Nine, the Tale of Kevin Clearwater

by T. M. Frazier

  Revenge.

  She points to the water. “She…she jumped, there was nothing I could do,” she lies.

  I slap the gun out of her shaky grip.

  She tries again. “I swear, she wanted to die. I was trying to save her. I fired at you because I thought you were the bad guys. The ones who killed Jared.”

  Oh, but I am.

  If she wants to play this game, I’ll play, and I’ll win. I soften my tone. “I get it. You’re obviously distraught, Yuli. Let me take you to the truck. My brother will be here in a minute. He’ll take you to the hospital, so they can check you over while I go down and look for Lenny.”

  Yuli looks reluctant, but she has no other choice than to trust that I’ve bought her lies, so she nods, buying mine. I place my arm under hers like I’m helping her to the truck. It’s slow, because she’s suddenly developed a limp. “Here, this will be quicker.” I pick her up…and walk toward the railing.

  “Wait! What are you doing?” She cries, beating her fists against my chest. “I told you there was nothing I could do! I swear it! She was crazy! Everyone knew that!”

  My blood turns to ice at hearing her call Lenny crazy. She wasn’t crazy. She was perfect, and she was mine, and this bitch just took everything that I’ve ever wanted away from me.

  And she’s going to pay…with her life.

  “We’ve met before, but allow me to introduce myself again,” I sneer. “I’m the bad guy who killed Jared.” Her eyes go even wider with fear. “But unlike you, whether I have bullets in my gun or not—” I toss her over the side and watch as she falls, failing her arms and legs down into the murky water. A high-pitched scream follows her body all the way down until there’s nothing but silence and the roar of my own blood pulsing through my veins. “I never stop being a killer.”

  Preppy pulls up next to me, his brakes squealing against the wet pavement. “Get the fuck in.”

  “Lenny’s…” I look over the bridge, unable to process the words or what just happened. Watching her fall for the second time is way worse than the first because now I know what it means to have her in my life. To love her.

  Loved her.

  “Fuuuuuuucck!” I scream over the water through the rain. I ball my fists and punch the railing. I don’t even feel the impact, but my fist is streaked with blood that gets washed away by the downpour as fast as it appears.

  “Productive,” Preppy comments. “But let’s remember an important lesson, class. She survived the first time. I’m not good with math or shit, but I’m thinking the odds are forever in her favor, and if there’s even a chance...” He gives me a what are you waiting for look. “Get in the fucking car!”

  I feel the hope rise within me from the very depths of despair. There’ll be no recovery unit. Not yet. This is still a rescue.

  I jump into his car, and we speed down the causeway, fishtailing as Preppy turns toward the bank. He hits the brakes but the car is still rolling as I leap out without bothering to shut the door.

  I scan the dark water and the shore for signs of Lenny. I spot a body, but it isn’t hers. The corpse belongs to Yuli. Floating on her back, her unfocused eyes lit by the full moon overhead. I fight the urge to pull her out just to throw her over again.

  I slosh through knee deep water. Searching. Hoping.

  “Nine, there!” Preppy shouts. “Look!”

  I look over to where he’s pointing and spot Lenny’s mangled body floating face down several feet from the shore. The fast-moving current is taking her further and further away with each passing second. “Poe! No!” I shout, jumping over a row of sharp rocks. I splash through the murky water, and it seems like eons before I finally reach her. I’m waist-deep as I turn her over and put my forearms under her shoulders, dragging her out of the water and onto the muddy shore. “Lenny! Lenny!” I scream, slapping at her cheeks.

  There’s no answer. No signs of life.

  “Fuck!” I check her pulse, but I can’t feel anything. Even if it’s there, mine is pounding so hard I can’t feel anything else.

  “Call a fucking ambulance!” I shout, but Preppy already has his phone to his ear, giving our location to the operator on the other end.

