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

by Jeff Bennington

  “That’s okay. Need any help?”

  “What kind of help are you offering?”

  “The kind of help that’ll take your mind off housework.”

  “Darrin!” Maria smacked him on the arm, then rested her head back on his shoulder. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”

  “Oh…” he said, chuckling, “You know.” He pulled a chair out for Maria to sit on.

  “What—ever.” She rolled her eyes and sat down.

  Darrin sat down on the next chair and turned toward her. His smile faded and his eyes grew sober.

  “I have something for you,” he said.

  Overjoyed, Maria smiled and clasped her hands together. “Really? What?”

  “This.” Darrin handed her a small, folded piece of paper. “I wrote it last night. Wanted to say a few things you don’t hear very often.”

  “Can I read it now?”

  “Mm-mm. Later.”

  Maria pressed her fingers together as if praying, “Please?”

  “Uh-uh! No way!” he said. “I want it to be special. I wrote it when I was alone, so you have to read it when you’re alone.”

  She grabbed the paper and pulled it close to her heart.

  Maria suddenly grew shy and turned away for a moment. Without a father in her life, guys had always been a mystery to her. She once told Darrin that he painted a perfect picture of manhood in her eyes. He never let a day go by when she didn’t feel loved by him. The color of their skin had never been relevant to either of them.

  Darrin brushed her dark wavy hair with his fingers and stroked down to her neck.

  “I love your writing. You’re very good.”

  “Thank, you. You inspire me,” he said.

  She put her arms around him and hugged him with all her strength.

  Maria chuckled and shook her head. “Oh, what would I do without you?”

  Darrin smiled and laughed. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

  • • •

  Still unsure why he felt so anxious, Tanner walked with Kenny through the cafeteria, deep in thought. Kenny continued a conversation, unaware that Tanner’s mind was somewhere else.

  “So, in three weeks I go up north for cross-country camp. Boise State has a pretty grueling running program, so I’ll have to be ready and—” Kenny noticed the blank look on Tanner’s face. He punched him in the arm. “Tanner! You listening?”

  Startled, Tanner lifted his head and dropped his books. “Hey! What?”

  “Oh, forget it,” Kenny replied.

  Tanner bent over to pick up his textbooks and Kenny knelt down to help. He looked at Tanner and asked, “You still having those weird feelings?”

  Tanner stared intently at his friend and answered as his voice trembled. “Yeah.” His eyes shifted away and he repeated the words, “Yeah, they’re still there.”

  • • •

  Bryan Jacobs, Nick Tooley, his brother Randy and several others sat at a table only a few feet from Kenny and Tanner. Bryan watched the boys picking up Tanner’s books and thought, oh no, here we go again. Nick’s gonna do something stupid.

  As expected, Nick looked at Tanner and Kenny and shouted, “Hey! It’s the nerd squad!” He took a piece of chewing gum from his mouth, aimed, and threw it at Tanner. The gum landed in Tanner’s wavy hair, just left of center near his feathered bangs.

  Tanner grunted and awkwardly grabbed his blonde locks, feeling for the object, while balancing his books.

  “Eww! Gum? Who—?” He looked up.

  Nick slapped his hands together in victorious fashion. “Nailed him!” He started laughing and so did Alexis and Sydney, who were sitting across from Nick. They tried to cover their mouths when Tanner looked, but they couldn’t hide their enjoyment.

  Nick’s brother Randy sat next to him. He turned toward Nick and gave him a shove.

  Kenny glared at Nick. “Real funny, asshole!”

  “Yeah, real funny,” repeated Tanner, making an even bigger mess of the gum with his fingers.

  “Bet you feel like a real man now,” said Kenny. He stepped between Nick and Tanner, taking an offensive position.

  Tanner nudged Kenny and said, “Kenny, you don’t have to—”

  Bryan kept a close eye on Kenny. Don’t do it, he thought. Nick will tear you up.

  Just then, Nick started to stand up. “What’d you say, pencil-head?”

  Randy pulled Nick back down into his seat. “Quit it, Nick!”

