“I believe you,” I whispered.
“Mr. Garro, we’ve been told you are healthy enough to be transferred to provincial detention,” a voice said over my shoulder and I jumped around to see three uniformed police officers come into our small curtained space.
My daddy followed.
“Daddy, no,” I cried out as the men came into the room and one of them began to tell Zeus something in police-talk about his rights. “Daddy, NO!”
“Louise, what in the world are you doing out of bed and with this man?” he demanded, jerking forward to grab my arm in a painful grip and tug me toward him. “Jesus, you never listen. Why can’t you do as you’re told?”
“Daddy, he’s my guardian monster,” I tried to explain. “You can’t take him away to a bad place or else no one will look after me.”
“Don’t be a baby, Louise. You have Nanny looking after you. Your mother and I pay her a very fine salary to look after you and Beatrice and teach you French.”
“Je deteste le francais!” I screamed. “And I’ll hate you too if you take Zeus away. He saved my life, Daddy!”
“He put it in danger in the first place,” my daddy yelled right in my face and I was so shocked that I stumbled backward and fell. Only my daddy’s hard grip on my arm kept me hovering over the floor. “I will not hear you defend him. Now, this nurse is going to take you back to your room where you will stay until I say otherwise. Do you understand?”
“Please, Daddy,” I whimpered because he was hurting my bad shoulder by holding me like that, and especially because I didn’t want my guardian monster to go away.
For the first time in my life, I felt like I had a champion.
“You’re hurtin’ her,” Zeus told my daddy from behind me and even though his voice was calm there was something mean in it that made me scared for my daddy.
Daddy sneered at him. “Mind your business. You seem to have more pressing matters at hand. How do those cuffs feel, Garro? You better get used to them.”
I gasped as I turned around to see Zeus’s big arms behind his back locked up in silver handcuffs.
“Daddy,” I cried again. “Please, don’t do this.”
“S’okay, kid. It’s not your dad that’s done anythin’, it’s me. When you do somethin’ bad, you have to pay penance for it, like in church, right?” I nodded. “Right. Well it’s the same with the law only you pay penance by going to prison.”
“Shut your mouth,” Daddy ordered him then turned to Betsy. “Take my daughter to bed and do your fucking job. Make sure she stays there.”
“I won’t forgive you, Daddy,” I told him as Betsy gently ushered me toward the curtain. “Ever.”
“I can live with that,” he said, then he ignored me and stalked right up into Zeus’s face. He was a lot smaller because every man was a lot smaller than Zeus, but he still threatened him. “If I ever see you anywhere near my daughter or this family again, I will personally see to it that your life is ruined beyond all hopes of repair. Understood?”
Zeus looked down at my daddy as if he were a bug that landed on his boot, easily crushed but not worth the bother. “You threaten a man like me, Lafayette, be prepared to reap the fuckin’ consequences.”
Then with his head high and his body at ease despite the handcuffs, Zeus led the officers out of his curtained room and through the emergency room to the waiting police car outside.
Betsy let me watch as they drove away, tucked under her arm and against her breasts so that my tears got caught in her pink scrubs.
That was the last day I called Benjamin Lafayette “Daddy”.
2008-2009
Zeus is 26 and Louise is 7.
Dear Mr. Guardian Monster,
I hope you feel better now. Daddy told me you went away to a place where bad people go. Does that mean you are in hell? Can I visit you there?
I am worried that if you are away no one will look after me. Mum and Daddy are too busy because they are super important people. Nanny doesn’t speak English real good. My little sister Bea is okay but she cries a lot because she is still a baby.
I am still really sick. I had a Christmas play last week and I threw up all over the Baby Jesus. Mrs. Peachtree tried to pick me up, but I threw up on her too. I had to go to the hospital again and I hate the hospital. Nanny told me the doctors told her that there is something really wrong with me. When Mummy came to visit, she cried.