  I place my hand behind her neck, tilting her chin up toward me. I open her mouth and press mine over hers, trying to force her to breathe, wishing I could breathe for her. After several attempts, nothing happens. I fold one hand over the other and use my wrists to pump on her chest. Her body jerks with my movement, giving me false hope with each pump that it’s her coming back to life and not me trying to beat the life back into her.

  “Stayin’ alive. Stayin’ alive,” Preppy sings from behind me.

  I glare at him while continuing to will her heart into submission.

  “What?” he asks raising his arms in the air. He rolls his eyes. “Stayin’ Alive by the Bee-Gees. It’s the beat that you’re supposed to do CPR to. Believe it or not, I’m actually helping. I learned it from a ten-year-old on Youtube, and everyone knows the smartest creatures in the world are ten-year-old Youtubers. BTW, the ambulance is on the way.”

  Preppy switches from singing to humming as I switch from pumping on her chest to breathing into her mouth again. After a few more tries, I check her pulse again, pressing two fingers against her neck, but I don’t feel anything but crippling loss.

  I breathe into her mouth a few more times, then press my two fingers to her pulse once again. I count out loud, ready to resume CPR if I don’t feel anything by ten. “One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Come on Lenny. Six. Don’t die on me. Don’t you dare fucking die on me! Seven. Please, I fucking love you! Eight.”

  “Nine,” the count continues on a strangled whisper, but it doesn’t come from me or Preppy.

  Lenny’s eyes flutter open.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  NINE

  “Why am I the one in this bed?” I ask, looking around the hospital room. “Poe,” I rasp as Lenny’s face comes into focus. She’s hovering over me, smiling with dried blood caked on the corner of her mouth.

  “Maybe, I don’t know, because you were the one who was shot multiple times? Just a guess. Whereas I only took a small swan dive, swallowed some water, and broke my leg. Well, both my legs.” She points to the two casts that start at her toes and end all the way at the top of her thighs. They’re in a pointed position, resting on leg supports connected to her wheelchair. “Boys, such fucking pussies. Can’t take a couple of bullets and lose most of your blood without fainting all over the damn place,” she teases.

  I laugh but stop abruptly when sharp pain stabs me in my chest. “Yeah, I’m a fuckin’ pussy. You got me.”

  “Don’t move too much. One of the bullets went straight through but missed your heart by only centimeters,” Pike says. “It’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker. Trust me. I know.” He points to his arm, which is in a sling. He’s standing by the window, which is propped open with the help of a rolled-up magazine. He takes a drag on his cigarette and flicks it out before pulling the magazine and letting it fall closed. “I’ll give you two a minute alone,” he says, smacking me on the leg with the magazine on his way out the door. “And Lenny’s right. You’re kind of a fucking pussy.”

  I raise my hand just enough to shoot him a middle finger.

  He laughs and closes the door behind him.

  “Lenny, I’m so sorry. I should have told you about Jared. I was so afraid of losing you, of hurting you more than you’ve already been hurt. It’s not an excuse, but it is my reason,” I say.

  She places her hand on the side of my face. “I was waiting at the RV to tell you that it’s okay. That I’m okay. I trust that you did what you had to do. I hate that you kept it from me, but we’ve had a more than unique start to things, so I think a pass or two will be in order from time to time.” She smiles. “This being one of those times.”

  “Fuck, Poe. I thought I lost you again when she pushed you…” I begin to say, “I saw it. I saw everything.” The terror I felt pierces thro
ugh me at the memory, and I can’t bring myself to finish my sentence.

  Lenny looks down to where her hand rests on mine. “She didn’t push me. I jumped. It was my only chance, and I took it.”

  Despite the pain, I reach up to touch her face. “So fucking brave for someone who lives in a constant battle with fear. You’re incredible. You tempted fate twice. Do me a favor, and don’t fucking do it again.”

  She quirks an eyebrow. “This coming from the guy who I’m told ran directly into the bullets being fired at him?”

  “I was having a moment,” I mutter. “One where getting revenge on the bitch I thought killed you mattered more than surviving.”

  “Don’t ever do that again,” she says, her eyes filling with tears.

