Silencing Joy

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Silencing Joy Page 4

by Amy Rachiele


  “Holy shit!” I burst out of the car and ran to the driver’s door of the new car.

  When he saw me coming, he got out quickly. I jumped at him, never losing momentum, throwing my arms around his neck and squealing the girliest squeal.

  “I can’t believe it! You’re not dead!”

  He hugged me back, speaking into my neck because I wouldn’t let go; in fact, my feet weren’t even touching the ground. “Nope, not dead,” he winced. “But still hurting though.”

  “Oh, sorry...sorry.” I let go and stared at him, overjoyed to see him. I didn’t realize how upset I was thinking he was dead, until I saw him alive. All of the stuff that happened to me during the past week finally made me crazy, apparently.

  “Great,” Derek said with sarcasm. “She gets emotional and sees me, she slaps me. She gets emotional and sees you, you get a hug.” I ignored Derek.

  “Wow, your face is really healing up. You know, I told my friend Jen that I didn’t think I would recognize you when you didn’t have a fat lip and two swollen black eyes,” I laughed like a giddy little girl. Relief at seeing him showered over me.

  “Yeah, now my eyes are just yellowish-green,” Will comments, eyeing Derek.

  “Well, got to go,” Derek said. “Thanks for the car.”

  “Wait a minute. What about Will?” I asked, perplexed as to why Will was even here.

  Derek retorted, “Will’s dead...remember? He can’t be seen. Run along now, Will.” He made a little shooing motion.

  “What the hell is going on?” I shouted. “This is completely insane!”

  “Will is dead so we can catch a criminal. Okay? Now, get in the car.”

  “Not good enough.” I crossed my arms, shifting my stance to say I’m not moving until I get more answers! Derek sighed and held his head in defeat.

  I had been searching for explanations within myself, but had no one to ask or confide in except for Jen. I had to know. It was like watching a horror movie, knowing the lead shouldn’t have open the front door, but they couldn’t resist and did it anyway, regardless of what was on the other side. I felt like that stupid person. I needed to know, regardless of the consequences of knowing.

  “Alright...” Derek exchanged a deliberate glance with Will, then looked back at me and said, “The plan was get you moved to a safe house. I wasn’t even the one that was supposed to do it. Then, Will’s death was to be faked to up the ante on Tommy and his crew. We’re trying to flush him out. He is a huge drug trafficker. And he does it right through Pittsfield High. It is an unbelievable operation. Will and I have been trying for two years to get him to screw up. The police could only get him on misdemeanors. The FBI wants to stop Tommy right at the source and put him away. He’s eighteen now. He’ll be tried as an adult.”

  “Wait...aren’t you two in high school?” I ask, pointing a shaking finger between the two of them.

  “Remember, I told you after I had the crap beat out of me that I stayed back?” Will jumped in, “Well, I did more than stay back. I was recruited by the FBI. They trained me and put me back at school as a narc. I was in a lot of trouble a couple of years ago: drugs, stealing, and a lot of petty shit. I was the perfect candidate for the job.” He paused after declaring his life story in a nutshell. “Tommy is getting some serious help from someone. Derek and I have embedded ourselves to find out answers. My faked death is a ruse to flush Tommy’s boss out. We have learned a lot about Tommy over the past couple years, and the only thing he fears is a charge he won’t be able to get out of...murder. Not just any murder. The murder of a local teenager at the high school he goes to. The campus will be flooded with outraged parents, police investigators, and, worst of all, the media.”

  “Tommy and his boss have moved on from drugs to human trafficking. He is taking girls and selling them. He’s been shipping them overseas,” Derek cut in.

  “That’s horrible!”

  My stomach churned in disgust as I took in all the information behind the door I shouldn’t have opened. The thought of being stolen from your life, being ripped away from everything you’ve known, sold like a TV or a microwave.

  “What does that have to do with me?” I asked.

