by Mayer, Dale
A hiccup of a laugh sounded. "Since Todd’s death, I’ve thought of nothing else. Hated myself for letting him go. For not trying harder be a family. Wondering what I could have done differently?" Another laugh escaped, the broken laugh of a woman on the edge.
Jessie looked closely at his mom. She’d aged this last week, become fragile. He sensed she was close to a breakdown. He slid an arm around her thin shoulders and tugged her into his arms for a hug. He rested his head on the crown of her head.
Had he ever told her? "I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to hurt you by bringing up painful topics."
"No, my dear Jessie. You didn’t hurt me. I’ve hurt myself. And your father and Todd. For that I’m very sorry."
"Shhh." Jessie hugged her close. "It’s going to be okay."
To his dismay, his mom burst into tears. Giving her slight frame a gentle squeeze, he let her cry for a moment, patting her back. "It’s okay, Mom. Please stop."
She pulled away slightly, tears still running down her cheeks. She sniffled several times. "Oh Jessie, how can you say it’s going to be okay. Todd is dead. It won’t ever be okay again."
"I’m sorry," he said helplessly. "I’m not trying to make light of this, only to tell you it’s not your fault."
"I wish I could believe that." She sniffled again, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.
Jessie reverted to a technique he’d learned years ago to distract his mother. "Mom, I don’t suppose there’s anything to eat in the house, is there?"
"What? Oh, are you hungry?" The tears dried up as she looked at him hopefully. "Of course there’s something to eat. Let me go see what I can rustle up." With a warming smile, she wiped at her eyes again, and hurried across the room, her back straight and shoulders strong. A changed woman.
Jessie grinned. "A cup of tea would be good, too. Maybe a piece of cake or cookie for dessert?"
She stopped at the doorway and pivoted, brightness lighting up her face. "Oh yes. What a good idea. Give me a few minutes and I’ll have something ready." She bustled off, happy for the first time that day.
For her, he would eat whatever she prepared, knowing that preparing the meal for him, helped her.
Now what was the best thing for him? He considered what Cassie was trying to do and why. He had as many reasons, if not more, to find out the truth. Not only had his family lost Todd, but his mother had allowed guilt over what she believed Todd had become to consume her. Even his dad no longer knew what bottle he drank from or why.
He needed to find the answers to the cause of Todd’s death for his family’s sake. Maybe then, after some time, they could heal and start again.
***
Cassie whipped through her Facebook stuff, laughing at several of her friends’ comments. With the funeral over, the weekend recuperating, followed by the talk with Dr. Sanchez, Cassie actually felt like a heavy weight had fallen off her shoulders. She didn’t know what had been the magical cure or if time had been the catalyst, yet she also felt more at peace with Todd’s death.
Not so much at the concept of him being something like the living dead though. She wanted to believe in reincarnation or heaven or some other happy answer, only it wasn’t working out that way.
She’d spent her lunch hour in the school library trying to research life after death. She’d found many different accounts and didn’t know what to believe. The librarian had come up behind her, and Cassie had fobbed her questions off by saying she was doing research for a school project. Everyone seemed to keep a wary eye on Cassie these days.
There was one thing she still needed to do and that was to give her condolences to Todd’s father – and ask him some questions. She should have said something to him at the funeral. But he’d looked so odd, so unapproachable, she hadn’t wanted to bring on more pain. Her parents had spoken to him since and she knew Jessie would have, somewhere along the line. That she hadn’t, nudged her conscience. Todd’s father had been in her life for years, albeit on the outer edges, and at times he’d been decent. Now, if the man was computer literate, she’d be more than happy just to send him an e-card or an email. Todd’s house was only ten minutes away.
She chewed on her bottom lip, thinking. Fine, ten minutes there and ten minutes back.
***
Deputy Magnusson drove up the long twisting driveway to Martha and Peter’s house. He’d known the couple since he was in school. They were different folks. Not for everyone, with Martha being a bit touched in the head. Peter was a good sort. Solid. Not that the young folks of today knew what that meant.
Still, this whole Todd thing seemed to have affected a bunch of kids. He’d had several phone calls this last week asking whether there could be any mistake about the cause of the boy's death. In a way he’d been kinda glad to hear the ruckus. Until one of them had mentioned some writing on some wall on Facebook. He didn’t do any social networking. He knew about it, understood the dangers of it, and hated navigating through the mess. He left that crap to his wife and kids who were all die-hard acronym lovers. How did these terms even start? What were some of them? FB, AIM, WOW, COD and then there was something called Twitter, although what that meant he didn’t know.
Sometimes he wished the Internet would go down and kids would pick up a hula hoop or play jacks again. He grinned. His kids would hate that. He enjoyed fishing and hiking, even going to lake for the day. His family, on the other hand… Geesh, it took them an hour to load up all the electronic gizmos they had to take with them.
