“It’s okay, Charlie. Try to relax,” Larry said.
“I was called for jury duty. First time I’d even heard of a jury. Anyway, I got selected for the trial of Gregory Watkins. Murder 1.”
“I remember him,” Frank said. “Colored guy. He got stuck a few years ago. For a while it seemed like he’d never leave the row.”
Alexander said, “Gregory Watkins. If I remember correctly, that psycho killed over twenty people, all women and children. He wrote on them, too. Carved messages on their backs. Judge Hall ruled on that one.”
“Hall? He’s a friend of yours?” Charlie asked.
“More like an acquaintance, but we get along.”
“If you ever see him again, you can thank him for screwing up my life.”
“What are you talking about, son?”
“First off, I’m not your son, or anyone else’s.” Charlie’s hands became fists.
“It’s just a manner of speech,” Alexander said, his hard edge softened by Charlie’s aggressive attitude.
“What Frank was saying about a judge’s influence is — Let’s just say that Hall practically forced us to give him the death penalty.”
“I doubt that.”
“You weren’t there.”
Larry jumped in and asked, “You don’t think he deserved the death penalty?”
“Absolutely not,” Charlie said.
“Then how was the vote unanimous?” Frank wondered.
“At the time, we all thought he was guilty. Back then I was still a kid. I believed everything they showed us in court. Now I know better.”
Frank’s furrowed brow showed he didn’t understand. “He killed those people. I talked to him about it. Said he had to. Wouldn’t even say he was sorry when the needle went in. He was one unremorseful son of a bitch.”
Alexander said he had read the same thing in the paper. “The guy was guilty. You feel worse about condemning an admitted murderer than you do about shooting a criminal in the street?”
Charlie looked confused. “I never once fired my weapon.”
Frank said, “What about all the lives you said you had to take? Are you trying to tell us you actually beat people to death? Did you use your baton?”
“You were kicked off the force for brutality?” Alexander guessed.
“I quit. I never brutalized anyone on the job! Never once,” he said, outraged at the suggestion.
“So you were lying?” Frank hoped.
Charlie jumped to his feet. “I don’t lie!” he yelled. “You all lie! Society lies! My parents lied! I don’t lie!”
Larry inched up from his chair. No one had ever reacted like this in therapy before. He was almost too scared to wish he had thought of videotaping the session. “Easy, Charlie. Take it easy and have a seat.”
“You sit down, Larry. Now!”
Larry flinched and slid back down into his chair. “This is my office.”
“Not anymore, Larry.”
“Stop saying my name like that.”
Charlie didn’t sit down but seemed to calm down a notch. “It’s about time you start being a professional. Why go by your first name? Are you supposed to be our goddamn friend?”
Frank stood, and in his best I’m-in-charge voice, he said, “That’s enough. Now sit down and relax or …”
Charlie glanced at him. “Or what?”
“Or you can leave. There’re three of us.”
“You’re threatening me?”
“No one is threatening anyone,” Larry said.
“A Napoleonic racist, a condescending prick judge …”
Alexander didn’t get off the couch. “Watch it, son.”
Charlie wheeled on the old man and slapped him so hard his glasses went flying off. “I’m no one’s son!”
Frank took a step toward Charlie, but stopped the moment Charlie turned toward him. Frank said, “You can’t do that. That’s assault.”
The judge fumbled for his glasses, now somewhere on the floor. Larry tried to calm the melee. “That’s enough. Everyone … Let’s just calm down.”
Charlie wasn’t having it. With one step, his chest was pressed against Frank’s nose. “I said sit down. Now.”
Frank stood his ground, but couldn’t control his trembling.
Charlie took a small step back, lulled Larry into thinking his rage had subsided. Then he threw a devastating elbow down and across Frank’s nose. The CO crumbled to the floor, curling up with both hands to his bloody face. Larry scrambled to his desk, but Charlie yelled at him before he could pick up the phone.
Charlie said, “Don’t do it, Larry. You don’t want to do that.”
