Tiller

by Shey Stahl

  My phone rings in my pocket. Pushing my finger to my lips, I stare at River who’s cackling in the tub like she’s had too much sugar. She has. Did I mention I let her have ice cream for dinner and it’s like eleven at night and she’s still awake? Minor details here. “Stay quiet or she’ll know we have no idea what we’re doing.”

  “We?” Shade points to himself, his hair and chest soaked in water and lube. He looks like he’s preparing for a photoshoot or a porno. “I don’t want any part of this.”

  “Don’t make a sound!” I tell River and answer the phone. “Hey.”

  “How are things?” she asks, sighing into the phone. “She’s still alive, right?”

  It’s been a disaster but no way I’m telling Amberly that. “It’s good.”

  Lies. All fucking lies.

  “It’s awful!” Shade shouts, trying to get a still slippery River to sit down. I don’t like her standing up in the tub. Not only am I afraid she’s going to fall, but she’s naked and it’s really weird. I keep thinking it’s not appropriate to have her in there with no clothes, but then again, that’s how it’s supposed to be, right? I’m so confused on the rules of children.

  “I gotta go,” I tell Amberly, tossing the phone aside when Shade ends up in the tub with her. He apparently tried to add hot water because it was getting cold, slipped on the edge because of the lube, and went swimming. “Get out of there you fool.”

  River thinks it’s cool as shit she has a swim partner and guess what she does next?

  No, really, just guess. I’ll wait. Because I don’t think you’re going to get it.

  .

  .

  .

  Okay, I’ll tell you now. She sat on his face.

  Imagine the horror, right?

  I help him out of the tub and he levels me a shocked look of complete and utter disgust. “You know, Scarlet wants a baby, but no way I’m having one now.”

  I have to laugh. Admit it, you are too. “I have no idea how women do this.”

  We, as in me, Shade, and Scarlet, get River dressed in her pajamas and in bed where we turn on her favorite movie. Do you see the four of us in the king-size bed surrounded by probably every stuffed animal River owns? We look pretty fucking cozy, don’t we?

  Ha. Funny. I look uncomfortable. You’re probably wondering how Scarlet returned to the picture, huh? Shade and I convinced her it was part of her “PR” duties to take care of the kid and if she doesn’t, Amberly could potentially sue her. She’s fucking gullible as hell.

  Shade looks over at River when she’s sound asleep against Scarlet’s non-existent tits. “Those are mine,” he remarks, sitting up, not happy he’s sharing her with a child. And then he stares at River, her pink cheeks and damp shiny skin. “She’s actually pretty cute.”

  I shoot him a look of disbelief. “Look at her father. Of course she’s cute.”

  There’s a smug look of satisfaction on his face I don’t appreciate. “I knew you were her dad.”

  Scarlet’s eyes brighten and she kisses the top of River’s head. “I’m going to be the best aunt ever.”

  For fuck’s sake, when did we all become so domesticated?

  You know how the first night went. The next morning, I take River downstairs, cover up the naked guy who sleeps on the table we never eat at, and hand her a bowl of Captain Crunch. That’s when Camden shows up, dressed in board shorts, no shirt, and shades. He’s looking more and more like Shade these days. Probably because he’s trying to win Scarlet’s affection.

  “What are you doing here? Isn’t it a school day?”

  He stares at me as he’s pouring himself a bowl of cereal. “It’s summer.”

  Right. I knew that. Or did I? What day of the week is it?

  “Whose kid is that?”

  “I don’t know. She showed up at our door one day and only comes over to eat our food. Sound familiar?”

  He shrugs. Obviously I’m referring to him and wink at River as he lifts his sunglasses.

  “Wanna hear a joke?”

  She stops chewing her cereal and nods. “Yes.”

  “Where do bees get milk?”

  “A cow?”

  “Boobees,” Camden says, barely able to keep Captain Crunch from flying out of his mouth.

  I shake my head, trying to suppress my own laughter.

  Roan comes downstairs next, looks at the kid, then me and shakes his head. Doesn’t even ask who she is. Doubt he cares. Guess who follows him downstairs?

