Young Squatters

by London, Blair

“Watch your language around Clara!”

  Really, Nick? A restraining order?”

  Clara was curled up on the same bed as Nora, hugging her favorite teddy bear close, burying her face and ears in it.

  “Well, if your son wasn’t so stupid about—” he began, stopping himself. Colin was his son, too.

  “My son? My son?!”

  Nick put his face in his hand. Dammit. He was losing everything. Those damn kids were dragging this out, the lawyer bills were mounting up, and then he’d lost his cool and started screaming threats at them during one of the depositions when he found out that his own son was supposedly behind the Craigslist posting and the PayPal account that the damn kids were hiding behind. They’d filed for a restraining order. Nick wasn’t allowed within a thousand yards of them. And Colin was still in jail on assault charges after confronting the boy on campus. Nick couldn’t afford to bail him out, not with what the lawsuit was costing them, and mentioning him now was exactly the wrong thing to say to Nora, who was already worried sick over him and this whole thing.

  Nora herself didn’t even look like the woman he knew. She had stopped wearing her carefully crafted makeup and even stopped dyeing her hair. Grey flooded from her scalp, mingling with the strands of blonde that still lingered. She wore sweatpants and t-shirts only now, unwilling or perhaps unable to muster the strength to dress up, except for when she went to work, every other day. Even her job had taken a hit with the current situation; her boss had seen the news and told her to take some time off to get her life together, though he had said it in a much more polite and socially acceptable way.

  “I can’t believe you let this happen! Two weeks you said? It’s been four months!” She threw up her hands, tears filling her eyes. “I can’t believe I married such a coward!” Her voice raised at that last part, louder than the music next door, and she picked up a lamp and threw it at him.

  It smashed against the wall adjacent to the party. Nick could hear one of the pot smokers say something like, “Whoa, man, what the fuck was that?” before he dodged aside and tripped over a chair, crashing to the floor. The small of his back filled with the hot heat of pain, reminiscent of the days when he used to have pain from doing his own yard work occasionally, like raking or mowing the lawn.

  This pain, though, this was unlike anything he had ever felt before.

  “Ah, my back!” he cried, clutching for his spine to make sure it was still there; he felt as if he had broken his tailbone, or something. His heart beat wildly in his chest. Maybe he actually was having a heart attack, this time. “Oh, God!”

  “Your back, my ass!” She kicked at him verbally while he was down, forcing a crying Clara to stand as she spoke to him. “You coward!”

  She was crying and screaming at the walls and the TV and the refrigerator and everything else about the place that drew her ire, dragging Clara and her teddy bear along with her. She threw anything that wasn’t nailed down. The coffee pot smashed against the wall. The coffee maker crashed into Nick’s ribs. The laundry iron knocked over another lamp. She took her suitcase from the closet and threw it on the bed, opened the drawers and piled her things inside.

  “Mommy! You’re hurting Daddy!” Clara cried, hugging her teddy bear, tears rolling down her face. “Please, Mommy! You’re scaring me!”

  “He’s fine, Clara,” she snapped, but she stopped throwing things at the sound of her daughter’s frightened voice. “Don’t you worry about him, for one second. He can hold his own,” she said, pointedly, watching Nick as he rolled over on his back, panting, staring at the ceiling as black dots filled his vision from his back.

  “I’m taking Clara and going to my sister’s right now, you damn bastard!” she said, twisting the metaphorical knife into his ribs. “Right damn now!”

  “Yeah, that’s right, go to Ben’s waiting arms. He’s such a manly man, too. I bet he can hold his own,” Nick said through gritted teeth, wondering if and when he was going to pass out from the pain.

  “How dare you!” she said, her voice horrified. “How dare you! I have been faithful to you for years, Nicholas. You remember that next time you want to say something horrible like that. Ben has been nothing but kind to us, to you.”

  “Yeah, because he hates Belinda,” Nick blurted. “He could love you, for all I know. Draw up the papers, Nora. I’m done with you.”

  He hadn’t meant that last part he said. But he could see the pain in her face as she picked up Clara and her bags, shoving some of their belongings into Clara’s arms as his daughter watched helplessly, too frightened to move.

  Nora tore off her wedding ring and threw it onto his chest. Then she and Clara were gone.

  “Nora! Wait! Please!”

  The door slammed shut behind them. There was pounding on the adjacent wall, as if telling him to keep it down. Nick gave up and started sobbing, his tears running into the piss-smelling carpet of the dingy little room, fingers clutching at the ring that had fallen onto his chest.

  “Nora!” he cried again.

  ***

  As Clara listened to her parents’ conversation, she was in tears.

  How had this happened? Throughout her childhood, her parents had been the best parents she could have ever hoped for.

  They appeared so in love with each other and were always happy, she’d never once seen them arguing. Yet over the past four months they’d done nothing but argue with each other. The thought of her going to live at her aunt’s house made her feel sick.

  To face staying at her aunt’s house was bad enough in itself, but having to go without Colin by her side was something else entirely. Now she was going to be without her dad too, and it was too much with her to cope with.

  “Come on Clara, pick up your feet and walk proud. There’s no need to slouch,” her mother said, grabbing her hand and holding it tight.

