His Light in the Dark

by L. A. Fiore

  The smile died on my lips as soon as I closed the door. The house had been ransacked; he’d been in a rage. Ever since Mace challenged my dad, he didn’t go full out crazy on me. He still hit, but he didn’t beat and having lived with life significantly worse, I could tolerate it. As much as he liked to pretend that he was a tough guy, he really was just a coward—hitting those he deemed weaker than him. He was a beater, so if he wasn’t beating me, he had to have started beating the women he dated which would explain why none of them ever lasted long. He had had a date tonight, the same woman who had been coming around for the past week. He hadn’t given me a thought when he made his plans for the evening, despite it being a holiday. Something must have happened tonight—she probably ended it because they always ended it—and of course every time something didn’t go right in his world, it was because of me. I wanted to turn and run, right back to the warm safe place of the Donati house, but I didn’t want to be a coward like him.

  A movement to my right caught my attention. For a man out of shape from drinking, he moved with alarming speed. His punch connected with my jaw, stars immediately filled my vision as I went flying back into the door. He didn’t wait for me to get back to my feet, before he lifted me by my hair, pulling me up enough for him to slam his fist into my stomach. Tears streamed down my face, but I held in the cries. He looked down at me curled into the fetal position, hatred staring back at me. “I can’t keep a woman when I’m strapped with you. You’re a worthless piece of shit. Clean this fucking house up.” Grabbing his bottle of whiskey, he stumbled to his room.

  I was up for hours fixing what he had trashed and even with the turn my day had taken, it was still the best day of my life.

  In the morning, the old man slept in so I’d be out of the house before he ever came down. I couldn’t go next door because once Mace saw my face he’d flip out and likely kill my dad. The idea wasn’t a bad one, but I didn’t want to see Mace hauled off to prison. Besides getting Mace involved would only fuel Dad’s hatred. Looking back on it, Mace knew the kind of man my dad was and he had manipulated him to get the outcome he wanted that first day. Mace had wanted him to spend the night in jail, knew the only way to make that happen was to get Dad to attack him with the cops watching. Mace had played my dad and even drowning himself in drink, he couldn’t deny that simple truth.

  The soft knock at the door plunged my heart into my stomach; visitors were never good. Peering out the peephole, I saw Mace and Dylan. Had they heard my dad last night? No, they’d have been over here in a flash. They wouldn’t have let me sleep here. Warily, I opened the door being careful to keep the bruised side of my face hidden. Mia stood in front of her dad, a big smile on her face, and in her hands was a plate with gingerbread and pie.

  “You forgot to take this yesterday.” She reached up to hand the plate to me and I hesitated taking it because moving my arms sent pain down my body. I made the mistake of looking at Mace; his smile faded and was replaced with fury.

  “Where is he?” I had never heard Mace sounding as he did in that moment and clearly Mia hadn’t either because she tilted her head back, staring up at her dad in confusion.

  “Where?” Dylan asked now.

  “Upstairs.”

  “Stay with Mia.” Mace ordered before he and Dylan disappeared up the stairs. They were trying to be discreet, but tempers flared and before long their raised voices carried down to us.

  “You ever lay another finger on him, fuck the police, I’ll kill you. You want to call the police now, you cowardly motherfucker, let’s do that so they can get a good look at your son.”

  “You can’t take my son.”

  “Yeah, I can. Social services is already monitoring you after the last time. They have records from the hospital where you lived prior; they could build a case against you easily and remove Cole. He stays with me, he’s close and if you get your head out of your ass, you’ll have a chance to see him. But you put one more mark on him and I’ll snap your fucking neck and make it look like you took a drunken spill down the stairs.”

  Mace appeared a few minutes later, red in the face and seething. “Grab your stuff, you’re staying at our place.”

  I didn’t argue, wanted to be with them, so I turned for my room but Mia’s hold on my hand stopped me. When I looked back at her, she looked older somehow. “Until you’re healed, you’re taking my room. No arguments.”

