“You know. Copperbacks.” He sounded almost sick, saying it. I knew that it wasn’t the words that made him sound that way, but the thought of them.
I couldn’t help but think about how I had just called Job that before leaving. It was so wrong of me to use such a filthy word when he was upset and scared. I had to keep my thoughts from Job for the rest of the night, or I would fall apart. I cleared my throat before talking again.
“You mean the Sayner? But there aren’t any around. The only one I’ve ever seen is the one you own, and you said he ran off. That was a week ago. I’m sure he’s long gone by now.” The knot in my stomach came back, but I ignored it, sticking to the lie and staying calm.
“I doubt he made it very far. I’m sure we’ll find his body in the woods somewhere. I hope he’s dead. My dad hasn’t let me forget that I was responsible for him. After he was gone, I had to pick up his slack at the farm. I probably would have had to anyways, even if I still had him.” Derrick seemed distant and angry. He had placed his elbows on the table, clasping his hands, breaking his over-the-top air of esteem.
“I don’t understand. Was he a bad worker? I saw him that day, and he seemed to do anything you said.” I was treading in rough waters, and it was going to be hard to get back to shore.
“No. He was a hard worker, when I could keep him in line. He would have been useless to us for at least a few weeks, though, since there was no way he was going to be in any shape to work.”
I already had an inkling that Derrick knew about the beating, but I continued feigning ignorance. I certainly wasn’t about to give away that I was hiding Job at my house.
“What happened to him? Did he get hurt? I thought they could do that shift thing?”
He pulled back from his thoughts, and looked directly at me. I was able to stare back, since my questions were honest.
“He was out of line, and I took care of it. It’s kind of hard to shift when you have two inches of copper buried in your gut.” He was angry, and seemed disgusted to even talk about it. “He had no right to scare you like he did.” He brought his anger down a notch, and even seemed slightly remorseful. “The guys and I roughed him up outside the bar but…things got a bit out of control. I thought we might have killed him, and threw him in the back of the truck before anyone saw. We went in the bar for a couple of cold ones, but by the time we came back out, he was gone. I don’t know if someone took him, or if he left on his own. When I find him – I’m going to finish the job.”
My stomach turned at what I was hearing. I had to have been mistaken. I knew my voice was shaky, but I had to ask.
“So you and Chase took care of it?” I sat and waited for his answer, scared to know.
“Naw. Your brother wasn’t even with us. He beat us there by a couple of hours. He took off just after we got there. I’m sure he would have liked to join in, if he could.” His laugh was hideous.
I sat across from the person that had put Job in my basement. He hadn’t just roughed him up, but had almost killed him. He was the reason for the screams and pain Job was suffering through, and the reason we were going to have to take his leg in the morning. It was all because Job had scared me. It was my fault. My stomach couldn’t handle anymore.
I sat as long as I could, forcing myself not to be sick. Getting up and running off to the bathroom would make a scene. I couldn’t say any more to him, so I began to drink the wine in my glass, choking down the bitter alcohol. Derrick had already moved on to another topic. I filled my mouth with another slice of bread, waiting for our food to arrive. The waiter must have read my mind, because it showed up just in the nick of time.
The smell of the dead pink fish was too much, and I couldn’t wait any longer. I excused myself and took off in a run to the women’s room, not even waiting till the stall door shut behind me. The wine and bread came up first, followed by the bile still in my stomach from earlier. As soon as I thought I had finished, another wave hit me, and I dry heaved in the bowl until my eyes felt like they were going to pop out from all the pressure.
I sat on the floor thinking of how demanding Job had been about the date. He knew I was going out with the man who had destroyed his life because of me. He knew everything, yet didn’t say so. The one time he had dropped a hint in an insistent manner, I couldn’t read between the lines to see what he was saying. Instead, I attacked him, and did everything I could to hurt him. I wanted to stay on the floor. Facing Derrick again would only bring another bout of dry heaves. I wasn’t sure what excuse I could come up with to have him take me home.
