M.I.A.

by Michael Allen Dymmoch

  I pointed to her dress. “Is that his blood?”

  “No. John’s. If Rory’d gotten close enough to get his blood on me, he’d be dead.”

  “We can talk about it in the car,” John said. “Let’s get out of here before they charge you for another day.”

  With my crutches, it took me a long time to get to the living room. It was the last Friday in October; I’d been home from the hospital just one day. Before I opened the door, I looked out the front window. Stephanie’s car was in the drive. No driver. I almost fell over trying to get the door open fast.

  Beth was on the porch, her face all red and puffy. It took me a whole ten seconds to figure out she’d been crying.

  “Beth, what’s wrong?” I grabbed her hand and pulled her into the house and hugged her.

  She pulled away, and I had to hop around on my good leg to keep from falling on my ass. “C’mon,” I said. I got my crutches under control and gimped off toward the family room.

  Beth followed. “Is your mom home?”

  “At work.”

  We got into the kitchen; I asked if she wanted anything to drink. She shook her head.

  “Okay,” I said. “Sit down and tell me what’s the matter.”

  I propped my butt against the counter and leaned my crutches on it. I pointed to the couch. Beth threw herself onto it and folded her arms across her chest. She was so small and limber she could almost touch her fingers together behind her back. She bit her lip.

  “Beth, what’s wrong?”

  She looked up at me, then looked away. “I missed my period.”

  “So?” I can be pretty dim sometimes.

  “I’ve never been late before. I’m pregnant.”

  “Couldn’t there be another reason?”

  “No. I took one of those do-it-yourself tests. I’m pregnant.”

  I suddenly felt like I’d been run over by a truck. I grabbed my crutches and hobbled over to sit next to her. I didn’t touch her.

  “How long before you have to tell anyone?”

  She looked at me like I was crazy. “This isn’t just gonna go away. In another couple months everybody’ll know just by looking at me.”

  “No. I know. But that gives us time to figure out what to do.”

  “Us?”

  “I got you into this.”

  She stared at me for a very long time, looking mad. Then she giggled.

  We both started laughing.

  “It’s not funny,” she said.

  That made us stop. For about seven-tenths of a second. We looked at each other and started laughing again. Hysterically. Until we had tears in our eyes.

  Then Beth started sobbing.

  I grabbed her and held her. She put her face against me and just cried. I braced my good leg and pulled her onto my lap. I held her until she stopped sobbing and was asleep.

  I must have drifted off, too.

  My ma woke me turning on the kitchen light. She had a bag of groceries that she put on the counter.

  It was dark outside. Beth was still sleeping on my lap. She looked like a little girl. My girl. She looked too young to be a mother. Or a wife. But it was too late to worry about that.

  When I said, “Hi, Ma,” Beth opened her eyes.

  Ma was cool. She said, “Hi, Beth,” like it was completely normal to come home and find her sleeping on my lap on the family room couch.

  Beth said, “Hi, Mrs. Fahey.” She looked out the window. It was already dark. “Oh, my God. What time is it?”

  “Almost six,” Ma said.

  “I’m gonna get killed.” Beth stood up. “I was s’posed to be back with the car by now.”

  “Why don’t you call home, explain that you were delayed. And ask if you can stay for dinner.”

  “No. Thank you. It’s not my—It’s my friend Stephanie’s car.”

  “Beth,” I said, reaching for her hand. “Chill. Call Steph and tell her what happened. Ask her what she wants you to do.”

  Beth said, “Where’s—”

  “The phone’s over there.” I pointed to the wall phone by the outside door.

  “Better yet,” Ma said, “why don’t you use the phone in the living room?”

  “Good idea,” I said.

  Beth said, “Thank you,” and went toward the living room door.

  I mouthed, “Thanks, Ma,” behind Beth’s back.

  Ma started putting the groceries away. “John’s coming for dinner.” She tried to sound casual, but there was something in her voice I hadn’t heard since she used to kid with my dad about “getting lucky.”