  Tears burned the back of my eyes so I squeezed her hand before I hurried up the stairs, Mace right behind me, so luckily he didn’t see as the tears spilled down my cheeks.

  In the year that followed, I had known what it felt like to be loved and wanted. I didn’t live in fear of my father, worrying that he’d get drunk enough or pissed enough to not heed Mace’s warning. I never went to bed hungry and after a while I even understood what it felt like to hear someone tell you they loved you. Mace, even though I was almost fourteen, tucked me in at night, kissed my head and told me he loved me. Never in my life had anyone ever told me they loved me. I would do anything for Mace and Mia, would sacrifice everything for them, and sadly, a year later, I would end up doing just that.

  Fiddling with the paper Dad had left on the table, I noticed the picture of the neighborhood, the Melrose Diner—they made great milkshakes. Some guy, Carter Stein, a local was making a name for himself. That was a perk of our community, everyone looked out for everyone and a person’s accomplishments were the neighborhood’s accomplishments.

  Another nice thing about our community, we all stuck together. The way they rallied regarding Cole had been awesome. People had noticed what was happening with Cole, and when Dad stepped forward to stop it, folks lined up behind him. It would seem the unity of the neighborhood against him was not something Carl Campbell wanted to deal with and so Cole had lived happily with us for two years. Dad still worried, since Carl could push it and likely win, but so far he stayed silent. How a father could treat a son the way Cole’s did—abusing him and then discarding him—I didn’t get, but I was glad he wasn’t making an issue with Cole’s new living arrangements because Cole was happy. His eyes, the ones that had been so haunted when we first met, they sparkled all the time now.

  I was supposed to be working on my homework, but I was mad. Well, I was upset too. I had just started fifth grade and as much as I liked school, some of the kids had started to tease me because I was kind of awkward. I was ten, but my body was growing wrong. My arms and legs were too long and I was skinny and let’s not even talk about my hair that looked like I’d put my finger in an electrical socket. I kind of did look like a lollipop—one of the many nicknames the kids had started to call me. I didn’t want to say anything to Dad because he’d go crazy and telling Aunt Dee and Dylan and not Dad didn’t seem right. A noise startled me, just as Cole appeared, coming from the house. He’d been mowing the lawn.

  “Hey, Cole.”

  “Mia.” He settled next to me, his gaze searching. “You okay?”

  In the three years since we’d been friends, he had grown a lot. He was almost as tall as Dad and his face was different, more mature is what Dad called it. I wasn’t the only one to notice; girls had started coming around. I didn’t get what the big deal was. So what if he was taller and his voice deeper. Cole cared though, because I had overhead a few conversations between Dad and Cole discussing safe sex. Gross.

  “Why am I so awkward looking?”

  His fingers stilled on the newspaper, his gaze lifting to mine. “Awkward?”

  “My legs are too long and so are my arms, they nearly drag on the ground when I walk. And what in the name of God happened to my hair? Cole, look at my hair. It’s like a rat is nesting in it. I didn’t look this odd when I was younger. You know I didn’t. Am I going to grow out of this?”

  He looked irritated. I was irritated too as I continued on, “Kids have started teasing me, but I can’t really blame them. I’m funny looking. Dad’s not and neither is Aunt Dee, but me, I’m the ugly duckling.”

  “
Ugly duckling? You’re not an ugly duckling. You have any paper in there?” He asked as he gestured to my notebook.

  “Yeah.”

  “Give me a sheet and your pencil.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do it, Mia.”

  “Fine, you don’t have to be so testy.”

  His chuckle pulled a smile from me as I handed him the paper and pencil. As I watched, he sketched me. I hadn’t any idea he could draw. When he was done, he pushed the paper in front of me. “Does she look like an ugly duckling?”

  “Well, not with how you’ve drawn me I don’t, but I don’t look like that.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “I do not.”