  “You’re a witness to Will’s beating. The media spread of Will’s death was not supposed to be broadcast until one of our agents picked you up and moved you out of state. Did you see how fast Tommy reacted when he saw the media clip? Those weren’t bikers out for a joyride. They were out for a Joy-abduction.”

  The callous play on words with my name hit home. No matter how many times I went over it in my head and tried to rationalize it, it came back to one thing. I am in some serious life-threatening shit! My body ordered my brain to calm my heart down. My rational-side was trying to take control. I tried to focus on the issues at hand, but the frustration and fear just continued to build as these problems became more cloudy and complicated.

  “Where am I supposed to go? I have a life. How long will I have to stay away?”

  “Look, you have to stay away for as long as it takes to catch them. So far we have been eating, sleeping, and breathing this case, but our superiors are getting ‘trigger-happy.’ They want this over with just as much as you.”

  “You said the information about Will’s death was supposed to happen after I was moved. Well, YOU’RE the only person who has EVER contacted me. Where is this mysterious FBI agent who is supposed to be in charge of me? The beating happened days ago!” I yelled at them, trying to control my hysteria.

  Will interjected, regarding Derek for confirmation. “We’re not sure. Believe me, I was just as shocked as you when I saw the news I was dead.”

  “I’m just a student from RISD. I keep to myself. I stay out of everyone’s way. I don’t do drugs, drink, smoke, or even drive fast. How did I become a witness to a felony?” Whenever I got emotional, I started talking with my hands, like that was going to make someone understand me better. My hands were speaking all by themselves at this point, and hysteria was climbing up the sides of my esophagus.

  “Hey, you’re not going to hit me again, are you?” Derek joked, rubbing his cheek. His attempt at levity brought my blood pressure down...a little.

  “Ha ha...” I said dryly.

  “Why don’t I take her to the safe house?” asked Will. “I’m dead now anyway. You need to get back to your little pack of assholes and do some damage control.”

  “How am I going to do that? They already saw me grabbing her. We were in a car chase with them,” Derek said incredulously.

  A loud THWACK! echoed through the garage, and Derek’s head snapped back as Will punched him in the face...hard! I ran to Derek.

  “Holy crap!” I scream. “What did you do that for!?”

  “There you go. You’re all set. You can tell Tommy you had the witness for him and you were running from the Feds. They caught up to you and snatched Joy, but YOU got away.” Will’s smug look was followed by, “You can thank me later for saving your ass.”

  Derek held his swelling cheek, astonished. I wasn’t sure if he was in shock from the punch or Will’s plan.

  “What are you going to do ‘dead man?’ What if someone sees you?”

  “I’ll get a disguise,” Will said triumphantly.

  All of the bickering, arguing, punching, skulking in doorways, and scary car chases had given me a headache. The events of the past week were catching up to me, and I wanted nothing more than to call Jen, cry, go to sleep, and forget everything.

  Shaking my head, I stalked over to the un-chased car. I opened the passenger door.

  “Make up your minds because I am getting really tired. I would have been asleep for an hour already.”

  “Are you kidding?” Derek called out as he checked his cell. “It’s only nine-thirty.”

  “Yeah, well. I need a lot of sleep.” I said sarcastically as I slid into the car.

  Finally, the gentleman that joined me was Will. He tossed my duffle bag in the back. He stuck a baseball cap and sunglass
es on, revved the engine, and then leisurely drove the car down the winding ramps that led to the exit. I rested my head on the doorframe, wishing sleep would just come, but I couldn’t help it anymore. I had to say something.

  “You realize that a hat and sunglasses, whether day or night for that matter, is the oldest trick in the book. And that you are drawing more attention to yourself now because you are wearing sunglasses at night.”

  “It’s the oldest trick in the book because it works,” Will said in a very self-satisfied tone.

  “Yeah. Right. Whatever.”

  I lay my head back against the seat and closed my eyes.

  Chapter 6

  Derek and Kara:

  September 1st Six weeks earlier

  The first time he saw her was math class. Derek had failed Algebra II already, so he was a senior in a class of juniors. You would think, with the type of job he had, he did it on purpose – but, no...he just really sucked at math.