  Nick shrugged his shoulder away from Randy’s grasp and sat down. He fixed angry eyes on Kenny. “And yeah, I feel a lot better.”

  Kenny glared at Nick, without a hope of victory, should a scuffle ensue.

  Now, that’s bravery, Bryan thought. I’ll give him that.

  Tanner timidly added, “You’re a jerk,” as he passed by fumbling with the gum in his hair. Nick smirked as both boys walked on.

  Bryan shook his head as he watched the reactions of his classmates. He turned to look at Kate from across the table and wondered what she saw in Nick. Kate buried her head in her hands, mumbling something derogatory about Nick.

  Bryan looked away and saw Lana and Noah watching from the other end of the table. Lana shouted, “Grow up, Nick!” Noah seemed equally perturbed. Nick ignored their words as well. They turned their eyes back to each other, and returned to their whispering.

  The drama stirred something inside Bryan. He looked back at Kate and said, “I can’t believe you put up with him.”

  Kate shook her head and said, “Yeah, well, all good things come to an end, right?”

  “Maybe that’s not such a bad idea in your case.”

  She closed her eyes, exposing the black rings and her exhaustion with Nick. She exhaled and replied, “Maybe.”

  Bryan smirked and continued, “So, what are your plans after graduation?”

  “ISU.” She covered her face with her hand, blocking Nick’s view.

  Bryan whispered, “Me too,” looking back and forth, matching her behavior and asked, “What’s your major?”

  Kate chuckled at his theatrics. “Art History.”

  “Hmm. That’s cool.”

  “How ‘bout you?” she asked, revealing her first bit of interest.

  “Pre-Med. I gotta get out of this town. I gotta live out my dreams, you know?”

  “You got dreams?”

  Bryan chuckled. “Pfft. Yeah.”

  “Me too.”

  Kate paused and her eyes drifted back toward Nick. “You know, he has his good points too. He’s not like that with me. He’s not like that when we’re alone.” Kate dropped her eyes and took a deep breath as they sat in silence, awkwardly looking at everything but each other.

  Something about Nick’s behavior reminded Bryan of David Ray and all the crap he’d put up with. Hmm. I haven’t seen David all day, he thought. He glanced across the table and saw Randy’s apparent displeasure with his brother and the cheerleaders’ enthrallment with Nick. He watched Tanner walk away with a wad of gum in his hair, digging at the messy glob. The laughter coming from the group made him feel sick, reminding him of David Ray, the little glitch in Crescent Fall’s social system. He looked around, curious of David’s whereabouts—and there he was, standing outside, behind the exterior glass door, holding a gun in each hand.

  • • •

  Breathing heavy from carrying the tote across the parking lot, David barged into the cafeteria, shot one round into the ceiling and shouted, “Attention everyone! Attention! My name’s David Ray, and some of you…are gonna die!”

  For a moment, the crowd sat quiet and still. David made a mental note of their blank faces. They probably think it’s a firecracker or a joke, he thought. I’ll show ‘em it isn’t a joke.

  Mr. Gardner strutted toward David, exuding his authority, but David pulled the trigger and shot a couple of the students nearby. Mr. Gardner threw his arms over his head, ducked down and crawled toward the wounded students to help.

  Da
vid squinted hard, looked into the crowd with dead eyes, and began shooting. Bodies scattered as the cafeteria erupted with screams, falling bullet shells, the squeaking of sliding sneakers and the turning over of chairs. He watched their scared bodies hide and tremble in fear and listened to their voices question who and why. Their fear gave him strength. It fed his adrenaline, pressing him deeper into the crowd. He knew exactly where to go. His tormentors’ locations were too predictable. The cliques always sat in the same places.

  David stepped forward and located his prey. He shot another round and heard another scream. He repeated the process, over and over.

  • • •

  The massacre lasted twelve minutes. David emptied the Glock and the Smith & Wesson cartridges before he finally shot himself in the head with the shotgun. The local police, paramedics and sheriff’s department stormed in just after David hit the floor. They found his body lying crumpled in a pool of blood, debris, shredded flesh and tiny pieces of bone. Then they rushed to help the wounded and assisted the frightened kids to safety. The forensic officer put on latex gloves and rolled David’s body over. He peered curiously at his chest, and then wiped the spray of blood and skin off the ziplock bag. He opened the bag and slid the paper out.

