Halversham

by RS Anthony

  “What do you mean you think?” she asked, raising her voice above the drone of rain pelting the roof while scooping stew from a large pot on the stove.

  “With him, I can’t be sure.” Andy smiled.

  He pulled a chair in front of the steaming stew Aunt Magda set on the table. He began to sit when he remembered the money he needed to give her. Andy straightened and pulled the wallet from his pocket. As soon as he placed the wad of cash in his aunt’s hand, the back door burst open and Uncle Matt stepped in, dripping wet and eyes filled with rage. Along with the windswept rain came a whiff of alcohol in his breath as he kicked the door shut.

  “Sonofabitch had to rain now of all time!” he said with a scowl, and Aunt Magda froze, the money resting on her palm. It was too late—he had seen it. Andy was still standing, holding his wallet. “Well, don’t just stand there and gawk. Hand me the towel, will ya?” he said to Aunt Magda, pointing at the towel Andy had used earlier. She did, and he wiped his sopping hair. “What’s that?” he asked casually a few seconds later.

  Aunt Magda was visibly trembling and her eyes went to Andy’s face.

  “My dad gave her some money,” Andy lied. Aunt Magda’s eyes filmed and her lips quivered as Uncle Matt focused his eyes on her hand. “He wanted her to have it, just in case.”

  “Your father came to the rescue just in time, I’d say. See, I have to buy some farming equipment and there’s this man who’s willing to sell it for a bargain. But he’s leaving town tonight so I have to get it right away. Only problem is I spent what money I had on goat feed.” He looked up from the towel and smiled at Aunt Magda’s hand. “Why don’t you hand me that money so I can tend to our farm?”

  Andy clenched his teeth in silent rage as Uncle Matt smiled and took a step toward Aunt Magda. She dropped her gaze to the floor, ready to surrender the money. Andy could not in good conscience allow it to happen, but at the same time, he didn’t want to get into trouble with his uncle for a little over a hundred dollars. He’d gladly give her twice the amount as long as he didn’t hurt her. In the end, Uncle Matt snatched the money from Aunt Magda and counted it.

  “A hundred and thirty-eight dollars?” he asked incredulously and turned to face Andy. “Your father gave his beloved sister a hundred and thirty-eight dollars? What kind of joke is this?” Uncle Matt’s eyes were bulging. Andy had rushed to save Aunt Magda with the worst possible explanation, and all he could do now was gulp. “You people take me for a fool?” he thundered, whirling back to Aunt Magda. Tears were now streaming down her face as she stifled her sobs. “Where’s the rest of it?”

  Aunt Magda shook her head helplessly. “This is all there…”

  “Do I look like an idiot to you? Give me the rest of the money!”

  “There is no more,” Andy said, gritting his teeth.

  “You shut up!” Uncle Matt screamed without taking his eyes off Aunt Magda. “Give me the rest of the money, you bitch!”

  “This is all I have,” she said weakly, but before she could finish, Uncle Matt had landed a thick slap on her face. She jerked to the side, lost her balance, and fell to the floor, clutching her cheek. Like a madman, Uncle Matt began to kick Aunt Magda repeatedly with his plated boots.

  “Where is it? Where is it, bitch?” He shouted again and again.

  Andy couldn’t stand to watch it so he scanned around for something to thwart the attack. He inched to a drawer and pulled it open. A bunch of knives glinted in the light but his eyes zoomed in on a cleaver. He took a step forward while Aunt Magda covered her face with her arms, pleading for Uncle Matt to stop. Andy bunched his fist, mustered his courage and punched the monster kicking his aunt in the face, taking him by surprise. His uncle stopped kicking and staggered briefly. Andy pointed the cleaver at him, ready to swing it to his face. He held the cleaver before him and moved over to block his fallen aunt from the monster.

  “You hit her one more time, I’ll kill you,” Andy said, his lips curled.

  Uncle Matt glanced at his whimpering wife on the floor and then glared at Andy and the cleaver. Then he turned around, opened the back door, and ran out into the rain.

