by Karen Reis
“Maybe you should go visit your family in Maine,” I suggested. “It sounds like you need a vacation. And maybe Dad needs to do without having a woman around who’ll automatically start picking up the pieces for him.”
Nancy didn’t say anything and I glanced over at Sean. He jerked his head in the direction of the truck. We should get out, he was telling me, and I agreed. Nancy was watching me though.
“Is someone out there?” she asked sharply.
I cringed mentally. I so didn’t want to do this now. “Yes. A friend of mine came out here to help me.”
Nancy turned a critical eye towards me. Aha, I thought, I can now become a target for her frustrations.
“Is this friend male?” she asked a little too casually.
“Yes,” I said shortly. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Yes,” Nancy said, equally short. “I have a problem with the fact that my daughter seems to be whoring herself out to every man she comes in contact with. Gay men included.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at her. “Gay men don’t sleep with women. They’re gay.”
“Yet you managed to be on the news again because of them. How lucky for me that everyone we know knows that you regularly hang out with homosexuals. Do you realize that your life is now threatened because you choose to be with those kinds of people?”
“Oh, so it’s my fault I’m being targeted by homophobic terrorists? That’s just beautiful,” I said, throwing my hands up into the air.
“Excuse me,” Sean broke in severely. I looked at him in surprise. I hadn’t expected him to speak up for me, and I also hadn’t seen him come inside. “You have no reason to speak to your daughter in that way. She is not a whore, and the fact that you see her life being endangered as her fault is despicable.”
I wanted to cheer. Sean made me so happy, but I kept my mouth shut and readied for Nancy’s explosion.
It didn’t come. Nancy ignored his words and instead looked him coolly up in down, her manner superior and mocking as she took in his tattooed arms and pierced ears. “And who are you?” she asked sharply.
“Sean Whalen. I’m dating Carrie.”
“Really,” she retorted. “How unsurprising, considering the fact that you look like you didn’t even finish high school. Do you by any chance have a prison record? Because that would just be icing on the cake.”
I faced Sean, turning my back on Nancy. “We can go now,” I said stiffly, embarrassed that Nancy would say such a thing to Sean’s face.
“Been tested for any STD’s lately, hmm?” Nancy continued.
At that, I swung back to face Nancy, my whole body filled, it seemed, with red hot anger. “Shut up or I will make you shut up!” I said to her, my voice sounding terrible and low. “Don’t you ever speak to him like that again!” I felt fiercely protective.
Nancy obeyed. Since I’d been a teenager, she’d known that I had the physical strength to beat her to a bloody pulp if she dared to lay a hand on me. At that moment I must have looked ready to kill her.
Knowing that I needed to keep control of myself, I took a calming breath and told Nancy in a more normal, but clipped voice, “I’ll be coming back tomorrow with Lindsay and Vanessa for the rest of their belongings. You won’t touch their things, right?”
Nancy glared at me but shook her head. “I won’t.”
“Good. I’m taking Pepper with me, too, considering what you did to Harvey.”
“Fine,” Nancy said, waving a hand in my direction carelessly. “I don’t care. None of this really matters anymore anyway.”
But it did. I thought so anyways as both Sean and I turned to leave that wretched house. It ought to matter when you see your family start to crumble before your very eyes.
Sean told me as he herded me into his truck and lifted Pepper in too, for he was old and couldn’t jump up high the way he used to, that Lindsay had already gone. He’d told her of the arrangement I had set up with Aunt Clarissa and said we would be following right behind her. I kept my face averted from him so that he wouldn’t see the tears in my eyes that I fought to keep from falling. I petted Pepper for comfort and he curled up in my lap, a shaggy gray mop that licked my hands and pressed his nose into my ribs. He could tell I was distressed.
“What’s your aunt’s address?” Sean asked me when he was behind the wheel and backing out of the drive.
