Satisfied that my appearance wasn’t going to get much better, I knew the time had come for me to get my balls up and actually knock this time. My hand shook uncontrollably as I grabbed for the doorknocker and struck it in three quick secessions. What the fuck you doin’ there, boy? Are you crazy or sumptin’? Get your ass gone. Buck’s voice broke through loud and clear inside my head as I waited for the door to open. Maybe I was crazy. I’d barely escaped the first time. To willingly come back after all these years? Yeah, I definitely fucked up. I was just about to haul ass out of there when the butler cracked open the door and greeted me with a speculative stare.
“Yes? May I help you, sir?” I cleared the lump that sat in my throat before I answered, hoping I appeared more confident than I actually felt.
“I’m here to see Senator and Mrs. Antonia Lancaster, please.”
“And…whom should I say is calling, sir?” Pompous prick.
“Um…tell her…” Fuck, I had to make up something fast, or this asshole would never let me in. “Tell her… Mr. O’Neill regarding her recent phone inquiry.” I put my game face on, the one I used when meeting new clients for the first time. I didn’t appreciate the judgmental glare coming from his eyes. So what if I wasn’t wearing my usual business suit and tie? It wasn’t his place to scrutinize me in any way. Nosy motherfucker.
“Just one moment, sir.” He went to close the door, but I felt he needed a little more encouragement.
“I’m certain the senator and Mrs. Lancaster wouldn’t appreciate it if you kept me waiting too long.” I was quickly losing my nerve, and if he didn’t hurry, I wasn’t sure I could do this.
“Yes…just…one moment, sir.” Pussy.
Get your head outta your ass, boy. You’re fucking up big time, you little shit. Buck was back in my head as I waited for the doorman to hurry back. Maybe he was right, this was a very bad idea and I should have taken more time and thought it through. Ultimately, it came down to the fact that I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Sure, Range asked me to come back to the junkyard, but to what end? I needed to know what was wrong with me, why I destroyed everything that meant something. It started here, in this house, when I was too young to do anything about it. The questions I had could only be answered by two people, both of which owed it to me to tell me the truth and end the nightmare that had become my life. I couldn’t go back to the yard the same way I’d left it, chasing empty pussy, watching the disappointment in my brothers’ eyes, hurting the people I loved so I felt better about myself. No, “getting my shit together” started today, right fucking now. I was so deep in thought that I didn’t notice the door opening and the beautiful woman who stood just on the other side.
“Hello, Mr. O’Neill, so nice of you to follow up in person. I’m Antonia Lancaster.” I couldn’t speak, stunned stupid by the vision in front of my eyes. She hadn’t changed one bit in all the years I was gone. There wasn’t a single wrinkle or blemish on her flawless alabaster skin, and her smile was so warm and welcoming I felt like crying. How was it possible to miss someone and hate their fucking guts all at the same time? She had no idea who I was, that I ran away years ago and was now standing directly in front of her. Did she miss me? Did she regret everything that happened to me in this house? Would she send me away without so much as a hello or fuck off? How could she not recognize me? Had I changed that much from when I was a boy? I couldn’t stand not knowing. I took a deep breath to clear my lingering nerves and looked her in the eyes.
“Hello, Mother.”
PAST
“I don’t understand, Mother. Where are we going?” I was asleep the evening I returned home from boarding school when my mother came for me. After I’d watched my father regain consciousness, I retreated to the backyard to hide the gift the strange man had given me. I didn’t want the servants or my parents to find it and make me throw it away, so I dug a hole and buried it under a bush where I knew how to find it. When I went back inside, my father’s office was empty and he was nowhere to be found. There was no ‘Welcome home, son, glad to have you back,’ or ‘Let’s spend the afternoon together.’ He simply vanished without a trace. I unpacked my suitcase alone, ate a small sandwich the cook left me before leaving for the day, then sat in my room and stared out the window until it was too dark to see anything. I got ready for bed and wondered what my classmates were doing back at school. Lights out was eight o’clock each night, but we never stuck to the schedule once the headmaster was gone. Our evenings were spent horsing around or telling silly ghost stories until the early hours of the morning. I refused to believe that my parents thought it was better for me to come home than to remain at school with the rest of my friends. I had to convince them to send me back where I belonged and not force me to stay in this place, alone.
My mother said I needed to follow her and not to ask any questions as she grabbed my arm and pulled me out the door. The mansion was unusually cold; the icy floor prickled the bottom of my bare feet as I padded behind her looking for signs of where we were headed. I dug in my heels and attempted to pull back on the death grip she had on my wrist, but it only caused her to yank my arm so hard I thought she’d dislocated my shoulder. The high-heeled shoes she wore were clanking on the floor as she stomped and pulled her way forward, never giving an inch off the grip she had on me. My breathing picked up speed until I was gasping for breath, unable to fill my lungs completely as panic set in and stiffened my entire body. Spots danced before my eyes and I felt lightheaded due to lack of oxygen to my brain. Something was wrong, so very wrong, and I needed to make it stop.