Larry turned, saw Charlie kneeling over Frank. Charlie had a switchblade.
“Charlie, you need to listen to me. Look what you’re doing.”
Frank tried to rise up, but Charlie applied pressure to his neck. More blood leaked into the expanding pool. “I didn’t say you could get up.”
Larry said, “He needs a doctor.”
“You’re a doctor, and you’re not helping.”
“And you’re not a murderer; you’re just upset. Let me call for help.”
“No one’s calling anyone, Larry. None of us deserves to be saved.”
“He’s bleeding, Charlie. Look at him.”
“Yeah, the carpet will need to be replaced.” Charlie saw Larry’s hand. “If you pick up that phone, there will be a price.”
“What do you want, Charlie? What do you hope …”
Alexander yelled at him, “Don’t try to reason with this sick bastard.”
A huge smile spread across Charlie’s cheeks. “He’s right you know. I’m not reasonable.”
The judge slid his butt toward the edge of the couch. “We can fight him.”
Charlie laughed maniacally. He raised the blade, and Larry charged, lowered his shoulder and tackled him off of Frank. The two rolled into the wall. Charlie’s breath was warm against Larry’s neck. Larry pulled himself off of Charlie and saw his eyes, wild and filled with pain. Larry looked down, saw the knife shoved into his patient’s chest.
“Oh God,” Larry said, realizing what he’d done. Charlie’s lungs were filling with blood. He leaned into the knife.
“Hey, doc,” Charlie gasped, “now you’re one of us.”
Reunion
Derrick sensed the moment was right, leaned in for a kiss, hating himself as he did it. Beth wasn’t ugly. She didn’t stink, if you disregarded the cheap wine. But he had no desire to kiss her. He just needed her to stay. For that, he needed her to feel wanted. It was already after eleven and way too late to find a replacement.
Beth welcomed his advance. Derrick matched her intensity and pressed himself against her, as passionately as he could feign, tried to ignore her fat tongue jabbing in his mouth.
Finally, Derrick backed off from the kiss and grinned. “Wow. I wanted to do that all night. Sorry if it was too much.”
She ran her fingers through her bleached blonde hair, her cheeks flushed. “Are you kidding? That was perfect.” She tugged down her shirt to hide the little roll of her tummy. “Just like old times.”
Derrick looked around his mother’s outdated living room. He said, “Ten years. Feels like nothing’s changed.”
They were sitting on the same couch where he and Beth had had their first heavy petting session when they were juniors in high school. None of the old furniture had been upgraded, and none of the pieces had moved since he was a kid. The pictures on the mantle and walls were untouched. A lot of things had changed in ten years, but not this house. His mother seemed stuck in the past, refusing to change anything, especially Ronnie’s room. His brother’s room was precisely as it had been the day he disappeared. Nothing had been moved, not even the poster of a half-naked Cindy Crawford above the bed, the one their mother had said made the place look like some nasty frat house.
The most significant thing that had changed in this room was Beth, the girl Derrick needed to convince to stay the night
. She was a little heavier, but so was he. She was still bone-white, and her years of partying were peeking out from behind the layers of makeup. But she’d lost some of her shitty attitude, the insecurity. She had matured.
Beth cleared her throat, interrupting his thoughts. “This isn’t your first time back, is it?”
Derrick shook his head. “I come back once a year to house-sit when Mom visits her sister in Philly. I’d rather not do it, but she refuses to let a stranger stay here. She won’t go otherwise.”
“What about your dad?”
“He split a year after Ronnie.”
“You see him at all?”
Derrick shook his head. “The coward didn’t even leave a note.”
Beth rubbed his arm and said, “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he said. “It’s just not something we talk about. Mom wanted me to keep it quiet.”
“Wait a minute.” Beth pulled away a little. “You’ve been back every year and now, out of the blue, you decide to call me?”
If Derrick hadn’t been expecting the question, he might have answered honestly. He might have told her that she wasn’t his first choice, but all of his other old girlfriends were gone. He’d run through each one on nights just like this.