  I squeeze her hand. “Where you’re concerned, I can’t promise that. It’s not like I even decided to do it. It’s just what was happening.”

  “Okay, well then, I can’t promise that I’ll never tempt fate again, but I will promise to never again jump from the causeway.” She places her hand over her heart. “Scout’s honor.”

  “I’ll take that promise…for now.” I take her hand in mine.

  “What do you mean for now?” Her brows furrow.

  “There’s a lot more promises I want from you, that I want to make to you.” I try to sit up and fall back down when the pain rips through me like I’m being simultaneously electrocuted and cut through with a saw. “But they’ll have to wait until the second I can breathe without feeling like my ribs are being crushed.”

  Poe pushes a button, and a nurse comes into the room and pushes a needle through my IV. The world turns fuzzy, but I don’t want to pass out just yet. I don’t want Lenny’s face to fade.

  “I’m going to hold you to that.” She says. “You know, it wasn’t until I was dying and heard you counting when I finally realized the real reason you go by Nine.” She lazily rubs her thumb over the back of my hand.

  “Oh yeah? Took you that long, did it?” I tease.

  “I’m a slow learner.”

  “No,” I argue. “You’re mine.”

  She smiles. “I’m yours.”

  “Also, if anyone asks about the name…” I start.

  She winks. “I got you covered. Big cock.”

  “Ugh, don’t say cock,” I groan.

  “Why?” she asks, looking me over for more injuries.

  “Because it’s hot as fuck, and blue balls is not a pain I want to add to the mix right now.”

  “Hmmmm…if only you had something to take the pain away,” she sings. She reaches over to the small table next to the bed and grabs a large Styrofoam cup.

  “Is that what I think it is?” I ask.

  She nods and takes a sip before holding the straw for me to do the same. “Yep, Preppy was here and brought some of his super smoothies.”

  I take a sip but almost choke from laughter. “You drank one of Preppy’s super smoothies in the hospital?”

  Lenny leans in as far as she can from her chair and whispers, “Nope. I drank two.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  LENNY

  Four Months Later…

  Nine seems off. Nervous. But then again, he’s at court. So, I imagine that whatever he’s doing here can’t be good.

  After relentlessly questioning him about where he disappears to a few times a week and getting no definitive answer, I’ve decided to be a mature responsible woman about it...and follow him.

  He’s not the only one who's nervous.

  I stand in the corner of the large hallway tucked behind a large fake potted plant while Nine greets the officer standing guard outside large wooden double doors. After Nine enters, the guard begins to close the doors behind him.

  I jog over and manage to squeeze through right before they close. I offer a small smile to the officer who, thankfully, doesn’t toss me out. I shuffle quietly into the last row and take a seat. No sooner does my butt hit the chair when the judge enters, and the dozen or so people in the courtroom stand, including myself.

  “You may sit,” the judge says, taking his seat and glancing over the file in front of him. He’s a plump man with a shiny bald head and a short white beard. “This hearing is in regard to the well-being and guardianship of the minor child Huckleberry Leighton. Just so everyone knows, I like to keep my courtroom informal, but respectful. If anyone has an issue with that, you may see yourself out now.” He looks down to the file. “Who is standing in for Huckleberry Leighton, a minor, on behalf in my court, today?”

  I’m shocked when Nine stands up and buttons his suit jacket. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in a suit and it’s so distracting I have to really concentrate to hear his words. “I am, your honor,” he announces.

  The judge moves his glasses down on his nose and peers at Nine. “And you are?”

  “Guardian for the court, Kevin Clearwater, Your Honor.”

  I cover my mouth to hide my gasp. Nine is a guardian of the court? The very thing I told him I wanted to do with my life, but never did. My throat is dry. I’m trying to remain as calm as I can so I don’t draw attention to myself during the proceedings but what I really want to do is bounce out of my seat and tackle hug Nine in front of the entire courtroom.

  The judge waves for Nine to step forward and approach the podium where a long skinny microphone is attached.