“Where’s Father? I want to talk to him. Please, Mother.” She ignored my pleas and kept going. I tried again.
“Please, Mother. I want to go back to my room.” A sob broke from my throat, but she was not convinced.
“Your father isn’t here. Now hush up and follow me.” She yanked on my arm again, stronger than before, which nearly caused me to stumble and fall flat on my face. I kept trying to convince her to turn back, but she was determined and I was powerless to stop her. We stopped in front of a door toward the far end of the mansion near the east wing when she produced a key and opened it wide enough for the both of us to fit through. It was dark. I couldn’t see a thing but felt the staircase beneath by bare feet. It was some sort of basement, dark and dank, that smelled of freshly chopped wood and paint. Once we reached the bottom, there was a faint glow of light coming from one of the rooms. This place was newly built and not part of the original mansion, but why build a basement for just the three of us? Maybe it was a surprise party to welcome me back? I waited for the guests to jump out and yell “Hurray,” but that never happened.
We stopped short at one of the rooms, and she pulled me inside. There was a bed in the middle of the floor and nothing else, no light, no chest of drawers, or decorative photos. The walls were painted a dark color that I couldn’t make out; one of them was mirrored like a dance studio’s the girls from school used to practice their ballet. I stood quietly and tried to get a better look around. I barely noticed she still held my wrist to the point of pain. I was being punished for something. She found out about the gift the strange man had given me or that I didn’t help my father when he was unconscious in his office. I didn’t mean to make her angry; I just didn’t what I should do. Should I apologize and beg for forgiveness, confess about that gift and hand it over to her? Anything, I would do anything to keep her from leaving me in this dark room as punishment. Tears leaked from my eyes and I cried earnestly as I thought about what she was going to do to me in this place. Nothing could have prepared me for what happened next as she sat on the edge of the bed and spoke to me for the first time since we’d entered the room.
“You love your mother, don’t you, Maxie?” she asked softly and released my wrist. She rubbed both of my arms with her cold, shaky hands and tried to warm me up with her touch.
“Of course, I do, Mother. I’m sorry for causing so much trouble…I’ll—” I didn’t get a chance
to finish before she interrupted me.
“Would you do something for me if I asked?” She stopped rubbing my arms and hugged me, close to her chest where I could hear her heartbeat and smell her sweet perfume when I hugged her back. The closer I held her, the less fear I felt at being in this room without light. For the first time, I felt that everything would be alright between us and she still loved me. I didn’t know what she wanted me to do, give up my comics, deliver newspapers, give up my room; whatever she wanted, I would do it.
“Yes, Mother, please. Just tell me what you want.” I squeezed her neck so hard I thought I was choking her.
“Good, my brave little boy. Just remember how much I love you and that I would never let anything bad happen to you. Do you trust me, Maxie?”
“Yes, Mother.” I held on tighter, afraid to let go.
“Good, now take a deep breath.” I took the deepest breath I could muster, while she rose from the bed and closed the door. The light was now completely gone, but I knew when she returned to the bed; the clacking of her heals on the floor inches away told me she was sitting down in front of me. The moment the hugging stopped, the fear returned with a vengeance and I stood there stock still not knowing what to do until I heard my mother humming. A child’s lullaby, low at first, barely over a whisper, strangely haunting yet lyrical and warm like other mothers when they tried to coax their children into a good night’s rest. She instructed me to lie down on the bed and place my head in her lap so she could sing to me. She stroked my hair, gently and calmingly, and began to sing the song:
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.
You make me happy, when skies are grey.
You’ll never know dear how much I love you.
Please don’t take my Maxie away.
I settled into her body, relaxed, safe, and warm, a feeling I hadn’t felt since I’d arrived from school that morning. She didn’t have to bring me down here if she just wanted to sing to me. My room in the mansion was much nicer and definitely warmer than being down in this basement. It felt so nice being held by my mother. I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until now. She was always kind when she came to visit me at school; she just never stayed long enough for me to create any sort of lasting memories. We never went out to dinner or a movie; just had a quick conversation about my absent father, and away she went. She never kissed me on the cheek or gave me a hugs good-bye, just a ‘So long’ and ‘Take care.’ I’d grown used to her visits and what happened when she came; this was what I’d missed all those years of being away, and it was heavenly. Basement or not, I wanted to stay like this forever, just me and her.