  Andy closed the door and helped Aunt Magda up. Uncle Matt had kicked her so hard that the skin on her hands had come off in some parts when she tried to shield herself. Her lip was ripped, and it was bleeding as she cried.

  “I’m so sorry, Aunt Magda. Let me help you to your room.” She could hardly walk, but managed to shuffle to her bed half bent. As Andy turned around to get her some water from the kitchen, she gripped his hand. “Yes?”

  Her lips trembled and she struggled to speak through her swollen mouth. “Don’t tell your father. And don’t report this to the police.”

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Magda. But I have to tell the police.”

  “No.” Her voice was strangled. “I know your Uncle Matt. He won’t do it again now that you’ve waved a cleaver at him. Not for a while.” Andy was shaking his head. “If he does it one more time, you can go ahead and report it. For now we must give him one last chance.”

  Although he did not agree with her at all, Andy didn’t want to argue with her in her condition. So he nodded reluctantly. “In that case, I’ll stay here from now on. I don’t know when or in what state he’ll be back but I want to be able to protect you when he does.”

  “Fine,” she nodded.

  “And I am telling my father. I can’t hide this from him.”

  “As you wish. Just make sure he doesn’t fly back because of this.” Andy took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Now run to the kitchen and bring me the white bag in the upper right-hand corner of the cabinet. You’ll find everything we need to treat me in it.”

  ***

  “Hi, Piffy. Can you do me a favor and bring my bag over to Aunt Magda’s? I won’t be back for a while,” Andy said into the phone half an hour later.

  “Sure. Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah. I just want to spend some time with my aunt. That’s all. Can you bring it tonight?”

  “Of course.”

  Next, Andy dialed his father. Aunt Magda was sleeping in her bedroom after administering her own treatment. She had stitched her lip up after taking a few swigs from a bottle of whisky. Andy had struggled to hold the mirror steady as his own tears poured down his face. Just how often had she had to do it?

  “Hello?”

  “Dad?”

  “Son? Is everything all right?”

  “Yes and no. It’s Aunt Magda.”

  “What happened?”

  Andy told his father everything and Paul listened without a word. When Andy finally finished, his father cursed.

  “Andy, listen to me. Stay with your aunt from now on, especially when he comes home at night. He might hurt her again, but he’ll be more careful if you’re around. I wish she’d go to the police, but I know how stubborn your aunt can be. We’ll wait for her to get a little better and then I’ll talk her into reporting this. I don’t care what she says anymore. I want that bastard dragged to jail. Right now, I want you to go in there and take photos of her face and everywhere else she’s bruised. I know some of it might be hidden under her clothes, but take as many as you can without her finding out. We’ll need them later. Is this the first time he’s hit her since you arrived there?”

  “No. She told me he hit her and took the money you gave her when you came to send me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

  “I wanted to, but she made me promise.”

  “Fine. I’ll know what to say when I talk to her. Now, make sure you do as I said and take those pictures. And son, please be careful around him.”

  Andy nodded and hung up. Piffy arrived with his bag a few minutes later, and he put it in Corrine’s room. He opened the camera app on his iPhone, went back to Aunt Magda’s bedroom, and took pictures as his father had instructed. She was sleeping and a soft whistle escaped through her nose. Bile rose in his throat as he took close-up shots of the bruises and wounds. Bl
ood had caked up at the corner of her lips and her hands were raw from repeated kicking. When he was finally done, Andy went to the hall, stretched his legs on the couch, and closed his eyes, allowing the droning rain to lull him to sleep.

  ***

  Andy was woken up in the middle of the night by a persistent hand shaking his shoulders. He blinked in the cold dark room, trying to orientate himself to the unfamiliar shapes around him, and remembered the unfortunate beating.

  “What are you doing here?” Corrine asked, her face appearing upside down from behind the couch.

  Andy blinked a few more times and sat up. “What time is it?” he asked, ignoring Corrine’s question.

  “It’s two in the morning.”

  Andy went to Aunt Magda’s room and found her sleeping alone, her body curled toward the wall. Andy pulled the door but left it slightly ajar.

  “Did you just get home?”

  “Yes. Why were you sleeping on the couch and why is your bag in my room?”

