Behind The Pines

by Lauren Brown

“The court itself has officially cleared Richard Lyons free to return home. Monday morning at 9:10 AM, the jury of twelve found Mr. Lyons not guilty on the charges of abuse of his two children, Richard Lyons Jr. and Hannah Lyons nor the death of his wife, Elaine. Both children denied physical violence and all evidence pointed to the death of Elaine Lyons as suicide. Defense lawyer, John Livingston, neglected to speak at conference on the subject, but did write shortly after that he is thrilled his client is free to go home.”

  Johnson City, Tennessee? My father never spoke of accepting any cases there. I flip through the article titles:

  Woman Found Dead in Home in Luxurious Neighborhood

  Local Government Official Arrested on Charges of Assault and Death of Wife

  Best Defense Lawyer of the South Asked onto Lyons Case

  Attorney John Livingston states Lyons is an Innocent Man

  Gov. Official Lyons Dies in House Fire Nearly 15 Years Post Trial

  My eyes grow wider at the truth of these clippings. The Bear flashes into my mind in his house talking about his father and of my seventh birthday when I saw the horrible photos. I throw myself over the box and start scrambling through the case documents until I see it.

  The yellow folder.

  I take a short breath, open it, and then immediately close it. I take another breath. It’s the pictures. The woman, who I saw years ago, is sitting lifeless in a chair. It’s the crime scene, which means—Richard Lyons Junior is the Bear.

  I gasp. How did I not know? My father had kept this all a secret. He was always cloistered about cases concerning children and this must be the reason why.

  I sit, letting all my astounded weight rest against the heavy boxes. I read through the articles and my father’s notes. The gruesome side of the Bear begins to make sense as I read about the rumors of physical abuse, which in actuality weren’t rumors. He had practically told me this in his house. He knew that his father had murdered his mother but was too afraid to tell the authorities. He’s the one that set the house on fire fifteen years after the trial. I suddenly realize that my father had defended his father.

  Then there’s a picture of the Bear in 1991 just before my father retired. The Bear is standing with his arm around the two children I had seen on the wall in his house. He’s smiling under bold letters that read: Lyons Heir on Road to Financial Success and Happiness

  How could Richard Lyons not know that I am the attorney’s son? He must know. He claims to know everything. I put my head in my hands. I’m beyond confused. The Bear hated his father so wouldn’t he technically hate me too, from the beginning? I shudder at the thought of it all and then again at the revealing nature of it. I hold in my hand valuable information, information that brings to the table more than just facts, it brings a story.

  I close the garage door with one hand while balancing the stack of evidence in my other hand. I can’t escape the image of Richard Lyons and his sister’s face in the news article, being shielded by their attorneys as they made a dash towards a family member’s car outside the courthouse.

  I set the stack of papers in the passenger seat and sit for a few minutes staring at the orange light above my father’s storage unit. I think about the evidence I’ve collected out of my father’s storage shed, how my father would have used it in the court of law, how I plan to use it in my case. What would he think? What would my mother think? What would Hope think? I grip the wheel a little tighter at the thought of Hope and our unborn son. I turn the ignition and make my way back to Broad Street. I look in the rearview mirror one last time, not because I lack what I came for, but because I know this will be the last time I ever come back to this place.

  I drive slowly back to Park Pines, relishing my freedom.

  When I first got in Hue’s car, I was somewhat nervous about being pulled over for an expired license, and then being hauled off to jail for failure to provide proof of insurance or a valid license for that matter. Now, as I realize what little time I have left to myself out here in the real world, I’ve forgotten those worries, deciding to just drive to the music.

  I think back on the times I would drive Beau and I to get a late night burger in my old truck. We would sing at the top of our lungs while honking and scaring any pedestrians we passed. I think about driving my old truck with Hope in the seat next to me, venting about a professor who just didn’t understand the difference between fair and not fair. I had foolishly and carelessly taken these small blessings for granted in the moment, like the passing lines on the road. Before long, I would be back in my room at Park Pines remembering this drive like it was nothing but a dream.