The click of the door jarred me from a near sleep and caused me to raise my head from my mother’s lap. She coaxed me back down with a long stroke of my hair, both of us fully aware that someone else had entered the room. I barely had enough time to grab her around the waist before my pajama bottoms were yanked down past my knees and ripped away from my body. Who was doing this to me, and why wasn’t she trying to stop them? I whimpered and clawed at her back through her shirt. I tried desperately to get away from the prying hands that were now touching me on my bottom. I kicked out my legs and caused the person to grunt when I made contact; that’s when I felt the pain of a hard smack. I screamed out loud, the sound so piercing it was only muffled by my mother’s stomach as I pressed my face against it. She shook me by the arms as I fought to see her face in the darkness but failed. I begged her to take me away, to save me from the person in the shadow with the heavy hand that struck me so hard I couldn’t stop the tears from falling.
“Shhhh, I’ll take you away, my beautiful boy. Just listen to me sing and you’ll float away like a beautiful bird soaring through the sky. Don’t be afraid, Maxie. Let the darkness be your guide and the song ease your pain. Whenever you hear it, you will know what to do.” I allowed her song to free my mind from what happened to me that first night down in that dark basement. The shadow took control of the darkness, but with my song I was able to get away from him whenever I needed to. It was my song that helped me survive those nights trapped in hell, until it was no longer enough, until I had…enough. I spilled blood to get away, freed my soul and escaped into the blackness of night. The blood of the shadow had been my salvation, but the lyrics to my song forever held me prisoner.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.
You make me happy, when skies are grey.
You’ll never know dear, how much I love you.
Please don’t take my Maxie away.
MAXWELL
How ridiculous we must have looked standing in that doorway, neither one of us saying a fucking word. I knew the reason for my hesitation. I needed a haircut, my clothes were a mess, and oh yeah, I hated this woman. The longer I waited, the more I pictured myself reaching my hands around her neck and choking the life out of her. I could see the wheels turning in her head as she gazed upon me. She probably wondered if this was some kind of joke and she was the brunt of it. I shifted my footing from side to side. The tension broke in our combined features. I felt like that little boy trapped in the basement longing for my mother’s warm touch as she held me. Time continued to tick away, and I prepared to return to my car without preamble. Coming had been a huge mistake, one that was time to rectify. Before I had the chance to step away, her unexpected greeting stopped me cold and killed all hopes I had of escaping.
“Oh, my God, Maxie, is that really you? My beautiful, beautiful boy.”She hurled herself from the entrance and threw her arms around my neck and embraced me. My body stiffened at her touch. I felt the sudden urge to vomit right there on her overpriced shoes, but I swallowed it down. I’d expected rejection, disbelief even, but that overjoyed reception was not something I was prepared for. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d even go so far as to say she was expecting me, as if the last fifteen years had never happened. Every single one of my instincts screamed at me to get the fuck outta there and never look back, instincts I’d grown to trust over the years, especially in my professional life. I even ignored Buck’s voice inside my head that told me not to trust this woman. Never trust a happy jack smiley motherfucker. They smile in your face and stab you in the back at the same fucking time, boy. As dumb as it had sounded at the time, he was absolutely right. The rich and famous perfected the art of lying with a smile and a handshake, which I knew from experience. I’d never let that fool me before, and I wasn’t about to let it fool me now. I wasn’t the man she remembered, and it was time I proved it.She let go and backed away with a huge-ass grin on her face, like a school girl who just met her favorite boy band in person. I was cautious but entered the foyer when she stepped aside with a sweep of her hand to urge me forward.
“Come in, come in. Let me get you a drink. You must be exhausted. I’ll have the cook make you something to eat. You must be starving. Did you travel a long way? Why didn’t you call and let me know you were coming? I would have been better prepared.” The faster she walked in those high-heeled shoes across the floor, the more questions she fired off. Her talking became white noise as I took a look around and found the entire mansion had been remodeled. Demure hues of brown and beige, unpretentious on its face, with typical layout of a home inhabited by an upstanding member of society. The interior design was textbook right down to the various vases filled with freshly cut flowers, an expansive library filled with political textbooks, and the oversized mahogany desk filled with photographs of the senator and other high profiled dignitaries. It was all so fucking perfect, the gold standard of political elitism and upper-class bullshit. What a fucking joke.
“Maxie? Did you hear what I said?” My mother’s voice broke through my observations. She was waiting for me to give her an answer. Too bad I hadn’t heard a fucking word she said. She sat on one of the chairs, back straight and legs crossed at the ankles. Her hands rested primly in her lap, just like the well-bred woman she was or wanted everyone to believe. She perfected that act of playing the submissive wife years ago, lon
g before I was born, and had it down pat. I was immune to the bullshit. I knew the other side of her, the sinister side. She wanted to play nice and put on that ‘welcome home’ show, but I came here for another reason entirely; and it was time to get down to my business. My emotions were all over the place: crippling fear one moment, then teeth-grinding anger the next. She did this to me, made me feel weak and unsure of myself. Her very presence caused me to lose control over the entire situation, but I would not waiver.
Salvaging Max Page 3