  “That’s cool.” It was cool if she was starting to notice John.

  When Beth came back, she looked better. “Steph said she’s got me covered.” She looked at Ma. “I’d be happy to stay for dinner. Can I help with anything?”

  Beth and John hit it off right away. Another good sign. I wondered if I could ask him what to do about the mess we were in. Tomorrow.

  As it got later, Beth got more and more nervous. Even John noticed.

  He asked her, “Is something wrong?”

  “It’s just—I’ve never driven home alone this late at night before.”

  Ma said, “Maybe you should stay overnight and drive home in the morning. You don’t have school.”

  “Oh, no. Thanks. But if my folks ever found out, they’d kill me. And you, too.”

  John said, “How ’bout I follow you in my car?”

  “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

  “You didn’t. I offered.”

  Beth nodded.

  “Or if it’s okay with his mother, Jimmy could ride with you and I’ll bring him back.” He looked at Ma.

  She seemed surprised, but she nodded.

  So that’s how it went down. Except Ma rode along, too.

  In John’s car.

  John

  It didn’t surprise me to see the state investigator again. Not long after Jimmy came home from the hospital, Crowley came into the shop; Davey pointed him to my office. I’d just made coffee. I offered Crowley a cup, and we sat in the office to drink it.

  “What can I do for you today, Sergeant?”

  “Tell me about your little run-in with Deputy Sheriff Sinter.”

  “He’s got a jones for Rhiann Fahey and apparently sees me as a rival. He’s tried to beat me to death on two occasions.”

  “That’s a pretty serious charge.”

  “Did you read the Alva police report?”

  He nodded. “I wasn’t taking your complaint about him stalking Mrs. Fahey too seriously until he backed you up with that little rampage.” Crowley shook his head. “Lucky for us he’s criminally stupid. Turns out, he is the cop those football players mentioned. The sheriff gave me a copy of the ticket he wrote them.”

  “So he thought about what they said about being set up and figured out that Jimmy used him. And he decided to get payback.”

  Crowley nodded. “Looks that way. Proving it won’t be easy.”

  “He had plenty of opportunities to get at Jimmy’s car—always doing radar on our street. Jimmy always parked in the driveway.”

  “I’d like to get a little more before we bring him in for questioning. Meanwhile, we’re revisiting several previous assault complaints.”

  “Good. Has he been suspended?”

  “Reassigned to clerical duties pending disposition of the charges. The sheriff’s holding his gun—the one he admits to possessing.”

  “I suspect it’s not the only one he owns.”

  Crowley finished his coffee and put the mug on my desk. “We’re looking into that, too.”

  Jimmy

  “They want two hundred and fifty for it,” John said. “Not a bad deal. And it’s an automatic, so you can drive it with your cast.”

  That was the clincher. No way I could manage a clutch with my bum leg. And I could always trade the car once I was out of the cast.

  “Deal,” I said. “I’ll get Finn to drive me to the bank. Tell them I’ll
pick it up tomorrow.”

  “If you like, I can advance you the money. You could drive it home today.”

  “Thanks, John.”

  When I showed up for work Friday afternoon, Dr. Pulaski wasn’t glad to see me. The back door was locked, so I had to go in the front. The waiting room was jammed—everybody trying to get their pets in to see the doc before the weekend. The receptionist told me to go in one of the exam rooms and wait for the doctor—which was weird. It took about ten minutes before he came in.

  “Beth’s not here,” he said right away. No “Hi, Jimmy. How are you?” No “Glad to have you back.”

  “Did something happen?”

  “Yeah, something happened. Her father showed up here with his shorts in a bunch because he found out you two were sneaking around behind his back. He blames me for not telling him. So she’s gone. The best kennel girl I ever had. You’re gone, too. You’re trouble.” He turned and walked out, just like that.

  I wasn’t sure what to do next. Or where to find Beth. It sounded like she was grounded for life, so she’d probably be at home. But if I just drove up and rang the bell, her father would probably beat me to death. Then I remembered I had her number.

