Deception Creek

by Persun, Terry

  Billy sat down and automatically reached for a teacup. “She’s right,” he said. “That’s why I decided to leave for a few days. I’m staying with a friend. Scott Pierce. You might know—”

  Grandpa Maynard nodded as Billy spoke, then finished the boy’s sentence. “His father. I do. Brilliant man.”

  “So is Scott. Very creative,” Billy said.

  “Well, you could always stay here, too, you know?” Grandma said.

  “I thought of that first,” Billy lied. “But I’d be in and out at all hours and didn’t think you needed the commotion.” He drank some tea. “Besides Scott and I work together. It’s easy for both of us.”

  “You don’t need to explain, son.” Charlie Maynard looked at his wife. “He made the right choice.” His words were directed at her.

  “Getting out of there was the right choice,” Grandma said as though she didn’t notice her husband’s comment.

  Hurt by their remarks, Billy said, “I don’t like how she gets so fanatical either, but she’s still my mom.”

  “Well, the two of us aren’t always on the same page is all.” Grandma Maynard said before she let it drop.

  “Let’s not go there, shall we?” Grandpa Maynard said.

  Billy downed his tea. “Grandpa, could we take a walk?”

  “Sure.”

  The two of them stood up to go.

  Grandma Maynard looked up from her place on the couch. “You two have a nice walk.”

  The air had turned cool outside. The night sky stretched clear and cloudless overhead.

  Billy looked at the ground, then at his grandfather. “You know why I’m here.”

  “I have my suspicions. Of course your mother did some ranting while on the phone last night. She actually wanted me to call Harry and have you let go.” He paused. “Or have Jack Roberts let go.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I don’t know, Billy.” They turned left at the street and headed into the wind. “At one time, I wanted Jack dead. What had happened bothered me and your grandmother for years. Almost broke us up. We had to get through a lot of pain. Did all sorts of things — support groups, counseling,” he shrugged his shoulders, “moved.”

  “Why Jack? What happened?”

  “We kept everything from you for a reason, you know? I want you to know that.”

  “Was Jack the driver?” Billy asked.

  Grandpa stopped and looked into the hills. His head tilted up. His chin stuck out, tight-skinned from gritting his teeth. “I get mad just thinking about it. But no, Jack wasn’t driving anything. Your mother will hate me even more for telling you this, but Jack Roberts beat your father to death.”

  Billy’s shoulders went weak and his lips pulled in. His chin wrinkled. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? How could you stand it?”

  “You know what worked best?” Grandpa said. “Seeing you almost every weekend. Once you were born that is. We started to focus on you. We decided to raise you just as we had our son.”

  Billy was speechless. He walked with his grandfather, followed him, really. There was too much information to comprehend clearly, so he listened and walked. Silent. In deep thought. “Your mother got in the way of our raising you. From the start she made it difficult, acted as though we owed her something. We began to resent her. I’m not proud to say this, but we let her rule. I decided,” he pointed at his chest with one quick motion, “that we’d go along with her — to the extreme. We couldn’t fight her. We were tired by then. Her energy was too great. She knew just what to say and when.”

  Grandpa Maynard had led them back to the house. As Billy assimilated what his grandfather had told him, he got up the nerve to ask, “Why would Jack do such a thing?”

  Grandpa Maynard cleared his throat. He lowered his eyes. “We’re not proud of any of this.” He stopped. “That’s why we don’t talk about it. That’s why we gave in.” He bit his lip. “It really wasn’t for you to know when you were younger. I hope you understand that. Of course, nobody really knows much. Only your mother, Jack, and William were there when it happened.

  “Where?” Billy prodded.

  Charlie Maynard stopped in his tracks and turned toward Billy. They stood in the drive. He grabbed both of Billy’s shoulders and squeezed. “This is hard. But I’m glad it’s me telling you and not your mother.” He took a deep breath. “Alice, well, William… William raped your mother.” He lowered his head.

  Billy pushed away. “What?”

  “She became pregnant with you. It wasn’t the first time William had assaulted someone.”