  The sun is rising over the Smoky Mountains in the distance. I roll down the window and take in a deep breath. Merging onto the exit, I smell food and for the first time since I left last night, I realize I haven’t eaten. I had reminisced so much about the Bear and his abusive father that I had forgotten that I might be hungry. The clock says I have enough time to eat. I look around at what would used to be a bland array of choices, but now I see endless opportunity. I was never a big fast food eater since Hope often prepared my lunch and cooked me dinner, but now, it’s all I want. I choose McDonalds and as I wait my turn in line, I think about what I could possibly want off the menu, and it’s important since this may be my last chance at fast food again.

  My thoughts wander to my grandfather who had unknowingly talked too loudly to my father in the living room one evening when I was younger. He talked about how the most disturbing memories he had were of visiting some of his clients on their deathbeds, strapped to a gurney waiting for lethal injection, and, trying to make light of the situation, he asked them what their last chosen meal was.

  “Welcome to McDonald’s, would you like to try our number five combo?”

  I pause. “Um, yes. Yes, I would. I’d like two number five combos… and a large fry please.”

  “Would you like a large ice cream for ninety-nine cents?”

  I reach into my pocket and pull out a wrinkled ten dollar bill Hue gave me when I had told him I had no money. I smile at the weathered Ronald McDonald perched so happily on the speaker in front of me. “Yes. Yes, I would.”

  I eat in the parking lot then, when my stomach feels like it might burst, I decide it’s time, unfortunately, to return. I start the car and make my way to the road that will take me back to Park Pines.

  I push through the weeds and fallen limbs to where I originally found the car. I cut the engine then reach behind me for a spare Johnson City Tigers ball cap. My heart rate picks up again as I exit the car and see the wooden fence in the distance.

  I hoist myself over the fence and land with a hard thud, out of breath. I hear voices. Two women are approaching the back of the trail. I quickly dust myself off and begin walking.

  “Hi Ted!” one lady calls out to me. I give a brief wave over my shoulder then hurry out of their site. I say a quick prayer, and then sprint back to my window, which to my surprise, is already open. Hue must have opened it for me. My hands are shaking as I climb in. Hue is waiting for me in my room.

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d come back. Thought maybe you decided to run away.”

  I bend over, hands on my knees, breathing hard. I remove the cap and toss it in his lap.

  “But, I’m glad you made it back safely,” he says, putting the cap on his head. “I was keepin’ watch for you. I’ll give you some time to catch your breath. But I wanna hear all about it later.”

  He leaves my room as I flop onto my bed. But before I can get too comfortable, the nerves I’ve been fighting off the whole time come calling, and I rush to the toilet sending my last meal back up and into the world.

  Chapter 24

  I am awoken in the morning by shuffling sounds outside my door. Several mumbling voices slip under my door. I toss for a moment before standing to see what all the commotion is about.

  I crack open the door. I can see into Vernie’s room. Nurses Amy and Sarah are helping move her recliner, the recliner sh
e used to knit in, the recliner I stubbed my toe on stealing her pills. They must be moving her to the nursing home for severe Alzheimer’s patients. I gently close the door.

  Pills. Today is my last day meeting Rick. Thankfully, I collected Vernie’s last pill before they moved her. A small fraction of me is relieved they moved her. It’s as if the pills are running from me for once.

  I brush my teeth, put in my contacts, and adjust my glasses before making my way to the lobby for breakfast.

  “Did you hear, Ted?” LeRoy says through a mouthful of cinnamon roll.

  “About Vernie?” I take a seat beside him. Hue hasn’t come to eat yet.

  “Yeah. They’re moving her to the nursing home.” His wide brown eyes look at me with worry as if he might be next to go. “I… I heard you don’t last long once you go there,” he spews with a stutter.

  “Don’t worry, LeRoy. You can stay here as long as you wish,” I reassure him.

  I watch him shake his head in understanding then stare at his food.

  Hue rounds the corner, allowing me to move to a seat at his table. I pat LeRoy on the back before I leave.

