“I wish I could say that I’m getting use to any of this, but that would be a lie,” Tom declared.
“God, do I need a shower! I’ll even take a cold one-I have never felt so funky in my entire life!” Erin exclaimed.
“The good news is that we have a gas hot water heater at the house, so we can at least enjoy a hot shower.”
“Awesome-I can’t wait!”
Erin told Tom how to get to her apartment, which wasn’t far from downtown Worthington. He parked in front of the four-story brick structure and kept the car running.
“You want to come in? It will just take me a minute or two,” Erin said.
“Yes, I do. It’s going to be dark as pitch inside.”
“Forgot about that.”
Tom grabbed the flashlight and followed Erin up the walk. Erin led the way inside and up to the second floor. Her apartment door was still wide open-the way Kyle had apparently left it.
“Can I borrow the flashlight? I need to find my clothes,” she said.
“Sure,” Tom replied, handing it to her.
Tom stood near the door and watched Erin as she made her way across the small living room to her bedroom. He heard her rummaging around for several moments before she came out carrying a backpack. She went into the bathroom, stuffed some items into the backpack then rejoined Tom.
“Now take me to where that hot shower awaits!” she smiled.
Back in the Jeep, Tom yawned for what had to be the twentieth time since leaving New York. He tried to recall the last time he’d slept and realized it had been the night before while parked in front of Macy’s-about forty-five minutes worth in all before being rudely awakened by Chappy and his cronies.
He needed about eight uninterrupted hours of shuteye and a square meal.
After a shower.
He turned onto his street, pulled up in front of his house and did a double take There was a car parked in the driveway!
Although he didn’t recognize the car, its presence could only be good news: maybe someone had brought his family back home!
“Whose car is that?” Erin said.
“I don’t know but I’m hoping that Peg and the kids are in there right now. Maybe somebody found them!”
“That would be great!”
Tom pulled up behind the car and shut of the engine. He glanced at the license plate and recognized the name of the auto dealership advertised on the frame, which was located in Smithtown.
That was odd, to say the least.
“Maybe you’d better stay here while I check this out, come to think of it,” he told Erin.
“But you said-”
“I know what I said, but I want to be sure it’s safe before you come in. Once I’m sure that it is, I’ll come back and get you.”
Erin was visibly miffed. “I want to go, too! It’s not fair!”
Tom looked directly into her eyes. “Listen, Erin. We have no idea who is in my house right now. It could be a good thing or it could be trouble. I just don’t want to take any chances.”
“Okay. I’ll wait here. But come back as fast as you can, you promise?”
“I promise.”
Tom grabbed the flashlight and opened the car door. He shut it gently and made his way to the side door. It was dark as pitch inside, which was not a good sign. If Peg and the kids were in there, they certainly would have at least lit some candles or fired up the fireplace.
He paused before opening the door and glanced back at the mysterious car parked in the driveway. It was an older model Pontiac, green, and looked to be around a mid-nineties model. Who in god’s green earth would be visiting from Smithtown? he wondered. Peg’s family hailed from Columbus, so it almost had to be either a friend or a relative of his-someone with an awfully good reason to warrant the two-hour drive.
Tom crept over to the garage. He was not going to go into the house without some kind of weapon. He found a crowbar, recalled Bummer for a second, then carried it with him over to the side door. Opening the door as quietly as he could, he stepped inside.
From the laundry room, Tom could just make out a tiny orange glow coming from inside the kitchen. It looked like the end of a lit cigarette. He took a whiff and recognized the pungent smell of burning tobacco. At that same moment, the glow intensified as the person at the other end of the cigarette took a long drag.
“Come on in, Tom,” a voice suddenly rang from the darkness.
Tom flinched.
A flashlight flicked on and its beam shone directly into his eyes.
“And ya can put down that goddamn crowbar.”
The man’s voice was gruff sounding with a heavy southern Ohio drawl. It wasn’t the least bit familiar.