  Nine does so smoothly and confidently, like he’s done it a million times before.

  “Mr. Clearwater, have you had a chance to speak with Huckleberry Leighton before today’s proceedings?” The judge asks, looking down at his paperwork.

  “I have, Your Honor. Many times.”

  “And in your opinion, what is the best course of action for the child?”

  “With no disrespect, Your Honor, my opinion isn’t why I’m here. I’m here to tell you what Huck wants and what his wishes are for his placement. Nothing more.”

  The judge looks up at Nine again with surprise. A small smile tugs at his lips. “By all means, proceed Mr. Clearwater.”

  “Huckleberry Leighton is a smart and bright eight-year-old who has been shifted around from foster home to foster home his entire life. He’s never had a mom and dad or a real family, and it’s what he wants more than anything in the entire world. He’s said as much every time I’ve met with him.”

  “And how often has that been?” The judge asks, making notes.

  “Twice a week, Your Honor. Every Monday and Thursday afternoon after his court-appointed visits with his biological mother.”

  “And in your…excuse me, in Huck’s opinion, does he wish to be reunited with his biological mother?”

  Nine looks to the scared, frail woman on the other side of the courtroom then back to the judge. “No, Your Honor. His wish is to have his mother relinquish parental rights so he can be adopted by a forever family.”

  “Miss De La Vive has presented the court with all of the requirements to be granted custody of her child once again, Mr. Clearwater. Does Huckleberry know this?”

  Nine nods. “He does, but he’s also been promised this every few months for his entire life. In addition, he was told by his mother on her infrequent visits that she was going to buy him a pony and take him to Disney World three times a year. The kid doesn’t want the promise of things that will never happen. He’s been there and done that. He wants a family. A reliable, stable family to love him as he deserves to be loved. The current foster family, the Andersons, have filed a petition for custody and adoption if circumstances and Your Honor will allow it.”

  “I love my boy!” Huckleberry’s mom stands up and shouts with tears in her eyes. “I do. I love my boy.”

  “Permission to speak to Miss De La Vive, Your Honor?” Nine asks.

  The judge nods.

  Nine looks to the woman with sympathy, but speaks to her plainly and without judgement. It’s an art form to hear him talk like this and I wonder how many hours of practice he’s had. “Ma’am, I mean no disrespect, but I spent my entire life in
the system. I know what it’s like to wait for something that’s never coming. Tell me something. Do you have the finances to buy Huck a pony if he were to go home with you today? Can you take him to Disney World as you promised?”

  Her shoulders fall. “No, I mean, not right now, but I will do those things when I can. Someday. I swear it. As soon as I get a job. As soon as I make enough money to move out of the shelter.”

  Nine’s voice is calm and clear. “Huck doesn’t want any of that. Huck wants to be loved. He wants someone who will cut the crusts off his sandwiches. He wants a comfortable bed to sleep in at night and a mom who will sing him songs until he falls asleep and who will stay up with him when he has nightmares. If the Andersons don’t adopt him, he could be ripped from their care at any time and placed back in the system where most homes aren’t like theirs. He could be subjected to both sexual and physical abuse or worse. Trust me. I’ve lived that life, and I don’t want to see Huck go through it.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do, ma’am. I wish I had a mother who loved me the way you obviously love your son, but I didn’t. I’m only here to tell you what Huck wants and to speak his wishes to the court.”

  “I do love him,” she says again, wiping a tear from her cheek.

  “I don’t doubt that ma’am, but love and the life he deserves are two different things.”

  “Please have a seat, ma’am,” the judge orders.

  She sits, visibly shaking. The judge turns his attention back to Nine. “Mr. Clearwater, before I make my decision, is there anything else you’d like to say on behalf of young Huckleberry?”

  “It’s his wish to continue to see his mother. He would want her to be invited to all birthday parties, school events, and holidays. He doesn’t want to shut her out. He just wants stability.”

  “Ma’am, how long have you been sober now?” the judge asks the mother.