The Light In the Dark

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The Light In the Dark Page 19

by Craig A. Smith


  “No man,” Hiram says, “I promise I won’t, just let me up, I can’t breathe.”

  “Do you promise?” Drake asks.

  “Yeah, I promise,” Hiram says as Drake lets him up. Hiram walks to the hood of the Camaro and lights another cigarette. Drake leans up against the hood next to him.

  “I know he is your friend,” Hiram says, “but the next time that little fuck talks to me like that I am going to put his ass in his place.”

  “I know dude,” Drake says, “that whole thing wasn’t cool but I really don’t know what to say. I’ll talk to him when he is more normal. If he ever goes off on you like that again you’ve got the green light to beat the shit out of him.” Hiram nods, still breathing hard; he gives Drake an earnest look.

  “I am going to tell you something that I have never, ever told anyone in my life but you have to promise not to say anything,” Hiram says. Drake is curious, but hesitant.

  “Sure,” Drake says, “you have my word that I won’t say anything.”

  “I didn’t attack my mom,” Hiram says.

  “What?” Drake asks, taken aback, “So if you didn’t do it, who did?”

  “I didn’t say that she didn’t deserve what she had coming to her though,” Hiram says. “You see, she was screwing around on my dad with my uncle, which was his brother. I knew what was going on because he was always over at our house when my dad was at work. I never told my dad because I knew how much it would hurt him if he found out. I was only twelve when all of this was going on, I just didn’t want to make anyone mad. Anyways, one night my mom and my dad got really drunk and started arguing. She told my dad that she was leaving him and he told her that if she left that she couldn’t take us kids with her. Well, she decided to pull out a kitchen knife and told him that she had been screwing my uncle and that she would kill him if he tried to take me and my brother away.

  He said that he was going to kill his brother and she charged at him with the knife. He must have known that she wasn’t bluffing because I saw her running towards him, heard a thud and that was it. I ran into the kitchen and saw her lying on the ground with the knife stuck in the middle of her chest.

  “Whoa man,” Drake says, “so why did you take the rap for it if your dad did it?”

  “It was a family decision,” Hiram says. “I talked to my dad and after he sobered up we agreed that I would take the blame. It was all my idea and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

  “But, I just don’t get it, why would you cop to something you didn’t do?” Drake asks.

  “If he went to prison,” Hiram says, “which he easily could have for a very long time, my little brother and I would be in foster care and I didn’t want that for my little brother. When I hit 18 it’s almost like it never even happened. I couldn’t stand the thought of my dad in prison either. He is a good man and my mom wasn’t a good person. She used to beat me and my brother every day; she would put out cigarettes on us.” He shows Drake some of the scars where she had put some of them out on his arm. “She knocked my brothers’ two front teeth out just for crying once. Jail and Brask have been like paradise compared to what it was like living with her.” Drake, looking down at the ground, leans back further against the car and puts his hands in his pocket.

  “Wow man,” Drake says, “and I thought I had some rough at-home issues… that whole scenario is seriously some pretty heavy shit.”

  “Don’t say nothing,” Hiram says, “I just had to tell someone, the way people look at me all the time. She may have been messed up, but she was my mother. I could never hurt her… or anybody really. At least in that way…”

  “Well Hiram,” Drake says, “I’m glad that you told me that, it had to be hard carrying that kind of shit around.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Hiram says, “It feels kind of good to finally get all of that off my chest.” Kris approaches the boys in more of a calm state.

  “Are you all ready to get out of here yet?” Kris asks, “I am starving.” Hiram shoots Kris a dirty look.

  “Alright,” Drake says, “let’s get out of here. Toss me the keys, I’m driving.” Kris takes the keys out of his pocket. Hiram and Kris reach the passenger door at the same time.

  “Shotgun!” Kris yells.

  “Not a chance,” Hiram says, “get in the backseat.” Hiram opens the door and pulls down the front seat.

  “Dude I’m the one that called shotgun,” Kris says, “you get in the back.”

  “You don’t even know where we are going,” Hiram says.

