Aaron sat down. After telling her how much they’d done for her and her students, he’d not been able to change her mind. He could see it by the look on her face.
“Are you finished now? Am I allowed to speak?” She stood up, her face tighter than before, her hatred there for everyone in the room with them to see. “I am so happy that you told me what you gave the school. I won’t use them. The money that I have used for the room, I’ll repay you for it. You’re not welcome in my world, so you won’t be in it, and that child that you’re raising to be just like you won’t be either. What if, God forbid, he grows up to be just like all of you? You sicken me. I won’t use anything that you’ve touched and tainted with your unholiness.”
“You’re right about that, Ms. Adams.” The superintendent stood up then, and Ms. Adams started falling all over herself to be next to him. “I think, in the words of Aaron here, I’d like for you to sit down and shut up.”
The words were softly said. The tone was normal. But it was no less demanding than when Aaron had said it. And when Ms. Adams sat down, Aaron could see fear replacing her confidence. Mr. Black leaned to Mrs. Hersey and whispered in her ear. When she got up to leave, the room seemed to have tightened up with the tension.
“Ms. Adams, you’re fired. And before you say another word, I want you to know that I had another background check of you come across my desk not long ago. For whatever reason, we took your word with the one you handed us when you were hired. Thanks to you, we’ll be doing a much better job from now on.” He handed the single sheet to Aaron. “You’d be amazed at the things you can find out if you know just where to look. This is the fourth school that you’ve been fired from in the last year. And in those firings, you were also arrested for causing a riot in your room. Bullying four of your students, as well as burning a chair that one of the students that you had in your room sat in. I’m assuming that you thought his parents were deviants as well.”
“You cannot be taking their side in all this. I’m a normal human, and they’re...well, they’re monsters.” Mr. Black said that the only monster in the room was her. Cattie came in the room behind Ms. Adams but said nothing. And neither did the rest of the room. “I have the right to not have children in my room that are disruptive and rude to me. And the very idea of him being in the same room with other, normal people makes me ill.”
“You do have that right, at that. But since I also have rights, the right to terminate your services, that won’t be a problem for you, now will it?” Other officers came in the room, each of them in assault gear, all of them holding rifles. “Your things are being packed up now. Your class is going to be taken over by another teacher, and you will be escorted out of here.”
Before anyone could guess what the police and armed guards were there for, Ms. Adams jumped from her seat and pulled out a gun. But before she could fire it on anyone but the ceiling, she was taken to the table and her gun tossed across the room. Christ, Aaron hadn’t thought that guns were allowed on the school grounds, much less in the classroom. Then something else occurred to him, and he had to sit down.
“You all right?” Aaron nodded, and had to put his head down between his legs. Brody asked him again, this time laughing a little. “Are you really all right?”
“She could have killed Jordan.” Brody said that he’d thought of that too when Cattie called him. “She knew what Ms. Adams was going to do? Did she tell you to come here in case someone was hurt?”
“Yes, to both questions. I was finishing up anyway, and decided that I’d come home when I got a call from Cattie. As you can well imagine, I was scared out of my boxers too.” Aaron sat up. “You gave a good speech. And I think you impressed the rest of them too. Not that I think it did her a bit of good, but it was a good one. And Mr. Black, he hadn’t realized that we’d done so much for this district.”
“I hadn’t meant to do that for him to know. I wanted her to know what she was going to be giving up if she decided to pursue this about Jordan.” They watched as she was dragged out of the room, screaming about perverts the entire time. “I’ve seen people like her everywhere I’ve been.”
“I have as well. It’s sad that people don’t just mind their own business.” Aaron said that he thought that people would get along better if there were less homophobic people in the world. “I have to agree with you there too, I’m afraid. How about we just go home? Jordan is going to meet us there. He and Cam were going to have some lunch. He said he needed to talk to him anyway.”
“What do you suppose about?” Brody said that he didn’t care so long as he was home soon, and that he got to go home and take a nap. “Yes, I forgot that you left the house before dawn this morning. Everything turn out all right?”
“Yes, thankfully. The mother had a seven-pound little girl, and both are doing fine.” They walked to Aaron’s car, as Brody had walked to the school. “We’re going to have to get us a better car for winter. I’d forgotten how much the weather can change on a dime around here.”
They talked about the weather. Yesterday it had been nearly seventy out. Today the high was only going to be forty. Ohio weather was as ever-changing as a mood, Aaron told Brody. Today cold, tomorrow who knew what the weather was going to hold for the state.
When they were home finally, they did just what they said they would and sat out on the deck until the sun going down necessitated them going in for warmer weather. Then, they both sat in their recliners and took a long, much needed nap.
~*~
Jordan had sixty dollars to spend, and he thought that it was important that his dads knew that he loved them both. Today, they’d not asked him to back down or to run away. His friend from the pack told him that his parents were very brave to stand up against humans about their friendship and love, because humans, to him, were very rude. Not only that, but they weren’t as accepting as shifters were. He wasn’t sure what all that meant, not really, but he knew that he loved them. And Cam was going to help him out.
