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Daniel's Darkness

Page 3

by Dwayne Gill


  “What sort of old contraption is that? It takes twenty minutes to make a cup of coffee!”

  Daniel didn’t even know what a Keurig was until she explained.

  “All I have to do is press a button, and mine pours me a cup. It’s so much easier.”

  “That’s not real coffee then. Real coffee you can hear brew. You hear it churning, and it smells oh so good.”

  Taryn couldn’t argue with that. Her dad had a real coffee maker when she was younger, and she remembered the lovely aroma in the mornings.

  They sat at the table every afternoon until dusk. Gary didn’t allow her out after dark, and Taryn didn’t want to risk Gary asking questions, though he’d never been interested in what she did after school.

  Taryn and Daniel hadn’t talked about anything too meaningful, mostly sports and school. Daniel was interested in her softball aspirations.

  “You play softball, kid?” he asked one day.

  “I haven’t played since my dad died. We used to play all the time.”

  “You should play for your school if you have skill,” Daniel said.

  “Oh, I have skill! I used to be the best in my grade.”

  “Well, there ya go. Don’t let that talent go to waste.” Daniel leaned back. He was feeling better.

  Taryn noticed the wounds on his arm healing. “So… you ever gonna tell me what happened to you? Or are you just gonna keep saying you fell?”

  Daniel paused for a second. Taryn was half-joking, but what she was asking was opening a door she had no business peering into.

  “You’re better off not knowing certain things about me, kid.”

  She frowned. “Are you a bad guy, Daniel?”

  Daniel studied her. He didn’t know what she meant by that, so he tried to put himself in her shoes. A massive man with bruises and cuts on him is staying at a shack in a trashy neighborhood. What’s she supposed to think?

  “I’m not a bad guy like Gary. But I’m not a good guy.”

  Taryn looked more relieved than disturbed at Daniel’s casual revelation; that he knew more about Gary than she realized was ignored or didn’t register. How bad must this Gary be? Daniel had never pried, but maybe he should. He’d be leaving here sooner than later. How could he go without knowing the extent of the situation? He leaned forward and put his arms on the table.

  “Taryn, I need to know about Gary. Does he hurt you?”

  Taryn flushed and lowered her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Daniel knew this was his only shot. “Taryn, look.” He waited until she looked back at him. “You’ve suffered alone long enough. You lost your dad and had to live with a strange man for years. Look where you live…” Daniel waved his arm about, prompting her to look around at the neighborhood. “This is no place for a girl like you to be.” Taryn tried to look away again, but Daniel caught her eyes and stopped her. “You’re a good kid, Taryn. You have a good heart. When I leave here, you won’t have anyone to talk to again. So talk.”

  And she did. She explained everything. Taryn told him about her dad, their remarkable relationship, even how Daniel reminded her of him, at least from a distance. She talked about the car accident and the aftermath, how they ended up moving from their beautiful home to their current house and how Gary had pushed his way into their lives. There were breaks in her voice as she described Gary’s abuse; she even showed Daniel some fresh bruises on her shoulders he left last night. Taryn was always afraid of listeners’ reaction to her story. Her daily struggles had become so routine they lost their shock value to her. She worried that if she ever told someone, like now, the person would look at her and say something like, “you gotta be tough,” or “that’s life.”

  But here, in this moment with Daniel, a robust and dangerous man she knew had likely seen a lot of violence, she saw in his eyes something she didn’t expect: empathy. His expression changed from sorrow to anger several times, and he would shift in his seat occasionally. Talking about this now, after three years of hiding, lying, and running, was liberating to Taryn. Daniel was right. She’d lose him sooner than later, and she’d be alone again. Taryn needed this if only for the emotional release. She made sure she left out no detail and struggled to recount all the countless times Gary had hurt her physically and emotionally. “He loves to call me dike. Because of my hair, and because of the way I dress.” Daniel’s eyes would narrow, and she could see the anger roiling underneath his skin.