  I drove to a gas station and used the pay phone. After five rings, a woman’s voice said, “You’ve reached the Wilding residence. We’re not able to come to the phone right now…” I hung up. Fast.

  Wilding residence? I hadn’t dialed my grandmother’s number by mistake. And the voice on the answering machine didn’t sound like Rosa. Maybe Finn wrote down the number wrong. Or maybe it was some kind of joke. I asked the gas station guy for a telephone book and looked up Wilding. There were two listed in Greenville—my grandparents and a Robert Wilding. Which had to be my uncle Bobby. I checked the address. Beth’s address. That wasn’t possible. But when I read it again, it hadn’t changed.

  I started to feel sick. But my cousin’s name was Liz.

  And Steve told me she was mean and ugly. And Steve was probably putting me on.

  Liz? Beth? Elizabeth?

  It was too gross! It was like Oedipus. It was too late to do anything about it.

  I wondered if Beth had figured it out.

  I’ll bet her dad did. He was probably mad enough to lynch me. Or set me on fire. He was probably mad enough to scare Dr. Pulaski to death, even if he didn’t tell him the whole story.

  I had to talk to Beth about it. Had to see her. But how, without risking both our lives?

  As I hobbled back to the car, I got an idea. Nobody in Greenville had seen my new car. Nobody would recognize it. I could just drive to Beth’s house and park nearby and wait. If I stayed out of sight until dark, I might get a chance to see her.

  Which is pretty much how it went down. I drove to the megamall on the interstate and used most of my cash to get supplies—a pair of kid’s binoculars from Toys “R” Us, then a six-pack of Coke, a big bag of Cheetos, paper towels, duct tape, flashlight, and batteries from Kmart. And a cane, so I could ditch my crutches. I was ready for anything.

  Except figuring out what to do about the mess I was in.

  When I got to Beth’s neighborhood, I parked and studied the houses. It was close to Halloween and almost everyone had put up decorations—pumpkins, scarecrows, fake spiderwebs. Beth’s house had paper cutouts of witches and ghosts stuck on the windows. There was a light blue Cadillac DeVille parked out front.

  Fortunately, it was getting dark pretty early. So by the time I’d gotten bored with the scenery, it was dark enough to recon.

  I didn’t have to. As soon as it was dark, Beth’s front porch lights went on. A woman and two kids came out and got into the Caddy. The woman started the engine and climbed over into the passenger’s seat. And waited. For about ten minutes.

  Then a big man came out and paused on the porch to talk to someone still inside. I studied him through my binoculars. It was my uncle Bob, all right.

  I was glad I hadn’t eaten; I felt sick.

  “I don’t want to hear another word,” Bob yelled in through the door. “Just stay in your room!”

  He had to be yelling at Beth!

  The thought of her made me feel better. If they were going out, I’d have a chance to see her.

  Bob slammed the door. He stalked to the Cadillac and climbed in, then slammed the door. He burned rubber as he backed out of the drive, even more as he took off down the street.

  Just in case he forgot something and had to come back, I gave him five whole minutes before I got out of the car.

  Beth didn’t answer the door. I rang the bell until I got tired of hearing it. I tried knocking. Finally, I hobbled around the house yelling her name as loud as I could. She was standing on the porch when I got back around to the front. She had on a bathrobe and looked like she’d been crying.

  “Jimmy, get out of here.”

  “I’m not leaving until I talk to you.”

  “Are you crazy? If my dad finds you here, he’ll kill you!”

  It hit me—I didn’t care. I couldn’t imagine life without Beth. I shrugged.

  She took me by the shoulders and shook me. “I am not exaggerating. My dad will kill you.”

  I crossed my arms and stood my ground.

  She looked around. There was no sign of the Cadillac, but a neighbor across the street was standing in his doorway, staring. Beth grabbed my arm and pulled me inside.