I managed to pick myself up and out of the stall, to look at myself in the mirror. I hadn’t started crying yet, but the force of my stomach had brought tears, smearing my makeup across my face. I wiped up as much as I could, but my eyes remained bloodshot from the upheaval. The feeling in the pit of my stomach wouldn’t leave. I walked out of the restroom slowly, hoping he had already left, but he was standing there talking to the waiter, motioning that I was sick. He caught a glimpse of me and hurried over to hold my arm. I hadn’t noticed that I was light-headed and about to fall over till he was almost completely supporting my weight. I didn’t want his grimy hand on me, and yearned to remove it, but I was too weak to even try.
Walking me back over to the table, he expressed his concern over me, making the assumption that I was not over the flu and should go home to get some rest. I think I had nodded my head, but everything was a blur. With food boxed and paid for, he told me to sit down while he brought the truck around to the front. Matt offered me a glass of water in his absence, but my hands were shaking too bad to even hold it still enough to get it to my mouth.
I could barely recall the ride home, other than the nauseating smell of the truck. I was filled with such guilt that it blocked any concentration I had on the conversation Derrick was attempting to have. I heard bits and pieces along the way. Most of it was about how much he had wasted on a good meal. Even in my sickness, he was only concerned with himself. It was adding to the churning of my stomach, and I had to beg him to pull over, even though I had nothing left in me. The thought ran through my mind of not telling him and heaving on the floor, to cover up the other smells of the truck. I had actually planned to do it the next time, but the truck stopped before the next time came.
I gathered myself enough to see the door to the house, with its peeling paint, and knew I was back home. He hadn’t tried to whisk me off to some unknown place, thinking he could take care of me, and later, take care of business.
I still wasn’t stable enough to walk down the path by myself, and held onto him only because no one else was around to help. He got me slowly to the front door and rummaged in my purse for the keys. A woman’s purse is a personal place, but I was in no condition to argue with him about invasion of privacy at the moment. I barely had enough voice to tell him I could handle it myself, so I could try and leave him standing on the porch before he could say goodnight, but I managed to croak out the words. As much effort as I put into it, however, he ignored my request and pulled me through the front door to the living room. The fear of him being in my house caused my stomach to lurch again, adding to its already volatile state.
I could feel my feet taking small steps toward the hallway, as Derrick tried to lead me to my room against my will. It dawned on me that my room was still naked of any linen, since the bulk of it now belonged to Job. It was a giveaway that something was amiss in the house, and could raise questions. Even if I explained that I had just washed them, it would lead Derrick to the basement. I had to think fast, past the cloud surrounding my brain.
“The couch is fine. It’s closer to the bathroom, anyways.” It was another lie, since my bedroom was next to the bathroom, but with the doors closed, it would be hard to tell which door was which room. He circled back around and deposited me on the sofa, pulling the blanket down and wrapping it around me.
I could feel his slimy hands pulling off my shoes and trying to rub my bare leg to comfort me. I jus
t wanted him to go, but the clues that I dropped were not being picked up, and he continued to sit by my side, making sure I was ok. I was going to have to find a way to remove him from my home.
“I’m going to call–” There was a muffled banging from the vicinity of the kitchen that should have not been there, cutting him off.
It continued, and I knew the kitchen was not the source of the sound, but the basement. A sudden pang of alarm ran through my body, adding to the sickness. It was replaced by another queasy thought of Job attempting to make it up the stairs, dragging his useless leg behind him, my horrendous words taken to heart. I must have looked surprised, since Derrick was instantly on the alert, sitting upright and listening to the noise, knowing that it should not be there. I made an attempt to sit up, trying to pull his attention away from the sound, but was instead pushed down quite hard with one hand as he stood up to investigate.
“You stay here. I’ll see what it is.” He was quick to make it into the kitchen, and I couldn’t see past the corner near the basement door. I held my breath, waiting for the door to open and expose what I had been hiding for the last week. There would be no way to save him this time.