Do you think I am going to die? If I do, can I come stay with you in hell?
xoxo,
Louise Margaret Lafayette
Lou,
Not gonna die, kid. Anyone ever tell you, you got a dark imagination? Little kids get sick all the time and then they get better, yeah? Wasn’t gonna write back but I had to tell you to cut that shit negative stuff out. Now, don’t be sad or anythin’, but we can’t write to each other. You don’t get it now but I’m a grown man and it’s fuckin’ feckin’ weird to write a seven-year-old little girl from prison. That’s where I am, prison. And yeah, Lou, it’s a lot like hell, only worse ’cause I figure there’s women in hell and a whole lotta sinning. Only thing I do here is read and do prison labor on a feckin’ farm.
You’ll get it when you’re older, but this is goodbye. Have a good life, kid, and keep outta trouble, you hear? I may not be there to look over ya, but I’ll be able to tell if you stay good.
Z.
Dear Mr. Guardian Monster,
I know you said that I couldn’t write to you anymore but I thought I should tell you that I am not going to get better so I will probably see you in prison in a little bit. See, I got cancer. Nanny told me it’s in my blood so they can’t even do an operation or anything. Daddy got really mad and he said he’s gonna get me a doctor like Super Man to help me get better. Betsy told me that lots of kids get cancer but she looked scared. I wouldn’t tell anyone but you, because you are my guardian monster, but I’m scared too.
I hope you write me back but if not, maybe see you soon.
xoxo,
Louise Margaret Lafayette
P.S. Do you believe in God? I do but I don’t know why he made me sick. I promise, I pray every day.
Lou,
Jesus Christ, Fuck me, God fucking dammit.
No, Lou, I don’t believe in God. How can a man believe in an all-powerful nice guy who lives the high life behind pearly gates while the rest of us suffer down here on earth? How can a man believe that a little girl sweeter than sugar freakin’ pie deserves to get cancer?
You are goin’ to get better, kid. I know it. You know how I feckin’ know it? ’Cause you are a little warrior. You didn’t cry in the face of a huge biker with a gun pointed at your heart and you ain’t gonna cry ’cause of this, you hear me? You are strong and you are gonna fight this.
It’s still a feckin’ stupid idea for me to write to you, but Jesus, how can a guardian monster abandon his girl when she needs him?
Here still. Tell Betsy to write me a letter with more detail about the cancer, yeah?
Z.
Dear Mr. Guardian Monster,
Betsy wrote you a letter about the cancer. I tried to read it, but I don’t understand any of the words. Betsy told me to tell you what I feel like because I don’t know the doctor words for it. I have to stay in the hospital most of the time now, for medicine that makes my head really hurt and my heart skip rope in my chest. My bones really hurt, kinda like if dogs are chewing on them. I drew a picture of hellhounds biting on my legs, but it made my little sister cry and my mummy’s voice got really high and tight when she called me disgusting. Mummy threw it out but Betsy saved it and I gave it to her to send to you. Do you like it? That’s you, the big man in the clouds with your thunderbolts so you can save me.
Are you going to come and save me? Or is prison too far away to get here before I die?
xoxo,
Louise M. Lafayette
P.S. I am worried about you in prison. Do they at least have lollipops there? I love lollipops, especially the cherry kind.
L
ittle Loulou,
Yeah, kid, I got the letter from Bets. You have Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. I looked it up in the prison library. The bad news is, it’s gonna suck to fight this and you’re gonna get real tired doing it. Good news? Those docs really know how to treat this shit. There are stages to cancer, kid, four of ’em and you are stage 2. This is really good, yeah? The odds of a kid beatin’ this thing are high and the odds of you beatin’ it? Even higher.
Really like the drawing, Lou. I got a few from my kids in my cell and now I got yours here too. Makes the place a little brighter. And I don’t got any lollipops, but gotta say, I don’t have a hankerin’ for them and straight up, kid? Those things will rot your teeth right out.
Z.
Yeah, before I forget again, cut it out with the Mr. Guardian Monster, yeah? Just call me Zeus.