  “You can navigate just as easily from the backseat,” Kris says.

  “Get in the back!” Hiram says with an escalated tone.

  “Kris, just get in the back,” Drake says as he starts the car.

  “Why are you taking his side?” Kris asks, “I called it, it’s not fair.”

  “Just get in the back,” Drake sternly orders, shoving him.

  “Fine,” Kris says as he crawls into the backseat, “I’ll remember this, screw the both of you.” Hiram climbs in, smiling and they drive away. Drake hits a fork in the dirt road and looks back to Hiram.

  “Take a right,” Hiram says.

  “I know that,” Drake says, “but where are we headed?

  “Pinewood,” Hiram says, “I want to go to that place where all of the kids were the other night. Maybe we can sell this whiskey and get some grub.” Hiram says nothing as he looks out the window and onto the lake. Boats are everywhere, people water-skiing and wakeboarding. Drake drives for a while and sees fork in the road.

  “We are almost there,” Hiram says. They drive further without talking, Drake lights a cigarette and Hiram holds his hand out of the window so he can feel the wind.

  “Is that the same liquor store you guys broke into?” Kris asks.

  “Yep,” Hiram says, “that’s the place.”

  “What if the police are still looking for us around here?” Kris asks.

  “Chill man,” Drake says, “we’re cool, we’re passing it aren’t we?”

  “Alright,” Kris says. They get to the Strip but the local youth are nowhere to be found, only families enjoying the Fourth of July.

  “Wow,” Hiram says, “this place was packed with kids the other night. Oh shit Drake, I see someone I know… slow down.” Hiram sees Becca but can’t remember her name.

  “Hey girl!” he yells out the window. Becca walks over to the car.

  “Hey,” Becca says as she leans into the window.

  “Remember me?” Hiram asks.

  “Damn,” Kris whispers to Drake, “she is hot.”

  “She sure is,” Drake whispers back.

  “Yeah,” Becca says to Hiram, “I remember you. What’s up? Where’s Tyrone?”

  “How should I know?” Hiram asks, “He never came back.”

  “Oh shit,” Becca says, “the cops must have got him.”

  “The cops?” Hiram asks in confusion, “What in the hell happened to him?”

  “We went to a party and Tyrone got in a fight with Stacy’s ex-boyfriend and the party got busted up,” Becca says, “I got away before I saw what happened to him.” Hiram looks at Drake, who shrugs his shoulders and takes another drag off of his cigarette. Hiram returns his attention to Becca.

  “We’ve got a fifth of whiskey in the back and we are looking to sell it cheap,” Hiram says, “Do you know anyone that might be interested?”

  “Come back tonight and I’m sure I can find someone,” Becca says.

  “We’re hungry now,” Hiram says, “and we need to sell it to get some food.”

  “Well, I would buy it but I don’t have any money on me,” Becca says. Drake leans across Hiram to ask Becca a question.

  “Do you know your way around here?” Drake asks.

  “I was born and raised around here,” Becca says, “I know pretty much how to get anywhere… why?”

  “Do you wanna come with us?” Drake asks. Becca leans in to get a good look at Drake; it is an instant attraction that quick
ly causes her to change her demeanor. She bats her eyes in a flirtatious manner.

  “I don’t know,” she says, “why would you want me to come along? Where would we go?”

  “My old man lives somewhere around here,” Drake says, “we can get a phone book and look him up, you could help us find the house and maybe I can get some cash off of him.”

  “Okay,” Becca says, “that sounds like a plan to me.” Hiram gets out of the car and tries to let her in the backseat with Kris.

  “What are you doing dude?” Drake asks Hiram.

  “What do you mean?” Hiram asks in confusion.

  “Get in the back,” Drake says, “ladies first.”

  “Come on dude, where I come from its bro’s before ho’s,” Hiram says.

  “Get in the back,” Drake says. Hiram shrugs in discontent and gets in the backseat. Becca gets into the car and smiles at Drake. Drake revs the engine and peels out onto the road.