“It’s hard to explain.” He pretended to be embarrassed, took a quick swig of the wine he’d picked up at 7-11. “It’s just that with you, I was always afraid to call. I thought about you all the time, but I was so sure you would laugh at me and tell me to get a life. I know it sounds corny, but even though I never called you, I always had the dream of you sitting right here.” He ran his fingers over her thigh.
“Ohhh,” she said in her whiny little voice that still irritated the hell out of him. Another thing that hadn’t changed. “That’s so sweet. You shouldn’t have worried, though. I’m thrilled you called.” She slid up against him for a smothering hug. “I couldn’t wait to come over.”
He was grateful. It wasn’t like he could tell any of his old friends the real reason he wanted their company. If he told anyone why he needed them to stay, he knew they’d laugh. He was twenty-seven years old — way too old to be afraid of a house. Of a room. Of Ronnie’s room.
The thought sent shivers up his spine. Beth mistook the spasm for one of pleasure. “You like that, huh?” She ran her fingertips across the nape of his neck. “Thought I didn’t remember?”
Derrick had never liked it; in fact, he hated it, but he couldn’t tell her that. Even though she was dressed sort of sleazy, in a good way, this was by no means a sealed deal. Now was not the time to speak his mind. Instead, he snuggled closer.
“Just a sec,” Beth said as she turned to the oversize purse that had yet to leave her sight. She took out her phone and swiped it on.
“You expecting a call? I’m afraid the service in this house is terrible.”
“I’ve got one bar, but I was just checking the time. It’s almost eleven-thirty. Getting kind of late.”
Derrick’s heart almost stopped. His mind raced as he tried to think of a way to convince her to stay. He’d shed tears if he had to, but he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Maybe he had misjudged her. Maybe she had developed some morals over the last decade. Maybe she was still sore over the way he’d dumped her the week before prom.
Before Derrick could come up with anything to say, Beth said, “You wouldn’t mind if I took a quick shower, would you? I had a long day and came over right after work.”
“Of course not. Do you have somewhere to go?”
Beth slipped the phone into her purse and played with her hair. “I was hoping your bedroom, but if you don’t want me to I can go home.”
“No, no,” he said. “I just didn’t think you would …”
“We’re both adults, right? And I figured that’s why you called. It is, isn’t it?”
He hesitated briefly. “Yeah, I mean, sort of, but I guess I didn’t think you would really want to.”
“Are you kidding? That was the best thing about us. I mean, you were always kind of — don’t take this the wrong way — a little weird. But you were amazing in bed.”
“Oh … really?”
“Yeah. And I also know, even though you would never admit it to anyone, it must be real hard for you to be here. All those memories. Look, I don’t want to ruin the mood, but you never did find out what happened to your brother, did you?”
Derrick shook his head, wished the conversation hadn’t taken this turn. He finished his wine and set the empty glass on the coffee table. “Ronnie didn’t run away like people think. He just disappeared. There was no forced entry, but I know he never would have let anybody in the house.”
“You were home, huh?”
“We all were. We didn’t hear a thing. It was something … with that room.” As he said it, he wondered just how much he should be admitting to.
“You don’t believe that?”
“I do.”
Beth laughed, which made him feel small and angry. “He was a kid,” she said. “I remember he used to say there was something under his bed, but you never believed him. Please tell me you don’t know.”
Derrick forced a smile. “Of course not. It was a joke.” He pulled her in by the waist, his thumbs lightly pressing on her tummy, knowing it made her self-conscious. “We have to sleep in his room, and I guess I wanted to freak you out a little so you’d get that much closer.”
“Very funny.”
“No, seriously. It’s either in there or on this couch. Mom locks her room whenever she’s gone and mine was turned into a study nine years ago.” He told the lie easily, knowing his mother hadn’t changed anything in his room either. She never stepped foot in it.
“Really? I don’t know …”
Derrick leaned in and whispered, “I’ll protect you.”