  When Nora saw the look on her daughter’s face she realized she’d been too harsh on her. With everything that had been going on recently, she hadn’t stopped to think what effect it was all having on her daughter. She stopped walking, feeling the gravity of the situation herself. She briefly wiggled the fingers of her left hand. She hadn’t been without her wedding band in ages; she’d lost weight throughout this entire process, but she’d still been surprised how easily it had come off.

  “I don’t want to go to live with Belinda and Ben and Isaac,” Clara said, “I want to go back to our own house with Daddy and Colin and you and Sarah and my friends, and be a family again like we used to be.”

  Nora took her daughter in her arms, hugging her tight as the girl’s shoulders shook with sobs, ignoring the sounds of the gross hotel and its inhabitants. She had to have felt so lost; Nora herself felt lost, and she was supposed to be the adult in the situation.

  As Clara sat sobbing in her mother’s arms, Nora’s heart melted. She tried hard to find words of comfort for her daughter, but nothing came out of her mouth.

  “We’ll figure everything out,” Nora whispered, to Clara and to herself. “I promise you, we’ll figure everything out.”

  A few minutes later, they walked out the front door, all thoughts of Nick gone from their minds.

  ***

  Colin was pacing in his police cell at the station.

  “When I get out of here, he’s a dead man.”

  Colin had been texting his friend for the past couple of days making plans of how to get back at his former so-called friend, Bradford. He couldn’t wait to get out and extract revenge on him; there was no way he was going to let him get away with what he’d done, no way at all.

  When his mom had visited him to say Clara and she were going to live with her sister and his dad wouldn’t be joining them, he was shocked. Mom hadn’t looked sad, or anything. Even though he had always known that she and Dad had fought, he had never thought it would come to this. He couldn’t believe his parents were splitting up and his family had lost everything his dad had worked so hard to get.

  He felt angry he wasn’t there
for his sister whom he knew would be struggling on her own, dealing with the situation of their parents splitting up. He turned his mobile off and hid it in the usual place, and went outside to have his lunch.

  ***

  When the women approached, Harper knew the situation wasn’t going to be good. She steeled herself for confrontation.

  “We just want you to know that we think it’s horrible what you’re doing to those nice people who lived here,” one of the women said to her. “We don’t want your kind in this neighborhood.”

  Harper was down on her knees in the mulch, looking up at three women in polo shirts and crisply-pressed slacks. The woman who had spoken had curly ringlets of blonde hair covered by a sun hat. She had her hands on her hips, tapping a lacquered fingernail on her side.

  Harper had been gardening in the yard. Now that the Donnellys had moved out (been forced out really, by the restraining order against Nick), Harper and Bradford had taken up the yard work. It was important for them to occupy the house openly, for everyone to see; that’s what Bradford and their lawyer had said. Bradford had been using Nick’s riding mower, riding it around the yard half-heartedly. They couldn’t really afford to have the landscaping company keep up with things. Bradford didn’t really want to do the yard work, he didn’t like it and he was hardly around enough to do any of it anyway, but Harper kind of enjoyed the gardening.

  She liked putting things in rows, piling up the seeds and picking out what she would be planting. The simplicity of nature was something she had never really experienced, living with her mom. It helped her loneliness, too, since Bradford was constantly gone, going to school or doing who knows what else to get them more money. Sometimes when he was gone she’d feel a panic attack coming on, her breathing quickening and her hands growing sweaty at the thought of being home alone, but gardening helped with that, too.

  It was simply another gift that Bradford had given her.

  Until now. These three bitches had come marching up the driveway like they were on a mission. Harper felt fear slice through her, even though she knew they wouldn’t dare do anything to her in her own yard. Typical of them, though, to wait until Bradford wasn’t home.

  Cowards. That’s what Bradford would have called them.

  Harper squinted at them. They were standing with the morning sun behind them, glaring into her eyes. “It’s not our fault. We had an agreement—”

  “We all know you’re lying, you little slut,” another woman butted in. The one with the blonde ringlets nodded at her, as if encouraging this mockery.

  “Why don’t you and that little shit boyfriend of yours just learn when you’re not wanted?” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Okay, can you get off my property, please?” she asked, her voice shaking a little.

  “It’s not your property,” the blonde said to her, backed by her two compatriots in their brand name clothing and perfectly-permed hair.

  Harper wondered if they had rehearsed this, before coming over to torment her for no reason.

  “Make us, you little bitch.”

  She was more than a little scared now. What if they tried something? What if they got one of their husbands or sons to try something? She was alone here today, and Bradford was at class and wouldn’t be home until later, much later, probably not until dark. It had been more than a month since the Donnellys had moved out, but no one in the neighborhood wanted anything to do with them, and now they were resorting to physical violence? They had crept closer, making her drop her spade. She thought later that had been a stupid move; she could have used the spade as a weapon, if she needed to defend herself.

  “Look, I’ll call the police.” She held up her phone for them to see.

  Not one of the three of them looked impressed.

  She scooted away from them as their shadows fell over her, driving out the sunlight on this beautiful day.