  “Mia, which one of us is staring at you right now? Trust me, you do. You might feel awkward, but you don’t look it. Are they boys who are teasing you?”

  “Yes.”

  “They like you.”

  “I’m ten.”

  “Doesn’t matter how old you are.”

  “Did you like girls at ten?”

  His grin was wicked. “Sugar, I came out of the womb liking girls.”

  “You’re a dork.”

  “Dork?” His expression changed, turning him into what looked like a cartoon villain, “You’ve got until the count of ten and then I’m tickling you until you beg me to stop.”

  I didn’t wait to hear the last of his threat; our house was on the corner, an easy escape. I flew out of my yard and down the street. He caught up to me easily and doled out my punishment and then he took me for ice cream.

  It hurt when someone you thought of as a friend proved they weren’t at all. And I thought Lucy was my friend, but the way she’d been talking about me behind my back, clearly I had been wrong about that. My other friends thought her teasing was related to Curtis asking me out not her. I wasn’t interested in Curtis, had turned him down, but that didn’t matter to Lucy. Apparently Cole had been right about Curtis liking me, since he was the same kid who had been teasing me.

  I hadn’t realized I was no longer alone on my front stoop, until a shadow fell over me. Looking up, I saw Cole. He studied me for a minute, taking in my flushed cheeks and moist eyes, his jaw clenching before he settled next to me on the step.

  “What happened?”

  “You were right about that kid teasing me because he liked me.”

  Cole’s expression turned thunderous. “Did he try something?”

  “No, but there’s a girl at school who’s being catty to me because she likes him.”

  Again his jaw clenched. “What’s she saying?”

  “Just stupid stuff, but I thought she was my friend so her cruelty hurts more.”

  “What kind of stupid stuff?”

  “That I made it up, Curtis asking me out, because I wasn’t pretty enough to attract a boy like him.”

  His head turned from me, but not before I saw the anger that turned his expression darker. “You’re the prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen, always have been.”

  My jaw might have dropped. His attention turned back to me. “She’s jealous.”

  “She’s very pretty.”

  “You’re prettier.”

  My stomach felt all funny hearing him say that. “How can you know that?”

  “Curtis asked you out, not her.”

  He stood and disappeared into the house before I could reply, but since I was still processing what he’d said, I didn't have one.

  A few days after our talk, when I left school, it wasn’t Dad waiting for me but Cole. He rested up against a light post, his arms crossed over his chest. As soon as he saw me, he strolled over and reached for my bag.

  “Mia.”

  “Hey, Cole. What are you doing here?”

  “Walking you to the garage.”

  “Where’s Dad?”

  “Working.”

  An itch started between my shoulders and I peered over one to see Lucy standing by the doors, staring, a lot like how the girls that came to the house stared. As if Cole was a huge ice cream sundae and they were the spoons.

  “Is that Lucy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re definitely prettier.”

  My heart was bouncing around like a pinball behind my ribcage. We started down the street.

  “Thanks, Cole.”

  He answered by smiling, one that nearly had my legs crumbling beneath me. I’d only ever seen him smile like that once before and it was as beautiful a sight now as it had been then. I wasn’t the only one to think so because I could hear the gasps around me. It was really that good. After that day, Lucy’s teasing stopped. Exactly what Cole had intended.

  “Have you given any thought to what you want to do after high school?”

  Mace and I were sitting on his deck, Mia was off with a friend from school, shopping at the mall—an activity she was doing more and more of. Most of the time it was Mace who took her and I usually got roped into going too because Mace insisted if he had to suffer through shopping, he wasn’t doing it alone. Luckily today, Mia’s friend’s mom took them. We had dodged that bullet.

  “No, I haven’t. For the longest time my only thought was getting away, guess I’m still kind of in that mindset.”

  Mace’s jaw clenched, it was instinctual, since my dad hadn’t made a peep in nearly two years. The fact that he hadn’t reacted in any way about me staying at the Donatis worried me a bit. It wasn’t like my dad to be accommodating.