  Ophelia Hadley. Do you remember her? Bet ya do. I’ll refresh. Me. Her. Brother rivalry?

  Glad you’re up to speed. Now, take a look at the death glare she gives me. She still hates me. And while we’re at it, it’s unwarranted if you ask me. It’s not like I forced her to have sex with me.

  River jumps down off the stool and takes off upstairs. I’m assuming to get her blanket. She’s attached to it. Anyway, look back at what O’s wearing. Same clothes from last night.

  I wink and reach for my coffee on the counter only to have Roan take it and dump it down the drain. Fuck face. “You finally close the deal?”

  Ophelia glares at me. “You’re such as ass.”

  “Yeah, well,” I reach for an orange on the counter and toss it at Roan’s head, “I should have fucked you in the ass.”

  Take a guess as to what happens next? A wild fucking guess.

  Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Incredibly lame. Roan picks the orange off the floor. It missed his head. Then smiles at me and walks off with his arm around O and back upstairs.

  Scarlet appears out of nowhere and shoves her phone in my face, showing me a weather warning on her phone. “It’s supposed to be like a hundred today. We shouldn’t go outside with River because of the air quality.”

  “We? As me and you? When did we become a couple?”

  “Since you brought her adorable butt into my life. Don’t fuck this up. I love her.” She looks proud, doesn’t she. She’s also drinking an iced coffee and I’m thirsty. So I take it from her because Roan dumped mine out.

  Big mistake. It tastes like chocolate cake and I hate chocolate. “What is this shit, Northwest?”

  “Coffee.” She rips it from my hands. “And mine.”

  There I sit, no coffee, and realize River never came back downstairs. Are you panicked?

  Uh, you should be. Last time she was alone she got into lube.

  Camden’s on the couch, stuck in Mario land. I knock the side of his head with my hand. “Where’d the girl go?”

  “I don’t know.” He doesn’t look up from his video game. “She’s not mine.”

  He has a valid point. Upstairs I go.

  “River? Where ya at?”

  I find her in the bathroom, lights off, standing in the doorway. “I here!” she announces, all smiles and bubbly. “Beauty and the Beast?”

  Ten minutes later and a very angry Camden for being forced to watch Beauty and the Beast, River and I sit on the couch with her wearing my helmet. For one, she loves it and two, I’m slightly concerned about the air quality in the house due to the broken window not being fixed, I’m protecting her lungs. Not all that great because there’s no visor on dirt bike helmets. But it’s the thought that counts.

  Did River’s events upstairs go unnoticed? Nope. I’ll get to that soon.

  It starts with the smell. That ungodly smell of shit. And, more importantly, it’s coming from River. I try to ignore it, because hey, maybe the kid farted and I don’t want to embarrass her, so I let it go. Until I can’t anymore. It’s awful.

  I pause the movie. “River, did you fart?”

  “No!” And yes, she yells her answer in my face.

  Again, I try to ignore it, but it’s impossible.

  “Seriously, River, what’s that smell?”

  That’s when she jumps up from the couch and takes off running upstairs. Hauling myself off the couch, I realize it’s time to investigate why she disappeared earlier.

  Upstairs, River stands in the bathr
oom at the top of the stairs, hanging her head in shame. Do you see it? Look over River’s shoulder. Believe me, it’s worse than I imagined.

  She pooped all right, but I don’t know whether she stood up in the process or couldn’t wipe right. Either way, it looks as if someone painted the floor with shit.

  Scarlet walks by, on the phone and ignoring me. I grab her by the elbow and pull her back. “I need you.”

  She blocks the phone with her hand. “I’m on the phone with Rod. Can this wait?”

  “No.” I take the phone, press End and toss it down the stairs.

  Scowling, she huffs out a breath and ties her mess of curls up in a bun. It looks something similar to a Top Ramen beehive. “Was that necessary?”

  “Very.” I turn her to face the bathroom and whisper over her shoulder. “What do we do?”

  Notice how I’m using her as a shield? It’s by design.

  Scarlet pushes back against me. “No. Way. I’m not dealing with that. You have maids for that.” And then she wiggles away from me and runs into Shade’s room at the end of the hall. Ordinarily, I’d follow her and demand she get me out of this mess. Or I’d find that damn maid. But River’s now crying, and I can’t bear to see her in tears.