Dear Mr. Zeus,
My hair is falling out. Betsy told me it was going to happen and a bunch of other kids in the cancer ward don’t have hair but I’m really sad. My hair was really pretty. Do you remember it? I think there was blood in it last time you saw me but mostly it’s gold and thick and long. Nanny used to brush it for me before bed and it felt really nice. Nanny shaved the little bit I had left off so I’m bald. Now, my head is super cold. It doesn’t matter really, I got to stay in the hospital right now and it’s always warm in here. I’m fighting, Mr. Zeus, really I am, but I’m super duper tired and even though you told me I was too strong to cry, I cried last night.
I haven’t seen my parents in three days and Nanny only brings Bea sometimes because she’s too little to see me all sick. I’m really lonely and I know you are in prison but if you could get maybe a Christmas break or something, could you come visit me? It’s really sad in the hospital but I think you could make me smile, maybe.
xoxo,
Little Loulou M. Lafayette
P.S. I’m happy you don’t like lollipops so now I don’t have to share. Betsy told me that in prison you don’t get a lot of stuff. What do you miss most? Maybe I can send it to you!
Little Loulou,
Listen to me now. You don’t need your parents. They ain’t there, good feckin’ riddance, yeah? They’re too busy to sit with a girl like you, sweet and kind even sick as a dog? Gotta say it, Lou, they don’t sound like good parents. Now, on top of everythin’ else you got goin’, that straight up sucks. Good news is, you got Nanny, Bea, and Betsy over there in your corner. You need to cry, you go to one of them and you tell ’em to get you a damn cherry lollipop or you get ’em to give you a hug. And I might be stuck in prison, little warrior, but you still got me, your guardian monster, keepin’ an eye on you from hell on earth. You feel sad, you write me one of your letters or make me a pretty picture, yeah?
Don’t miss nothin’ so much as I miss my kids. I told you before, I got a son who’s just two years older than you and a daughter round about your age. King and Harleigh Rose. They’re stayin’ with their mum and you know how your parents suck? King and H.R.’s mum sucks even worse. She’s not a nice lady and she’s a feckin’ crap parent so I get worried about them. Worried about them, worried about you… a guardian monster can only do so much from prison.
Stay strong, little warrior.
Z.
Betcha look pretty even without all that golden hair. You’re too young to get this, maybe, but sometimes a person’s got a soul so pretty it makes ’em glow prettier than anythin’ else. You got that kid, trust me. About the cold head, I asked Betsy to get you one of those knit cap things from my garage. Wear it inside out, yeah? Don’t need your dad crawlin’ up my butt about writin’ you.
2009-2010
Zeus is 28. Louise is 9.
Dear Mr. Z,
Merry Christmas! I don’t know if Santa comes to prison, so I got Betsy to send you a present. It’s not really big or anything because I don’t have a job yet. When I grow up and become a famous ballerina, I can buy you something even better. Betsy and I looked up what I was allowed to send you in jail and it’s not really a lot…Do you like it? I spent my whole entire allowance on it and Betsy took me IN DISGUISE to the biker shop to get it. It was super fun. I wore the toque you gave me but not inside out, so people could see Hephaestus Auto on it. Betsy gave me sunglasses too! I looked just like a biker girl. One of the ladies in the shop even asked me if my daddy was a biker just like you! Don’t worry, I didn’t tell her that you are my guardian monster, but I did lie and tell her yes. Lying is a sin so I had to go to the hospital chapel and pray for forgiveness, but it was worth it.
Anyways, did you know it’s my birthday in one week? The nurses are going to bring me a cake because I have to go in to get my medicine that day. I hope it’s chocolate! I CAN’T WAIT to be 9 years old! I asked Mummy and Daddy for tickets to the Nutcracker ballet in Vancouver but they say I might be too sick to go. I hope not. I tried to tell them that I’m feeling better and I am. I think the chemo thing is working!
I don’t want you to send me anything like last year. It was too big. I looked it up on the internet and when you work in prison you don’t make really any money so I don’t want you to waste it on me. Maybe you can buy King that dirt bike he wants! And then for my present you can send me a picture of him riding it. I think that would be really cool.
xoxo,
Little Loulou Lafayette
Lou,
Don’t care if you’re mad. Betsy told me your feckin’ parents didn’t get you those tickets, so I did. You accept the present graciously, like the little lady-in-trainin’ that you are, and you get Nanny or Betsy to take you to the ballet, yeah?
