  I never cared about the money. The entire reason I came down here to take care of everything consisted of pure guilt. I just wanted to see my father’s belongings for the last time, and I wanted to remember him as he was. Whatever he left behind that might be valuable of is no concern to me. But apparently it’s a concern of someone.

  “I’m going to stay with you in the farmhouse if that’s alright. I think it’ll be best if we’re together. That way if someone tries to break in it’ll be two against one.” There is a lot wrong with that statement. Jonah could be the one who killed my father, and apparently he wasn’t much of a help to him either in his time of need. Suddenly I’m angry, but that’s irrational. Jonah might not have been there at the time of my father’s murder. Maybe he was in the cabin?

  “Fine, but if I catch you upstairs near my room I’ll-” my insult is cut short by the gleam in Jonah’s eyes, and I realize that I’m not speaking with that side of him anymore. This is the most frustrating thing I’ve ever gone through in my life. “Look, I get it. You come out when he’s stressed. But this seems like a split personality disorder. How can he actually see you when you’re inside of him?” It all comes out in one breath, and I have to inhale afterwards. A confused and strange look comes over Jonah’s face.

  “What did you say?” I blink a few times, and shake my head.

  “Never mind.” I can tell by the way he’s looking at me that he has no idea that Tom is showing through the surface. I really wish I could be inside his head right now so I could understand this better, but I guess I ought to talk to a shrink about it. That is if I want to get some actual answers and not just a few odd looks.

  Our way back down to the house is pretty uneventful, and as soon as May sees that the flames are gone she seems a little more relaxed. I let her into the house first, and deem it safe when she doesn’t bark or growl. Then I head up the stairs to my own room and grab my clothes from a duffle bag. It’s not until I’m tearing off my shirt in the bathroom that I realize my entire arm is on display. Each reminder of how abnormal I used to be is staring me right in the face.

  I shouldn’t be so judgmental.

  My shower is not as warm as I had hoped for, but it does the trick. I’m clean and relaxed by the time I get out. I’ve also had a lot of time to think in there. I run over the facts in my mind. Jonah Quinton, aka Tom, has been here for a while. If he’s the farmhand my father told me about, over the phone, two and a half years ago, he has been here that long. If he is a prime suspect, I’m sure that the police would have arrested him by now. But sometimes the police are wrong.

  Then again, I can be wrong a lot too. There’s just not enough evidence that this guy did it, and I don’t see why he would kill the only man in this town who allowed him to stay. What doesn’t make sense is why he would want me gone, too. Unless he’s afraid that I’ll kick him out. I mull over that thought as I blow dry my hair and tease it into some curls around my face.

  While I’m applying my makeup, I run over what the police told me about my father’s murder. Someone broke into the home, but they’re not sure when. That person then proceeded to tie my father up like a pig and put him on his own bed. He, or she, had a twelve gauge shot gun. I don’t know much about guns, but I know that a shot gun is hard to trace when it’s full of shot and not an actual bullet.

  Then they shot him in the face, leaving me with a corpse that has to be cremated when the investigation is over. His body has not been released to me, and that all in itself makes me want to find out who did this. But first, I have to go hear his Will.

  I pull on my shoes as I descend the stairs and almost run into Jonah with a glass of tea in his hands. May is by his side again. She’s abandoned me for the crazy man. That’s not very comforting at all. “I’m going into town now, do you need anything?”

  “I don’t think so. Do you want me to come with you?” I narrow my eyes at the dark look on his face and shake my head. It’s not as if someone’s going to shoot me in broad daylight. Someone who burns down another person’s barn is pretty cowardly.

  Without another word to one another, I slide behind the wheel of my silver rental. I can’t help it. I glance in the rearview mirror. Unsure of what I expected to see, my eyes
return to the dirt drive in front of me, and I push the car into third when I get out onto the pavement. It’s a twenty minute drive into town.

  I pull up to the attorney’s office, and take in a deep breath as I open up the car door. It’s a quaint, red brick building that has a mahogany colored door. It’s even equipped with a brass door knocker, which must be for decoration considering there’s a doorbell to my left. I glance down at my clear coated fingernails and wonder if I should have put a little more effort into looking presentable. It’s too late now because the door opens.