Now Peter was more like him, solid stock from the old days. He parked the truck in front of the house and walked up to the front door. He knocked, yelling out, "Anyone home?"
***
Jessie winced at the sound of his father’s truck pulling into the driveway. The garbage can bounced off his bumper as the truck jerked to a stop.
"Mom, Dad’s here. And he’s drunk, as usual." Jessie continued to eat his dessert, waiting for the upcoming train wreck of events.
The lid of the garbage can shuffled several feet after Adam’s heavy boot made hard contact. Jessie sighed as the screen door slammed opened against the side of the house. He’d broken the damn spring years ago. Jessie had fixed it once. There was no point in doing it again. Not when the cause hadn’t changed.
Fists pounded on the wooden door.
Jessie watched his mother rush to the door before he dropped his gaze to the last piece of cheesecake on his plate. Some things never changed. His dad was still a drunk and his mom still loved him. He popped the last bite into his mouth and tossed down his fork. Better see what the hell was wrong now.
"Get out of my way," his father’s voice roared through the living room.
Jessie frowned and pushed his chair backwards, rising to his feet as his father headed straight for him.
"Adam, what are you doing? Why are you so upset?"
"Hey, Dad? What’s up?"
"Don’t you ‘hey Dad me.’" Jessie’s shirt was grabbed, scrunching into Adam’s fist. Adam shoved his face into Jessie’s. "What the hell were you doing in my house today…yesterday…whenever?" he shouted.
"What?" Jessie reared back as the boozy fumes wafted into his eyes, making them tear up. "Let go of me."
"I’ll let go of you when you tell me what you were doing in Todd’s bedroom. You were always jealous of your brother." He roared the words, his face blistering red.
"Adam, stop this," Sandra screamed, tugging ineffectually at Adam’s hands. "What are you talking about?"
"Him. This lousy rat weasel that went through my house and his brother’s room." Adam released Jessie suddenly. Jessie fell back several feet, gasping for breath, his hand on his throat.
Sandra placed herself between the two men. "What are you talking about?"
Jessie should keep his mouth shut – a little hard to do when all he wanted to do was blast the bastard to shreds. "Asshole," he muttered.
"Jessie, stop that," Sandra admonished. "Don’t go adding fat to the fire." She turned to Adam. "And
you go sit down before you fall down. What do you mean, accusing your son like that?"
"Whaat?" Adam swayed, his hand going out to Sandra’s shoulder.
"Come here and sit down." She half-tugged and half-pulled her ex-husband toward the living room. He dropped to the couch, his head bouncing with the force.
Jessie followed at a slower pace, trying to think of an excuse for his presence. The closer to the truth he could get the better. Then again, why not the truth? He had a right to go into the house. His father had always said he was welcome to go visit anytime.
"Now, Adam, please explain." She sat down on the footstool in front of him.
Adam looked around to point at Jessie. "I watched him sneak out of the house. Damn thief."
Sandra turned a questioning look on Jessie. "Jessie, is this true?"
Jessie loved the fact that both of his parents had forgotten one thing – that it was supposed to be his home, too. "So what if I did? I thought I was welcome to go anytime. Spend a night, go for a visit. So much for that bullshit."
Sandra puckered up her face. "There’s no need for that type of language."
"Great, he swears and accuses me of stuff, only I can’t defend myself in the same way."
"He’s not himself," she admonished.
Jessie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. "He’s what? Not himself? This is who he is! What a joke." He strode across the living room to stand in front of them both. "He’s a joke."
"Don’t you talk to your father that way? He’s a good man."
"He’s a drunk." Jessie threw himself down in the single armchair. "Why do you put up with him?"
She shot him a stern look.
Jessie subsided. He glared at his father. "Yes, I went to your house. Sorry, didn’t know I was supposed to announce my presence. Oh, except I did but you were passed out as usual."
His father stared at him, total incomprehension on his face.
"Yes, I walked up to Todd's room. I was looking for his cell phone."
"His cell phone?" His mother stared at him in surprise.
"Yes, he didn’t have it on him when he was found and there’s no sign of it in the burned vehicle."
"Oh, honey. There’d have been nothing left if it had been in the car. What possible difference could it make now?"
"Cassie asked me to look for it."
"Cell phone?" Adam cleared his throat several times. "Todd’s phone. He always had it on him."
"I know that. I wondered what had happened to it when it wasn’t in the personal effects."
"So what? Surely that wasn’t reason enough to search Todd’s room."
Jessie shook his head. "I don’t believe you two. I’m trying to help and you’re both looking at me like I’m a criminal. What a farce." He stood up. "Why don’t you just remarry him again? You always take his side anyway."
At the edge of the living room, he tossed back, "And I won’t be spending more time with my Dad. Right now, I’d be happy never to see him again."