  Chapter 22

  David Wayne Bell sits in church pretending to enjoy the Sunday sermon. His eyes are fixated on Gertrude Brandt, an older woman who is attentively listening to the end of the sermon. Brother Jeff, a portly and boisterous pastor paces through the aisles, microphone in hand, sweating profusely. He takes his handkerchief out of his pocket and begins to wipe the beads of sweat off of his forehead.

  “I thank you for coming here to worship with us today,” the pastor says to his congregation. “I know that today is the fourth and that a lot of you have plans.” The organ begins to play as he continues, “The lord is our light, and if anyone who is here today wants to come up here and be a part of that light, he is waiting for you now.” David stares more intensely at Gertrude, who is hanging on the pastors every word. He looks at her bible, clutched tightly in her hands. She looks down and caresses the cover, as if it were her child. The organ continues to play and the pastor continues after realizing that no one is going to be coming forward, “Okay, let’s end this in prayer,” he says as David takes his attention away from Gertrude and bows his head. “Heavenly father, we want to thank you for giving us the opportunity to come together here and praise your name. Thank you for the many blessings you have given us. May you take care of us and guide us to lead others to your brilliance Lord. May we take from your word all that is right, may we live it to the best of your standards, Lord. Lord, watch over us and show us the way. In Jesus name we pray, amen.”

  “Amen,” the congregation echoes.

  “You all have a pleasant afternoon,” the pastor says as he motions to the door, “and don’t forget that we will be having our annual Fourth of July barbecue in the back at two. If you want to bring anything else you are more than welcome to, but we should have enough to feed everybody.” The congregation rises and begins to depart the church. David slowly walks behind Gertrude and closes in on her when she reaches the parking lot. He taps her shoulder gently, his unassuming boyish charm at its best. She stops and turns around.

  “Excuse me Mrs. Brandt,” David says.

  “Oh, hello David,” Gertrude says while shaking his hand, “how do you do?”

  “I am well,” David says, glowing. “Did you enjoy the sermon this morning?”

  “Oh, it was wonderful,” Gertrude says. “Brother Jeff is such a good speaker. I try to get my sister to come but she just loves it over at that big church in Lexington. I’ve been coming here for over thirty years. I remember when you used to sing in the choir. You were just a little boy.” David smiles and gently nods his head.

  “Oh yes,” David says, “I remember those days.”

  “I was such good friends with your grandmother as well, before she moved off,” Gertrude says. “Now, where did she move away to again?”

  “She went off to do missionary work in Africa,” David says.

  “And where is she now?” Gertrude asks.

  “She became ill and passed away over there,” David says with a seemingly genuine sadness.

  “Oh dear, I didn’t know,” Gertrude says. “What cemetery did they bury her in? I must go and visit.”

  “She was cremated,” David says. “I put her ashes in the lake here.” Gertrude becomes uncomfortable at the mention of cremation, but she tries to cover it up with fake pleasantness.

  “Oh, that’s nice,” she says. “Odd though, she just kind of disappeared and things went on. I wish I would have known. You know the saying though, out of sight, out of mind.”

  “Yeah,” David says, “she was a good woman.”

  “She was a fine woman,” Gertrude says in agreement, “I’ve never heard anyone ever say anything bad about her.”

  “You know,” David says with a twinkle in his eye, “you kind of remind me of her in a way.”

  “How so?” Gertrude asks.

  “Every Sunday since I remember,” David says, “like clockwork you are in that same pew.”

  “I wish you were as devoted to this little church,” she says with a hint of judgment.

  “Oh,” David says, “I’m always at church on Sunday. I attend several different churches; I like to meet different people, hear different sermons.”

  “Well,” Gertrude says as she begins to walk to her car, “I must be going.”

  “Wait a minute,’ David says as he puts his hand on her shoulder, “I stopped you for a reason. I was wondering if you enjoyed Billy Graham.”

  “Oh, I just love him,” Gertrude says.

  “Well,” David says, “I just happened to come across some VHS of him, some really rare stuff; before he was even famous.”