  “Morning,” Hue says as he wheels to his usual seat in front of the TV. “Glad to see you at breakfast today.”

  “Nothing beats a store-bought cinnamon roll.”

  “You kiddin’? They’re the best,” he retorts with a grin. He turns on the TV to Good Morning America.

  “He said he’ll pick you up tomorrow.” He’s talking about Chip.

  I stare at the TV. There is a guest rock band I’ve never heard before playing on the show. This is usually the last part before the Johnson City local news takes over.

  I watch the band play for a while before deciding to go back to my room and prepare for my time with Chip tomorrow. I sit at my desk with a blank piece of paper in front of me for what feels like eternity, before a knock interrupts my thoughts. It’s time to meet Rick.

  I sit a little taller this time in his passenger seat though he doesn’t seem to notice. I glance at him a few times as we drive. His cheekbones jut out beneath his recessed, dark eyes. He’s crossing the line into his dying days.

  He parks in the grocery store lot and blows smoke out of the window. He sticks out his hand, waiting for me to dump the pills into his palm, but I ask him the question I’ve been dying to ask.

  “Rick, I have a question.”

  He doesn’t look at me. “What is it?”

  “Does the Bear know my father?”

  He whips his head in my direction. “Your father?”

  “Yeah, he claims to know everything about me, and I was just wondering if he ever told you about my father.”

  “Why does it matter?” he asks skeptically.

  “Doesn’t,” I lie. “It’s just, we have an hour, might as well talk about something.”

  Normally we don’t talk, but he shrugs and agrees.

  “Yeah. He said something about it once. Probably shouldn’t be tellin’ you any of it, but he put you in Park Pines to drive you mad.” He flicks his cigarette out the window. “You didn’t even need to go there. He’s got so many doctors that work for him at this point. But yeah, he found out about your daddy right after you two started workin’ together. Mentioned it once that your daddy actually kept his daddy from going to prison for murdering his mama.” He raises an eyebrow at me as if this is the first time I’m hearing it. The way the Bear looked at me that day on the golf course, when he told me he knew all there was to know about me, replays in my mind.

  “I didn’t know, Rick. My father never talked about cases with me,” I say.

  “Yeah, well he was gonna ignore it ‘til you broke the deal. That really pissed him off, so then he told me he was gonna ruin your life, make it a livin’ nightmare.”

  He expected a reaction out of me, but I just sat there. “What a small world,” I said as he lit another cigarette.

  “Yep. There ain’t a forest or a world too big for the Bear,” he says bold as brass, turning his face back to the window.

  If only he knew how wrong he was.

  Chip was awkward during our meeting today. He picked me up during lunch and, to my relief, neither Beatrice nor Sarah had daytime shifts. The nurse that approved our visitation was new and didn’t know my background.

  Chip was a short, round balding man that had a shake in his voice. He grew more nervous as I told my story in front of a black sheet and large video camera in his living room. His wife Martha was out shopping. He had informed me that I had exactly one hour to say what I needed to say and that this was a one-time favor for Hue because “they went way back.” I knew what favor he was talking about.

  As I progressed, he grew fidgety, occasionally opening his mouth in shock. Sometimes he would ask, “Really?” And I think he mumbled “no kidding” under his breath when I talked about Mayor Ringgold. He took photos of the letters that the Bear had written me so he could broadcast those as well, then with a light handshake followed by a silent car ride, he returned me to Park Pines. All he said when I got out of the car was, “Good luck.”

  I decide not to spend the rest of the afternoon in my room, so I make my way to the event happening in Park Three. LeRoy and Hue join me. LeRoy is in a pressed button-down with slicked back hair. Hue didn’t bother to change his American flag shirt. I’m still in my Ted Smith clothes. We see Sarah arrive for her night shift and wait for her to park her car. She joins us.

  “Do you normally work night shifts?” I ask Sarah as we progress across the parking lot.