  “No. No, I won’t believe this. Why wasn’t I told? What’s Jack got to do with it? Why was he even there?”

  “It’s okay, Billy.” Grandpa Maynard said. Then he hugged Billy, who stood motionless.

  He forgot about Jack. There was a more pressing question on his mind. “Why did she have me? Why did you let her? If, if, I was unwanted?” Billy stuttered.

  “You weren’t unwanted. You were all we had of our William,” Grandpa said.

  Billy pulled away. He laughed. “I was the replacement for your son? A constant reminder to Mom about what had happened to her. No wonder she tells me she gave up her life for me.”

  He shook his head and backed away a few more steps. “What the hell kind of shit is this? No one wanted me — not the real me. I was a burden to Mom and a replacement for you. No wonder you always pushed me into sports. You wanted William back.”

  “No, Billy. It’s not like that. Once you were born—”

  “No!” Billy turned and ran back to his truck.

  He pulled onto the street and sped down the road, squealing his tires as he turned the corner. The night air stung his eyes as it rushed through the window. He pounded the steering wheel. He turned onto the Lamont River Road. There would be less traffic than if he went through town. Billy slid off the road on several turns, once getting the back end of the truck to slide along the road shoulder, throwing dirt and twisting the truck so that it jumped back onto the road at the wrong angle, squealing and turning into the wrong side of the road. Billy floored it and at the next turn almost hit a station wagon filled with kids. One face in particular stared at him in horror. Just before entering Route 22, Billy pulled over. His hands shook. His head turned back and forth, rejecting what he’d heard.

  Billy didn’t want to go to Scott’s house, couldn’t go home, and the library was closed. Not that he needed to read the papers now. A car passed, waited at the stop sign a few yards ahead of him, then turned onto 22. He wasn’t far from home, but didn’t want his mother to see him, even though it was unlikely that she would. He’d pass in front of his house, but be all the way out at the end of their drive. She couldn’t see through all the trees and bushes to the road. He drove quickly past the house anyhow and at 107 turned towards Shannon and Scott’s house, reducing his speed to a crawl so he could think.

  He had forgotten about Jack. What was Jack’s story? How did it fit in with Alice’s and Grandpa’s? He swore under his breath. Now who could he ask? Not Alice and not Grandpa Maynard. He didn’t want to see either of them for a while, not until he could think things through.

  He could hardly imagine what had happened. How could William have done such a thing? Always proud of the football hero, how could he look up to his father now?

  Billy pulled the truck off the road and jumped out quickly. He ran around the back and threw up. His stomach churned and his mind cluttered as he puked until nothing more came out of him. Kneeling at the side of the road, Billy cried out loud. He spit. He shook uncontrollably in the cold air. “I am not my father,” he said in a whisper. “I am not my father.”

  * * *

  Alice was being watched.

  She had known it and danced seductively until she realized who had come to see her. Then she stopped, facing him.

  His shirt was off and his bare skin glistened. He walked slowly, but was determined, stumbling once on his way over the bank. He grabbed at a sapling t
o catch his fall, but his eyes never left Alice.

  She reached up to untie her blouse and let it fall back over her midriff, then brought her hands to her shoulders. “What are you here for?” she said.

  “What have you got?”

  “Nothing for you.”

  He laughed. “It’s for everybody and you know it.”

  Alice stepped backwards, twisted her ankle as her foot fell between two rocks, and stumbled onto her butt. Water splashed around her and, as she sat there, seeped into her clothes, wetting her skirt and panties.

  “Don’t be scared.”

  “Stay away.” She moved in slow motion. “Leave me alone.” She turned to get up, but he shoved her back around.

  He reached down and ripped at her blouse, throwing several buttons, like bullets, into the water. Then he reached down and lifted her bra from its center bridge, letting both her breasts fall out.

  Alice fell back into the water and kicked at him. When that didn’t work she attempted to scoot backward, pushing with her arms and legs. Stones slid under her shoes and hands, slowing her progress.

  William dropped his pants and kneeled over her. He stared at her jiggling breasts and tore her panties to the side.

