Jill gasped and clasped her hands over her mouth. Andy’s jaw clenched tightly.
“I came in just after it happened. I heard a sound and ran upstairs. Carla had knocked him out with a lamp. When he awoke, we fought.” I moved my hand from side, checking to see how much blood I was losing.
“Oh my god!” Jill whispered loudly. She rushed over to me to inspect the wound. “You need to get that looked at.”
“I will. But right now, I need you to go up and talk to Carla. She pulled away from me. I don’t know what to do to help her.” I didn’t need to say how horrible I felt that I’d left her alone and vulnerable. Jill already knew. She knew me as well as Andy did, and she could read my face and see the remorse. Of course, a total stranger could’ve probably seen the same thing on my face tonight. I felt miserable and guilty and was unable to hide it.
“Of course,” she said quickly. I told her Carla was in the shower and she ran upstairs quietly.
Andy’s fists were clenched by his sides. He looked nearly as angry as I did. “What are we going to do?” he asked. “To Bernie, I mean.” I didn’t know if it was my imagination, but I detected a harder tone to his voice now.
I shook my head. “I don’t know yet. But Jill was right. I’ve got to get this taken care of first, but then the son of a bitch will pay for what he’s done.”
“Damn right, he will,” Andy added with every bit as much anger in his voice as I had in mine. And I didn’t have to wonder whether I’d imagined it this time.
As Andy drove me to the hospital, he asked a few questions about what had taken place at my house. I answered as many of them as I could. With each answer I gave, his hands clutched the steering wheel tighter, until his knuckles were white.
When he ran out of questions, we finished the ride in silence, both of us hoping that Bernie wouldn’t return to my house. The women and children were alone.
I applied as much pressure as I could to my stab wound to minimize the bleeding. In fact, I applied a little more than necessary as a punishment for allowing this to happen. I wouldn’t tell Andy how responsible I felt, but I was sure he knew. He would tell me that it was crazy to think I could’ve prevented the night’s events, but he’d never be able to convince me. If I’d only stayed in bed with her, none of this would’ve happened. Maybe if I’d been sterner with Bernie the morning he tried to push past Carla and get into her house, everything would be fine now. And maybe, if I’d done more when he had broken into the house and violated Carla, this would’ve been just another uneventful night.
But I hadn’t done any of those things. And now Carla was paying.
I fought a wave of nausea as Andy pulled into the hospital parking lot. I was looking forward to getting this over with and getting back to Carla. I’d failed her once tonight. I wanted to be there for her now.
Though it felt like an eternity, it only took a little more than an hour to get stitched up and out of the hospital. Luckily for me, Bernie’s bad aim failed to reach any vital organs. A few stitches and a lie about a barroom brawl later, we were on our way home.
We rode in silence, neither of saying what we were thinking. Though it was unspoken, I knew we were both considering ways to deal with Bernie. Of course, ‘we’ wasn’t really an issue. I didn’t want to involve Andy. It wasn’t his fight. He hadn’t failed Carla; I had. Now I had to make it right. I also knew that Andy wouldn’t accept that. He’d be right by side, as usual. My fight would be his.
Andy turned onto Hewitt Street and I couldn’t take my eyes off Bernie’s house. I saw no signs of life, but I knew he was in there. He was in there, and he was surely gloating about having raped Carla and stabbed me. I could almost see him sitting in there, laughing.
I was going to beat the laugh out of him.
I noticed Andy staring as well. I knew we were on the same wavelength.
I unlocked the door and we went quietly into the house. I checked on Ethan and Shelby, who remained blissfully unaware of anything. I envied their ability to sleep. Seeing them in slumber was a painful reminder of the lack of sleep I’d experienced in the last couple of days. The night’s events had given me a surge of adrenaline that had aided me in remaining awake, but it was fading now, and sleep wanted to take over.
We went upstairs, where Jill had managed to get Carla dried and dressed in our absence. The two were in my bedroom, where Jill sat perched on the side of the bed, which I saw had fresh linens. Carla sat in a chair across the room. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, and her arms wrapped around them tightly.
I walked into the room without taking my eyes off her. I wanted to go to her and squeeze her to me, but I didn’t want to make things worse for her.
I looked to Jill for a sign. She nodded slowly. I took this to mean that she had made more progress than I had earlier. I took a step toward Carla, putting no more than a single step’s distance between us now. I waited.
With as much tenderness as I had in me, I said, “Carla.”
Slowly, she lifted her head and met my eyes. In a move that couldn’t possibly have been any more unexpected, she jumped up from the chair and threw her arms around my neck. She squeezed me as tightly as I had wanted to squeeze her. I immediately returned her embrace, fighting back tears as I did.
It was at that moment, that exact moment in time, that I realized I loved her. It surprised me to have such strong feelings for her, having known her such a short time. Of course, in that short time, we’d been through a lot.
I leaned my head down and whispered into her ear, “Are you okay?” I knew it was a stupid question, but better ones escaped me.
