Reunion (A Psychological Suspense with Murder, Mystery and the Paranormal)

by Jeff Bennington

  Kate looked away from Mr. Gardner and her jaw made large dramatic chewing movements because she had a wad of gum in her mouth. “So, is it true that you could sandblast your silverware by putting them in front of a key hole during the black blizzard?” She turned her head and grinned while the other seniors marveled at her audacity.

  Mr. Gardner curled his lips, expressing his disappointment at Kate’s lack of seriousness.

  Alexis Fairchild and Sydney Frey rolled their eyes. They were on the cheerleading squad. Bryan watched their reactions, but knew Kate didn’t care what they thought about her. They openly resented Kate for being with Nick. On a separate occasion, Bryan heard one of them say that Kate didn’t fit the jock-girlfriend image.

  Bryan put his head down and smirked.

  He liked Kate, but he didn’t want to get in trouble. He had too much going for him. Yet there was something about her that drew him in. His attraction centered on her inner beauty and her wit, although many considered her somewhat of an oddity, because of her black clothing, independence and punk-rock attitude. Bryan knew she could verbally take anyone down, including himself, at any moment. He liked her strength, sense of humor and deep-seated confidence, even though his lack of action demonstrated how intimidated he felt around her.

  Regardless of his feelings, Bryan had a dilemma; Nick Tooley already claimed Kate as his own. Ironically, Nick had a roving eye and flirted with other girls when Kate wasn’t around. As a result, Bryan patiently waited for the right moment to win her heart. Kate seemed to be waiting too, but didn’t hold Bryan’s hand in the process. Bryan assumed that he had all the time in the world.

  • • •

  David checked his watch—9:05 a.m. Time to go, he thought to himself. He blew the remaining smoke out of the side of his mouth and swallowed the remaining portion, the roach, as customary. When the air cleared, he marched into the house, knowing that his mother and stepfather would still be asleep. They made a habit out of staying out late at the local bars. David’s mother, Sheila, had a lot of mental anguish to drown out. Her first husband was depraved and abusive. Unfortunately, her second proved to be much the same.

  Once David arrived at the humble door to the master’s bedroom, he smelled a strong, masculine odor and remembered why he hated them both. He stood there staring at a large hole that Bill, his stepfather, had punched through late one night when he and his mother were fighting. Covered with duct tape to maintain privacy, it certainly didn’t hide the memories. They were crystal clear in David’s mind.

  At that moment, his thoughts flashed back several months to another night when the couple had returned home drunk from barhopping. Bill staggered to the door and yelled to Sheila, while he waited for her to come in.

  “Come on, Sheila! Get in the house!”

  Sheila leaned against Bill’s truck with her head down and responded, “I’ll come in when I’m good ‘n ready!”

  “What the fu—? Oooh-ooh-ooh! I’m gonna beat the shit out of you…and your big ass too!”

  Bill angrily stepped off the threshold and hurried toward Sheila. She pawed at his truck to keep from falling over. David watched through his bedroom window. Although he anticipated what might happen, he felt powerless to stop any of it. He had tried on several other occasions, but Bill just beat the life out of him as well.

  Sheila never saw Bill coming toward her. David opened his window to warn her, but Bill turned and bitterly pointed his finger at David, exhorting him with a silent glare. As previously trained, David shut the window. He said nothing.

  Sheila turned away from Bill, unaware of his impending wrath. When he approached her, he grabbed a wad of hair from behind her head and pulled. He yanked her so hard that she nearly toppled over. Somehow she regained her balance, but stumbled wherever Bill led. Her head obeyed the whims of her abuser. When he tugged, her head jetted forward. When he turned a corner upon entering the house, her head followed.

  “Don’t you ever mouth off to me like that or I’ll kill you! I swear on the Holy Bible!” With his lips tight and eyebrows compressed, he pulled her into the trailer. David watched Bill drag her inside and then followed them through the home, keeping a safe distance.

  “Let go! Stop, Bill! You’re hurting me! Stop, you prick!”

  Sheila screamed to no avail.