11.
I could hear the door opening, and I still couldn’t breathe. My heart pounded so hard, it was about to beat out of my chest and onto the floor where my dinner would have been, if my stomach had not emptied its contents at the restaurant. There was a commotion from the kitchen, and I was able to exhale when I saw Derrick’s shadow followed by another walking behind him. He popped into view, carrying a large box, with Chase in tow, holding a smaller one.
“Yeah, I just stopped over to pick up some of the stuff I left here,” Chase was telling Derrick as they came out to the living room. “I had been looking for it since I moved, and figured it had to be in the basement.”
“Well, I’m glad it was you and not someone else. I would have had to kick them into tomorrow. You’re lucky I recognized you before I did.” Derrick was happy to show off again in front of me. I had heard enough of his fighting stories for one night. Just thinking about it again was making my stomach tighten. I had no choice but to moan and hold it with my hands, trying to get the cramps to stop. I wished I was faking it at that point.
“Emily? Are you ok? You don’t look so good.” Chase had taken notice of my condition.
“I think that flu is making a second round. Do you think you can stay with her tonight? I was going to stay, but I don’t want to take the risk of catching it. I still have a place to run in the morning.”
If I had any composure left, I would have told him what I thought of him, but I couldn’t let go of my stomach as the cramps got worse. I wrapped my arms around my midsection and curled up as much as possible. I just wanted him – both of them – to leave.
Somewhere along the line, Derrick said he was going to call me to see how I was, and I could feel another spasm in my stomach from the thought of having to see or talk to him again. I half expected him to try to kiss me, but then remembered he cared too much about himself to want to risk catching whatever was making me violently ill. His arrogance was a blessing for once during the night. I heard the door shut behind him and Chase moving towards me. I could barely see him from the corner of my eye. It was too hard to concentrate on anything other than the pain in my abdomen.
“Wow, you have come a long way with lying,” Chase said. “I don’t think I could have faked sick as well as you just did. You gotta tell me how you did that. I have to use it someday to get out of work.”
“I’m not making it up. I really threw up and I’m really sick.” I managed to get myself in a seated position, even though my stomach wasn’t letting up. There was a tingle in the back of my throat and I was waiting for another bout to hit me. “What are you doing here, anyways? I thought you had forgotten all about us.”
“I didn’t forget about you. I…I just had some other things come up, and I thought you could handle this on your own. It looked like Sally did a good job with him.” He was avoiding looking at me.
“Really? What could have come up that was more important than helping out? You disappeared off the face of the planet for the last week. Did you even know that we have the wonderful task of amputating his leg tomorrow? I doubt you want to be around for that.” My stomach still hurt, but I was too upset to care.
“That really sucks. Does he know?” He continued to stand there, hovering over me. He seemed surprised by the news.
“I think so. I never told him, but I’m sure he’s figured it out by now.” I had lowered my voice just in case Job could overhear our conversation from the basement. Chase sat down next to me on the couch. I could tell he knew it was tearing me up inside just thinking about it.
“I’m sorry. I came over to tell you that I found out who attacked him.” His apology sounded heartfelt.
“I already know it was Derrick. He just told me. Why didn’t you say anything sooner?
“I was scared. I wasn’t sure how I could come over every day and see Job, but go back to work and not accidently say anything.”
I could imagine how hard it would be, staying with Job and then listening to Derrick brag about how he put Job in his place all day. The thought made my stomach churn yet again. At this rate, it was never going to settle down. I wanted to jump off the couch and run down to see him, tell Job I was sorry and hope that he would accept my apology.
“Did he say anything to you?” I said at last. “When you were down there?” I had to know what I going to walk into. When I had left him, he was furious at me. I wanted to make sure it was going to be safe to walk down, and not have a dish chucked at my head.
“No, he didn’t talk to me. He wouldn’t even look at me. I think he was upset about…you know. You know, if you want me to, I can come over tomorrow and, well, help out so you don’t have to. It’s the least I can do.”