  Kara's chestnut colored hair fell in waves down around her round face. She was tipped over her notebook doodling. Derek immediately noticed she looked sad. He plopped down in the desk next to her. The September sun streamed in through the row of windows lining the classroom.

  No matter how many years Derek spent in high school, he kept growing bigger and the desks stayed the same size. He glanced at her notebook. The doodles were of black-inked flowers with thick leaves. She was good. Derek wondered if she was in art class.

  The classroom continued to fill with chatty students. The first day was always loud with ‘hello’s’ and ‘how are you’s.’ A few people threw a ‘hey’ Derek's way, but no one seemed to even notice the chestnut-haired girl next to him. He stole another glance her way, and she still continued to draw.

  “Hi. I'm Derek,” he said, introducing himself.

  A barely audible ‘Hi’ came from Kara's mouth. She never even looked up.

  “Do you like math?” Derek asked.

  Kara shrugged, “It’s okay.”

  “Well, I think it sucks. This is my second year in this stupid class.”

  A couple of guys were play fighting, pushing and shoving. The teacher hadn’t arrived yet. One of the guys staggered and stumbled right where Kara was sitting.

  Without thinking, Derek jumped out of his too-small desk and got between Kara and the asshole horsing around. He grabbed the guy and twisted his arm around his back.

  “Stop fucking off,” Derek hissed in the guy’s ear. When Derek let go, the guy immediately made his way back to his friends on the other side of the classroom.

  Derek returned to his seat and noticed a very startled Kara. Her pen was in mid-stroke as she sat there blinking.

  “You okay?” Derek asked.

  Kara nodded quickly, not meeting Derek's gaze, and went back to drawing.

  *****

  Joy:

  I must have finally fallen asleep because, the next time I woke, I sensed car turning and slowing down. I sat up and rubbed my eyes to clear them.

  “Where are we?”

  “We’re pulling off into a motel. I’m getting too tired to drive,” Will said through a yawn.

  I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was three in the morning.

  “Wow, we drove for a while.”

  “Yeah, we’re about five hours away from Rhode Island,” Will stated through another large yawn.

  I didn’t have to ask which direction...I knew as soon as I opened my door. North! The freezing temperature gave it away.

  “Will, I don’t think I packed for this weather.”

  Will didn’t say anything. He just walked over to the lobby entrance of the Motel 6. I figured he must get cranky when he’s tired, too. I hurried to catch up to him, wrapping my arms around my mid-section to get warmer.

  Within five minutes, the drowsy clerk at the desk handed us a key.

  Wait, stop...one key!?

  “Why is there only one key?” I asked Will.

  “Come on.” He grabbed under my arm, leading me outside back into the cold.

  “Uh, Will?” I asked. “Why is there only one key?”

  “A couple of reasons. Can we just discuss this in the room? It’s freezing out here.”

  We made our way to room 106. He carried my duffle for me, and I realized he had no bag. Well, I guess it was a spur of the moment thing.

  I opened my mouth again to ask the same exact key question.

  “I am hoping the third time is a charm. Why is there only one key? Who said I was going to stay in the same room with you?”

  Will got very close to me, making my heart race in a way that I had never felt before.

  “Listen and listen carefully...

  A: You are murder witness.

  B: I am here to protect you.

  C: There are two double beds.”

  For effect, Will wiggled his two fingers close to my face.

  “D: We have to conserve money because I only have so much cash. I don’t think using a ‘dead man’s’ credit card when you’re on the run is too smart.”

  “Wow,” I said acerbically. “You are cranky when you’re tired.” That comment won me a disapproving look.

  Inside the room, he dropped my bag on the floor and headed to the bathroom. Okay, so I’m not 007. Give a girl a break! I had only been on the run for approximately six and a half hours.

  The first thing I did was head for the thermostat, turning it up. My nose felt ice-covered. I picked up my bag and set it on the bed near the bathroom. I rummaged through looking for pajamas as the bathroom door opened. I had every intention of making a joke about how men blame women for hogging the bathroom, but then Will stalked out in just boxers.