  Alice felt the pressure of the elastic band against the outside of her leg. The water flowed into her hair and around the back of her head. The tide pool was shallow, but how shallow? Holding her head up, she tried to kick herself backwards again, but it was no use. Her legs were spread and William had reached around them and grabbed her thighs to pull her toward him.

  He pushed into her and she screamed louder than she thought she could.

  Chapter 7

  Billy rose by the screaming alarm. He showered and dressed in clothes he had picked up from his house the day before. Scott’s alarm went off just as Billy walked out of the house and into the damp, cool air of the woods that closed Scott’s home in like a blanket. His stomach still churned, but had calmed enough where there was no more threat of being sick. What could he do? He contemplated going straight to the library, not that he’d learn anything new — although he might — but to gain additional details, some history. Still, he didn’t want to risk losing his job. Plus, the work would keep him occupied enough to clear his thoughts, to regroup. As he drove down the dirt road, he noticed how hot the rising sun felt coming through the windshield. He dredged up the emotions he had felt the prior evening — the ones that had plagued him all night. His eyes began to swell with tears, so he tried to focus on other thoughts. He knew that if his mind would only shift, his body would follow.

  Questions about himself and his father continued to worm their way into his mind. Would he end up a rapist? Were William and Alice dating? Who else may have been there? Jack, of course. Billy wanted answers. Yet, at the same time, he didn’t want to know their story, didn’t want to know what genetics could have handed him, didn’t want to know how Alice or the Maynards had felt, still felt, or anything else.

  Driving past the construction site, Billy pulled into an alley a few blocks away and parked the truck. The temperature was ten degrees warmer in town. He hopped out and walked out to Main, threw his empty coffee cup into a trash bin on the corner, and headed toward the bakery that Jack’s friend Todd ran. He ordered a buttered bagel and another cup of coffee, then sat in the corner, as far from the door as possible and with his back to it.

  The bagel, half gone, had helped his stomach settle. He stared at the blank wall in front of him. Then, from the side, Jack walked up, passed him, and slid into the seat across from him. Billy looked up and instantly told Jack, “I don’t think I’m ready for this.”

  “You looked like you needed a friend.”

  Billy said nothing, and it seemed as though they were going to just sit there. “I don’t know if I can handle what you might have to say.”

  Jack studied his hands. “When you are ready,” he said. “This isn’t the place anyhow.” Jack hesitated, then got up and left.

  Later, at work, Harry came over to Billy. “Your mother don’t own me,” he said. His breathing was heavy and tired. “Neither does Charlie Maynard. I ain’t scared of ‘em. None of ‘em. As long as you work good, I’ll keep you on.”

  Billy saw the thick bags beneath his eyes, the river basin wrinkles. He noticed the nicks where he’d cut himself shaving. “I’ll work as hard as I can,” Billy promised.

  “I know. I just wanted you to know I’m my own man. I did ‘em a favor hirin’ you that first time. But you kept the job. You’re a good kid. I just wanted you to know,” he repeated.

  Billy shook Harry’s hand. He didn’t know what else to do. When Billy turned back to the job roster, he noticed that he was still working with Mel.

  “Hey, Mel,” Billy said as he walked out back.

  “Let’s get to it. It’s gonna turn hot fast today, and we wanna be windin’ down this afternoon.” Mel handed Billy his trowel while talking. He had already mixed the cement.

  Billy noticed Jack, working with another man this time, on a lower roof section. They appeared to be doing trim-work. So Jack was back on the job, Billy thought.

  While putting finishing touches on the morning’s work, Billy saw Harry come around the corner.

  “Hey, Boss,” Mel yelled down. He put his materials down and nodded toward Billy. “He wants to talk.”

  Sweat beaded along Billy’s upper lip and forehead. When he wiped his lip on his shirtsleeve little happened. The sleeve was soaked as well. He and Mel stepped down on either side of the scaffolding about the same time.

  Once they were closer, Harry began. “Mel, you can finish up this afternoon. I’ll have a couple of the kids clean up for you. Billy, you’re workin’ with Hillman on the side roof. It’s not that high up.”

