by Carian Cole
Vandal
There’s no escape from this nightmare I’m trapped in. Sleep brings no relief. I see her in my dreams, smiling at me, reaching for my hand. I can hear her tiny, sweet voice, her innocent giggle. Then I wake and reality rushes into my veins, washing her away, taking her from me over and over again.
“Maybe you should stay at my place for a few days?” Lukas suggests, watching me cram my shit into the plastic bag the nurse gave me for my things. My clothes are covered in blood, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s mine, Katie’s, or Renee’s. Today I get to leave the hospital, and tomorrow I bury my five-year-old daughter. All I want to do is find a scalpel in this hospital and hide in the bathroom and cut myself.
“No,” I say.
“You can come stay with us,” Storm offers, putting his arm around his fiancée, Evie. I smirk at my cousin. Like I really want to stay with these two disgustingly happy people who can’t keep their hands off each other and smile fucking non-stop. That scalpel is calling my name.
“We’d love to have you stay with us, Vandal. I’ve got homemade chili cooking in the crockpot. Storm said it’s one of your favorites.” Evie smiles up at me, but shrinks back from my cold stare. Blizzard Chick is her nickname. Now I remember. I step closer to her and she sinks into Storm’s side a little.
“I hafta bury my fuckin’ kid tomorrow. You think I want to sit around with you two fucks and eat chili?”
I enjoy watching the smile disappear from her face and the way she looks down at the floor. That’s right, honey, don’t even look at me. I will fucking eat your soul. Storm glares at me, torn between saving his girlfriend from the big bad wolf and letting me expel my rage a little. Someday he’ll learn he can’t love everybody.
Lukas touches my arm. “Vandal, take it easy. We’re all just trying to help.”
I shrug him off. “I don’t want any help. I don’t want anything.”
Except my daughter. And if I can’t have her, I’ll take that scalpel now so I can cut this pain out of my body.
I grab my bag. “Can we go?” Lukas is supposed to drive me home since my new Mustang is now a mangled mess of metal, glass, and death.
“No, we have to wait for the doctor to come back and discharge you, and there’s some other stuff that needs to be taken care of. I told you this already, did you forget?”
I roll my eyes and sit on the bed. I need to get home and get away from everybody. They’re smothering me with all their good intentions and attention, and I have no idea how to accept either from them, thanks to me coming from the fucked up side of this family—meaning the father I haven’t seen since I was five. I only just found out I had a brother and a clan of cousins a little more than five years ago. Needless to say, I am adjusting to the whole family thing a lot slower than they are.
“Get out of my way.” A familiar female voice snarls.
I turn toward the commotion at my door to see Deb pushing her way past Storm into my room. I knew she would show up eventually.
“You,” she says, pointing at me, barely standing up straight. I don’t know if she’s drunk or just mentally distraught. Possibly both. “You killed my daughter,” she chokes out. “You’re a fucking murderer.”
I rise to my feet, grab the IV trolley, and step towards the woman who gave birth to the only person I’ve ever loved. “You made me do this, Deb. Your fucking selfish, crazy control-freak tantrum caused this.” I punch the wall next to her, and my fist goes through drywall. “She’d be alive right now if you had just let her stay for one more night. Really, Deb? You had to fucking threaten me and force me to drive in the middle of the night when I told you I was fucking exhausted?”
“I hate you! You killed my baby!” she shrieks, and starts to smack and kick me.
Storm grabs her and pulls her off me. “Deb, please. This is not the time or place for this.” His voice is low as he holds her back.
“He should be in prison! He’s a murderer!”
“No one’s going to prison, Deb,” Lukas says, stepping between us. “It was an accident. A horrible fucking accident. You should just leave. Nobody needs this. We’re all upset.”
She glares at me over Lukas’s shoulder as Storm tries to drag her out the door. “I’m going to make you suffer for this, Vandal! You fucking baby killer!”