  “What the hell...?” I blurted out.

  He walked right pass me. I had to look away. My face heated. I heard him collapse with a thump on the bed by the window.

  Through the pillow, he mumbled, “It’s either this or nothing at all. I’ve been in those clothes all day. The ‘boys’ have gotta breathe you know. Do you know what it’s like to sleep in jeans? Yuck!”

  “Ahhh, TMI!” I yelled at him, covering my ears with my hands. “Ugh, go to sleep, cranky-pants.”

  He punched the pillow a few times as I headed straight to the bathroom, my face burning with embarrassment for Will’s little boxer short parade.

  When I finished with my nightly routine, I slipped under the covers and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

  *****

  I was traipsing through tall grass, looking for something, but I couldn’t remember what. My camera was around my neck. The sun was grazing the top of the mountain in front of me. I smiled and thought, “How beautiful, what a great picture.” I lifted my camera to my face. Suddenly I was violently shoved from behind and fell. I felt my camera smash from my weight. I tried to flip over, but someone was holding me down. The long grass was in my hair and face, scratching me all over, even poking through my clothes. I struggled again to flip over. I was successful, but my victory was short lived because straddled above me was Tommy. I screamed and thrashed. I tried to get away, but he was too strong. The horrible feelings that were paralyzing the night that Will was beaten came back in a blinding flood. I heard a voice. I couldn’t make out the words at first.

  “Joy! Joy!” I finally woke up to see Will on top of me.

  “Stop. It’s Okay. Stop.” He had my hands pinned and straddling my stomach. “It’s a bad dream. Calm down.”

  My sight cleared. I was drenched in sweat.

  “Get off me, I can’t breathe.” Will’s weight, combined with my fear, was causing shortness of breath. Will looked down at me.

  “Cute stomach,” he says jovially. I realized my shirt had ridden up around my ribs. I thrashed around now from mortification as my face flamed. He lifted off me and lay down beside me. The sunlight filtered around the curtains on the window, letting me know it was morning.

  I rolled the other way towards to edge of the bed and crawled into a fetal position as
I waited for my heart to slow down. Gently, Will put his hand on my shoulder and shook me a little.

  “Hey, Joy?” He hesitated. “You know, you have had a traumatic experience. Nightmares are part of it.”

  I spoke without moving or looking at him. “Thanks Dr. Will. Go back to bed.” I sniffled as tears penetrated my closed eyes.

  The bed shifted as Will got up and went into the bathroom. I heard the shower turn on. The covers were gathered at the bottom of the bed, and I reached down and pull them tight around me. I wanted to think about something – ANYTHING – that would take that awful memory of the dream out of my brain. Images of Tommy burned on the back of my eyelids. Wetness formed again in the corners of my eyes and dropped lightly onto my pillow.

  The doorknob to the bathroom clicked, and Will came out.

  “Hey, why is it that all hotels give free shampoo that smells like flowers. Half of their customers are men. Shouldn’t the soap and shampoo smell generic? I think that is discriminatory.” He had a grin on his face as he glanced at me. I couldn’t help but smile at his ridiculous tirade. “Bathroom is all yours,” he told me.

  The bathroom was still steamy from Will’s shower. It felt good because, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the chill that seemed to consume my bones. I twisted the shower knob to the hottest setting. I’m not sure how long I stood under the blazing hot water, but it felt good. My skin was red and my fingers pruned. A knock on the door broke me from my trance.

  Will yelled from the other side, “You okay?”

  “Yes,” I yelled back.

  “You okay!?”

  Guessing he didn’t hear me, I yelled louder. “Yes!”

  A creak sounded. I peeked out from the shower curtain; Will had stuck his head in the bathroom.

  “Joy?”

  “Get out, please.”

  “You’ve been in here a really long time,” he says. “I was getting worried.”

  “I answered you when you asked if I was okay.” I spit with aggravation.

  “It wasn’t too convincing.”

 

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