  I look from her to the floor and the horrific images before me, and then back down at River. “Uh. . . I. . . you.” I pause, unable to formulate a plan in my head. “You should take a bath. Again.”

  Helping her out of her clothes, that’s when I notice the rest of her looks worse than the bathroom floor. It looks like shit exploded in her pants and then dried.

  “Wow. . . okay.” I stand up and take her hand, leading her out of the bathroom. I leave the clothes and shit-covered walls behind the closed door. “This is going to take some time, so let’s use a different bathroom. There’s like twelve in here somewhere.”

  I’m not even joking. I had to fill the tub and drain it twice, and then scrub her for an hour.

  “Amberly is never going to leave me alone with you again,” I tell her, sometime after washing her hair for the third time. Our eyes meet. “How did you get it in your hair?”

  She shrugs and splashes me with water. Probably pee water mixed with kid shit.

  Just as I’m getting her out of the tub, Amberly choses then to “check in”, which is code for, she’s still alive, right?

  Amberly: How’s it going?

  I look to River who’s beside me, trying her hardest to fold a towel. “Amberly wants to know how it’s going. How should I answer?”

  River stares at me, her brow scrunched in concentration that she can’t make a perfect square with the towel on the floor. In case you’re wondering, we’re still in the bathroom. Sitting on the floor.

  “Good?” she asks, like that’s the grand-prize answer.

  I raise an eyebrow and then nod to the door, the direction of the bathroom we might have to remodel later. “Are you confident in your answer?”

  Check out her face. She doesn’t know what confident means but despite this, she nods and sits on my lap, thankfully now with clean not smelling-like-shit clothes on.

  Twisting to the side, I text Amberly back.

  Me: I thought you said she’s housebroken. . . .

  Amberly: Housebroken? She’s not a dog. And yes, she’s potty trained. . .

  Me: Lies.

  Amberly: What?

  Me: Nothing.

  Amberly: Seriously, Tiller. What are you talking about? She’s potty trained.

  I don’t feel the need to explain our morning. I’d like to forget it so I settle on—

  Me: When will you be back?

  Amberly: Late tonight hopefully.

  Me: I expect pussy for payment.

  Amberly: You’re awful.

  Me: I’m horny. There’s a BIG difference. And by big, I mean me.

  Amberly: Yeah, I picked up on that.

  Me: Stop texting me and move.

  Amberly: Keep the kid alive.

  Me: uh huh.

  Amberly: Send me a picture just so I know she’s safe.

  Me: Only if you send me a picture of your tits.

  She doesn’t reply, and you know, my curiosity gets the better of me, so I snap a picture of River and me. Don’t we look cute? It’s our first selfie together. You tell anyone and I’ll kill you.

  I send the picture.

  Me: She’s alive.

  And then I stare at the picture for a moment and realize just how much this kid looks like me. It’s crazy. Same eyes, same face structure, freckles.

  River gets up and leaves the bathroom. I follow because fuck, you can’t leave her unattended. It’s then the text comes through from Amberly with a photo.

  Amberly: Wait up for me.

  A picture comes through next of her bare tits.

  Stop looking. She’s mine.

  Here’s where shit starts to get interesting. And by interesting, I mean I’m not sure I’m cut out for babysitting. Or parenting. That first night went smoothly and she stayed in her bed in the guest room. Second night? Fuck no. Not so lucky.

  It’s around one in the morning when I hear my door open, the light turns on and then there’s a patter of tiny feet running toward my bed.

  Fuck me.

  You’re probably thinking, why wasn’t she in your room in the first place? Well, we have twelve bedrooms in this house. If I have to take care of this kid all day long, I deserve some peace at night.

  River apparently doesn’t see it that way. She gets right beside my ear and yells, “Up!” while holding her blanket in one hand and tossing stuffed animals at my head.

  You know me. I don’t sleep anyway, but now she wants in my bed. No fuckin’ way. I grab my pillow and smash it over my head. “No. Go away.”