  “Come with me,” he said and they went back to the hall. “Uncle Matt caught me handing Aunt Magda the money from this morning. I told him it was from my father. Then he came up with some nonsense about how he needed money to buy farming equipment. But it was a hundred and thirty-eight dollars so he went crazy and beat her up believing she had hid the rest of it.”

  Much to Andy’s surprise, Corrine laughed.

  “You were dumb enough to hand it over in front of him?”

  “No, it was still early. I didn’t think he’d come home yet. It was pouring when he burst through the door, and he was drunk.”

  Corrine shrugged and turned away. “Well, it’s nothing new. He beats her all the time.”

  “It's really bad, Corrine. She may need a week or more to recover fully. I’m going to stay here and look after her, but I work for Milton now. The old man won’t respond kindly if I ask for days off so soon after starting,” Andy said. “I need your help.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Stay home and look after her when I’m not around.”

  “No way!”

  “Shhh... She’s your mother and she needs help. I threatened your father with a cleaver and it looks like he won’t be coming back tonight. But if he returns tomorrow when I’m not around, I need your help to protect her.”

  Corrine snorted. “You want me to protect her? Where was she when I needed her protection?”

  Andy rose from the couch in anger, ready to curse, but halted when he remembered Corrine’s past.

  “Look, your vengeance is of no use. You have the chance to turn your life around now for something better. With my father’s help, we just might be able to get you out of Halversham to start over in the city. But when are you going to stop being so bitter?” Corrine remained silent. “You’re happy he beat her up, aren’t you? He could be a monster and you’d still like him more than her.”

  “I hate both of them, Andy. I think I told you that before,” she shot back. “Neither of them is innocent or good. Now, I’m not going to stay here and do your bidding just because you have a soft heart. You care so much about her, then quit your stupid job and stay here and look after her yourself. As for me going to the city, what are the chances your father will even consider it, Andy? Everybody knows he abandoned his sister the moment he escaped this shitty town. He didn’t come back until your mother intervened, did he? So don’t preach from your high horse.”

  With that, Corrine stormed off into her room, slamming the door behind her.

  Chapter 9

  Andy woke up at eight to make coffee. He soft-boiled an egg, heated chicken soup, and arranged everything on a tray before checking up on Aunt Magda. Just as he had suspected, Uncle Matt had not returned. Andy didn’t want to rouse his aunt, but he didn’t want her to go hungry either. Finally, he reached out and tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Aunt Magda, wake up.” She stirred and turned to face him, struggling to open her eyes. The bruises on her face and hands were a dark purple now. “I have your breakfast here.”

  “I’m not hungry, Andy. I’m tired. I just want to sleep.”

  “I know. Have something to eat and then you can go back to sleep. Here, I brought some soup and egg.”

  She lifted her head, and Andy propped the pillows behind her. He fed her the soup first, and although she couldn’t open her mouth wide, she managed to finish half the bowl. Next he gave her the egg, and she finished that too, but the coffee was difficult. Instead of letting her sip from the cup, he poured it into an empty bowl and spoon fed it to her until she couldn’t drink anymore.

  “I’m going to sleep now,” she said and curled up again. Andy was sorry for her, but there was nothing more he could do. He brought the tray back to the kitchen and washed everything. The bowl of stew Aunt Magda had heartily served him just before he handed her the money last night still stood on the table. Andy threw it away, cleaned the kitchen, did the laundry, and took out the trash before getting ready for Mr. Milton’s.

  He felt sick to his stomach about leaving Aunt Magda alone, but he had no choice. If only Corrine would have a change of heart and stay behind to look after her mother, his hands wouldn’t be shaking so much. But it was unlikely, given her disdain for Aunt Magda.

  He stopped by Dorrie’s to pick up more dog food and made a brief stop to give Brutus some treats before climbing up the steps.

  Up at Milton’s place, Andy brought the lawn mower out, checked the fuel, and started it. He spent the morning mowing Milton’s lawn, his mind drawn back to Corrine. She had practically accused his father of abandoning them. And it wasn’t a lie. In fact, it was typical of him. Although he had always provided financially, he was never really present in anyone’s life physically. Maybe it was time Andy talked to him.

