When His Dreams Take Flight

by Andy Holloman

  I can stop. I have to be better than this. For the baby.

  He walked over to the wall. His mouth was dry. “Goddamn coa.” He pulled it out of floor and slid his hands down to the base of the blade. He held the blade near his stomach and swung it sideways, smashing the handle into the wall. It broke, leaving six inches of handle below the blade.

  I’m sick of this shit. What kind of father am I going to be?

  He gripped the remaining handle and threw it at the coffee table. It hit the bottle and knocked it on the floor. The blade embedded in the wood of the table.

  He walked over and picked up the bottle. It was still three-quarters full. The smell rose up and filtered through his nasal passages. His skinned flushed. He brought the bottle to his lips but then stopped. His hand dropped down to his side and he walked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

  ***

  “Joss, hey it’s me.”

  “Well, hey there, Nickie. What are you doing calling me so early on a Sunday morning?” she said.

  He smiled, “I didn’t really expect to catch you up this early, but I’m glad I did.”

  “Well, I’ve been going to the early church service most Sundays with my mom.”

  “That’s really good.”

  “I’ve really cut back on the drinking, too. You’d be proud of me.”

  He laughed, “I am proud, Joss. And you’ll be happy to know that I fought off the urge last night. Had an open bottle and everything, but I poured it out in the bathroom.”

  “Oh my gosh, that is so great. Is that why you called?”

  “No, well, that’s part of the reason. I need your help with something.”

  “Sure, sugar, anything.”

  “Do you know the area on Old Highway 29 where the bridge crosses Thompson Creek?”

  “Of course. Isn’t that near where Gene had his accident?

  “Yep. Can you meet me at the bridge after you get out of church?”

  “Of course. Why?”

  “I just have this weird hunch about Gene’s death and that maybe if we look around a little we might find something that will point to what really happened.”

  “But didn’t the police already search around that area?”

  “I don’t know how much they did because they were thinking at the time that it was just an accident.”

  “And you think that something else happened?”

  “Well, I don’t know. I want to look around myself and I could use your help.”

  “Of course sugar.”

  XXIII -- August 8, 2013

  Stick and his attorney sat in the interview room at the Mt. Rutgers Police Station, waiting for Alice and the District Attorney to join them. Stick had been successfully stalling the negotiations regarding formal charges for the school incident. His mental capacity at the time of the shooting continued to be an important point of contention and one that the District Attorney felt would be hard to overcome if the case went to a jury. Alice, however, had recently shown the D.A. an amazing new piece of evidence regarding Stick’s possible involvement in Gene Smithson’s death. Alice was dumbfounded when Nick and Jocellynn handed her the ball peen hammer four days ago. The DNA sample taken from the blood on the hammer turned out to be a perfect match with Gene’s DNA. The hammer even had ‘Laskin’ written on it; the writing faded but legible. There was little doubt it had been involved in Gene’s death. How exactly, was yet to be determined, but Nick and Jocellynn’s discovery of the hammer, so close to where the accident happened, made it a very compelling piece of evidence. All they needed was to present the hammer to Stick and his attorney. She hoped for a strong reaction.

  Nick entered the station and came up behind her in the hallway.

  “Hey, Alice. Are they here yet?” asked Nick.

  She turned around, “Yes, but I told you to stay out of sight.”

  “Understood. Isn’t there some kind of two-way mirror or some setup like that so I can watch? That’s what they do on TV.”

  “Yes. You can watch, but nothing more.”

  “Are you gonna film this whole thing?”

  “No, the camera’s staying off. Besides, he’s got an attorney with him, so he’s not going to be talking.”

  Nick looked up and down the hallway and lowered his voice, “Alice, I’ve got to have two minutes alone with him. He killed the love of my life and he murdered our friend. Please? Two minutes is all I need.”

  She shook her head, “No promises on that. I shouldn’t even be letting you watch. Let’s see how things go when I talk to them.”

  He pointed at a large Glad bag in her hand. “Is the hammer in that bag?”

  “Yep.” She dropped the bag into a paper grocery sack.

  “Don’t forget who brought you the hammer. We gave you the smoking gun.”