  “Up!” she screams again, like it’s going to convince me to allow her to sleep with me. I only remember bits and pieces of my childhood, probably because of the number of concussions I’ve had—and the drug use—but I do remember sleeping in Ricky’s bed with him and my brothers after my dad died. While I understand the need for comfort in a strange house, I should point out the reason why I don’t want her in my bed.

  I’m. Naked. I sleep that way all the time. “No. That’s not happening,” I tell her, scooting away from the edge and discretely trying to make sure my junk is covered. “Go back to bed.”

  “I not sleep. Scared,” she whispers, like she’s afraid to wake someone up. “I sleep with you.” It’s like she’s forgetting she just yelled in my ear.

  Let me ask you, what would you do here? I’m naked. I can’t let her in my bed. That’d be worse that’d letting her unintentionally getting into lube and dousing herself from head to toe in it. But maybe not as bad as the kid shit incident. It’s a toss-up.

  Reaching for my cell phone, I call Scarlet. Shade’s bedroom is on the other side of the house, and there’s no way they can hear me yell for them.

  She doesn’t answer. So I keep calling until she does.

  “Why are you calling me at one in the morning? Did you misplace the kid?”

  “No,” I scoff, annoyed she would think such a thing. “She’s staring at me. Come in my room.”

  “No. Way.” The last time Scarlet came in my room, she walked in on me fucking a chick in the ass while doing lines off her back. She swore she’d never come in my room again. Justifiably I guess.

  “Get your ass in here,” I snap. “It’s important.”

  She groans into the phone. “Fine.”

  It’s five long minutes of River trying to get in my bed and me telling her no before Scarlet appears at my door, dressed in one of Shade’s jersey’s and her hair all over the place. She pushes her hand up her forehead to move the thick locks of curly hair from her face to see me. “What?”

  She’s not wearing a bra either, and I have to avert my eyes from her chest because though Scarlet has the smallest tits I’ve ever seen, they’re still tits and my eyes automatically gravitate toward her nipples poking through the thin material
of the FOX jersey she’s wearing. “Get her out of here.” For obvious reasons, I take my pillow and smash it into my crotch.

  “Why? She wants you.” Scarlet can barely keep her eyes open. “You called me in here for this?”

  “I’m naked,” I mouth, looking around a now crying River at the edge of my bed.

  “Oh my God, you’re such an asshole.” She picks up River from the floor, distracts her, and tosses me my shorts on the floor.

  I’ve never gotten dressed so fast in my life.

  Once I have the shorts on, Scarlet sets River on my bed. “Maybe you should take her downstairs.”

  I hesitate, trying to remove stuffed animals from the bed only to have River toss them back at me. “Why?”

  “Your bed is tainted.”

  I wave her off. “Go away.”

  Scarlet stumbles out of the room, turns off the light and leaves me with River in my bed. And that’s when I start obsessing over what Scarlet said. My bed’s tainted. I wouldn’t say tainted.

  Ignore her. My bed’s fine. Are you paying attention? Look down at the bed, curled up in my arms and surrounded by stuffed animals.

  I’m jealous of the peaceful way she sleeps. I can’t ever remember it being like that for me. It takes me hours to fall asleep and that’s if I get to sleep. My stare drifts to my nightstand and what’s inside of it. What I should destroy. I haven’t touched drugs since she’s been here. My chest hurts, pounds steadily knowing it’s not an answer, but nonetheless, it’s a remedy I want at the moment when sleep doesn’t come.

  One I won’t touch while she’s here.

  I take a deep breath and push the feelings of guilt I don’t understand aside, wishing I could wrap my mind around everything that’s happened in the last few days, or what I’m doing in this kid’s life. Am I enough?

  Mom: Brunch will be at 10:00 a.m. We will discuss everything with our lawyer then.

  Ugh. That’s your response too, admit it.

  I know one thing, Tiller is going to kill me.

  There I am, in the driveway of the Sawyer mansion, parked next to a wrecked bright yellow Maserati GranTurismo and on the other side of that, parked haphazardly on the lawn and boulders, like someone jumped it, a Honda CX650 Scrambler. I don’t even want to know why that’s there, and why the side of the Maserati has what looks to be tire tread on the hood that matches the Scrambler.