She nodded and pulled back so she could look into my eyes again. “I’m fine now,” she said, and hugged me again. I knew she meant she was fine now that I was with her. Even though I felt this had all been my fault, she clearly didn’t see it that way. She saw me as the good amidst the bad. I was her protector.
Andy asked if Jill had called the police. The reaction from Carla as he asked that simple, obvious question was one none of us suspected.
She nearly screamed, “No! No police. Absolutely not.”
I exchanged a quick glance at Andy, both of us puzzled. I didn’t want to anger her at such a time, but I had to know why she refused to call the police.
“Carla, why not? Bernie has to pay for this.” I said this in a calm and soothing tone. I didn’t want her to feel as if I were pressuring her in any way. I didn’t want to cause her more stress than what I already had.
She sighed deeply. “When I was ten, a man broke into our house and raped my mother. She called the police after he left, even though he told her not to. They arrested him a few days later. He never did time, though. He was let go on a technicality. He came back. He killed my mother because she had told on him. I won’t put my kids through that. They won’t grow up without their mother the way I did.”
None of us said anything. We knew then that neither of the four of us would call the police.
I felt the change in me. I knew I’d have to deal with Bernie. I had to rid her of this threat, this problem that lived next door to her. I couldn’t possibly expect her to live beside him without fear.
I would take care of her at any cost.
50 Bernie
I watched the room spin as I lay on the bed. The ceiling was nearly out of control. It might have not been such a good idea to drink so much. Especially since that damn Owen would probably be coming. They hadn’t called the cops, for whatever reason, so I had no doubt that he’d come over here and start something. He’d want revenge for what I’d done to the broad. He didn’t realize that I’d only done what she’d asked me to do. She hadn’t asked with words, but actions. And everybody knows what they say about actions; they speak louder than words.
I smiled and closed my eyes as I remembered creeping up the stairs and sneaking in the room where she lay, naked, sleeping, waiting for me. I relived every moment, every detail. I’d never forget the way she looked in the dark, or the way
her skin felt as I crushed it between my teeth, or the way it felt to be inside her.
I didn’t realize I was jacking off until I felt the warm mess on my hand as I finished.
I opened my eyes and laughed. That was almost as good as when it had really happened. I wiped the gunk on the wad of blanket lying beside me. Who cares?
I was glad that I could experience it over and over, because I doubted that I’d ever get another chance to do her. Even though I knew she wanted me to sneak over there and do her every night. I was sure Owen knew it too. I was also sure he’d do everything he could to keep me from satisfying her. He was jealous. He knew she wanted me and that made him jealous.
I lay there with my eyes closed to avoid watching the spinning room, and wondered what that damn Owen had up his sleeve. It had to be something. I didn’t know why they hadn’t called the cops. I imagined her begging him not to because – though she’d never say it to him – she’d wanted it. Whatever the reason, they hadn’t. That led me to believe Owen had a plan.
I imagined him sneaking over here in the night, slipping into my house and trying to catch me by surprise. The surprise would be on him, though, when he realized that while he was here trying to catch me, I was at his house giving it to the broad again.
The thought of having another chance at her gave me yet another hard-on. To take care of it, I closed my eyes and imagined creeping back up those stairs again.
51 Andy
The women were upstairs. Owen and I had gone to the kitchen under the pretense of needing a drink. What we’d really needed was a moment to ourselves to talk about what to do about that bastard Bernie.
I wasn’t sure how to handle this situation, and I knew Owen wasn’t either. What I did know, was that if it had been Jill he’d done these things to, I’d be throwing the dirt over his limp body right now.
Even though it hadn’t been my wife, it felt almost as bad. It was Owen’s girlfriend, and he was like my brother. I felt the pain it caused him and what hurt him, hurt me.
I leaned against the kitchen counter with my arms folded across my chest. Owen sat at the table, looking exhausted, with his head in his hands. There were a couple of times when I thought he was crying, but I was never really sure.
“Maybe we should talk about this more after you’ve had some rest,” I suggested.
“I just don’t know what to do, Andy. I have to do something.” He sighed heavily.
“Well, I’ll tell you this. The son of a bitch will pay for what he’s done. What we have to do is figure out what we’re going to do to him and when. That’s it.”
Owen nodded slowly. “You’re right. Let’s get something figured out.”
I sat down at the table with him and we began a conversation that lasted until after dawn. In the end, we had what could only be described as a rudimentary plan. It was basic and unsophisticated at best. Basically, we’d just talked about what we wanted to do to him and what we should do to him. In the end, we sort of just threw it all together.
I walked away unsure of how much of it would really be done. We were both angry and tired. In a well-rested and less emotional state, would we see things the same way? Bernie had to be punished. There was no doubt about that. But were capable of being the kind of monster he was?
Only time would tell.
52 Jill
I sat at the kitchen table sipping a glass of milk and nibbling on some buttered toast. I was trying to work with my stomach instead of against it. Andy on the other hand was really putting away a bowl of oatmeal, saturated with sugar, butter, cinnamon and cream. I tried to not look at it or smell it, or even think about it. I just wanted to keep down the toast. So far, so good.
He hadn’t told me what he and Owen had talked about in the wee hours of the morning, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. I was sure the conversation had centered on Bernie and his misdeeds.