  Bill punched a hole through the bedroom door in his debauched attempt to enter the room. With his hand still clenching Sheila’s hair, he thrust his knee hard into her gut, and followed through with a swift uppercut to her face. She fell backward on the bed and uncontrollably rolled off to one side. She tried to crawl backward to escape him, but came to an abrupt stop. She had pinned herself between the bed and the wall.

  David tried once again to assist his mother, but she screamed, “Get out of here, David! He ain’t hurtin’ nobody!”

  Bill threw a bottle of cologne at David but missed. The bottle shattered and filled the room with a wild, untamable fragrance. At that point, David mentally checked out. He closed the door and stood there staring through the hole, while his mother screamed in agony from the blows and slaps that cut and bruised her already scarred face.

  Mentally entering back into the moment, David’s eyes glared at the duct tape that covered the hole. Unlike the last time he had entered his mother’s bedroom, he had no intention of helping her any more. In some ways, David hated her just as much as Bill.

  She didn’t keep her promises.

  With sweaty palms, David turned the knob, opened the punctured door and walked in. He stepped up to the bed and stared down at the two bodies wrapped in booze-stained sheets. Bill was snoring. Son of a bitch, he thought to himself. Thanks for the gun, Bill. David examined his victim, eyes squinting with hatred. I’m gonna use it today—just for fun.

  He covered Bill’s Smith & Wesson with his superhero pillow, shut off his conscience, pointed the weapon at Bill’s head and pulled the trigger. He quickly turned the gun toward his mother. She woke and sat up, startled and shocked to see David standing there.

  “Wha…what are you doing?” Her eyes struggled to open.

  David stood still, pointing the gun only three feet from her face. It took her a few seconds to come to her senses. She looked at Bill and saw the spray of red.

  “David! What did you do?”

  She looked at Bill again and shook him to see if he was alive. She threw her bloody hands into the air and grabbed her head in a panicked frenzy.

  “Oh, my god! Oh, my god! You killed him! David, you killed him!”

  Sheila held her hands in front of her, terrified that she would be next.

  The voices told David to shoot, but he couldn’t do it. He felt his finger start to move over the trigger as if it had a mind of its own, but he refused to let the demons take his mother. Instead, he smacked her in the head with the butt of the gun. She collapsed and fell into the blood that had begun to accumulate around Bill’s head. She continued breathing. Bill did not.

  David watched Bill’s spirit drift away, while his ears were ringing from the blast. Blood flowed from the back of Bill’s head and soaked the dirty sheets. David looked at what he had done without remorse, and then wiped the splattered blood off his face with the pillowcase. His mouth contorted in a spasmodic swirling motion; the result of a tic that visited when he grew anxious. I’d better get out of here, he thought. Someone’s gonna call 9-1-1 soon. He turned and ran outside, started the Chevette and sped off toward the school.

  3rd

  David drove his car through town and listened to his music that screamed the virtues of revenge and murder. The music pounded in his brain, driving home the messages that catered to his kind of thinking. The songs mirrored his temperament and helped him to feel good about what he had just done, feeding his appetite for destruction.

  With one hand on the wheel and another pinching a cigarette swiped from Bill’s dresser, he peered through the smoke and said a silent goodbye to the town he hated so much. He wondered if he could’ve liked Cresce
nt Falls if things had gone differently. He looked at the small white steeple church on the corner and the remodeled storefronts that lined Main Street. Nah, he thought. It was always too boring.

  He rolled down his window, flicked the ashes from his cigarette, stuck his head out and felt the air whip across his face. He wanted to scream, I hate you Crescent Falls, but he didn’t want to blow his cover.

  He thought about Bill lying in the pool of blood, dead. “One down,” he said quietly, “several more to go.” He turned left on Carter Street and right on High School Road. He took a deep breath as soon as the school came into view. He looked at the clock on the dash—9:14 a.m.

  • • •

  Mr. Gardner stood outside his classroom door and waved as the students trampled through the hallway. He could always see a difference in their energy as the school year came to a close, when spring fever ran rampant. He felt it too. As he stood there, he thought about taking his children camping and boating on Pinewood Lake in Northern California where his extended family held their annual reunion. It was enough to make him smile.