  “We don’t know that. But it is a damn good piece of evidence.” She opened the door to the room where he could watch and listen to the interview without being seen. He walked in and she held her finger up to her lips. He nodded.

  Stick’s attorney stood up and held out his hand when Alice entered the interview room. “Hey, Alice. Good to see you again.” They shook hands.

  “Same here, Doug. Thanks for coming, Stick,” said Alice.

  “Got no time for this. Let’s get it over with,” said Stick.

  “Alice, I explained to my client that we’re here out of respect for your office and we are happy to hear what you have to say. We remain, however, very firmly committed to wanting this matter to be presented to a jury. The shooting at the school was a horrible, horrible accident and we are deeply saddened by what happened to Ms. Tucker. But you know that my client was not in a position to—”

  “Doug, enough. I’ve heard you repeat this same thing over and over. Can’t we dispense with this BS?”

  “Alice, please, there’s no need to be disrespectful.” He sat down beside Stick. Alice took a seat on the opposite side of a small metal table. “Again, we are simply here out of courtesy to you and to the D.A., nothing more.”

  “Some new evidence has come to light,” said Alice.

  “Well, then there are proper channels to disclose that, Alice. You know the protocol. The D.A. should be here.”

  “Robbie couldn’t make it.”

  “Well then, since we are here, I would be very happy to review any additional evidence you have involving this case. It still won’t sway me from my recommendation to Mr. Laskin.”

  “This might.” She reached into the grocery bag and pulled out the bag containing the hammer. She dropped it on the table. The weight of the hammer landing on the metal table made a very loud noise and both men jerked back from the table. Doug picked up the hammer and turned it around in front of his face. He could read the name on the handle. Stick’s eyes opened wide and then reset a second later. His face turned ashen.

  “You recognize this hammer, Stick?” asked Alice.

  “Alice, now you know that I’m the one that will be doing the talking here,” said Doug.

  She smiled at Stick and noticed the beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.

  Alice leaned forward, “Did I mention to you folks that I took over for Gene when he retired and that I loved that man like an uncle?” Doug looked at Stick, who looked away.

  “So, let me get this straight,” said Doug. “You’re saying to us that the reason we’re here is not about the school shooting but has something to do with Smithson’s auto accident?”

  She nodded, “Except it was not an accident. Gene was killed with this hammer and it was setup to look like an accident.”

  “I had nothing to do with that accident,” said Stick. Doug glared at him.

  “This hammer says otherwise, you murdering piece of shit,” said Alice. “The DNA matches and you were nice enough to write your last name on the handle so we wouldn’t have any doubt about it being yours.”

  Doug ran his fingers through his hair then loosened his tie. “And where was this item found?”
/>   “In a creek bed, about five hundred yards from the scene of the staged accident.”

  “Who found it?” asked Doug.

  “Two very reliable witnesses. Pillars of the community, actually. They were out for a walk and just happened to see this hammer lying under a log beside the creek. Looks like after Stick bashed in Gene’s skull and staged the accident, he tossed the hammer into the creek, thinking that no one would ever find it. Ain’t that right, Stick?”

  “I don’t know squat about that hammer. This is a bunch of horseshit,” said Stick.

  “We’ll need some time with this new evidence and I’ll need to chat with Robbie. This is not the normal way these things are handled,” said Doug.

  “Maybe this is a little out of the ordinary, but I just wanted to see the look on his face when I put this in front of him.” She stood up and stuck her finger in Stick’s face. “I’ve seen guilty scum walk free, but I will make it my number one priority to put you away for the rest of your life for killing my friend.”

  Doug reached over and gently pushed her finger away from Stick. “Alice, why don’t you and I see if we can get Robbie on the phone?”

  Stick stood up, “I’m not sitting in this hot room waiting for you folks. I’m going back home.”

  Alice smiled, “You’ll stay right here. I have a warrant in the next room for your arrest for Gene’s murder. You won’t be going anywhere today, or ever.”

  “Now Alice. There’s more to be discussed here,” said Doug. “Stick, please just give us a few minutes.” Stick nodded and sat down. Doug stood up and opened the door for Alice. She packed the evidence back into the grocery bag and they started down the hall.