  “I’m not afraid of heights,” Billy interrupted.

  “You say that now. But get you up a couple stories and see what’s said,” Harry told him. “We’ll start with the side roof. Hillman’s a pro. He’ll teach you a lot.” He turned to Mel again. “You, Mr. Brick-Man, they need downtown. That newly collapsed building. Seems their man didn’t notice how bad the damage really was. I told ‘em you were the best. Told them you could see through the walls.”

  Mel stretched his stocky body to its full height as if proud to be called the best at anything. “Yes, sir.”

  “You might have to work late. Take one of the kids with you. Any one. Get ‘im to take notes. I want a full assessment of what it’ll take. Be fair, these guys won the bid and this’ll be costin’ them profit-money.” Harry turned away and walked off. He was through talking.

  Billy went over and slapped the ear-to-ear smiling Mel on the back. “The best.” Billy said. “Mister Brick-Man.”

  “That was nice of ‘im,” Mel said.

  “It’s the truth,” Billy said. “Accept it. You’re good.”

  “Mabel says I’m good fer nothin’.”

  “Well, Mabel’s wrong this time.”

  At lunch, Billy found Scott waiting for him at the truck. “Going okay this morning?” Scott asked.

  “Yeah. I’ll be with Hillman this afternoon working on the side roof.” Billy picked up his sub and unrolled it.

  “That’s hot work,” Scott said.

  “Build my tan.”

  “That it will. Hillman’s a good guy,” Scott told him. Then he went right into it with his next question. “What did your grandfather tell you?”

  Billy’s stomach tightened. “Not enough,” he said. “I got too upset, mouthed off, and ran away like some little kid. I’m not too proud of the way I acted, but I’m glad I did it.” Billy laughed. “With every little bit of information, a thousand questions arise.”

  “Want someone to talk with?”

  “Jack asked me that same question this morning.”

  “He did?” Scott said. “He could probably tell you a hell of a lot more than I could. But I’m a good listener.” Scott opened the door for Billy. “Just tell me when to butt out.”

 
Billy sat down and closed the door. “Grandpa said that Mom was raped by my dad. It appears that William had done it before. To someone else.”

  “But your name?” Scott asked.

  “That’s been bugging me all night. I think Mom did that to hurt them. To get back at them for what William did.”

  “Jesus. Why get married then?”

  “Probably didn’t. That’s all I can figure. If what you told me before was true about Grandpa’s political involvement, they probably drummed up the wedding paperwork before they moved. I haven’t thought about it much to tell you the truth. My head has kind of been stuck on the fact that I’m the product of rape. That Mom really didn’t want me. That Dad and Mom weren’t in love.”

  “Whoa. Slow down. That sort of thinking won’t get you anywhere.”

  “It’s history,” Billy retorted.

  “Their history, not yours. Don’t let this new information change the way you see yourself.

  “That’s hard. Everything in my past that just didn’t ring true at the time, the things I thought were just my inability to understand, have all turned color. Now, they didn’t ring true because they weren’t true.”

  “I don’t know what to say. Whatever their past indicates, you still turned out fine. You’re the same person. None of this information changes who you are today.” Scott waited for a response and when he didn’t get one he asked, “What’s Jack’s part in this?”

  “That’s where I fucked up, got pissed, and ran off. All I know is that Jack somehow witnessed the rape. He beat William to death. Maybe that’s all I need to know.

  Neither of them spoke for a long time.

  “I don’t know what I want anymore,” Billy said. “I want to know everything, the whole truth, one minute, then want to be left completely alone and in the dark the next minute.”

  “You can’t run away from it now.”

  “God dammit, Scott, I’m leaving. Do you understand?” Billy held his half-eaten sub in one hand and pointed out from his side with his other, indicating that he’d be going far away. “I don’t want to be anywhere near these people. They’ve wanted me out for a long time. I’m an uncomfortable reminder to have around. Well, fuck them. Fuck them all. I’ll leave.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “I will, God dammit.”