  She closed the door and leaned back against it. Her eyes filled with tears. “What are we gonna do?”

  “Your dad knows that you’re pregnant?”

  She nodded and started sobbing. “He says you’re my cousin. He wants me to get an abortion.”

  “What do you say?”

  “Are you?”

  I nodded. “Billy Wilding was my birth father.” I moved closer and put my arms around her. And stroked her hair.

  She pushed me away. “Did you know?”

  “Not till today.”

  She balled up her hands and pounded my chest. Not hard. In frustration. “What are we gonna do?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Yeah.” I knew I sounded annoyed but we were wasting time.

  “I don’t want an abortion.”

  “So don’t get one.”

  “You don’t understand. My dad—”

  “Is an asshole. But it’s your body. Your kid.” My kid!

  “He’s not giving me a choice. He’s taking me on Monday.”

  “The hell he is. Get some stuff together. Let’s get out of here.”

  “But where can we go? He’ll call the police.”

  I took her face in my hands. “Look. I don’t care if we are cousins. I love you. I don’t want your dad to hurt you. Or me. But he’s just a grown-up goon. A bully. You can’t give in to a bully.”

  She was real quiet for a minute.

  I tried one more argument. “Beth, if you don’t want me to ever touch you again, it’s okay. Or if you never want to see me again. And if you don’t care about getting an abortion, I can live with that. But don’t stay here and go through with it just because of your old man. You’ll hate yourself if you do.”

  “Would you hate me?”

  I shook my head. “I could never hate you.”

  She studied my face for a long time. Then she said, “I’ll go get dressed.”

  I had to stop at Steve’s to get my stuff. I figured he’d be working, and planned to leave a note, but as soon as I put my key in the lock the door opened.

  “Hey, Jimmy. You’re in early.” He looked behind me and spotted Beth. “Liz, nice to see you. You two finally got introduced.”

  Beth blushed, then started laughing. Hysterically.

  I said, “Can we come in?”

  Steve swung the door open and stepped back. “My casa is your casa.”

  I put my arm around Beth and guided her inside. We followed Steve into the living room.

  Steve looked at my cast and said, “Almost good as new, huh?”r />
  “It’s mending.”

  “Well, sit down. Make yourselves at home.”

  Beth said, “Thanks, but we really can’t stay.”

  “Just came by for a pit stop?”

  I said, “Actually, I came to get my stuff.”

  Steve gave me a suspicious look and waited. Then he crossed his arms and said, “One of you is going to tell me what’s going on.”

  So we did.

  When we finished, he just sighed and said, “All this because your dickhead father—” He looked at Beth. “Judges everyone by himself.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Steve looked at her and grinned. “He and Rachel had to get married because you were on the way. I guess he thought if he kept you away from boys, history couldn’t repeat itself.” He shook his head. “What are you gonna do?”

  “Go somewhere her father can’t find us until we figure out what we’re gonna do.”

  “Not much of a plan.”

  Before I could answer, a phone rang.

  “Steve, you got a phone!”

  “Yeah,” he said as he got up to answer. “I thought it might be nice to talk to your mother once in a while.”

  When he came back, he told me, “That was your aunt Rachel. Bob’s on his way over, loaded for bear. You better hit the road.”

  “He’s coming here?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “He’ll kill you, even if he doesn’t find us here.”

  “Don’t worry. As soon as you two are gone, I’m callin’ the cavalry.”

  Rhiann

  Friday afternoon, John insisted he service my car, after which he took me to dinner while Davey washed and detailed it. By the time we were finished eating—and talking—it was nearly ten o’clock.

  “Let’s leave your car at the shop tonight,” John said. “We can pick it up tomorrow after breakfast.”

  “But what’ll I do tonight?”

  “If you come home with me, you can look at my etchings.”

  Which is just what I did.

  Jimmy

  Early the next morning, I stopped at Finn’s—to get him before he left for work. “Wait in the car,” I told Beth. “I’ll just be a minute.”