"Wait. Where are you going? Jessie?" His mother’s cries rang through the house.
Jessie stormed outside without answering, slamming the front door.
***
Todd watched the interaction in amazement. He’d never seen this side of the family dynamics. Jessie had always figured his life with Dad had been a walk in the park. An easy walk at that. Now he’d seen what a nightmare living with a drunk was. Character building stuff.
A bitter laugh choked out of his silent throat. Too bad they couldn’t hear him. He’d love a chance to give them all ‘what for.’ To remind them what he’d taken for granted – how precious life was. And to tell them they’d been close to being right. He’d probably been heading where they were all afraid he’d been heading.
At least they would have been right – if it hadn't been for Cassie.
Just knowing Cassie had been there had kept him on the right path, more often than not. He couldn’t bear to disappoint her. Just that adherence to her wishes had stopped him from going too far wrong. He wondered for how long that could have lasted? Maybe not for long, but maybe forever. Impossible to know now.
Todd watched Jessie storm across the yard as his mother hovered over his father while his father tried to figure out what had happened to his world.
Nothing had changed. His family was still as dysfunctional as ever.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Cassie wandered aimlessly around her neighborhood. Adam, Todd’s father wasn’t at home, so she’d been walking the block, hoping he’d return soon.
"Just go home. You don’t need to talk to him, you know."
At the sound of the beloved voice, Cassie turned, a big smile on her face. She was happy to see him, yet sad at the same time. She studied Todd’s face. His features were fading slightly, as if his ability to stay here had weakened. That was probably a good thing. He shouldn’t be here. He should be off doing whatever dead people did. Hanging around wasn’t supposed to be good according to any of the research she’d read. She loved him dearly, but she didn’t want him to stay for her or because of the uncertainty clouding the circumstances of his death. She wanted his soul to be at peace and to go wherever souls were supposed to go.
Being trapped here sounded like extending a slow painful death, rather like a crippling disease. Todd was so special, she didn’t want to see the essence of what made him who he was, become so much less.
"Whoa, what’s with the sad face?" Todd bent forward to peer into her face.
"You." Tears came to her eyes. "You’re supposed to be off doing happy soul-like things instead of stuck here."
"I’m not stuck!" he protested. There went his hands into the jean pockets, his thumbs out as bravado leaked all over. "I’m here because I want to be here."
"Are you," she whispered. "Can you leave anytime?"
"I don’t know." He looked around as if afraid someone might hear him. "I’m not sure how to leave, actually. Then, I haven’t actually tried, either."
There was something so defenseless, so appealing, so like a young boy who knows he’s supposed to do something but doesn't want to – so he makes up stories to get out of it.
"What are you doing here? My dad’s at Jessie’s. His truck is missing, in case you hadn’t realized it," he added helpfully.
She ignored Todd’s wicked grin. "Yeah, thanks for pointing out the obvious. I was hoping he’d be here soon."
As she walked to the end of the property, a truck belched around the corner before turning precariously into the driveway.
"I should warn you, he’s probably pissed. He had a fight with Jessie."
Cassie stopped abruptly. "He didn’t hurt him, did he?"
The whisper of a shrug was barely noticeable. "No, Jessie did all right. Most of the time Dad’s okay. Since my accident, well…he needs help."
Cassie snorted. "Personally, I think he needed help a long time ago."
"Yeah, quite possibly. Too bad he wasn’t in the car with me. You’d know exactly who was responsible." Disgust laced Todd’s tinny voice.
Adam exited the old Dodge pickup, a half empty bottle of Jim Beam swinging from one hand. He slammed the door so hard the whole truck shook. Starting for the house, he stumbled, catching himself before he tumbled face-down on the patchy grass.
Todd’s heavy sigh washed over her. "He’s got it bad."
She didn’t dare answer. She screwed up her courage. "Mr. Spence?"
"What?" Weaving across the lawn to his front door, Adam stared through bloodshot eyes.
It was easiest to start with condolences. "I just wanted to say I’m sorry about Todd." She shrugged. "I really miss him."
He stopped and faced her. "I loved my son. And I’ve been thinking, it just might have been your fault he’s dead."
Cassie gasped, pole-axed. "What?"
Todd stiffened at her side. "That no good lousy drunk!" He headed for his father, fury written all over his face.
Cassie only noted his actions because he cam
e between her and the belligerent drunk in front of her. "I had nothing to do with his death."
"Well, he wouldn’t have been out there with his other pals if he’d been with you, now would he?"
Cassie had to sort through that convoluted argument. "You mean I might be responsible because he wasn’t with me?" she asked cautiously.
Todd had stopped in his tracks to turn and stare back at her. The matching puzzled looks on both male faces would have been comical if it hadn’t been for the seriousness of the subject matter.