by Beth Flynn
Okay, no big deal—they would simply walk past her, Mavis determined. Grunt knew not to make eye contact. Ginny was so involved in her discussion that Mavis doubted she would even see Grunt. As they got closer they could hear her talking.
“Mrs. Davis, I just think someone really does need to do something. The little pool pens they’re kept in are not good for them. God made porpoises to swim in the ocean. I just don’t think He would like what’s going on here.”
Mavis smiled to herself. That was Ginny. Championing the little guy. Before anyone realized what was happening, a hand had reached out and swiped the girl’s hat right off of her head. A voice could be heard above the chattering of the other students. Curtis Armstrong.
“Yeah, Gwinny or Ginny or whatever your name is now, and God made your hippie-whore mother to suck wieners all day long.”
Instinct told Mavis to grab Grunt. He may have seemed a little naïve, like when he didn’t know that Bartholomew wasn’t the coolest name he could’ve made up. But he was tough. He had been living at the motel for over a year. If that wasn’t going to make a man out of him, nothing would. She knew he’d want to pounce on Curtis without hesitation.
She was right.
She gripped him tightly and could feel the muscles in his upper arm tightening. “Ignore it,” she whispered. “Let the teachers take care of it. You have to ignore it.”
Before Curtis could run off with the hat, another teacher, Mr. Rayburn, grabbed Curtis by the scruff of his neck and yanked Ginny’s hat from his hand. He handed it back to her and told Mrs. Davis, “I’ll handle this.”
He roughly shoved Curtis toward Ginny and told him, “Apologize. Apologize now, son, or you will spend the rest of this trip on the bus with me. I’ll sit there with you the entire time.”
“Sorry,” Curtis sneered.
It was clear he didn’t mean it. It was just a way to get out of being stuck on a hot bus with Mr. Rayburn.
“And you will spend one hour every day after school for two weeks cleaning blackboards and emptying garbage cans,” Mr. Rayburn added. “Now get back to your group.”
Grunt wouldn’t let himself look at her. He knew if she looked hurt, he would lose it. The group was heading toward another exhibit now, and then there would be a lunch break.
“Mavis, I need to use the bathroom, Grunt said quickly. “I can meet you at the seal tank.”
Mavis looked around and spotted Curtis. He was on the opposite side of where she knew the bathrooms were. Grunt was watching her and knew what she was thinking.
“Really, Mavis.” He gave her a look. “I just need to go to the bathroom.”
She nodded. “Okay, use the bathroom and then come straight over to meet up with me.”
Grunt made his way through the crowd and went into the restroom. Surprisingly enough, it was empty. He walked over to one of the sinks and splashed cold water on his face. What had Ginny ever done to that Curtis Armstrong to make him hate her so much? He didn’t know when or how, but he knew that one day he would make Curtis pay. He went over to the paper towel dispenser and dried his face. He then entered a stall. He was just about to flush the toilet when he heard them.
“Wow, Curtis. Two weeks staying after school. Maybe you should just leave Ginny alone.”
“Yeah, Curtis. Why do you hate her so much anyway? I ain’t ever seen her do anything to you. Except the lemonade thing, but that was only because you dumped dirt in it.”
There was a round of laughter.
“I’m gonna get that little bitch,” Curtis snarled.
Grunt stayed where he was. The rest of the conversation was hard to hear over the sound of urine streams and flushing toilets. Grunt peeked through the crack of his stall. Curtis’s two friends had finished their business and left the bathroom. Good. He and Curtis were there alone.
Grunt sprinted out of the stall and toward the bathroom door. He kicked the door stop away and the door swung shut. No inside lock. He would have to work fast and hope nobody else came in. He could hear the crowd in the distance clapping at the seal tank.
Just then, Curtis came out of his stall. Before Curtis knew what was happening, Grunt grabbed him by the shoulders, flung him around to face the stall he had just come out of, and kicked the back of his legs. Curtis was on his knees before he could do anything. Grunt had him by the back of his hair.