  Taryn felt a little guilty piling all this on Daniel; it wasn’t his problem. She stopped at one point and said, “You’ve heard enough. I don’t want to upset you.”

  He looked at her, eyes filled with anger, and said, “I want to know about every scratch. Every bruise.”

  So she finished. She sat there for what must’ve been hours, recalling everything her memory allowed her to extract. Then she leaned back in her chair and exhaled, wondering what was next.

  Daniel also wondered what to do with the information. He had almost asked her at one point why she’d never reported anything, but then his childhood memories came flooding back. He had grown up in foster homes all of his life. If she were to alert someone, her fate would be the same. The system wasn’t friendly to kids in neighborhoods like this one.

  They both sat in silence for a while. Daniel didn’t quite know what to say. He knew whatever he said would sound weak and useless, like trying to comfort someone with useless clichés and platitudes. However, they both shared one thing in common.

  “We’re more similar than you think, Taryn.” She looked up, relieved that he broke the silence.

  “We both lost someone dear to us. It left big holes in both of us. Kind of left us trapped, in a way.”

  Taryn understood. Her father’s death had sentenced her to a life with an uncaring junkie mother who moved them to hell and invited a monster to join them.

  “You have done nothing to deserve any of this suffering, Taryn.”

  Daniel’s words echoed in her head. It seemed like something her father would have said had he been in that seat.

  “Who’d you lose, Daniel?” Taryn said in a shaky, tear-filled voice. It was a logical question given what he’d disclosed earlier.

  “I lost someone that reminds me a lot of you,” he said.

  “Your daughter?”

  “No. But it was someone that didn’t deserve the pain she experienced.”

  Taryn sensed guilt behind the statement but decided she had pried enough. She was too emotional right now to offer him any comfort. She lifted her watery eyes and met Daniel’s gaze. “Let’s leave. Let’s get out of here. Just you and me. You’re running from something already. I know you are. And my life couldn’t possibly be any worse if I left. Let’s go.”

  Daniel felt flattered by her offer, and it reminded him even more of the girl he had lost. She too was feisty and loveable and had won his heart. Daniel would’ve done anything for that girl; he would’ve given his life for her. But, he had failed her, and she was dead because of him. He wouldn’t let that happen again. He leaned forward and laid both of his hands on the table. Taryn reached her hands out and placed them on his, and Daniel squeezed. She undoubtedly was hoping for Daniel to reply to her request.

  “Taryn. You’re trapped. But your prison has four walls. It’s defined. My prison…it expands much farther. Your prison is not a product of your own doing. Mine is. There’s nowhere I can go to be free.”

  Taryn shook her head. “We can have each other…”

  Daniel never eased his grip. “There’s a darkness around me, in me, Taryn. A darkness you want no part of. You deserve better. You deserve better than that green house, this trashy neighborhood, Gary, your mom, and even me.”

  Plan

  It was Thursday when Taryn left Daniel’s porch, crying. Daniel knew he was doing the right thing, but it was hard to turn her away. She seemed to have understood his reasoning but wasn’t accepting the outcome. Friday afternoon she came by and visited, as usual, but she seemed dist
ant. Resigned came to Daniel’s mind. They drank coffee and talked about sports, but it wasn’t the same. Is she turning into me? If not now, it was inevitable. Daniel couldn’t watch her go down this road. He had to do something. He was working on a plan but didn’t want to tell her anything until he had it all figured out. As Taryn was leaving, she said, “Gary’s having poker night tonight. Yay for me. Bunch of drunk, high pieces of human trash all over the house.”

  “You could always hang out here,” said Daniel.

  “I can’t. Gary won’t let me out after dark.” She walked home without her usual energy.

  And that was that. Calvin came by that night, as always, and brought Daniel dinner. “You sure about this plan, big guy?” he said.

  “Positive. The girl deserves better.”

  Calvin didn’t ask many questions; that was one thing Daniel loved about him. Calvin looked across the street. There were cars lined up along that side of the road. They could hear the loud thumping of bass coming from the house. Calvin would’ve normally cracked a joke about it, but tonight he knew better. He looked at Daniel and frowned.