“Who are you?” Tom asked, feeling his heart rate go up a notch or two.
“Right now, that’s for me to know and you to find out. I want you to drop that piece of iron (pronounced “arn”) and walk toward me real slow-like,” the voice commanded.
“No way-this is my house and I’m not going to drop anything!”
Click.
Tom knew that was the sound of a gun cocking in the darkness.
“Ya sure about that, Tom? I’m bettin’ ya might wanna reconsider if ya don’t want a slug in yer haid”
“Okay, I’m dropping it!”
He let the crowbar fall to his feet; the dull clanging nearly deafening.
“There ya go. Now come toward me real slow. Or as God is my witness, I’ll waste yer sorry ass.”
Tom moved tentatively toward the man holding the flashlight. He couldn’t make out any of his features except that he was thin.
“That’s far enough, right there,” the man said. “Now, I’m gonna light a candle so we can see each another. I want you to just stand there nice and still for a second.”
Tom watched anxiously as the stranger grabbed a butane lighter off the kitchen table, flicked it and lit a candle. As amber light filled the kitchen, Tom gazed at the man’s face, trying to determine if he’d ever seen him before. He was heavily bearded, had a broken nose and wore his long, greasy hair in a ponytail. Tom was fairly certain he had never laid eyes on him before.
“There. Now have a seat and we can begin our little chit-chat,” the intruder said, gaping at him with bug eyes that looked like he was on crystal meth.
Tom sat down across the table from him and said, “What do you want with me?”
“Hold on and I’ll tell ya in a minute. First I want to get something to drink.”
The man got up, went over to the refrigerator and took out two warm Michelob Ultras. “Here,” he said, offering one to Tom.
“No thanks, too early for me,” Tom said, trying to appear under control while in fact he was terrified of this scary-looking redneck.
“Suit yerself,” the stranger said, screwing off the bottle cap. He kept the gun trained on Tom as he sucked down several huge gulps of beer.
“Ahhh, that’s better. Now down to the business. I don’t reckon you remember me, Tom, but I lived on the west side of Smithtown back in the eighties around the same time you shuffled off to New York. I’d seen you around in the bars from time to time but we never talked none because you were one of them city fellahs and I was just what you thought of as a hillbilly or whatever. Which I didn’t really give a big shit about because I figgered as long as you never messed with me or any of my buddies, I wasn’t gonna start no trouble with you.”
Tom thought back to those cobweb-shrouded days twenty years ago, trying to place this guy’s face in a bar. He looked just like the other typical hicks from the sticks: ultra-long dirty hair, full beard and that same sort of startled, demented look as the good ol’ boys in Deliverance But the guy didn’t ring any bells.
“Anyway, my name is Donnie-Donnie Shortridge. Now, does that name sound familiar to you?”
In fact, it did, but only faintly. Tom recalled the name Donnie Shortridge but couldn’t place exactly where he’d heard it before.
“Not really,” he said. “
Should it?”
“Aww, it sure as hell should! But like I said before, your type of folk didn’t give a shit about my type so you probably don’t want to remember. Don’t really make any big shit to me, anyway.”
Tom noticed that the longer this Donnie character talked, the more anger showed in his face. He was scowling at him now, looking like a time bomb ready to blow any second.
Tom needed to keep this in mind, whatever the guy wanted from him.
“My memory is pretty fried, Donnie. Too much booze over the years, I guess,” Tom quipped, attempting to add a little humor to the conversation.
Donnie’s expression didn’t change one iota.
“You’re a goddamn pussy, Tom. You don’t know what drunk is.”
Hmmm, Tom thought. He’s getting downright nasty now.
“Let me throw another name at ya, Tom, and I’m betting that you’re gonna remember it! How about the name Mindy Conkel?”
Mindy Conkel. Tom did recall her name. She was the girl he’d picked up at a bar one night. Really good looking but a little on the sleazy side. He’d taken her to her place and had a pretty good time. And that was about it-he’d never seen her again.