I really didn’t want him to know that I was so angry and hurt that I was on the verge of sobbing, and I certainly didn’t want to break down in front of him again. It would be too embarrassing. So I swallowed and spoke carefully, trying to keep my voice from wobbling. I thought my voice came out pretty normal sounding as I directed him, “It’s on Bodega Bay Ct. Off Charleston and Durango.”
Apparently I didn’t fool him for a moment because at the first stoplight we came to, Sean reached across me, unbuckled my seatbelt and said, “Come here, Carrie.”
“I’m okay,” I said in a small voice, wishing that he would just leave me alone because when he spoke so tenderly like that it did nothing for my self-control. And yet, a part of me ached to be held right at that moment. But still, I was stubborn. “I’m really alright.”
“Maybe,” he said, though he didn’t sound like he believed me. “But I’m not made of stone, and I can’t sit over here and pretend that you’re not trying to not cry. So just come here before I drag you over here.”
What could I say to that? I slid over and buckled the center belt around my waist and let him put an arm around me and hold me close. Pepper took my seat next to the window, a situation that he was found very pleasing. My situation was pleasing as well; Sean was warm and strong, and I couldn’t help but relax against him, and as I relaxed, I couldn’t help but let a few tears slide silently down my face. I wiped the tears away quickly and tried to get myself under control.
After a few moments, when I felt able to speak once more, I said quietly, “I’m sorry about what Nancy said to you. She’s got a horrible temper and a worse mouth.”
He nodded and his arm tightened around my shoulders. “She said some pretty nasty things to you too.”
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” I said, brushing off his sympathy. “I’ve developed a pretty thick skin over the years.” It was a lie, especially in light of my tears, but I wanted Sean to think I was strong.
“I’m sorry you got dragged into our family crisis,” I continued. “But thank you for helping me. And thank you for standing up for me. I’m not used that. It was…nice.”
“Anytime,” he said in a low voice. He hugged me to him more tightly and I reached up and stroked the hand rested on my upper arm. I loved to touch him.
“So, you’re Dad just lets Nancy do and say the kinds of things she does, and he never says a word?”
“Never,” I replied.
“I’m sorry,” Sean whispered.
“Me too.” I whispered back.
Sean didn’t reply – I didn’t really expect him to. I wondered what he would say if I told him I thought I was falling in love with him. I wanted to tell him then, but my mouth refused to work. I kissed his hand instead, and he turned his head and kissed me on temple.
My Aunt Clarissa welcomed us inside her home where we found Lindsay on the phone with Vanessa, who was calling with an update on Harvey’s condition. It turned out that he had to stay overnight at the vet’s; he had two broken bones and a concussion. Vanessa, who under normal circumstances can cry at the drop of a hat, was unusually calm over the phone, and she told Lindsay that she would be on her way to Clarissa’s as soon as she finished signing some paperwork.
Clarissa had to have the story of what had happened at home from me since Lindsay’s version was rather stilted and incoherent, and Vanessa was not around. I filled her in on the debt and Nancy’s current emotional state. Clarissa asked me if Nancy seemed suicidal, and I replied, “Jesus, I don’t think so.” Then I thought about it, becoming alarmed. “I really don’t know. She said at the end that nothing matter
ed anymore, but I don’t think that she meant that she wanted to kill herself.”
The very thought of Nancy trying to hurt herself made me nauseous and light headed, and I sat down immediately. Thankfully Sean was outside hauling stuff inside with Lindsay’s help, so he didn’t see me. Clarissa told me that she’d call Nancy as soon as we were done here, then drive over and check things out. I could tell that what she really wanted to do was give her baby brother a piece of her mind.
My dad had gone completely AWOL, too. If he was at the office, he wasn’t picking up, and he’d turned off his cell phone. That made Clarissa more furious than she already was, but she hid it well from Lindsay, and Vanessa too, once she arrived. Both of my sisters were exhausted by the days’ events, and Clarissa shooed me out the door, but not before insisting that she keep Pepper, because she had a yard. Before she closed the door on us, she grabbed me up in a hug and whispered, “I like your young man, Carrie. He seems like a keeper.”