“I’ve been suffering my whole life, you cunt. Don’t ever come near me again. We have nothing more to say to each other.” A security guard enters the room and yanks Deb out as my doctor comes in right behind them. “I know this is a stressful situation, but can you people please remember this is a hospital? There are sick people here,” he scolds, as if we’re all stupid.
I can’t hold back my sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, one just got dragged away.”
“What happened here?” He points to the hole in the wall. “You’re going to have to pay for this damage, Mr. Valentine.”
“Fine. Whatever. Can I just go home now?”
The good doctor eyes my hand. “I’m going to have the nurse come in and get your hand cleaned up first. And might I suggest you talk to the psychiatrist on staff? I think you are going to need some anger and grief counseling, Mr. Valentine.”
Lukas nods in agreement. “I think that’s a good idea, Van. Someone to talk to …”
“Fuck. No. I don’t talk.” What I really need is to go home and talk to my good friend Jack Daniels for a few hours.
“Your brother is right,” Doc says to me, and hands Lukas a business card. “This is her information. Maybe when things … settle a bit, he can give her a call.”
“He’s still in the room,” I say sarcastically. “And he’s not talking to a shrink.”
I sit impatiently on the bed as the nurse cleans and bandages my bleeding and swollen knuckles. Apparently only one nurse and one doctor are allowed to treat me while I’m here to diminish the chances of hospital staff who could be fans of the band swarming in here. I have a feeling my aunt and uncle somehow paid for that to happen.
“Mr. Valentine, I’m hesitant to give you a prescription for sedatives in your current state, although I do think you need something to help you calm down,” the doctor comments. I didn’t even hear him come back into the room.
“Don’t worry, Doc. I’m not going to take the whole bottle. Been there, done that.”
“Vandal … come on, man,” Storm voices from his corner of the room, his fiancée hanging on to his hand as if she’s afraid she might get lost if she lets go.
“What, Storm? You don’t want to talk about all the stuff that me, you, and my little bro here have in common?”
I watch him look uneasily at his fiancée, Evie, and I know that he hasn’t told her about his own little trip to the psych ward years ago. Of course I wasn’t part of the family when that happened, but I know all about it thanks to Google. And my younger brother, who I actually kinda like, has deep, telltale scars on both his wrists that even his tattoos can’t hide from my knowing eyes.
Funny how much we all have in common, how parallel our lives were, even though we didn’t grow up together.
***
Just when I think I can leave, Aria, Asher, my lawyer, Sam, our band manager, Don, and our publicist, Helen, all parade into the room.
“What the fuck now? I want to get out of here.”
“Vandal, we have to talk about the incident and damage control so you and the band and your family don’t get dragged into all sorts of gossip and bad press,” Helen says, taking the chair next to my bed. She pulls out an iPad and starts tapping away on it. Bitch is probably updating her Facebook status. “For once, one of your fuck-ups has actually helped save your ass. You forgot to change your birth certificate back to your biological name of Vandal Valentine like you were supposed to do. So, legally you are still Alex Dawson.” Well, at least my adoptive parents did something right. Helen continues, “Therefore, all the accident reports have that name because all of your identification still has it.”
“Vandal, next week I need you
to come into my office so we can get all this straightened out with you using your biological name again,” Sam says.
“Okay … I’ll call you and set up a time,” I reply. I completely forgot about changing my name back legally. Once Gram found me and told me what my real name was, I started using it right away and wasn’t worried about filing paperwork. I just wanted a new beginning with the name that was given to me.
“Deb is not doing well emotionally, which is understandable,” Aria says. “We’ve offered her a large sum of money to not speak to the press about Katie’s accident, or to mention your name, or the band’s, or anything of that nature, and have had her sign nondisclosure agreements and other legal documents that I’m sure you don’t want to be bothered with. The bottom line is, she’ll be quiet.”
“So that bitch is making money off of our daughter’s death? Are you fucking kidding me?”