“Yeah, I do remember Mindy. Why do you ask?”
Donnie’s expression went from angry to furious. “Because, motherfucker, she was my wife and you fucked her!”
Tom’s heart skipped two beats and his head felt like a lead weight all of a sudden.
Shit! So that’s what this is all about…
He decided to play it cool. “I what? No way, Donnie! What makes you think I did that?”
Donnie drained the bottle, opened the other one with his yellow buckteeth and spit the cap out onto the table. “Because I just know, fucker! She told me!”
Tom thought back, trying to recall exactly what had happened the night he had picked up Mindy Conkle He’d been at the Short Stop Pub with Mike and Jeff that night. They had all been fairly smashed when all of a sudden these two chicks came over and sat down at their table. One was Mindy and the other was-hell he couldn’t remember what her name was. She was pretty ugly though, which made Mindy look all that much better.
One thing led to another and Mindy began flirting with him big time, rubbing his leg and pressing her tits against him every time she said something into his ear. Before long, she asked him if he wanted to go to her place and he had happily agreed.
They had gone to her downtown apartment, which was a little rough and seemed to fit her personality to a tee. They drank some more and eventually went to bed together. About all he could recall from that point on was that she was a good lay but he couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there the next morning. Mindy Conkel was not exactly the stuff that dreams were made of. But he’d had a very good time, and that was a fact.
Mindy had never said anything about being married or mentioned any boyfriend. And she definitely had not been wearing a wedding band-he would have been keeping an eye out for that no matter how drunk he’d been. In fact, he could recall her mentioning a roommate named Sarah So she had definitely not been married to Donnie Shortridge at the time “Donnie, I swear to you that Mindy was single when I went out with her. And I only went out with her one night. I think you have the facts wrong-”
Crash!
Donnie’s fist came down so hard on the table that the beer bottle jumped an inch or two into the air.
“Don’t tell me I ain’t got my story straight, you fuckin’ shit! Whether or not we was married at that exact time don’t make no difference-you banged her when she was my woman!”
“Donnie, listen. If you were dating Mindy at the time, she never told me, and that’s the truth! Had I known she had a boyfriend, I would never have uh, been with her. I swear!”
“You mean you would have never fucked her, that’s what you mean.”
“Donnie, I did not do that. We just played around a little.”
“Played around a little, my ass! That’s the same goddamn thing she tried to tell me at first. Then she couldn’t deny it anymore because she was knocked up!”
Tom suddenly felt lightheaded-like something buried deep in the muck and the mire for years had risen to the surface. This story was beginning to have a very unpleasant ring to it.
He had in fact gotten a call from Mindy Conkel one day. Not long after he’d moved to New York. And he had put that call so far out of his mind, it wasn’t until now that it came back to him.
Mindy Conkel had called to tell him that she was pregnant with his child.
He had blown her off, telling her that it was next to impossible that he had gotten her pregnant, given the circumstances. They had only slept together once, he had argued. The odds were totally against it.
Besides, he had thought, there was no way he was going to let this chick screw up his new life in the Big Apple!
Mindy continued to insist that the child was his and Tom had finally gotten so angry that he simply hung up on her. As it turned out, he’d never heard from her again.
So he had promptly forgotten all about it Until now.
Tom knew he had to find a way out of this situation. If he didn’t, there was little doubt that Donnie Shortridge was going to kill him.
“Are you trying to say that I got her pregnant?” he said.
“That’s right, I know ya did!”
“How could you know that, Donnie? What makes you think it wasn’t you?”
“Because, asshole, I took a paternity test. I started having my doubts about her when she got knocked up once I found out that she had fucked you, too. And even though the bitch swore up and down that you weren’t the father, I didn’t believe her.
“But the clincher was that the kid had dark brown hair and brown eyes. Mindy and I both have blue eyes and blond hair. This kid didn’t look one goddamn bit like me! So I got tested one day. And sure enough, the kid wasn’t mine.