  Two hours later, Andy headed in for a drink of water. Although he had skipped breakfast, he had no appetite for lunch. He had bought some sandwiches at Dorrie’s, but the bag sat untouched on Mr. Milton’s kitchen counter. How could he eat when Aunt Magda was all beaten up because of him? He could have kicked himself for the bad timing and the lame explanation. If only he had been more careful, they might have avoided everything that ensued.

  And then there was Uncle Matt, the monster. There was no way Andy was going to let the man roam around freely as if everything was fine. Andy and his father had kept from interfering in Aunt Magda’s affairs long enough, and it was time they did something. In another day or two, when Aunt Magda was feeling better, his father promised to convince her to go to the police while her bruises still showed. But more needed to be done.

  Andy was contemplating running back to the house to check up on her when the old man came down with his jug and sat in the kitchen. Andy swallowed to calm his nerves, staring at the peculiar lumps all over the man’s face one moment and averting his eyes the next. He didn’t want to be rude, but he wasn’t sure which action constituted rudeness in this instance.

  “Why aren’t you eating?” Mr. Milton asked, pointing at Andy’s sandwich.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  Mr. Milton nodded. After a long minute of silence, he said, “I first met your mother when she came to feed the dogs at the foot of the hill.” Andy tried to search the man’s eyes for a reason for the unexpected conversation, but nothing was revealed in the two slits. “I’d watch her sometimes but usually just went about my business. There were a lot of trees around this house then, and I’d tend to them myself. One day I was on a ladder sawing the branch of a maple tree when I lost my footing and fell. Your mother heard me scream while feeding the dogs down there and rushed up to help. She helped me up, made coffee, and called for help for my sprained ankle.” Milton shook his head at the memory. “She wasn’t put off by how I looked, you know,” he said, rubbing his bulbous jaw absently.

  “Where are those dogs now?” Andy asked when the man didn’t say anything else.

  The old man rose abruptly and glared at Andy. “I’m not paying you for idle chat, I’m payi
ng you to work. Right now, I want you to get out there and mow my lawn,” he said and shuffled to the water filter to fill his jug. Andy was taken aback by the sudden change of mood, but he remained cool. “How much longer do you need?” the old man barked.

  “I should be done before I leave today. Otherwise, I’ll need another day.”

  “Well, you can clean my attic once you’re done out there,” he said, pointing his chin to the back door.

  “Attic?”

  “Yeah. It’s been a while since anybody went up there and I’m guessing it’s filthy. I’m sure it’ll keep you busy.”

  Or keep him from snooping around the ground floor, where the trapdoor to the basement was. “Sure,” Andy said at last. There’d be time enough to find the answers.

  Just before the clock struck four, Andy locked Mr. Milton’s back door and ran down the stairs, whistling for Brutus. He had to feed the dog but he was also anxious to get back to Aunt Magda’s. By the time he was pouring the contents of the canned food into Brutus’s bowl, his stomach was in a knot. What if Uncle Matt had come home to find Aunt Magda alone and shaken her for money she didn’t have? Andy patted Brutus one last time before sprinting off.

  Fifteen minutes later, he was on Aunt Magda’s doorstep, pulling the door open frantically. He entered the kitchen and hurried to Aunt Magda’s room to find her curled up just the way he had left her that morning. He stepped in and was reassured when her chest rose and fell steadily. Andy tiptoed back into the kitchen where a large pot sat on the stove. He lifted the lid—there was warm porridge in it, a good portion of it gone. Andy went to Corrine’s room to dump his backpack, but to his surprise, it was locked. Andy knocked and after a few moments the knob finally turned, Corrine’s face appearing as she pulled the door open.

  “You stayed,” Andy said.

  “Yeah. I stayed.” She didn’t look happy. Corrine left him standing in the doorway and plopped on her bed.

  “Thanks for helping out. I appreciate it.”

  “I only did it as a favor to you. So don’t go thinking I care about her. I don’t.” Andy smiled. He closed the door behind him and crossed the room to sit in a chair. “What’s so funny?” she asked, frowning.