Aria touches my shoulder. “Vandal, it’s fine. If it keeps her quiet, so be it. We can afford it. Don’t worry about it or waste time thinking about it, please.”
“Thankfully, due to the fact that this is a very small town and your grandparents, aunt, uncle and cousins are so well known and liked, we were also able to pay a few people at the scene to keep quiet and had them sign documents as well. Also, since the band is made up of family members, there is no worry of any of them talking or selling a story, and the few people that work closely with the band have also agreed to silence and signed legal documents.”
“I’d be willing to sell his story for a price,” Asher says, half joking.
“Shouldn’t you be up on the fourth floor right about now?” I shoot back at him.
“Guys, that’s enough,” Aria scolds. “Asher, that is not even funny, and Vandal, that was uncalled for.”
My cousin and I glare at each other.
Helen snaps her fingers at us. “The hospital has been wonderful with keeping your visit here discreet. All staff that handled your case, Katie’s, and Renee’s have also signed non-disclosure agreements. Renee’s only relative that she had any contact with was her older brother, and he showed no interest in you, or her, for that matter. He almost seemed relieved that she was gone. Apparently she had been in and out of rehab for most of her life.”
“Excellent choice in women,” Asher says.
I flip him my middle finger. “Go fuck yourself.”
“You two better bury the hatchet.” Don stands and paces the room. “We are all tired of it and it’s doing nothing to help the band. This is some serious shit happening. You aren’t playing in your basement anymore.”
“Lastly,” Helen continues, “both funeral homes have agreed to total discretion and all of those matters have been, and will be, handled accordingly. I believe we have covered all of our bases to ensure that no part of this tragedy ends up in the wrong hands, at least to the best of our abilities. Yesterday we issued a brief press kit stating that there had been a horrible accident, and we ask for sympathy and privacy for everyone involved during this difficult time. I suggest you lay low for a while, Vandal.”
“Thanks for all your help with everything,” I say, my head spinning just thinking about how much money was forked over to keep people quiet. I don’t even want to know where that money is coming from.
***
I don’t say anything as Lukas drives me home. Time feels fucked to me, as if it’s been years since the accident when in fact it was only three days ago.
“I could stay with you for a few days so you’re not alone.”
“I like being alone. I’m used to it.” My voice sounds flat and empty, even to me.
He glances away from the road for a moment to read my face. “You don’t have to be. I know what it feels like, Vandal. My life wasn’t much different than yours. The difference is that now, I’m trying to make it better.”
I stare out the window and into the trees. “I let myself get close to Katie and now she’s gone, Lukas. I think it’s pretty clear I was never meant to have a family.”
“You still have the rest of us. We’re not going anywhere.”
I know Lukas had a fucked up childhood, as I did. Born six years after me, our father abandoned him when he was just a baby with an eighteen-year-old mother, who gave him to her grandparents to raise until they passed, and he ended up as a teenager in the foster system. When we met for the first time five years ago, he was so excited to have a big brother and a bunch of cousins that neither one of us had ever met. Of course I was a huge disappointment as a brother, being the anti-social asshole that I am. And how could I compare to our perfect Valentine cousins and their equally perfect parents?
The kid didn’t give up, though. He was determined to be a part of my life, and for us to walk into the welcoming fold of our new family. Slowly, slowly, I’ve tried to let myself accept these people as family, and they’re actually pretty cool. I still struggle with it, though.
Lukas pulls into the long driveway of my house and puts the car in park.
“Should I come inside with you?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No. I need to do this alone.” I stare out the windshield at the house, which looks lonelier than ever. “Lukas, thanks for being there the past few days. You know I’m not good at this shit and my head is really fucked right now, but I do appreciate you being around.”
“Anytime. If you need anything, just call, okay? I don’t care what it is, or what time it is … anything.”
I reach into the back seat and grab my bag. “Thanks, man.”
He coughs and hesitates for a second. “Tomorrow … I can come and get you, we can go together.”