“I got real mad and real drunk after I found out the results of that test. When Mindy got back from work that night, I beat the crap out of her. Broke her arm, a couple of ribs and smashed her face in pretty good. The cops came and I ended up getting a prison term. All because of you, motherfucker! You messed up my whole goddamn life!”
The man was so roaring angry now that the veins were popping out of his neck. Tom almost shot up and ran but the gun pointed at him made him reconsider.
“Donnie, I’m sorry. But that still doesn’t prove I was the father-it could just as easily have been someone else-”
“You stinkin’ sonofabitch-now you’re makin’ Mindy out for an even bigger whore than she is! No, she may be a bitch but I’m sure you were the only other bastard she’d screwed. So that makes you the daddy and the one that not only screwed up my family but got me sent to the southern Ohio pen for five fucking years!”
“Even if I were the father, which I really doubt, that wouldn’t make it my fault you got sent to prison, Donnie. I mean, it sounds like you could’ve used a few anger management sessions or something-”
Tom knew as soon as it came out that this had not been a wise thing to say.
Whack!
Donnie backhanded him with a beer bottle. It hurt like bloody hell.
“Fuck you, man! Don’t be telling me about needing anger management!”
Tom almost laughed out loud at the irony, but his jaw hurt too much.
It was at that moment that he spotted Erin in the living room-creeping toward the kitchen with the fire poker in her hand. Donnie’s back was toward her so he was unaware of her presence.
Ignoring Erin, Tom touched his aching jaw gingerly and said, “Look Donnie, I’m sorry about all of this-I truly am. But surely you could have just forgiven Mindy’s infidelity and raised the child as your own, right?”
Donnie guffawed heartily. “You gotta be shittin’ me! First of all there was no way I’d do that. I wasn’t gonna live with no whore and rear some other dude’s kid. Wouldn’t have made no difference any way, even if I had been foolish enough to do that. S
he had a restraining order on me when I got out of the joint and she’d given the little shit up for adoption. Seems she couldn’t afford to raise the kid on her own. Serves her right for pressing charges against me. Nope, screw it all. The only thing that’s gonna make me feel better is to take this out on your ass since it was your goddamn fault.”
“What do you mean by that?” Tom asked, trying not to stare at Erin who was now only a few feet from Donnie, the poker held high over her head.
“I’m gonna kill you and clean out yer beautiful home, that’s what I’m gonna do.”
A sickening thought suddenly came to mind. “Do you know where my family is right now, Donnie?”
The man smiled malevolently. “Wish I could say I do, but no-the place was empty when I got here. You expecting them anytime soon?”
Erin was directly behind him now. Tom watched in awe and relief as she came down hard with the poker and hit Donnie square in the head with the iron handle. His expression switched from rage to total shock just before he slumped over the table, out like a light.
“A direct hit!” Tom shouted, “Great going, kiddo!”
Erin dropped the poker and ran over to Tom. She stared at the unconscious man.
“Did I kill him?”
Tom arose, gave her a warm hug and walked over to Donnie to feel his pulse. “No, he’s still alive, unfortunately. But he’s going to be out of it for quite some time. How in the hell were you able to sneak into the house so quietly?”
Erin grinned. “I learned how to sneak around a long time ago, remember? Who is this man, anyway?”
“Someone from my hometown. He apparently has it out for me and came all the way up here to rob me blind and murder me.”
“What did he mean when he said it was your fault that he was sent to prison? I didn’t catch all of the story.”
Tom hesitated a moment before answering. He didn’t really want to tell Erin the details of that matter so he was careful to choose his words carefully. Like she and her own past, this wasn’t something he was particularly proud of about his.
“It’s sort of hard to explain, really. Basically, this guy is a lunatic and was accusing me of something I didn’t do. He got into some trouble and was sent to prison and decided to blame me since he couldn’t blame anybody else, I guess. Anyway, I am eternally grateful that you did what you just did. You have in fact just saved my life!”
See Tom Run Page 12