Beth laughed, because his breath was tickling her. “Well, if you don’t have a problem being in there, then I definitely don’t.” She ran her finger down his chest. “We’ll need more room than this couch.”
“That settles it.” Derrick got up and filled Beth’s wine glass, told her to relax. “Just give me a minute to clean up. I’ll get the water nice and warm for you.”
Beth said, “You’re so sweet,” but it sounded fake, sort of like she was making fun of him.
Derrick didn’t care. He hurried to the hallway, was hit with the smell of the red roses that sat on the console table beside the door of his old room. There was a second vase on the bathroom counter, but there was another smell underneath the aroma of roses. Derrick turned on the shower and covered the room with orange-scented air freshener.
The bathtub was clean enough, but there was a filthy rag and toothbrush inside the wastebasket. Derrick tore off several streams of toilet paper and tossed them on top of it. The mirror was starting to steam up. He went back and told Beth the shower was ready, that he’d wait for her in the bedroom.
Beth grabbed her purse and disappeared down the hallway. Derrick refilled Beth’s wine glass, wondered how much she could drink. This was going to run a lot smoother than he had hoped.
Derrick turned off the lights. The bathroom door was closed, slivers of light outlining the frame. As a matter of habit, Derrick moved to his left and made sure his bedroom door was locked. He rearranged the roses and walked to the opposite end of the hall, snuck a quick glance into his mother’s room, just to make sure it was empty, locked it so he didn’t look like a liar. Derrick paused outside of Ronnie’s door, his hand frozen on the knob.
Derrick told himself to hurry up and get inside the room. What would Beth say if she came out of the bathroom and saw him standing here like a scared little boy? There was nothing in that room that would harm him. Sure, the memories hurt, but he’d slept in this room one night a year for ten years and he’d awakened just fine. Tonight would be no different.
He turned the knob and pushed open the door. The room was pitch-black. Derrick felt along the wall and flicked the switch. The overhead light didn’t co
me on. His mother had asked him to change the bulbs, not knowing all she needed to do was screw them in more tightly.
The dim light from the hallway barely penetrated the inky blackness. Derrick waited for his eyes to adjust. He saw the outline of Ronnie’s bed, the one his brother swore had a monster under it. No one ever believed Ronnie. His mother didn’t. Derrick didn’t. Then Ronnie was gone.
Derrick set Beth’s drink on the nightstand, mixed in a little powder from the plastic baggy to help her relax. He turned the table lamp to its lowest setting and looked around the room. Although his mother hadn’t changed a single object since the night Ronnie disappeared, she’d cleaned it every week. Ten years of vacuuming and dusting had left this room feeling like a movie set.
The lamp light reflected off the trophy-filled bookcase. Less than a year before he had vanished, Ronnie had led his baseball team to the state finals. Every player got a championship ring, which was the only thing missing from the room. The ring couldn’t have cost more than ten dollars to make, but it was priceless to Ronnie. Derrick smiled, remembering how Ronnie polished the fake ruby every morning. He refused to take it off, even in the bath.
Derrick felt tears forming, slapped himself to make them stop. He had to man up before Beth came back. He had to check under the bed for the monster.
Keeping an eye on the dust ruffle that skimmed the wooden floor, Derrick untied his shoes and slipped them off. The shower stopped and he walked over to the doorway, his feet sliding along the hardwood, barely making a sound.
Derrick called Beth’s name and she asked what he wanted.
“Your wine’s next to the bed. Make yourself comfortable. I’ve got to grab something from outside real quick.”
“Sure thing. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Before he chickened out, Derrick knelt down beside the bed and raised the dust ruffle. There was nothing underneath. Derrick rubbed his face against the inside of the ruffle and inhaled deeply, the mustiness taking him back all those years.
The bathroom door opened and Derrick slid under the bed, made sure his entire body was hidden. It was too dark to see anything, but he could feel he was directly lined up with the middle of the mattress.
Twisted Reunion Page 10