My chest tightens up at the thought of tomorrow. I want to somehow stall time and put off tomorrow for a few years. Fuck, put it off forever. I’m not ready to bury my baby. I will never be ready to say goodbye to my Katie.
I press my fingers against my forehead. “Uh, yeah. I think that might be good. I don’t think I can …” I swallow hard and fight back the tears threatening to start and never stop. I can’t fucking deal with any of this.
“Vandal, say no more. I’ll be here in the morning. I’ll have Ivy meet me there. Are you gonna be okay?”
Letting my head fall back onto the seat rest, I shake it back and forth. “Fuck no. I’m never gonna be okay again, Lukas.”
“We all loved her. She was a great little kid. But you gotta try to just hang on, ya know? I know all this shit is tearing you apart, but don’t let it drag you under. Okay?”
“Yeah,” I say absently. “Be here tomorrow.”
I get out of the car before I lose my shit in front of him. No fucking way am I going to break down in front of anyone.
Walking into my house, I don’t feel like I’m home at all. I bought this house two years ago when I was finally given joint custody of Katie. I wanted her to have her own bedroom when she stayed with me, and a nice yard to play in. I tried to give her some kind of normalcy within my crazy lifestyle. Not that I have any idea what normal is.
And now it doesn’t matter, because she’s gone.
***
The house feels eerie. Too quiet. There’s no life here anymore. Just like that, in a moment, everything is gone. I never had a family, I never even wanted a family, and then suddenly I had an unplanned child with some crazy bitch that I fucked after a concert and kept around for a little while to party with. Next thing I know I’m a father and fighting the world just to see my own kid. I lost the first three years of her life because I was too fucked up to be a parent, and now I’ve lost the rest of her life because her mother just wanted to be a bitch. Katie was an angel and deserved so much better than two messed up people as parents. Maybe that’s why she was taken away.
I slowly walk down the dark hallway and stop at Katie’s doorway. Her pink nightlight is on, illuminating the room. I don’t want to go in, but I can’t stop myself. The mix of her presence and her void is completely overwhelming, and I fall to my knees in the middle of the room. The pain in my chest is like
nothing I have ever felt before, as if my heart is being ripped from my body and sliced into tiny pieces. I want her back so bad. I want to just feel her tiny hand in mine and tuck her into bed.
Lifting my head, my eyes fall on Teddy, Katie’s coveted bear that she left here to ‘take care of me’. I crawl to the small bed and lie my head next to the little bear that, just a few days ago, we tucked into her blankets together until she’d be back. Pressing my face against the little bear, I can’t hold back my tears anymore.
Vandal
I’m a shadow at my daughter’s funeral. The pain I feel in my heart and soul has turned me into a catatonic zombie. I’m there, but I’m not. I stand next to the tiny, white closed casket as people file by and spill out meaningless words awkwardly. I say nothing.
Closed casket. Anyone who’s ever had a person they love end up in a closed casket knows something horrifying is going on under that lid. I know it. I can’t stop thinking about it. I want to pry it open and see my baby. I want to see the damage that I caused so I can torture myself with it for the rest of my life. I want to feel the pain that she must have endured. I want to live in it and suffer in it like I deserve to.
“Vandal?” My grandmother’s scratchy voice pulls me from my thoughts.
I turn and have to drop my eyes over a foot to meet Gram’s. She squeezes my hand. “Don’t turn to dark places¸ sweetie. Katie will always be watching over you.”
“Gram …”
She tugs at my hand and I follow because there’s no way to deny Gram what she wants. She’s five feet of white-haired awesome. This is the woman who found me five years ago when she realized her estranged son had two grown children that he’d never told her about. She’s the one who insisted Lukas and I get equal shares of my grandfather’s millions. Gram changed my life. If only she had found us sooner.
She leads me outside to the porch of the funeral home. The fresh air feels good and helps to clear my head a little bit.