“You—” He thrust Curtis’ head into the toilet and then yanked it back.
“Will never—” Another dunk. “Bother—” Dunk. “Ginny—” Dunk. “Ever, ever again!”
With that he yanked Curtis to his feet and shoved him against the door of the stall. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a switchblade. This wasn’t the little pocket knife he’d used a year ago to puncture Curtis’s bicycle tires. This was the real deal and he’d seen more than enough at the motel to know how it was used. He held the knife to Curtis’s throat.
“You listen to me, you little dick sucker. You will stay away from Ginny forever. Do you understand?” Curtis was still trying to catch his breath.
Grunt pressed his knee up against Curtis’s groin. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, yes!” Curtis shrieked.
“I know who you are and I know where you live. You think about telling anybody about our talk and I’ll come get you. I swear I’ll come for you.”
“I won’t tell. I swear!”
“And you’ll stay away from Ginny.” It was an order, not a question.
“Yes, I promise I’ll leave Gwinny, uh, Ginny, alone,” he managed to say while sucking in large gulps of air.
With that, Grunt closed his switchblade and kneed Curtis between the legs. As he was walking out of the bathroom a couple of boys were approaching.
“You might not want to go in there,” he offered. “Some kid is barfing all over the place.”
Chapter Thirteen
2000
Ginny looked at her son in horror. “Corbin said what?”
Jason shrugged. “Corbin said you and Dad used to be part of some motorcycle gang and the guy that owned the gang was getting the electric chair. Is it true?”
Ginny willed herself to stay calm. Corbin was in Jason’s grade at school. He was a troublemaker. They’d had the same teacher last year. Hopefully they wouldn’t be in the same class when school started again. Corbin also lived on the same block as the Reynolds’, so it wasn’t unusual that the three boys would have played together over the last couple of days.
She inhaled deeply.
“Nobody can own a motorcycle gang, honey, and the State of Florida doesn’t use the electric chair anymore.” She knew her reply sounded lame even to her own ears, but she was so unprepared for Jason’s question that she didn’t know how to respond.
Maybe it would be better if she and Tommy sat Jason down for a talk. Did they really think they could keep this secret from their son after it was resurrected in the media last year when Moe’s remains were found, and again a few days ago with Grizz’s execution?
It wasn’t a media circus like it had been fifteen years ago when Grizz was first arrested, but Moe’s story had been picked up by a few reporters last year. It was briefly featured on the local news and she and Tommy were each discreetly interviewed by the police.
Moe’s family had eventually given up their horses and sold their land. Moe’s remains were found by an excavating company as they were prepping the site for new construction. The remains were unidentifiable; but experts were able to extract some DNA from the roots in the skeleton’s teeth, as well as partial DNA from some human flesh found in a plastic food container. After comparing it to that of one of Moe’s half-sisters, it was determined that the body belonged to Miriam Parker, missing since 1969. Fingerprints were found on the container as well – fingerprints that belonged to another young woman, a fifteen-year old who’d gone missing in 1975 and was later discovered married to her captor.
Ginny’s fingerprints were on file with the police thanks to Sister Mary Katherine, w
ho had insisted after Ginny had gone missing that someone go to the house and at least get a record of her prints in case she was ever located. This was long before DNA evidence was used, yet the elderly nun knew that having them might someday be valuable. Surprisingly, the police complied. As technology advanced, the prints were eventually scanned and entered into a national database.
When she’d first learned this, Ginny remembered being grateful to the holy sister. Someone at least had cared enough about her to try to push for authorities to search for her. But, truth be told, she was sorry now that it had gone that far.
Ginny recalled how she’d sat calmly with Tommy that day in the detective’s office as they explained once again how Moe had died of an overdose. She’d told them the same story years before, so it was nothing new, but it was still painful to relive. The detective took down the information and thanked them. The whole process took less than thirty minutes.
They’d decided on the way home that they would tell Mimi. A chill came over Ginny as she remembered that conversation.
“So you and Dad didn’t meet at school?” Mimi had asked matter-of-factly.