  He looked at his watch as Tanner and Kenny walked past his room on their way to the awards ceremony. It was 9:19 a.m.

  “Good luck, boys.”

  Kenny smiled and said, “Thanks.”

  Tanner attempted a smile but dropped his head as he walked on. Mr. Gardner wondered what was wrong with Tanner. Hmm. That was odd, he thought.

  He looked across the aisle at Miss Lennow, who was likewise observing the stampede.

  “We had a real good group of kids this year, huh?” he said.

  “Yeah. Maybe our future isn’t as bleak as some people say it is.”

  Mr. Gardner chuckled. “I hope not.” He thought of David. “By the way, have you seen David Ray this morning?”

  Miss Lennow shook her head and looked down the hall and called out, “Well look who’s coming. It’s Maria Vasquez, this year’s valedictorian!”

  Maria smiled and her olive skin reddened with embarrassment.

  “How are you, Maria?” asked Miss Lennow. “I just heard the good news.”

  Maria grinned and stopped walking. Her boyfriend, Darrin Williams, stopped right beside her. “Thank you,” she said. “They told me last night. I guess Tanner just missed it by a tenth of a point.”

  “He’ll be fine,” said Miss Lennow. “I think he’s got a full ride at Boise State, doesn’t he?”

  “Yeah. I think so.”

  Mr. Gardner noticed Maria’s small fingers gripping Darrin’s hand. He learned a lot about his students just by watching them interact. Sweet girl, he thought to himself. Smart, but a real firecracker.

  “Hi, Darrin,” Mr. Gardner said. “You doing okay?”

  “Yup.” He gripped Maria’s hand.

  “How was prom?”

  Darrin looked at Maria with his dark-brown eyes and smiled. “It was great. And Maria, well, she was beautiful.”

  “Oh, come on!” Maria rolled her eyes and tugged on his arm and he jerked forward. “You’re such a mush!”

  Darrin looked at Mr. Gardner as he stumbled by and said, “Poetry in motion.” He pointed at Maria and rapidly raised his eyebrows. “That’s what she is—poetry in motion.”

  Miss Lennow chuckled. “Cute couple, huh?”

  Mr. Gardner nodded. “Shame some parents had to make a big deal out of the racial thing.”

  “Well, someday that’ll change. For now, the parents who have an issue with black boys dating Hispanic girls will just have to get over it.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that. I’m just glad she’s the valedictorian. She deserves it.” Mr. Gardner cupped his mouth and shouted, “Congratulations, Maria!”

  Maria tilted her head backward. “Gracias, Señor Gardner!” she said and walked toward the cafeteria, laughing with Darrin.

  Darrin turned around too, smiled and gave Mr. Gardner and Miss Lennow the peace sign.

  Mr. Gardner chuckled as he witnessed Maria’s hard-driving love. She’s going to be something special one day, he thought. He grinned and remembered his early days, courting the girl who became his wife and the mother of his children. I suppose I was head over heels too, he thought. He closed the door behind him and headed toward the cafeteria, still smiling.

  • • •

  David and his ramshackle vehicle were parked in the back of the school parking lot at 9:22 a.m. He stepped out of his car, walked to the rear of the vehicle and carefully opened the dilapidated trunk. He lifted his duffle bag with a grunt and set it on the ground. After slamming the hatchback shut, he reached inside the car and pulled out his manifesto. Careful not to bend or disfigure the critical document, he painstakingly inserted the proclamation into a plastic ziplock bag. With the paper securely in place, he fastened the bag to his shirt with four baby pins to protect the document from the spray and splatter of the massacre. He posted it on his chest to ensure that those who’d find him would read the document.

  Satisfied with his preparations, he pulled his black jacket over the holstered guns, threw the duffle bag strap over his shoulder and began to walk toward his destiny. Aware that he would be hated forever, he ignored the consequences. He looked straight ahead, took one last drag from his cigarette and flicked it to the ground.

  As David walked across the pavement, a young mother led her son away from the school.

  “Hurry up! We’re going to be late for the orthodontist,” she said as she pulled at his jacket.

  The boy and the mother stared as David came closer. David sensed her distrust. That’s right, lady. Don’t trust the boy in black, he thought. He stared back at the woman and grinned a villainous smile.