  The officer shouted to his colleagues. “Hey! I think I got somethin’ over here!” When the other officers had gathered, he read the manifesto.

  Dear Crescent Falls,

  Some of you know who I am. Many of you never knew me. Im the loser you laughed at somtimes. But after today David Ray will become a household name. After today everyone will know who I am. Many will call me crazy. Many will call me evil. Me Im not sure who or what I am. Maybe Im a monster. Maybe Im the Devil. Maybe Im exactly what you maid me. Maybe Im just a produck of the sistem. I dont know and I dont care! All I know is you hated me and I hate you back! So I did what I did cause this was the only way that I cood fix my world. And believe me my world needs fixed.

  Most of you walk around like everythings so easee. You get everything you want. You get close. You get cars. You play sports and get applauz. You get girls and you have real moms and dads. Well I got shit! And too many of you piled more shit on top of evrithing else. Some of you teased me and sent me home to a mom who slept with anyone in sight and let her men have their way with me too. Thats rite life aint always rosee for some of us!

  Some of us liv in hell and watch the rest of you liv a fanasy world. You aint got no clue what goes on behind closed doors. You aint got no idea whooz getting what on a regular basis. You aint got no idea whooz backs are bruised or getting it from their dad. You aint got no idea and you probably woodnt care if you did.

  If my life sucks cause the system then the systems broke. This world is broken and sucks! Screw this world and screw you! This is a wake up call and its just the beginning. I have to die but I aint goin alone. So take a look around and fix the system! I gotta fix my world and this is the only way.

  David Ray

  4th

  20 Years Later

  Maria Vasquez sipped a cup of cappuccino, while sitting in her office. She read a trade magazine and waited for her first appointment to arrive; just like the day before, and the day before that. She liked the routine. A structured life helped calm her nerves.

  Seven years earlier, Maria had founded the Apple Crisis Center in New York City. She lived above her office in an apartment she shared with her close friend, Connie. It was off Tenth Street in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen. As the founder and president of the center, Maria established Apple to meet the psychological needs of victims of traumatic experiences. She wanted to be where people seemed to suffer the most, hence the move to New York.

  The little bell tied to the entry door began to jingle. She peered through the small opening of her office door as her first appointment walked in. Maria put her magazine down and watched her receptionist greet the patient. The modestly dressed, fifty-something receptionist smiled and offered her usual kindhearted hospitality.

  “Good morning, Chad. Miss Vasquez will be right with you. Would you like some water or juice while you wait?”

  The twenty-four-year-old patient lifted his head and took off his sunglasses. He took a deep breath and reluctantly opened his mouth. With very little emotion, he managed to utter, “No thank you. I’m fine.” He then forced a false smile, put his glasses back on and sat down in one of the many black vinyl chairs.

  Maria grinned wryly and thought, there’s that emotional numbing I know so well.

  Although all of Maria’s clients had different circumstances and symptoms, their condition remained the same: post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). It was Chad’s second visit.

  Maria stood up and gripped the door handle. The door creaked open and she acknowledged Chad’s presence.

  “Good morning, Chad,” she said with a smile. “Come on in.”

  “Okay.”

  He stood up and walked into her office. Maria had decorated the room herself. It had a homey feel—mocha walls, white glossy trim and white oil-based floor paint, with a few oversized black and whites of Central Park on the walls.

  “Have a seat, please. And then you can let me know what’s been going on. Okay?”

  “Sure.”

  Maria directed him toward the sitting area.

  The receptionist glanced at Maria and wrinkled her eyes with concern. Maria interpreted her expression to mean: poor guy, I hope he makes it. She smiled back at the receptionist and closed the door.

  Maria made it her professional duty to unravel each of her patient’s sources of pain, and to discover the best method of recovery. Chad had previously told Maria that he witnessed the murder of a convenience store clerk. He said the gunman shot at him and missed, but the clerk ate a.38-caliber bullet.