I didn’t get presents from Santa but in my experience, Lou, Santa doesn’t have much to do with adults so enjoy ’em while it lasts. Did get a visit from my kids though. Their mum brought ’em in, dressed in dirty clothes with their hair all tangled. Feckin’ killed me to see ’em like that. Killed me more to hold my little girl in my arms and breathe in her scent. She smells like flowers. Don’t know how, given her mum probably washes her in cheap crap but she still smells like a meadow. Not gonna lie to you, Lou—not that I ever would—but I felt that shit in my chest. Miss the way my daughter smells and holdin’ her in my arms.
You don’t get much love and comfort in this hell on earth, Lou. Wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Grateful for the magazine subscription, don’t like you spendin’ your money on some old man in prison but gotta say I missed readin’ about bikes.
Z.
2010-2011
Zeus is 29. Louise is 10.
Dear Mr. Z,
The doctors told Nanny today that the medicine is working, and it looks like I am going into remission… it means that I won’t be sick anymore.
I cried. I know you don’t like it when I cry alone but this time, it was good. I hugged my pillow and I cried so much my eyes were swollen nearly shut. But it felt really good. Can you believe it, Z? In a little while, I will be healthy again. I can go to the playground and swing on the monkey bars with the other kids. I can have sleepovers! I don’t really have any friends yet who would ask me, but now I can make some! I can even take dance lessons again. Not right away or anything because I still get really tired and dizzy, but the doctor said I could start again in six months or something. How cool is that? Mummy cried when she came to visit, and she told me Daddy was really happy. My sickness kind of embarrasses him and he’s running for mayor, you know, so now I can stand with him on stage.
My hair will grow back. I think it is probably vain to miss it so much, but I do. And when it grows back in, I am never, EVER going to cut it again. It’s going to be long like Rapunzel’s and no one will ever be able to tell that I was bald once.
It was a really happy day and I wish you could have been here, so I could tell you in person. Thank you for being my guardian monster and making me healthy again.
xoxo,
Little Loulou Lafayette
Loulou,
Fuck, are you old enough now for me to curse when I write you? Because this is cause for some serious cursi
n’ and I mean that in a shout-at-the-top-of-your-lungs kinda way like FUCK YEAH! So fuckin’ stoked, kid. I shouted for joy in my cell, I kid you not. My cellmate, Dixon, asked me if I’d won the lottery. Feels like it, Lou, it feels like I won the lottery knowin’ that you’re gonna get well and soon. I didn’t have anythin’ to do with gettin’ you better though. You did that all on your own, little warrior, and I am so proud of you. Never met a stronger lady and you’re only ten years old. I can’t wait to see what kinda woman you grow into now that you got the chance to do it.
Z.
2011-2012
Zeus 30. Louise is 11.
Little Warrior,
Gonna get outta here, kid. Can’t fuckin’ believe it but I’m up for parole after two and a half years. I got a good lawyer but it’s my “good behavior” that’s done it. First time in my life anyone ever commended me for “good behavior.” I nearly bust a gut laughin’ when they told me. Think they thought I was crazy. My guess is, I got you and my kids to thank. Spent so much time in my cell writin’ to them and, mostly, you that I was too busy to cause trouble. Been causin’ it all my life, so yeah, Lou, can’t fuckin’ believe it. If I get out after two and a half years instead of eight? I can see my fuckin’ kids grow up. King’s twelve years old now, almost a man. I can teach ’im how to be better than me. Kid’s smart as a whip, I’m tellin’ ya. He’s headed to university for sure, first person in the family. H.R. is ten like you and she’s too smart, too bull-headed like her father to stay with her mum any longer. She’s run away twice and the staff sergeant and his family are keepin’ her and King for now while my soon-to-be ex-wife gets clean again. You probably don’t know what that means ’cause, Christ, I’m talkin’ to a kid about matters way beyond her years. You don’t need to worry about my shit. You just worry about stayin’ healthy, yeah?
Welcome to the Dark Side (The Fallen Men Book 2) Page 3