  “Oh how lovely,” Gertrude says. “But unfortunately, I don’t have one of those VHS things.”

  “Well,” David says, “I was just going to watch some of them alone today but you are more than welcome to come over if you want to.” Gertrude takes a moment to ponder the proposition.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she says with a pause. “What would people think if they saw me over at a man’s house?”

  “No offense Mrs. Brandt,” David says, “but you are twenty years my senior and a fine upstanding citizen with high morals. I doubt anyone will think anything of it. I do remember you being a fine cook as well.”

  “Well, when you put it that way,” Gertrude says as she looks him over, “you do look as if you need a home-cooked meal and I would like to watch those sermons.”

  “Great,” David says, “follow me to my house and we can enjoy a fine meal and some great sermons.”

  “Very well,” Gertrude says, “drive slowly though, I don’t like to go above thirty miles per hour.” David gets into his Volvo and Gertrude gets in her 1980’s station wagon. She slowly follows him out of the parking lot and follows him to his house. David smiles as he thinks about what he is going to do with her and how she is going to react when he throws her down the stairs and ties her to the beam. She will cry and plead with him to let her go. She will pray to God for him to intervene, cry some more and then when it is evident that no one is coming to save her, her will shall finally be broken. David grins as he thinks about the excitement of it all, never exceeding thirty miles per hour.

  They arrive at the house and park in the gravel driveway. Gertrude gets out of the car and smiles when she sees the home.

  “Your home is lovely,” she says as she exits her vehicle.

  “Thank you,” David says as he unlocks the front door and lets her inside, “my grandfather built most of it and I finished the rest and added to it over the years.”

  “Oh,” Gertrude says, “you are a carpenter.”

  “Yes ma’am,” David says, “amongst other things. I’ve been building houses and docks since I was twelve years old.”

  “How nice,” Gertrude says as she looks at the photos of his grandmother on the wall, “she was such a beautiful woman.” David leads her into the kitchen.

  “I have built a state-of-the-art media room in the basement with surround sound,” David says.

  “I have no idea what you are talking about young man,” Gertrude s
ays with a puzzled look on her face.

  “It’s like a movie theater down there; it’s where we are going to watch the tapes. Come on down here with me… you will love it,” David says as he pulls out his keys. “It is so nice that I keep it locked up so no one can break in and get the equipment.”

  “Oh it’s horrible,” Gertrude says as she watches him slide the key into the first deadbolt, “the children these days. I hear stories on the news about people being robbed all of the time.” David fumbles and drops his keys on the floor while attempting to unlock the second lock. Someone knocks on the front door. He picks the keys up and puts them in his pocket.

  “Hold on a minute,” David says as he makes his way to the front door.

  “I can wait down there for you if you just unlock the door right now,” Gertrude says.

  “No, I’d better see who this is first,” David says while stopping at the door. He opens the door and sees Drake, Hiram, Kris and Becca standing there. He doesn’t recognize any of them.

  “Can I help you?” he asks.

  “Are you David Bell?” Drake nervously asks.

  “Yes I am David Bell,” David says, “now what can I do for you?” Drake looks at him, withdrawn and almost too embarrassed to continue.

  “Well sir, my name is Drake Bollinger,” he says. A look of shock and confusion comes over David.

  “Drake…” he says, opening the door. He stands there for a moment and finally gestures for them to come inside. They sit down on the couch and Gertrude walks into the living room.

  “Gertrude,” David says, “this is my son Drake and…”

  “Oh,” Drake says, “these are my friends Kris, Hiram and Becca.” The kids nod and smile in awkwardness.

  “Well, this is unexpected,” David says as he tries to lead Gertrude out the door, “I am sorry Gertrude, but I have guests and we need to do this at another time.”

  “I really do want to see those sermons,” Gertrude petulantly says, “and you did invite me out here to watch them.”

  “I know that I did,” David says, “but I wasn’t expecting company this afternoon and I am sure that they aren’t as interested in Billy Graham as you and I are.”

 

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