  “We can call from my office. It’s the second door on the right. I’ll be right there.” Doug walked down the hall and turned into her office. She stuck her head in the room where Nick had been watching.

  “I’m going to give you three minutes. If I don’t see you walking past my office door in exactly three minutes, then I won’t be granting you any more favors,” said Alice.

  “He did it,” whispered Nick.

  “It’s not settled yet. But we sure do have him and his fat ass attorney on the ropes. You and Jocellynn did good.”

  “Thanks, Alice.”

  She held up a finger, “This is really important. If you lay a hand on him, you’ll screw this all up.”

  He smiled, “I won’t. I want him put away, too.”

  “Three minutes,” she glanced at her watch, “starting now.” She left and Nick went to Stick, opening the door without knocking.

  Stick looked frazzled, “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Nick closed the door behind him. “I came to give you a message.”

  “Well, look, I’m sorry about your lady friend. It wasn’t my fault because my mind just wasn’t right that day.”

  Nick took a deep breath, “No; it was your fault, and you’re going to pay. But now you’re going to get even more time since we know that you killed Gene.”

  “Get the fuck out of here before I call my attorney back in,” said Stick.

  “I found your goddamn hammer, Stick. It was me. I saw the whole thing. I know you killed Gene.”

  “Yeah, right. I’m getting out of here. I’m not going—” he started to stand up.

  Nick put his hand on his shoulder and forced him back down in the chair. “You sit right there and listen. You killed my Allison and I watched you kill Gene.” Nick’s face reddened. Veins throbbed in his neck. “I saw you push his car off the road and into a tree. Then I saw you walk down the hill and bash his head with your hammer.”

  Stick folded his arms and turned away. “What? Are you fucking kiddin’ me? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I saw it all in a dream. I was flying and I came over the scene that night,” said Nick.

  Stick snorted, “A fucking dream?”

  “I used to have these flying dreams after I tied on a big one. But I kicked the habit and when I had my dream about you,” he thrust his finger into Stick’s chest, “I was stone cold sober.”

  Stick shook his head, “Great. So you had a dream. My attorney will get that shit laughed out of court.”

  Nick smiled, “You and I are the only ones that are going to know about my dream. See, I saw you walk away from the wreck carrying your hammer, and you tossed it off the bridge. Bet you thought it would be gone forever, huh?”

  Stick’s eyes narrowed, “You, um, well that’s some wild story you got.”

  “It is. You’re going away. But I want you know who’s going to be responsible for putting you in that cell. I want you to think about me, and Allison, and Gene. But mostly I want you to remember me, because I’m going to tell you exactly what went down the night you killed Gene. I saw the whole thing.”

  “Yeah, right, in your dream, huh?”

  “Yep, in my dream. So I figure you surprised Gene and smashed his head with the hammer, and then drug him to his car. Or did you just knock him out and then take him somewhere and beat the shit out of him to try and find out what he did with the dirty money I know he took from you?”

  Stick’s head snapped back, “Fuck! He told you about the money?”

  Nick nodded, “He did. Told me all about how he took the money out of your car’s door panel and put it to good use.”

  “I knew that sorry bastard stole my money.”

  “So you put him back in his car and drove him to that deserted road. You put a bottle of bourbon in the passenger seat and then you set his car up so that it went speeding down the hill and smashed into a tree. But you went down to the car and he was still moving. He wasn’t dead yet, right?”

  Stick stared at him. The color had left his face.

  “So you grab your hammer and smash his head a couple more times. What the hell, he’s been in a car accident, right? No one will know the difference. Then you check his pulse and he’s gone. Now you’ve got to get rid of the hammer. You start walking back home and you throw your hammer off the bridge. I saw it. You even stopped for a second because you didn’t hear it splash, right?”

  Stick stared up at him, his mouth open.

  “Kinda freaky, huh? Like you’ll never really be able to tell anyone about it, but you’ll always know it was me that busted you.” He slammed his fist on the table. “You killed the greatest thing that ever happened to me and you killed my best friend. Now you’re going down for a long, long time.”

  Stick looked at the mirror on the wall, “It’s not like—I mean, I don’t know really what you think, but nothing like what you said is true.”