I wanted desperately to talk to him, as I still hadn’t had the chance. There had been so much going on lately, there just never seemed to be an appropriate moment.
I watched him rinse his now-empty bowl in Owen’s sink before checking on Ethan and Shelby, who were playing in the back yard. When he returned, he took his seat at the table once more and sighed.
“This is just awful,” he said, resting his elbow on the table and his head on his hand. “If that would’ve been you...I don’t know what I would’ve done. I can’t imagine what he’s going through.”
“What about her? I mean, she has to live next door to that creep. I couldn’t do it. I don’t know how she’s going to do it.”
After a moment of silence, Andy said, “I still can’t believe he had the nerve to come over here and do such a thing. How did he know Owen wasn’t here?”
“I don’t know that he knew Owen was gone.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, look what he did the night before. He walked in and molested her with Owen lying right there. That’s guts. Or stupidity.”
Andy chuckled. “In Bernie’s case, it’s both.” He thought for a moment. “It’s like he was watching Owen’s house. Like he knew the moment he left. He saw his opportunity and took it. And he was finished and nearly gone before Owen came back. Had Carla laid there like he told her, he would’ve been gone.”
I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was mainly talking to himself. But he made some curious points. This got my wheels turning.
I swallowed the last of my toast and said, “You know, it’s almost as if he’s been trying to do this since she moved in. I think he tried to rape her the night Owen was there, but he had thought she was alone. So instead of actually raping her, he just...did what he did.”
“Yeah,” Andy said, catching my point. “That must be why he was watching Owen and knew when he left.”
“But he would’ve had to have watched them all day to know Carla was staying over here.”
Andy thought for a minute about that. “Not necessarily. Maybe he went to Carla’s house, saw no one was there, and figured she was here.”
“He still would’ve had to be watching Owen to see when he left. And what if he never left?”
“Maybe he would’ve just waited until the next time he caught Carla alone.”
“Yeah, or maybe he wasn’t watching at all. Maybe it was a coincidence that Owen was gone at the time he came over. He had taken a knife upstairs. Maybe he planned to kill Owen first.” I shuddered at the thought of anything happening to Owen. He was a best friend to Andy, and was like a brother to us both. If anything like that happened to him, we’d be crushed.
“Shit,” was all Andy managed to say. “Have you been talking to Carla about her theory?”
I finished my milk before telling him I didn’t know what he was talking about. Then he told me about what he called ‘Carla’s Two-Year Theory’. It made sense. I couldn’t believe we hadn’t noticed it. Three deaths in two years on one street. It was definitely odd.
Then, he told me about how he and Owen had suspected Mr. Jenson, and how they’d recently cleared him of all suspicious activities. He’d turned out to be an innocent, kind-hearted, lonely old man.
“You don’t think...” I couldn’t even finish the question.
“What? That Bernie might’ve killed three people living on this street in the past couple of years? Well, a few days ago, I would’ve said no. But a few days ago I also would’ve said he’d never break in and rape his neighbor, but here we are.”
“Oh my god.” A chill ran down my spine, colder than any I’d ever felt before.
There was a killer among us. A killer and a rapist. His name was Bernie Patterson, and he lived across the street from us. Oh my god, indeed.
53 Owen
Andy and Jill had gone home around nine o’clock. They were tired. Apparently, at least for a while, we were sleeping in shifts. They’d stayed over while Carla and I slept. They watched the kids and kept an eye out for Bernie. Now it was our turn. The kids were getting ready for bed, but we’d
have to keep watching out for Bernie. Who knew what his next move would be?
I watched out the front window for movement at Bernie’s. I saw none.
Carla got the kids ready for bed. I stood outside the guest bedroom and listened as she recited to them a bedtime story. We’d somehow managed to keep all this from them. It wouldn’t be long though before they would wonder why they were staying at my place. In order to keep them innocent about the whole thing and keep their world from being upset, I needed to deal with Bernie soon.
When the kids were all tucked in, Carla came out of the room, leaving the door open a few inches. I put my arm around her and pulled her to me. She nestled her head against my chest and I held her tightly.
I realized that I would always feel as though I’d failed her. I’d left her open and vulnerable to Bernie’s assault. If I lived a thousand years, I’d never let go of the guilt. But I had to move past it. If we were to have a future together at all, I would have to push forward, around the guilt, and put it behind me. And make sure I never, ever left her in such a position again.
We went downstairs to wait out the night, wary of any further onslaught from Bernie.
I double-checked all the doors and windows before settling down on the couch with Carla. She folded her legs under her and rested her head on my shoulder while we talked through the night.
I learned many things about her, and I revealed some things about myself as well. We had such a small amount of time to get to know each other before things had gotten so out of hand. It felt a little odd stepping backward like this, but it was necessary. I knew that we would always be tied to each other, whether or not we lasted as a couple. Our lives had become so entwined in the short time we’d known each other, that she would always be a part of my history, and I would always be part of hers. Nothing would ever change that. It only made sense to get to know each other better.
The Good Neighbor Page 13