“You think anything here is going to make it, buddy?” Jordan shook his head. “If you ask me, I think you’re going about this all wrong. If I were your parents, I’d want you to just be glad that they have you.”
“You’re weird, Uncle Cam.” They were both laughing when they started by the Christmas stuff. “I think that I should do what Uncle Rick said to do—get them a steak and let them cook out.”
“That is what I’d want.” Jordan eyed his uncle. “I told you before we left that I was starving, that I needed food. You said we’d find pretzels. Where are my pretzels, little man?”
Leaving the store for the mall, they talked about what his parents liked. And while Uncle Cam was driving, he said that his sister had said for Jordan to get them matching aprons, with their names on them.
“They’d like that. They’re always spilling something on their shirts when they cook out.” Jordan was warming to the idea. “And if I get one for Dad Brody that’s for cooking out, and one for Dad Aaron that has a cake on it, they’d know which one was theirs. What do you think?”
It only took them about an hour to get the aprons made with their names on them. He thought that Dad Brody and Dad Aaron was perfect too. Jordan was even able to get them giftwrapped, and Uncle Cam got his pretzel. Cam said that he hoped someday that he and Rick had a kid that was nothing like Jordan, and Jordan laughed. He was teasing him, he knew—Jordan loved his uncles and aunts. On the way home, they stopped for cake and ice cream to go with dinner.
Jordan was excited, too, that he’d get to start new with a new school teacher. His mom was gone, and he had good parents. He did think about his mom; a great deal, as a matter of fact. And it made Jordan upset that he wasn’t hurt that she had died. That she was gone forever.
She’d not been there for him, not even when he was sick or didn’t feel good. They’d never done any of the things that she would promise him. He’d wanted to go to the movies
with just her, like his friend Jason did. But she was too busy getting her hair or nails done. Jordan didn’t tell anyone, but he’d not loved his mom for a long time. He’d not even liked her most of the time. And that made Jordan feel like he was missing something.
“Can I talk to you, Uncle Cam?” He told him that he could talk to him anytime. “I wanna talk to you about my mom.”
He told him everything, things that he’d forgotten about until just then. About when Ralph had come to the house and she’d make Jordan stay in the kitchen. How Ralph had hurt him sometimes. Cam asked him questions too, and Jordan felt like he was really listening to him—just like his dads did.
“And when Ralph was hurting you, did he touch you in places that he shouldn’t have.” Jordan knew what he was asking, and told him no, never that. “Good. And you think you feel like you’re missing something. Are you missing anything, Jordan? Didn’t you give your mom every opportunity to have fun with you? Did you tell her that you wanted to do things?”
“Yes, all the time. But she didn’t want me around. And I feel like I should be crying or something because she died.” He asked him why he should do either of those things. “Because she was my mom and she died. When my dog was killed, I cried a lot.”
“Jordan, you feel just like you want to feel, and no one around you is going to make you feel any different. You were hurt by her and Ralph. You are, even though I think you’re the smartest five-year-old I know, only just a kid. She should have taken better care with her words, her love, and with you. But she didn’t. And for that, she lost out.”
Uncle Cam told him that today had marked a good starting point for him. The teacher coming from another district was already excited to teach all her students equally, and Uncle Cam said that she was a nice person as well as an accepting one. Jordan was going to do just what his uncle told him to do—wipe his mind clean of all the bad stuff, but learn from it and have a good life. He deserved it.
Chapter 12
This was the third day of the trial, and Fred was thinking that he’d be out of here by the end of today, tomorrow at the latest. He’d not counted on so many of the women coming forward after what he’d done to them, and that had bothered him a bit. But since not one of them had seen him, nor did they really understand what had happened to them, he was just sitting in his chair enjoying the prosecutor making a fool of himself. A couple of times the idiot had asked him if he wanted to ask anything of the women.
“Ask them what, pray tell? I don’t have any idea what you might be talking about with this parade of beautiful women. No, I have nothing to ask of them. Unless, of course, they’d like to have dinner with me some night.” The room snickered, he thought. It couldn’t have been them mumbling about how he was sick. No, that just wouldn’t be something they’d do.
Fred wasn’t a sick person. He was doing this because it was fun—and harmless. Oh yeah, he’d have a little sport in knocking them around. But he didn’t think that was his fault. Not entirely. They should be more diligent, safe and aware in their surroundings. Then he thought of the woman—the last one, Emmi. He’d been caught with her. And he’d been wondering for the last three days why she’d not been brought to the front like the others had.
Fred sat up straighter in his chair when a woman that he didn’t know came to be sworn in. Once she was seated, he listened to the attorney for Emmi question the woman.
“She’s been missing for a few months now. It was as if nothing had been taken from her room, and her car is missing along with her purse.” He wondered who she might have been, this missing person. Fred was wondering if they were trying to pin unsolved murders on him that he’d had nothing to do with when she spoke again. “For a few days leading up to her disappearance, she was complaining of falling in her sleep. How her body was being abused, and that she had no any idea what was going on. Then one night, I was going to stay with her but I got the flu. That was the last time that I saw her.”