“No. Your mother and I met when we ran with a rough crowd,” Tommy said.
Mimi had looked first at Ginny, then at Tommy. “You two ran with a rough crowd? Yeah, right,” she said a little too mockingly.
“Tell her, Tommy. Just tell her the truth. She’s a smart, mature girl. She can handle it.”
So they’d told her. Mimi didn’t interrupt once as they took turns filling in the story. They left out a lot of details, including Grizz being her father.
“So where is this Grizz guy? Did they execute him or is he still in prison?”
Ginny shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “He’s still on death row. We wanted to tell you because if it catches the media’s attention, we might all lose some friends. I honestly don’t know. But we do know that we want to keep it from Jason if we can. He’s still too young.”
Tommy had looked at the girl. “Are you okay with this, Mimi? We know it must be a shock, but we’re a family. Families have to trust each other, even with secrets.”
“Am I okay with this?” Mimi asked, an odd smile lighting her face. “It’s the coolest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Cool?” Tommy had blinked. “No, Mimi, it’s not cool. It’s a part of our past that we have done our best to leave behind. It’s not something we’re proud of. We’re only telling you because there’s a chance you’ll hear it somewhere else and we want to set the record straight up front. It’s—”
Mimi cut Tommy off before he could continue. She stood and slung her backpack over her shoulder. “I get it. It’s a big, bad family secret that people may or may not find out about. Whatever.”
And with that she’d left the den without giving her parents a backward glance.
Ginny had always imagined that she would be close to her daughter. Up until a couple of years ago, she thought she had been. She had warm and heartfelt memories of that younger Mimi. How they had giggled together one day after they’d come home from piano lessons to find a bouquet of handpicked roses wrapped in tinfoil on their front step. Ginny had smiled as Mimi had read the awkwardly written note attached to it declaring a young admirer’s undying love and his willingness to save Mimi a seat at his lunch table. That was the daughter she’d taken shopping. Who’d held her mother’s hand nervously as the doctor pierced her ears. Who’d flung herself into her father’s arms when he got home from work every night.
That Mimi was gone. That Mimi no longer existed.
Maybe she should just count herself lucky to have had some semblance of a mother-daughter relationship for a little while. She certainly hadn’t experienced that with her own mother, Delia. And she knew Tommy had never experienced any kind of decent home life. What would they know? What would they have to compare it to?
Nothing.
She sighed loudly as she thought about the cold shoulder she would get from Mimi when she asked too many questions. The nasty attitude when she enforced the house rules, curfews, and insistence that Mimi check in regularly when spending time with friends. She’d thought maybe they’d bonded a little bit when Mimi encouraged her to give Leslie the interview. Apparently, she’d been eavesdropping on her parents discussing it and was only too willing to offer her support. Ginny had agreed to the interview, thinking it would be a good way to fix whatever had been missing between her and Mimi the last few years. It seemed to be helping a little, but Ginny wasn’t certain.
She put her memories of last year and Mimi’s recent support of Leslie’s interview on hold as she pulled into the driveway and noticed Tommy’s car was still in the open garage. A car she didn’t recognize was also parked in front of the house. So he hadn’t left and he had a visitor.
Maybe it was better that he was home.
Maybe Corbin’s comment was something they could talk to Jason about together.
She steeled herself and followed Jason into the house. As soon as they got rid of the visitor, she told herself, they would sit down and talk to Jason together.
Then, if he hadn’t already done so, she would help Tommy pack his bags.
Chapter Fourteen
2000
Tommy didn’t know what to say to Louise about the journal. He never knew Moe had kept one. Before he could reply, the front door swung open and Jason came barreling in.
“Dad!” He dropped his bag on the floor and ran to Tommy in the living room, grabbing him around the waist. “I missed you, Dad. I’m glad you’re back from your trip. Is my helmet fixed? Are we gonna ride today?”