  Some teenage boys had been standing at the end of the driveway shouting curses and insults the other night, probably that little slut Clara’s friends from high school. They’d egged the house, and someone had thrown a rock through a window. Bradford had cursed them out and ran them off, and she’d been comforted to know that he could defend their home. She’d still been scared half to death. What if they tried something like that when she was home alone, like now? So she’d put nine-one-one on speed-dial.

  “Go ahead. We’re not afraid of you, bitch,” the blonde said, a smile playing on her very red lips. “The police know what you’re up to by now, you whore. They’re not going to arrest us. Why don’t you and your boyfriend just pack up and get out of here? You sure as hell better run, bitch, because this neighborhood doesn’t take kindly to liars, especially young girls like you, who lie about their age.”

  Harper got up on her feet, and they kept calling her names and hurling the vilest insults at her, following her as she dialed the police and retreated into the house. They tried to push the door open and follow her in.

  “Stop it! Let go! I’m calling the police! The police are coming!” she yelled, tears growing in her eyes.

  She had never realized that people, even the people who were supposed to be the most refined citizens, could be so cruel.

  “Hello, nine-one-one dispatcher, what’s your emergency?”

  Harper put the phone on speaker as she shoved at the door. “You hear that? The police are coming! Help me! I’m being attacked!” Pangs of sharp pain filled her chest, and it felt like someone had tightened a noose around her throat, pulling it tight. “Oh my God! Help me! Help me!”

  SLAM!

  The women stopped pushing back against the door and Harper’s weight fell against it as it crashed abruptly shut.

  “Stupid girl, open this door. Admit to your wrong doings!” one of the women cried to her, the words ringing in her panicking ears.

  Behind the door, she could still hear the women shouting epithets at her and beating at the door.

  “Ma’am? Ma’am, what was that noise? Are you alright, ma’am? I have your address here, I’m sending a squad car out to you. Ma’am, are you alright? Do you need medical assistance? Please speak to me, ma’am.”

  Harper slid to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably, her back up against the door. Every time the women banged on it her head hit the wood, over and over again.

  “I think—! I think—! Oh God, my chest! I can’t—! Breathe—! I can’t breathe—!” A chilling thought entered her mind. Oh my God! Heart attack! I’m having a heart attack!

  Suddenly, everything went quiet.

  ***

  “Easy, babe. There you go.” Bradford helped her into their bed. They’d moved into the master bedroom shortly after the Donnellys had been forced to move out, Bradford having found a way to get past the locked door.

  Harper felt dizzy and sick to her stomach. The doctor at the emergency room had given her something called clonazepam to help her settle down. As it turned out, she hadn’t had a heart attack. She’d had a panic attack. But she’d spent most of the day in the hospital waiting for Bradford to come pick her up after the tests for everything else came back negative. Now it was almost five o’clock.

  “I still don’t understand where you were all day. I called you like a dozen times.”

  He smoothed her hair back from her face, kissed her on the forehead, and pulled the blankets up over her. “It’s okay, babe. You know I had to go down to the unemployment office and take care of that paperwork today.”

  She shook her head. She felt very sleepy. “No, I didn’t know that. Why is your unemployment paperwork more important than me being in the hospital? Why can’t you just get a job like a normal person?” she cried, tired, broken. He’d been gone so much he had no clue what she had had to deal with in this neighborhood. This latest incident had simply been the last--and worst--of many events.

  “Come on, babe, don’t be like that. You know jobs are for suckers,” Bradford said, tucking her in. She frowned at him as he continued. “My dad h
asn’t had a job in like ten years and he just bought a new Lexus. There’s plenty of money out there if you just know where to look. You just gotta make the most of the opportunities, right? That’s what I was doing, making the most of an opportunity.”

  “But I was having a heart attack,” she said, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. She had never liked hospitals, not ever, and today she had been in one all by herself for hours. He didn’t have any idea how that made her feel.

  “You weren’t having a heart attack, baby. Just a panic attack. You’re going to be fine, you just need to get some rest.”

  Harper shook her head, but the room swam around her. “You don’t know what those bitches said to me. I was so scared, Bradford. And what if it was those boys again, the ones who threw the rock through the window? What if I had been here all by myself that time? What if they had done something to me?”

  A couple of loose tears floated down her cheek, mingling with her dirty hair. She felt too tired to wipe them away.

  “I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry. I’m here now. Everything’s gonna be alright.” He sat at the edge of the bed and stroked her hair. She couldn’t see his expression, as everything was turning blurry.

  “When’s this all gonna be over?” she mumbled. Her eyelids felt so… heavy…

  “Soon, baby. They can’t keep it up forever. We just gotta hang tough. All this’ll blow over, I promise.” He kissed her gently on the head.

  “I just want it to be over, Bradford.” She looked up at him with wet eyes. “Maybe I should call my mom?”

  “No, baby, don’t talk like that. I’ll take care of you. Didn’t I tell you I’d take care of you? No, shhh, be quiet now, get some rest.” He put his finger to her lips as she tried to protest again. Her eyes closed. Before long, she was sleeping.

  Bradford shook her a few times. When he was sure she was well and truly sleeping, he turned out the light and closed the door to the room behind him. He dialed a number on his phone.