  “Mr. Nickel, I’m Anastasia D’Salvatore. I’m here for the reading of my father’s Will.” I stick out my hand like any normal person, and Mr. Nickel, the gray haired old man, just stares at it. I’m not sure if he’s stuck in the eighteen hundred where women don’t shake hands, or if my nail polish offends him. Either way, he’s just lost my vote of cute old man of the year.

  “Right this way, Ana.” Okay, he’s really lost my vote. Why is it that everyone in this town calls me Ana? I follow the short old man inside anyway and close the door behind me. My short heels clink on the hardwood floor as I walk through a short foyer to a set of stairs. Mr. Nickel leads me up the stairs, and suddenly I feel like I’m in some sort of horror movie as I pass very old pictures hanging on the wall. Not one of the people in these pictures is smiling.

  “I appreciate you taking the time to lay this all out for me, Mr. Nickel.” I’m really trying to be polite here. But the way he raises his nose in the air as if he’s smelled something disgusting makes my entire body rigid. I sit down in a small leather chair facing a desk and Mr. Nickel settles himself behind it. Then he proceeds to tell me the worst news of my life.

  Chapter Four

  Jonah

  It’s been three hours since she disappeared, and I’m beginning to wonder if she’s alright. It takes twenty minutes to get to town, and it probably doesn’t take more than an hour to go over a Will. Anastasia is approximately an hour and twenty minutes late getting home. What could she be doing that would take her an hour and twenty minutes?

  “She’s probably trying to dig up information on you.” Tom’s voice rolls through me like a rumble of thunder.

  “I thought I got rid of you with a pill.” I close my eyes so that the visual hallucination cannot be seen. But my senses betray me and the light behind my eyelids darkens for an instant as Tom passes in front of me. This is worse than before. I can feel his breath on my face!

  “A pill can’t get rid of me, Jonah. Not when you don’t want me gone.” I grit my teeth and fumble around for the wooden, kitchen chair. My hand grazes over it and I plop down in it with an audible thud. Relenting, I open my eyes and Tom is nowhere to be seen. With a furrowed brow, I search the entire kitchen with my gaze, and let out a relieved sigh when I don’t see him.

  “I want you gone.” I whisper to no one. May trots through the kitchen door with her tongue lolling out, and I take the hint. I turn the thermostat down so that the house is cooler. Just as I’m turning around to ask May if she needs to go out, the front door slams open, and a hurricane comes blowing through the house.

  Her blonde hair is still falling flawlessly around her face, but her once calm, blue eyes are a sea of stormy rage. The way her lips are clamped together makes me think that she’s trying to hold back some very frank words. And the way her feet are held apart makes it look as though she’s ready for a very tough fight. I immediately take a step back from Anastasia, and wonder if I should ask her what is wrong. I get my answer soon enough.

  “You!” She shouts that one word at me as if that will explain everything, and then she’s advancing on me with her weapon, a finger. I feel the first poke at my chest and scrunch up my muscles as I try to shy away from her.

  “What the hell is the matter with you?” I just get more glaring looks, a few splutters, and then some more pokes in my arm. My instant shock at her behavior has my guards falling down, and Tom appears in the doorway behind her.

  “It seems the Wicked Witch has returned!” Tom shouts with his arms in the air. I try not to focus on the wicked smile across his face and instead turn my gaze to Anastasia.

  “Anastasia, tell me what’s wrong!” She’s about to poke me one more time on the upper arm, and in self-defense I put my entire hand over hers. I gently curl in her finger and grab the other fist when she raises it to hit me. I’m not sure what I did, but apparently it was truly awful.

  “You stole my father, you son of a bitch!” I blink a few times, and then the worst thing of all comes out of Tom’s mouth.

  “Don’t go calling our mother names!” I want to snort and laugh at the same time, but now is not appropriate. Still, she must see the glimmer in my eyes. Anastasia wrenches her fists out of my hands and points in my face, hers nothing but a blaze of fury.

  “This is not going to fly! I will take you to court over this!” I still have no idea what she’s talking about, but nod anyway to appease her. It’s not working, and Tom’s raucous laughter behind her is not helping me get my head straight.