  As the mother and son approached him, David recalled a time when Sheila had taken him out of school for a court appearance when he was six. She had pulled and tugged at him too. The memory reminded him of how she grew desperate for stability and financial security, and eventually shacked up with John Ray. They married and he gave his name to David to serve as a reminder of his affection. Four years later, they divorced and Sheila pressed charges against John.

  “Come on David! Hurry up!” Sheila had scolded her six-year-old son, as she pulled him along.

  “But I don’t wanna go. I hate him! I don’t ever want to see him again!”

  “Listen baby; you gotta go. The court said you gotta be there and you gotta say what he done to you.”

  “No!” he fired back. David pulled away from Sheila and ran into the playground. Sheila chased after him. She caught up with him at the jungle gym, grabbed his arm and yelled, “David! Stop it! Now listen to me. I done everything I could to take care of you. I done my best to find you a daddy and a father figure. I ain’t perfect! Ain’t no one perfect. But you gotta tell the judge everything, if you want John Ray to leave us alone. You gotta tell the judge where he touched you and what he done to you, and everything! I can’t do that for you, baby!” Sheila wept and wiped her tears as she cried out, “I can’t help you this time! You gotta do it, boy.”

  “But I’m scared, Mama.” David started to cry. “I’m scared he’s gonna get me again. I’m scared he’s gonna make me do those bad things or hurt you! What if they let him go, Mama? What if he kills me like he said he would? What if he comes back into my dreams again? What if—?” David collapsed into Sheila’s arms, crying as she held him tight. He trusted her. She kissed his little head.

  Moments later, she pulled away, looking him square in the eye. David remembered her promise. “Listen, Davey. I love you more than anything in the whole world! You know that. And I ain’t ever gonna let anyone hurt you or me again, you hear me? You hear me, boy?” David nodded his head. “Ain’t nobody ever gonna do that to you again. If they try, they’re gonna have to kill me first, cause life just wouldn’t be worth livin’ knowin’ that someone touched you or hurt you again. Do you hear me, Davey?”

  David heard her loud and clear. He told the whole truth and nothing but the truth that day in court. The jury convicted John Ray of seve
ral counts of child molestation, neglect and battery. Sadly, Sheila didn’t keep her promise to her son.

  Returning to the moment, David stood in the parking lot, absent of all emotion, while the mother glared at him suspiciously. David looked at her and shrugged. “Better get the hell out of here, lady,” he said. “You and your boy.”

  She grabbed the boy’s hand and took off running toward her car. She don’t know shit, he mused. Probably thinks I’m gonna start a fight or something. He laughed and picked up his pace. He looked at his watch and thought, right on schedule. It was 9:28 a.m. He heard the woman’s car tear out of the parking lot, but kept looking straight ahead. By the time David stood in front of the glass entryway into the cafeteria, which also served as the school auditorium, he could hear sirens screaming in the distance. He grinned, growled and reached for the door.

  • • •

  Maria walked through the crowd with Darrin beside her. She watched the mass of teenagers assemble in the cafeteria. A roar of voices and footsteps echoed through the halls, while the sound of laughter peaked through the shouts and jeers of nearly two hundred of her fellow students. She could smell the beginnings of the kitchen crew’s lunch preparations. In front of her, a couple of teachers followed the crowd into the large open room. Maria thought, they’re just waiting to catch some irresponsible kid in an act of insubordination. Wish they’d get Nick Tooley one of these days. Her brow furrowed at the thought of Nick’s insensitivities.

  As she entered the cafeteria, she happened to catch Tanner’s eye and nodded a friendly hello. He nodded back.

  Darrin put his arm around Maria and asked, “So, you wanna hang out after school?” He stood shoulder to shoulder with her, and pressed his free hand deep into his pants pocket.

  She threw an arm around his waist and replied, “Of course I want to…but I need to help Mama with the house. She’s planning a big party after graduation, and she’s pretty anal about that kind of stuff.” Maria frowned and laid her head on his shoulder, looking up at Darrin with puppy-dog eyes. “Sorry, D.”