  Chad sat down on a white leather love seat.

  Maria sat across from him on a matching lounge chair. She picked up her glasses from the mahogany end table and put them on. Then she crossed her legs and picked up a pad of paper and a mechanical pencil, ready to jot down her findings.

  “So really, Chad, how’ve you been?” Maria waited patiently for his reply.

  Chad seemed to avoid looking directly into her eyes.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” He sighed. “I’m having a hard time gettin’ out. You know, I don’t like to leave home so much anymore.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  “Uh…’cause I’m afraid.” His eyes squinted, communicating his irritation.

  “Does it bother you that I asked that question?”

  “No. It bothers me that I’m scared! It bothers me that I’m not the same person I was a few weeks ago.” He slouched in his chair.

  “Okay. What do you mean you’re not the same person?”

  “Well, before this happened, I was the life of the party. I was livin’ large and havin’ a good time. Now, I can’t even bring myself to go out at night. My friends call all the time, but…I’m afraid to just walk out the door. I’m afraid everyone I see has a gun. I’m afraid I’m going to die, like I missed my chance and it’s coming, whether I like it or not. I almost didn’t come today.”

  Chad lifted his chin, put his hands behind his head and looked at the ceiling. His eyes filled with tears.

  “Chad,” Maria said, looking at him with compassion. “You need to understand that there’s nothing wrong or unusual about how you’re feeling right now. You went through a very traumatic experience. And experiences like yours are hard to deal with and sometimes they change how you relate in daily living.” She jotted down a few notes. “But in time, your mind will acknowledge that life goes on and you’ll feel safer than you do now.” She lifted her head and returned her eyes back to Chad. “Unfortunately, no one can guarantee that you’ll be free from all of your symptoms. And I can’t make your fears disappear over night.”

  He threw himself forward, leaning in, hands gripping his knees. “Then why—am—I—here?”

  “You’re here because there’s hope for
you. And if you let me, I can help you learn to control any lingering symptoms. And, if you remember from our previous conversation, I can help you, because I’ve been there myself. I’ve had to learn how to live a normal life when I don’t feel normal, same as you. And when we find the right treatment, you’ll slowly start to feel more like yourself again.”

  At that moment, Maria remembered the look on David Ray’s face when he began shooting. His mouth had contorted with rage. His disheveled hair waved across his dead eyes. She wondered how he actually hit any of his targets with his hair draped over his face like that.

  Some of her memories remained extremely vivid, while others had faded over time. The memories still passed through her thoughts on a daily basis, sometimes minute by minute. They came and went, flowing in and out of her mind like a river. Fortunately, she’d learned to keep them brief. In the blink of an eye, she returned to Chad.

  “But you’re a counselor,” he said. “You’re not messed up!”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said you’re not messed up.”

  Maria watched his distrust change into embarrassment as he examined his thoughts.

  “Not a hundred percent true,” she said. “But you get the point.”

  He turned away.

  She picked up a blank notebook from a coffee table adjacent to her chair and handed it to him.

  “Okay,” she said, tapping her pencil against the notepad. “Here’s what I’d like for you to do. I’d like you to take this notebook and write down all of the things that you do now that you didn’t do before. Make a note of every emotion you have that doesn’t feel right. Write down all the things that scare you and when you’re afraid. Can you do that?”

  He turned back and said, “Yeah, I think so,” and nodded his head as he took the notebook from Maria.

  “Great. I think you’re going to be fine, Chad. It’s just going to take a little time.”

  After suffering the loss of eight of her classmates, including her beloved Darrin, Maria had learned to live with post-traumatic stress disorder. Twenty years later, however, she still suffered from mild anxiety attacks, emotional numbness, evocative memories and flashbacks. Fortunately, time, counseling and her education had contributed to her ability to live a manageable life. Yet her heart never forgot the treasured memories of her soul mate. Accordingly, she had framed her greatest possession—the letter Darrin wrote her the night before he was killed. She had kept it close all those years—a framed centerpiece on her desk. She read it at the end of every day to remind her why she kept going.