  “Could you just sit down like a normal person and explain this to me? I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” I didn’t mean to shout, but the words tumbled out that way. The poor woman takes three steps back from me, and I see tears starting to brim in her eyes. “Oh God, don’t cry. I’m sorry. I’m not losing it. Okay, maybe I am a little, but if you could just sit down and explain this to me, maybe we can fix it?” There, that’s better. A lot less shouting and she’s squaring her shoulders as I knew she would.

  Without another word or poke, Anastasia marches into the kitchen with her clinking shoes and slams her purse onto the table. She sits down in a kitchen chair, and when she doesn’t shout at me I sit down across from her. I would ask her if she wants tea, but I think a hot beverage in her hands right now is a bad idea. I like the flesh on my face.

  “How could he do this to me? I mean, I’m his daughter!” She’s not shouting anymore. It’s at a level I might call yelling. Then she says in a lower volume, “I don’t even know you, and I’m supposed to share all of this?”

  My flesh grows cold, and for a second I think that maybe I should have left the thermostat where it was at. Then I glance down and see that there are goose bumps all over my flesh, and it’s not the air that’s caused this reaction. It’s the fact that she said the word ‘share’.

  “What do you mean, share?” I’m not sure if it’s my thought or Tom’s, but it pops out of my mouth on its own accord.

  “My father left this entire property to the both of us. The complications that arise from two parties owning a piece of property like this are insane! I spent over an hour talking to the attorney to understand this. If I decide to sell this place, you can either buy me out, or we would have to go to court. That is if you didn’t want to sell, or vice versa.” I try to derive from that statement whether she actually wants to sell this place or not. But I don’t think that’s what she’s upset about. I think it’s the thought that her father actually considered putting me in the Will in the first place.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know about this.” If looks could kill, I think to myself. “Look, if you want the property all to yourself, I’ll just sign a document stating that it’s all yours. I swear.” It’s not working. Maybe there’s nothing that I could say that would make her feel any better, so I just keep my mouth shut.

  “And you’ll just hand all the money that was left for you back, too?” My mouth goes dry as I stare at her. I’m flattered her father actually cared about me so much he would treat me as if I was one of his children, but the fact is that I was not.

  “Yeah, if you want it you can have it.” Tom sucks air between his teeth behind me and I ignore it. This is the right thing to do. None of this was supposed to be mine in the first place, and I should be grateful that D’Salvatore let me stay here. Now I wonder if I’m going to have to find a new home. I’m a big boy. I can do that. Anastasia seems to be studying me as if she�
��s looking for deceit.

  “No, he left it to you. I’m the one who should be giving over my half of the property. But I’m not! Just so we get that straight. I just want to know if we’re on agreement that the property is not going to be sold at this point.” I nod once while I stare down at my hands on my thighs. If half of this property is mine, then that means I can stay if I want. There’s no way that she can kick me out, but if she asks me to leave then I will.

  “So I guess it’ll take a few days for all the life insurance policies to come through and some other mumbo jumbo. I wasn’t listening to much of what that dwarf had to say. Ugh, you should have been there! You could have flipped out on him, and it would have been alright, but not me. I had to act like a polite, little woman on the prairie. It was sickening.” She rants, and while she complains about the smell in the man’s office and the way he treated her, I pour us both some coffee.

  It takes her three sips to start calming down until she’s finally more focused on the coffee rather than the stress of dealing with her father’s Will. Maybe I should have insisted upon going along.

  “You don’t know her, stop drooling!” Tom’s voice in my ear actually makes me physically jump. The movement grabs Anastasia’s attention, and she quirks an eyebrow at me.

  “Random twitch.” I lie to her smoothly. At least I think I do. A long silence blankets the two of us as we sip our coffee and stare at the table, or the floor.

  “You’re still planning to stay here tonight?” Her voice is completely neutral, and I’m unable to tell if she actually wants me to stay or if she wants me to leave.

  “I am.” I try to keep my tone just like hers, but there’s some force to it still. “I’m going to check on the barn and see if there’s anything salvageable.” That should give me something to do. Anastasia doesn’t argue with me and remains focused on her coffee.

  It’s quickly becoming a sweltering Monday, and I’m hoping that I can keep Tom at bay for the time being. My breath catches in my throat when I see the wreckage from the night before. I bend down to pick up a charred piece of wood, and it crumbles to ashes in my fingers. I don’t see one piece of material that’s worth salvaging, but I start digging anyway. I need something to keep me busy.