It was a sweet gesture, but I had already made up my mind that I wanted to be there to hold his hand through this, if he would let me. He had trusted me, and I had crushed him. It was the least I could do to make up for the vile things I had said earlier. I had to see this through to the end.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay. Sally has everything under control. I can call you if we need help.”
“Well, do you want me to stay? I can take care of him tonight, if you want. You can get some sleep. You look like crap.”
“Appreciate that. No. I think I’ll be fine on my own. I have to do something, anyways, before tomorrow.” I didn’t want to tell him it was an apology of my own.
“Okay. Well, call if you need me.” He got up off the couch, leaving the boxes on the floor. I assumed he had used them for cover so Derrick wouldn’t suspect anything. It had been smart thinking on his part. I was actually surprised he had thought of it.
I followed Chase to the back door and closed it behind him. Leaning my back up against it, I looked at the door to the basement. It didn’t feel as inviting as I wanted it to be. The dread of what to expect lay behind the door, and I closed my eyes hard, hoping that, when I opened them, the door would be gone, and a bare wall had taken its place. I opened them back up to see the wood frame still intact. I could avoid all of this if I still wanted to and just go to sleep, but it was never going to be the same. I had to at least try to make an effort.
I pulled the door open and proceeded down the stairs. I could feel the acid in my stomach building again. I forced it back down the best I could. Downstairs, nothing had changed. The bed was still in place and the sheet pulled up around him to his waist. The busted leg that would become a stump in less than twenty-four hours still stuck out, only covered by the towel and the used ice packs, which had melted hours before. He had his head down, but he wasn’t sleeping. He had moved the pillow to his lap and was picking strings out of the fringe, making a pile of them beside him. If he had noticed I was in the room, he was hiding it very well.
The dinner still hadn’t been touched and sat on the chair next to h
im. I was hesitant to move any closer, wondering if he would snap at any second and catch me off guard. The plate could be moved later. I needed to say what I came down here for.
“Job?”
He didn’t even move at the sound of his name.
I’m sor–” I couldn’t even get the rest of the words out before I had begun to cry. Between the spasms I could feel in my stomach, and the overwhelming guilt and disgust in myself for how I had acted, I couldn’t even stand anymore. I collapsed on the ground, letting everything out. I had no idea if he even heard me or cared. I couldn’t look up at him. If he could really feel emotions, then he would know how I felt right now. I continued talking, but it was almost impossible, since every word that came out was choked by another sob.
“I didn’t – mean – what I said. I don’t – want you – to – to leave. I want you – to – stay – with me. I’m – scared and I – care about – you. I don’t want – to see you go through – this. I’m sorry.” I sat and waited.
Other than the sounds I was making, whimpering on the floor, there was silence. I wasn’t surprised. If I had been in his position, I would be just as livid, if not more. Even though he had been upset earlier in the day, I was sure he had moved past it and gone back to being angry.
I picked myself up off the ground, wiping away the tears that had streaked down my face and left blots on my blouse. He still had his head bent down, only showing his messy, sandy blond hair, his face hidden by shadows. He had stopped picking at the strings, and had his hands laying across the pillow in a non-menacing way. He had been listening to everything I said, but none of it was getting through. I had gone too far, and I was never going to get him back.
I saw the twinkle of the bracelet still around my wrist, bringing back the sick thoughts of Derrick. The trinket felt as though a piece of him was still stuck to me, burning into my flesh. It had been such an innocent gift, but it came with a price. My anger at myself focused on the trinket. I had to remove it as quickly as possible. I wasn’t willing to mess with the clasp, and started to tear at it, feeling the small diamond cuts along the links dig into my wrist. I didn’t care about the pain. It was a fraction of what Job had been through because of me. I could feel it begin to draw blood, but I kept pulling at it, hoping it would rip the rest of my skin off before it gave way.
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