  “All you had to do was lay low and heal.”

  “I feel much better,” Daniel said. All of his wounds were healing, and the soreness had subsided.

  “Call me when you’re ready. My number is the only one stored in contacts.” Calvin gave him a phone and left, and Daniel waited.

  Poker Night

  Friday nights were terrible for Taryn, but once a month Gary kicked it up a notch. The last Friday of every month was poker night, and Gary would invite all his drug-dealing buddies over to play card games and drink and do whatever else. Taryn always barricaded herself in her room on those nights, and she wished right now she could go hang out with Daniel on his porch. It was impossible to sleep through these parties; the music was so loud she could barely hear herself think. She had been lying in her bed with her pillow smashed over her head for hours now. It was 9:30. Five hours to go. The party could rage all night long, but the music usually stopped around 3 a.m.

  She jumped when she heard rapping on her door. It was loud, obnoxious. She ignored it the first two times, hoping that whatever drunk had wandered down the hall would go away, but on the third round of knocking she also heard a voice. Gary. Her heart sank; she didn’t know what to do. He never cared about her or what she was doing on poker nights. As long as she was home, he left her alone. What could he want? She debated ignoring him, maybe pretending she was asleep, but she knew it wouldn’t work. Even if he believed her, he’d still be just as upset. You wake up when I knock, dike. But if she opened the door, what would he do? Would he beat her? Maybe he was so doped up and drunk this time he’d do even worse. She tried to imagine what Daniel would do. Daniel wouldn’t be afraid. She was tired of being scared all the time. If Daniel wouldn’t do anything to help her, maybe she did need to get tougher. She couldn’t cower from Gary all her life. What kind of life would that be?

  She gathered herself, walked over to the door, and opened it. Gary was standing in the doorway with the vilest grin she had ever seen. He almost looked possessed.

  “Come on in here, dike. One of the boys wants to see you.” Taryn thought about resisting, about being strong, but that look on his face, it was too much. I’m nothing, Taryn thought. Gary walked ahead and looked over his shoulder, expecting her to follow, and she did. She thought she was walking toward safety; would Gary want to rough her up in front of his friends?

  Empty beer bottles, wet napkins, and paper plates littered the living room. It smelled disgusting, like a room full of greasy mechanics. There were people everywhere. Half-naked women with men draped over them were lounging on the couch and love seat, men were sitting on the two recliners, and a host of others leaned against the walls or sat on the floor. One guy lay sprawled out underneath the bar that separated the living room and kitchen, passed out already. Taryn saw her mom sitting on the couch; she was on the middle cushion, mostly exposed and flanked by two men who were groping her. Anna seemed to look directly at her as she entered the room, but Taryn realized she was only looking through her. Anna wasn’t really there. She never was.

  The men’s faces lit up as Taryn entered the room, and Gary threw his arms into the air like a touchdown signal. They cheered and whistled at Taryn; the sound of hormone-driven, drunken men caused her to backpedal.

  Gary turned to her, grabbed her right wrist, and pulled her forward. “John wanted to see you, babe.”

  He had never referred to her as “babe” before, but she would’ve preferred “dike.” Hearing him call her this made her nauseous. A tall, thin, nasty-looking man stepped forward with a wild look in his eyes. Taryn couldn’t go anywhere; Gary was still gripping her wrist.

  “Wow, you’re a woman now! You are smoking hot!” said John.

  Taryn wanted to vomit. He walked closer and wrapped his arms around her. He felt his hand move down her back. Taryn screamed. John leaned in to kiss her neck, and she bit his cheek. She locked and held; once her grip failed, they’d kill her, so she tried to hold on as long as possible. These could be my last moments, she thought. John screamed in agony and tried to pull away, but Taryn wouldn’t relent. Gary, seeing what was happening, released her wrist and punched her in the back of the head.