I smiled all the way back to the car.
“You made a good impression on Clarissa,” I said to Sean as we began driving home. “She thinks you’re a keeper.”
Sean glanced at me. “I’m glad,” he said quietly. “Do you think so?”
I swallowed and nodded. Did that mean that he loved me? My hands got clammy at the thought that he might really love me. I mean, who was I that he could realistically love me? I was no one. I wasn’t model, or successful, or creative or a genius. I was just…me.
Sean leaned across the truck to kiss me gently on the lips. He didn’t say anything more.
We were home in no time it seemed, and I stuck close to Sean as we made our way upstairs. It was dark and there were shadows everywhere. It was entirely possible for a psychotic homophobic stalker to be hiding in one of them.
“I got to get some stuff from my place. Do you want to come in?” I asked as I slid my key into my deadbolt.
“Sure,” Sean said.
He was quiet as we went inside and looked around my place. He’d not yet had a chance to get a good look at it. “It’s not much,” I said nervously. “I do what I can on a tight budget.”
He shook his head. “No. It’s nice.”
I went to get some clean clothes for tomorrow out of my dresser, and he followed me.
“You’re not very close to your family, are you?” he asked.
I didn’t have to think about it. “No,” I said, shaking my head.
“What if you had to give them all up? Could you walk away from your family?”
I looked at him like he was nuts. “What kind of question is that?”
“Just a hypothetical question,” Sean said cryptically, shoving his hands in his pockets. “If you had to give them up, if you weren’t allowed to see them ever again, would you be alright with that?”
I was sure that was the oddest question I’d ever been asked, but I did stop and think about it. “Sometimes I wish for it,” I joked. “Honestly, though, I don’t know. Where is this coming from anyways?”
Sean didn’t answer me. “What about Genny? Could you give her up? And Judy – all your friends. Could you walk away from them if you had to?”
I put my hands on my hips. “Sean, where is this coming from?”
“Could you?” Sean pressed.
I sighed and gave in. “It would be difficult. Alright?”
Sean nodded, thinking hard. I shook my head at him. What crazy questions.
“Can I use your bathroom?” Sean asked me suddenly.
“Sure,” I said, pointing to the door. “Break a leg.”
That elicited a laugh from him. What a weirdo, I thought as I absently went over to my front window and looked out it. What I saw outside made me stop laughing.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, jumping back and heading straight for the door. I yanked it open. “Hey!” I yelled, stepping outside and leaning over the railing. “Get away from my car, you little creeps!”
Two white boys, probably 16 or 17 years old, with shaggy hair and those horrible tight pants that were in style at the time, were standing next to my car with a funnel and a bag of sugar, poised for action. Sitting on the ground at their feet was a can of gasoline. Apparently they planned to wash the sugar down the tank with that. I couldn’t see their faces very well because of all their hair and the street light wasn’t strong enough, but they yelled, “Crap, she’s seen us!” They dropped the sugar and funnel and began to run.
I stepped back inside, grabbed my purse and bolted out the door just as Sean was coming out of the bathroom. He saw me go and I heard him say, “What are doing?” but I had no time to answer him as I raced down the stairs. A small part of my brain told me that what I was doing was reckless and probably dangerous, especially considering that the little felons had built a pipe bomb, probably from instructions off the Internet, but the other part of me, the part that was tired of being scared, the part that had no tolerance for bullies, didn’t want them to get away. I wanted the little terrorists in jail and I wanted to sleep in my own bed that very night.