“And did you search for her?”
If the girl answered him, Fred was no longer paying attention. He was thinking of the reasons. Of course she had looked for her friend, thought Fred, and he’d almost taken care of her too. Not as he had the girl. He didn’t remember her, of course, or the dead woman. Because if she disappeared, then she’d touched him in some way. And if there was touching, then she was as good as dead.
Drifting mentally to his list, Fred thought about all the things he was going to have to do once he was set free. The first thing would have to be to take care of the cars and all the credit cards he’d accumulated. Then there was his stash. He’d have to pick it up. Not that he thought they’d ever be able to find it. He had a feeling that they’d not be able to find their way out of a wet paper bag without written instructions. Then there was the—
“Mr. Simmons, are you listening to me?” He looked around and saw that the entire courtroom was staring at him. Embarrassed to be caught unawares, he asked the man what it is he’d missed. “You’re being called to testify on your own behalf.”
He was? No one had told him this might come up. Then of course, he’d fired his attorney yesterday when all he was doing was doodling on his notepad and not saying a word. When he stood up, his legs shackled to the floor, an officer came to unhook him and then helped him to the big chair. After that, Fred was sworn in to tell the truth and blah blah blah.
Sitting down, he tried to look as beaten as he could. Fred knew that they’d looked up his medical record, and thought that had made them a little ill. Funny, he thought, all it had done for him when he’d seen himself was make him angry enough to seek revenge. And he had. But that had been another time and another Fred. This Fred liked to have fun, not kill unless necessary.
“Mr. Simmons, can you tell us why you were in the apartment of one Sarah Ross?” He didn’t know her last name, or thought that he’d remembered it being something else, but he only stared at the man. Cameron Henderson wasn’t getting crap out of him. “If you need a reminder, I’m sure that I can find the video that was taken that day. The one where you broke into the house and tied the young woman down after stripping her of her clothing. Does that ring a bell?”
“Can’t say that it does. I think you might have the wrong man.” Fred just stared at him then. He had this in the bag. “I just don’t know what you’re talking about, young man.”
Playing stupid was his strong suit. He could play the smart man too when it was necessary. But today, he thought that he’d have better luck—
“I see. Then perhaps you can tell us about the property that is out in Ashland County. We found the records where your uncle on your mother’s side is the owner. There are a great many cars there. What can you tell me about them?” He was slightly panicky, and he knew that a panicky man was a caught man. “Sir? If that is too much for you, perhaps you can tell me about the saw equipment out there, as well as the kiln that has been used recently.”
Fred tried to think if he’d ever told a soul about that place. Even had someone meet him there, or even anyone follow him there. No, not anyone. Fred looked at the man, trying his best to think what else he might know.
I know a great deal about you, Fred. Most of it is going to be shown here in the court room today. Fred looked around—the man’s voice was in his head. Looking at the judge, he asked him if he’d heard him, just to make sure.
“He asked you about the property in Ashland County, and the kiln and working equipment that was there. Are you going to answer him?”
Was he? No. Neither the voice in his head nor the one that everyone heard.
Fred, are you afraid? You should be. I found your little stash. Very clever of you to put it upon your mother’s grave. Right under the flower pot that sticks in the ground. Pubic hair. And guess what, it’s covered in your prints.
Fred was terrified of the voice. Looking around, he wondered what he could do, where he could go, when the v
oice spoke again.
You killed your own mother? How very terrible of—
“Your Honor, I think something is wrong.” The man asked him what it could be, and reminded him once again that he’d not answered the questions. “Because he knows. There is a voice in my head that says everything. Where my stash is and everything.”
“What stash are you talking about?” He had to think. Did the man say he had them, or did he only say he knew where they were? “Mr. Simmons, you have been found competent to stand trial. What are you doing now?”
“I don’t know.”
He looked around over and over, trying to find a device that would be able to put out words when there wasn’t anyone speaking. Fred bent his head down as far as he could, searching for something in his ears or around his head. Nothing. There wasn’t any reason whatsoever that he was having this happen to him.
“I’d like to have a recess. I need a break for a moment. Something isn’t right.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Mr. Simmons. Mr. Henderson is asking you questions, and we’re awaiting answers from you. Come now, answer the questions and we can call it a day, if you’re still unsure of yourself.” That sounded like a good plan. “Now, what were you talking about with a stash of some sort?”
Do you think that you’re imagining this? You’re not. I’m really in your head, and I’m finding all sorts of evil deeds done by you. And the women? Well, you do that because you’re unable to perform any other way. He shouted at the man to shut up, but the judge and the attorney just stared at him. Does it bother you when women look at your shriveled up dick and laugh? I bet they do that a great deal. Is that why you don’t allow them to touch you? You said that it’s because of DNA, but I know what it really is. You hurt badly when your shriveled dick gets—
“Yes, that’s why I break into their homes! Damn it, leave me alone!” Fred rubbed his face and apologized. “I’m having a rough time. Could I have the questions repeated to me?”
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