  Taryn saw stars and was too weak to maintain her bite. She released John and stumbled forward, groggy. Gary was furious; his eyes seemed to be glowing red. The rest of the room filled with mixed reactions; some looked shocked, some were laughing, and others weren’t even paying attention. Taryn must get out of this house, or she’d die. Her head was throbbing already, but she willed the pain away. Gary moved toward her again, and she was sure he would throw another punch. She stepped forward and met him mid-stride on his off-foot, crowding him so he couldn’t get as much leverage on his next blow. It startled him enough to make him pause, allowing Taryn a brief opening. She thrust her right knee into his crotch with all her might; she had never invested that much physical effort into anything before. Taryn expected him to shake it off and come right back at her, but instead, he doubled over in pain and was letting out balloon-like puffs of air and gagging.

  Taryn made her move. Without looking at the others, she darted toward the front door and exited, almost falling as she tried to run down the steps of the front porch. She was still shaken up from Gary’s punch. She gained her footing and ran forward. Although her vision was blurry, she knew the general direction of Daniel’s porch. She stumbled forward, fell, then rolled back over into a crouch, trying to get up again. She was breathing hard; every sound echoed through her head. She was about to stand again when she felt herself levitate. In one fluid motion, all the stress on her limbs vanished, and she relaxed. She felt her body rise and lie horizontally. Someone’s saving me.

  “Dad?” she heard herself mumble. Taryn could feel the muscles in his arms cradling her, the hardness of his stomach and chest; she felt safe for the first time in years.

  “He won’t hurt you again.”

  It didn’t sound like her father. She looked to her left, and even though his image was blurry, she knew it was Daniel.

  Darkness Falls

  Daniel carried her into the house and laid her on the couch. Although he hated to put her on the dirty piece of furniture, it would have to do for now. He’d seen enough concussions to know she had one, so while he was furious, he wasn’t as worried about her immediate condition. He told her to stay awake, took out his phone, and called Calvin.

  “Come now, please.” He hung up and went to his bedroom where he retrieved a pillow and a comforter. He walked back to the living room, covered Taryn up, and placed the pillow beneath her head. She sighed. He turned to leave and heard Taryn say something. He leaned in close and said, “What, Taryn?”

  She looked serene; he thought she had been towing the line between consciousness and unconsciousness, but up close she seemed at peace. Resigned. She reached up, wrapped her arms around his thick neck, and whispered, “You s
aved me.”

  Daniel fought back old familiar emotions, reminding him of a past that never would let go of him. The girl he hadn’t been able to save flashed through his mind. Taryn thought he’d already rescued her. He could still make that a reality.

  She let go of his neck and her eyes filled with tears. He patted her on the head and looked at her.

  “I haven’t saved you, kid. Not yet.”

  He walked onto the front porch and sat on his tires.

  Ten minutes later, Gary exited the house and looked around, up and down the street, then glanced over at Daniel’s house. He walked toward the porch, and Daniel waited, glaring at him. Gary stepped into a pool of light on Daniel’s side of the street and stopped. He looked furious, like he wanted to kill. He looked up at Daniel, or in his direction, but it was too dark for him to see onto the porch. Gary then turned back and stepped inside the green house. Daniel was no fool; he knew it was just the beginning.

  A few minutes later Gary emerged again, this time followed by four men who looked like they could handle themselves. Gary was decisive as he made a beeline toward Daniel’s porch without breaking stride. He’s got swagger with his boys behind him, thought Daniel. The five men stopped short of the porch steps but were close enough to see Daniel. They all looked surprised at his size, and Daniel could sense their apprehension.

  Gary had something to prove though; he wouldn’t let anything deter him tonight. “I’m here for Taryn. I know the little dike is here.”

  Daniel frowned. Hearing Gary’s choice of words first-hand forced him to recall all the terrible things Taryn had told him. I entered your nightmare with you, Taryn. Except I’m the boogeyman tonight.

  “You should go home. These streets out here can be unforgiving,” said Daniel flatly. There’d be no jokes tonight.

  Gary smirked, and the guys behind him seemed on edge, waiting to see how he handled this challenge of authority.

 

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