I was on the ground in seconds and I followed them in the direction they had gone in, around my building to the east. I could hear Sean yelling at me – I could hear him coming after me, his feet pounding on the stairs, but I saw the criminals round another corner, and I ran faster, not wanting to lose them. Sean was still running after me, but he was no longer calling out that I should stop, for which I was grateful. I rounded another building – the boys seemed to be weaving in and around the buildings with no particular logic or plan guiding them – but just as I came around one last building, I managed to see the two boys enter an apartment, number 2176, a downstairs abode, and I thought, yes! I have an address! I halted, pulled my cell phone out of my purse, and hit speed dial number 6 for the police.
Sean finally caught up, grabbed me by the shoulders and whirled me around just as the operator picked up. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded to know, obviously extremely upset with me, but I ignored him and gave the operator my information. She assured that me that a police car would be sent right away, but that I shouldn’t engage the suspects. I assured her that I wouldn’t and she stayed on the line waiting with me for the cops to show up, just in case the boys came back out. The thought that they could have access to guns did cross my mind, and I stepped back into the protective shade of Sean.
He looked like he wanted to ring my neck. Thankfully, he said nothing, though I could tell he wanted to blow his top at me. His mouth was set in a thin, disapproving line but he watched apartment 2176 like a hunter waiting for its pray to come into sight.
The police arrived in a single patrol car a few very long minutes later. Two officers stepped out. I identified myself to them and told them my story in a very rushed, excited voice. One officer called for backup and then, after telling us to back away, they both walked up to apartment 2176 and knocked on the door. A tall, very well put together woman answered. She looked frazzled and annoyed to see the police, but after inspecting their badges, she let them in.
Sean and I stayed put, keeping watch. While the two officers were inside, another patrol car pulled up and two more officers emerged. There was suddenly a bunch of yelling from inside the apartment, and then one of the boys, having snuck out the sliding glass door, jumped the short patio wall and began to run.
“He’s getting away!” I stepping forward and shouting like the helpful citizen that I was, and the second set of officers raced after that boy while they spoke swiftly into their radios. Sean clamped a hand over my mouth and pulled me back beside him. I set my teeth on a finger in warning, not biting. Yet. He let go of my mouth, but kept a hand on one of my arms. Apparently he was afraid I’d try to take up the chase or draw, dangerously so, more attention to myself in some way.
The whole scene wrapped up very quickly after that. The running boy was caught and cuffed, and the second boy was escorted from the apartment, the tall woman following and looking pissed. Both boys were complaining loudly. The off
icers told them to shut up, but they didn’t, at least not until the woman, presumably the mother of one if not both boys, also told them to, calling them a very vile name in the process. The boys were shoved inside a patrol car and as it drove off, the woman followed them in her own car.
The remaining two officers came up to us and the older of them said to me, “Miss, you’ll have to come with us down to the station to give an official statement.”
I nodded while the officer told his partner, “Ted, you go down to this lady’s car with her and pick up those items they left behind. We’ll be able to get prints from them, and take any pictures of whatever damage might have been done.”
And that was that. Sean came with me to the station in my car, which luckily the punks hadn’t had time to kill, I gave my statement, and both boys who were 17 and 18 years old, were booked with criminal charges for harassment, destruction of private property, setting off a homemade bomb, vandalism and arson. We found out from overhearing the tall woman speak that only one of the boys was hers, (they knew each other from school apparently) but she had found out only yesterday that both were involved in some sort of online anti-gay organization, which was ironic – her words – because she thought her son was secretly gay. She hadn’t pressed the issue, not wanting to alienate him.
Apparently, despite the fact that his mother didn’t have a problem with his being attracted to other males, her son did, and chose to express his self-loathing through hatred and violence. The mother, a single parent, who was three years divorced from a very violent man, broke down in tears at that point. She was given over into the hands of a resident counselor and Sean and I heard no more.
We went home soon after that. At that point I was exhausted from the entire evening’s events and I kept yawning as I drove. Neither of us said a word to the other for the entire ride. I assumed Sean was still upset with me for running off after the little hooligans the way I did, and I didn’t entirely blame him. If I were in his shoes, I thought, I’d be upset too.