  “And now?” He asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m not much of a student.”

  “You need to start thinking about it. Whether you decide to continue your education with college or look for a full-time job, you’re getting to the age that you need to start putting some serious thought into it.”

  “College? I’ll never get into college.”

  “Not with an attitude like that, you won’t. You’re a smart kid. You can do anything you want. Don’t let the unfortunate circumstances of your childhood dictate the rest of your life. Reach for the stars, Cole, I’ll help you.”

  And there it was again, the feeling of belonging. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

  “Good. All right, let’s start dinner. Mia will be home soon and she’s going to be starving after all that shopping.”

  “For such a little thing, she really does pack away the food.”

  Mace was partially through the threshold when he threw a grin at me from over his shoulder. “She takes after her old man.”

  After school one day, I noticed one of my dad’s friends among the crowd. The sick fuck wasn’t even hiding his lustful glances at girls that were at least twenty years younger than him. His bloodshot eyes found mine, his lips curling up into a snarl.

  “I realize you think you’re too good for your dad, but he’s not doing so good. Maybe, if you got the time, you can stop by and see him.”

  Dad drank like a fish, the alcohol was killing him slowly. I honestly didn’t give a shit if he lived or died, but having experienced kindness and compassion with the Donatis, I could rise above and treat my dad with civility.

  “It’s not that I think I’m too good for him, just got tired of being his human punching bag.”

  “Kids today, getting knocked around is just a part of growing up.”

  “Yeah, if you’re unlucky enough to get a mean-spirited drunk for your dad it is.”

  “You my kid, with a mouth like that, I’d knock you around too.”

  Moving into him, I straightened my spine to every bit of the six feet I was now. “Try it.” He said nothing, but took a few steps back. “It’s not as easy to beat on someone your own size, is it?”

  Hatred stared back at me, but I just didn’t care. Turning my back on him, I headed home, and the Donati home was home. Dropping my stuff in the kitchen, I was dragging my feet as I made my way next door. I wanted to get the visit over with.

  I didn’t think it was possible for the place to smell any worse than it had when I lived here, but it did. In the two years since
I last stepped over that threshold, it was likely the place hadn't been cleaned once. Bile rushed up my throat and I swallowed to keep it down. The man lived in squalor, again too drunk to notice or care. He’d been on disability for over ten years, falling from a ladder during his construction days. He’d likely been drunk then too. Hadn’t worked a day since, spent his days drinking and his nights whoring or beating the piss out of me. Not anymore.

  Stepping into the living room, I saw him on the sofa, a bottle at his feet, his eyes on me. At one time, he had been a good-looking guy. I’d seen the pictures of him when he was younger: captain of the football team, homecoming king. I assumed the woman in the pictures with him was my mom, but he never talked about her. Staring at him now, his golden years were definitely over. His gut hung over the waist of his jeans; his face blotchy from the drink and his teeth yellow since brushing them was no longer a priority. Unease moved through me because he didn’t look sick, he looked the same as always. Drunk and mean.

  “You like your new home, boy? You like dick, is that it? You over there letting him fuck you?”

  My fist clenched and for the first time in my life I not only acknowledged what lived inside me, I wanted to unleash it.

  “You going to answer me boy? Or is it the little girl? She’s a pretty little thing, you tapping that.”

  My body went numb even as my anger simmered. “She’s ten.”

  “So what. Pussy’s pussy.”

  Nausea battled fury, staring at the man whose blood ran through my veins. My voice was surprisingly steady given the emotional storm raging through me. “Stay away from her.”

  “They got a lot of nerve taking a man’s son from him. That bastard walking into my own house, threatening me, taking my kid. He’s a fool if he thinks I’m going to let that go. He’ll learn to stay out of shit that ain’t his business. You’re my son and how I choose to raise you is entirely my business.”