  “It’s not particularly my favorite, but at least tonight is a fun one. A dance before tomorrow night helps. I’m working tomorrow night… with Beatrice,” she admits quietly. She knows there are a select few who enjoy Beatrice’s presence. “But then I’ll be back the following morning. Beatrice is working every other night for the next three weeks.” I frown at this. I was hoping Beatrice wouldn’t be doing a twelve-hour shift the night before the airing.

  “I love the Fall Dance,” LeRoy states.

  “You would think they wouldn’t have a dance called ‘fall’ for the elderly. That’s risky,” I joke. Hue cuts me a warning look when I say elderly.

  “I’ve never thought about it that way,” Sarah says.

  “I almost fell one time dancin’ at the Fall Dance but only because I saw beautiful Missy Mable swingin’ her hips on the floor. Dead now. But easy on the eyes at the time.”

  “She died after lookin’ at your swingin’ hips, LeRoy,” Hue jokes.

  “You just mad ‘cause you in that rusty ole thing and can’t lay it on the women anymo’,” LeRoy retorts with a loud laugh. Hue rolls his wheel into LeRoy’s foot.

  We walk into the lobby to find it decorated with paper cutouts of pumpkins and fall leaves. There’s a chocolate fountain with a small sign reiterating that it is for non-diabetic patients only. There’s a live jazz band on a popup stage playing for more people than I had expected. Visitors have come to enjoy a dance with their relatives and friends. I take a seat at a round table next to Sarah as LeRoy and Hue go straight for the chocolate.

  “They do this every year?” I ask over the music.

  “Well, this is my first year too, like you.” She waves to a few residents walking in. “But yes, every year. Cute isn’t it?”

  I look around at the residents. Even the grumpy and hearing impaired have decided to join in for a night of music. I’m glad I’ve decided to join. It loosens the tension within me. The airing is constantly on my mind. Hue returns with a red cup full of sparkling punch. I take a sip and almost choke. I raise an eyebrow at him as I suppress a cough.

  “What in the world is in this?” I whisper in his ear.

  “Bourbon.” He grins and takes a long drink out of his cup.

  I start to tell him he shouldn’t have that in Park Pines, but I refrain. He has a gun, a hidden car behind a fence. Hue will never be a prisoner here.

  I haven’t had alcohol in almost a year, causing it to take effect at a
rapid rate and, before I know it, I’m doing the jitterbug with Sarah on the dance floor. I push Hue out to the floor to dance with the most unattractive woman at Park Pines, despite his protesting, outstretched legs, and repetitive cursing. The drink courses through my veins, and for a time, my worries about the interview leave me and they leave quickly; so quickly that I’m light as a feather and with one large spin I trip over Hue’s wheelchair and fall on my back. The band stops playing and everyone gasps. The only thing I hear over the sound of my laugh is Hue and LeRoy, who are howling in laughter together.

  Chapter 25

  I’m standing with my toes in the sand. Behind my closed eyes, there’s a glorious paradise with a subtle breeze calling my name. Here, in this moment, there’s not a worry to be had.

  I snuck out to the sparse parking lot while the nurses were on their ten-minute break. According to the bulletin board inside the lobby, tomorrow will mark the first day of fall, and I can’t help but join her in her arrival. I’m not even trying to escape anymore. I know the pines will always block my view of the street and that the gated entrance will always be locked from the inside. Tonight, I’m satisfied with the parking lot.

  The air is thick outside. It even has a taste of…salt? I chuckle under my breath at the irony.

  But I kind of like it. It takes me back to the golden Florida beach Hope and I visited.

  Mmmmm.

  I drift away to paradise to escape the storm I can feel brewing behind me. I’m grasping the sand with my hands, pushing my feet to the coldest parts underneath. I imagine Hope beside me.

  I look up to see the gray waves rolling in, crashing and foaming against the glistening rocks. They form a rhythm I seem to lose myself in.

  The storm continues to brew above. I lift my head to the sky and look at the stars peeping through the clustering silver clouds. I close my eyes and let my mind wander back to my imaginary beach.

  I watch the waves crash over and over again along the shore. I’ve dreamt of this beach many times since I’ve been here, but never have I seen the waves so furious. I’m just about to take a swim when I hear a voice behind me.