  Nick looked at the mirror and then back at Stick and smiled. “There’s nobody watching, Stick. This isn’t some trick to get you to confess. The hammer’s all we need to put you away.”

  “I want my lawyer back in here. He’s going to blow this—”

  “No, he’s not. You’re screwed.” Nick looked down at his watch. “My time’s up.” He stepped towards the door and put his hand on the knob. He let go and turned back to Stick. “Just keep this in your mind. Twenty years from now, when you’re in your cell, looking at pictures of the grandkids that you’re never gonna play with and your fat cellmate settles in on that shiny, steel toilet, or maybe it’s the guy in the cell next to you. You know the guy. Ugly as hell, smells bad all the time, eats a lot of that shitty prison food. Well, when one of these guys fills your nostrils with that horrible stench coming off what they’re dropping in the toilet, when that odor reaches your nose and you can’t shake it out, that’ll be from me. That’s my special gift to you. Because every day, while you’re locked up, you’re gonna smell that shit. For the rest of your life. Remember that. And remember it was me that put you away.”

  Stick’s eyes widened, “Holy shit. That’s exactly what Smithson said to me one time. How in the hell did you—”

  “Just bask in all this, you son of a bitch. Let this settle on top of you, just like that prison smell you’re never gonna shake. You
’re done.” He left the room and slammed the door behind him.

  XXIV - August 13

  “Mr. Townsend?” The nurse gently touched his shoulder. He was napping in the surgical waiting area.

  “Um, yes. Is everything okay?”

  “It most certainly is. I’m very happy to report that your daughter is doing very well. Just as Dr. Barnes told you though, we are going to have to keep her on the floor for a few weeks. She’ll need some special care. But the doctor said to tell you that everything went well. Your daughter is very healthy.”

  Nick smiled, “Thank you. What’s your name?”

  He pointed at his name tag. “I’m Josh. Very happy to meet you.” They shook hands.

  “Can I see her?” asked Nick.

  “You certainly can. You can go to the NICU whenever you’re ready.”

  He held up his hand. “But she’s okay, right? Ten toes, ten fingers, all that good stuff?”

  “Yes. Everything is in the right place.”

  “And Allison?”

  “She did fine. I know that her situation has been very hard on you. But there is so much to be happy about and I’m sure she would be so happy herself to see this healthy girl today.”

  “Can I see Allison first?”

  “Yes. Dr. Barnes said I should bring you back if you wanted that. And she told me that you and she discussed the fact that we will be disconnecting Ms. Tucker’s support systems now, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Follow me then,” said the nurse.

  He stood up and followed him through the doors and into the operating room. His throat tightened when he saw her. Tubes surrounded her and the machines that kept her alive hummed and beeped. He had practiced what he wanted to say to her on this day. He hoped the words he had spoken to himself would appear in the proper order, in a way that she would like. His legs trembled. The nurse nodded at the three staff members remaining and they put down what they were doing and left the room.

  He stood by the side of her bed and put his hand on top of hers. “Hey there, sweetheart.” His voice cracked. “Thank you for keeping our little girl safe until she was ready to be here. I’m so hoping that she has your gorgeous red hair and more freckles than there are stars in the nighttime sky.” He bent down and brought her hand up to his lips. Tears streamed down his cheeks and fell onto her hand. “I know you’ve been worried about me, because of how hard this has all been. I just want to tell you before you go that I’m okay. You don’t need to worry. I’m going to take all of the love that I have for you and multiply it a gazillion times and give it back to our baby.” He swiped his hand across his eyes. “Our daughter is going to have the best life and she is going to know all about you. She’ll know about your kindness, your beauty, and how much you wanted to have her. She’ll know how you helped so many students and how much you loved me. She’ll know that you are always watching over us.” He sobbed loudly and his head dropped down on the bed. “So, I—now—I have to say goodbye.” His shoulders shook. “And I hate it.” He rubbed his eyes. “But please don’t worry about me because I’m going to be fine. You have given me a gift that I will cherish and devote my life to. I’ll stay healthy and I promise I won’t go back to any of my old habits. I want you to always know that you’ll be in my thoughts and dreams, now and forever.”