Tommy hugged him back as he gently laid the notebook on the seat he had just vacated. He looked over Jason’s head and saw Ginny calmly walk into the house. She laid her purse and keys on the small table and strode into the living room. Their eyes met.
“I missed you too, buddy.” Tommy said without breaking eye contact. “Yes, your helmet is fixed and I’ll take you for a ride this evening, when it’s cooler out.”
Jason looked up at him and Tommy patted his back. “Your mom and I have a guest and we don’t want to be rude. Can you take your bag upstairs and get yourself unpacked?”
“Sure, Dad.” Jason glanced at Louise.
Before his son could fire off a round of questions, Tommy quickly added, “Jason, this is Miss Bailey. She’s the daughter of an old friend. She came to see me and Mom today, so I’d really like to have some time with your mom and her so the three of us can visit.”
Louise smiled at Jason. “Louise. It’s just Louise. Nice to meet you, Jason.”
Her expression told Tommy she knew after whom he’d been named.
“Nice to meet you, too. See you later,” Jason called over his shoulder as he passed his mother, grabbed his overnight bag off the floor and bounded up the stairs with the unlimited energy of a ten-year-old.
Ginny’s curiosity was aroused. She had been eyeing the woman during Tommy’s introduction. A friend’s daughter? She doubted it. It was probably a reporter telling another lie to get in the door. Would Tommy actually let another one in their home after the debacle with Leslie? But this woman seemed familiar.
“This is Chicky’s daughter, Ginny,” Tommy said quietly. “Louise Bailey.”
No wonder she looked familiar. Ginny smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, Chicky! Oh, dear Chicky. How is she?”
Louise explained about Chicky’s battle with cancer and subsequent death, then circled back to her main reason for being there: the journal.
Tommy nodded toward the notebook on the chair. “Louise was delivering this.”
Ginny looked at the notebook, then at Tommy. Before she could ask, he added, “It’s a journal. It was Moe’s.”
“Her journal? I didn’t know Moe kept a journal,” Ginny said, the shock evident in her voice. “How did Chicky have a journal that belonged to Moe?”
“She found it,” Louise replied.
“Where? When?” Ginny asked as she dis
tractedly sat down on the piano bench. She looked at Louise and then at Tommy, bewildered. “Did you know Moe kept a journal?” she asked him, an edge to her voice.
“No, Gin. I didn’t know,” Tommy said simply.
Louise looked from one to the other. “Mom found it after Moe died. She told me Moe’s room hadn’t been used for a while. I guess it was a sad time for you.” Louise nodded at Ginny.
Ginny looked down at her lap. “Yes, it was very sad. I couldn’t bring myself to go in there for a long time. But,” she added, “I looked through her room the day she died. Tommy was with me. We didn’t find any journal.”
“It was there. Mom said that after a few weeks had passed, you’d asked her if she would clean out Moe’s room. You told her you thought Moe would want her things to go to charity, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it yourself.”
“Yes, that’s true.” Ginny remembered it all now, the way the grief and the guilt had held on and on, the way she’d kept picturing Moe, her dark hair and eyes, her small shy smile.
“Mom said she found it under a stack of drawing paper and supplies. Guess it was easy to miss if you thought you were just looking at a pile of art stuff.”
Tommy looked over at Ginny and the expression he saw on her face was pure torment. Ginny had already confided in him years before about the horrible guilt she felt after Moe’s suicide. How she hadn’t noticed Moe’s despair. He knew what she was thinking.
“Don’t think it, Gin. Don’t even think it. You missed a notebook that looked like it belonged with a pile of her drawing stuff. I missed it, too.”
“I missed everything that was important,” Ginny said a little too loudly, her voice thick with unshed tears.
Louise held up a hand. “I’m sorry. I—I didn’t mean to bring bad memories or anything like that to your door. I was just trying to do what Mom wanted.” She looked at Ginny directly. “You know, Mom didn’t want you to have this until after Grizz died. Maybe it’s better that you didn’t find it back then.” She paused, then added, “That’s just my opinion. I’ve taken enough of your time. I can see myself out.”