It’s been a little more than two weeks since Liam went totally crazy on me, which means I don’t look as bad and I’m not as sore. Tonight, we are having a special Birthday Madness for Christian, since he’s turned eight this morning. He doesn’t know it, but we are all dressing like pirates. Jon told me my name is Pirate Hester the Black. Trust me; it is not as bad as Emily, who has to go by Lazy-Eye Jean.
Jess worked quickly to finish up Christian’s cake. She put little pirate figurines on the ship and wrote with icing in the waves. “Ahoy! Christian is 8!”
Right now, he was skating with a friend, but the friend’s mother knew to drop Christian off right at five o’clock, since that’s when the festivities began.
Impatiently, Jess moved her pirate dreads over her shoulder. Emily was in charge of make up and now Jess looked “like a proper wench” according to Emily. Jess was sure that “wench” was pirate for “slut” but didn’t comment on it. She also wore a white peasant blouse, like all the girls and a flowing red skirt, with some kind of beaded belt-looking piece around the waist. Just what Jess needed. Something to draw attention to her ever-expanding belly.
She was still shocked that people hadn’t found out, but with all the drama Liam stirred up, it was no wonder that sharing the news of her pregnancy had fallen by the wayside. Coby, of course, was upset, but even he had to agree that the best gift they could give Christian was the promise that in the spring, he would have a younger sibling. It would be a surprise for everyone else, too.
Positioned by the door, Emily, or Lazy-Eyed Jean, was dressed in a ridiculous Artemisia blouse, tight black pants and a pirate hat. The costumes, of course, had been Emily’s department. She had gone thrift store shopping, and found various pieces, including ones for Christian, and she hadn’t needed to spend a lot of money.
Libby, despite having the pirate name Hester the Black, was dressed in a full-length, white chemise, which went easy on her still-healing body, and was easy to get in and out of. Emily was a miracle-worker, and gently smudged make-up on Libby’s face to not only make it appear dirty, but to hide the fact that she was still bruised.
Morgan shocked them all when she arrived in an ankle-length purple dress, and a red cloak of a similar length, complete with a hood and a gypsy feather fan. To Jess’s knowledge, Morgan had not worn a dress in at least three years. Jess didn’t even think she owned one.
“What do you think?” Morgan asked, turning in a fast circle, clearly a little uncomfortable but willing to go with it.
Jonathan came in behind her. “You look gorgeous,” he told her honestly, giving her a kiss. “Now are you gonna get in the make-up line to wait for Lazy-Eye Jean, or am I?” he asked smiling.
He had come dressed in his pirate best. He hadn’t needed Emily to shop. Jon just busted out his red renaissance shirt, with puffy cuffs. The long black frock coat and the tight black pants. They made it hard to move, but Christian was worth it. He even had pirate boots, a rope-belt, and had brought his sword. He sat down in the make up chair.
“What do you want?” Emily asked, her eyeliner pencil poised like a dart to throw.
Jon shrugged. “I don’t know. Give me some of that eye stuff, some facial hair, and make my scar noticeable. Christian always thought it made me look like a pirate,” Jon said and smiled.
Nate and Cary came a little later, dressed in their Halloween costumes. Cary as the pirate and Nathaniel as the parrot.
“Here, let me do your make up!” Emily demanded.
“Okay!” Cary agreed and sat down, but Nate shook his head.
“I need Morgan’s green eye-shadow for this,” he insisted, taking off to find her in the kitchen.
“Nathaniel,” Jess said slowly. “How are you going to eat my spaghetti dressed as a parrot?”
Nate shrugged. “I’ll take it off. Hey Morgan, can I borrow your…” he trailed off, noticing her for the first time. “Wow. You look amazing.”
“Thank you,” she said curtseying, “So do you. I’m glad you’re getting more chances to wear this thing,” she played with a feather, and then saw a pirate ship fully manned, floating on blue-green seawater.
“Oh, wow, Jess, this is great!” Morgan exclaimed, seeing the cake for the first time. “This looks way better than the picture I sent you!”
“Thanks,” Jess sighed. “Let’s see…spaghetti’s warm on the stove. Garlic bread’s in the oven. …What are we gonna do for drinks?”
“Don’t worry! I’ve got punch ingredients!” Morgan announced, picking up the bag that also held Christian’s present and taking out a huge bowl, pineapple, orange, and lemonade concentrate, 7Up, rainbow sherbet, and oranges bananas and kiwis.
“Um…Honey?” Coby called.
“Yeah?” Jess returned, heading down the hall.
“We’ve got a problem,” he said, dressed in his black shirt, bandana and pirate pants.
Jess’s eyes widened as she saw the mess in their bedroom. Somehow, their darling dog had nosed it open and found Christian’s big birthday gift - an Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom Lego set that they had only been able to afford recently - and chewed a hole right through the box.
“Snoopy, what did you do?” Jess asked, picking up the puppy and staring into his sad face. “What? Huh? What are we supposed to give Christian now that you ate the box? That is not nice,” she said firmly, in the voice she used to talk to Christian when he was a baby. Then, she set him down in the doorway. “You go play with Linus now. I think Cary went back to get him.”
“Cary!” Coby called. “You got Linus out there?”
“Yup! He’s here!”
“Call our dumb dog to come play with him! I need to do some fast repair work on this present.”
--
Christian was so excited. First, he got to go skating at the rink with his best buddy and now he was getting dropped off just in time for Monday Madness with all his grown-up friends. His mom had even let him pick out what they were having. Of course, he picked spaghetti because it was his favorite, but only when his mom made it. When he walked inside, it was dark, lit by just candles with The Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack playing.
“There’s pirate gear in your room,” Emily said, wearing an eye patch and a hat and a funny shirt.
“Aye-aye, Captain!” Christian said.
Smartly, he ran to his room and found just what Emily said: a white pirate shirt with laces. There was also a red vest, black pirate pants, a pirate hat, an eye patch and a sword. “Yes!” Christian screamed, and put on all the stuff. When he came out, Emily drew a moustache and a beard on him, just like what happened at Morgan and Jon’s.
His mom and dad and all his friends were dressed like pirates and would only answer to pirate names. Even Snoopy and Linus were dressed up. Snoopy was Stitch because he ate everything, and Linus was The Cowardly Lion because someone hurt him and made him afraid.
“Who’s Nathaniel?” Nathaniel asked with an English accent when Christian asked whose parrot he was. “I’m Polly! I don’t belong to no one, and don’t you forget it!” Then, he squawked.
After that, Christian said “Ahoy!” to everybody and asked, “What be yer name?” He already knew his mom and dad’s and Morgan and Jon’s. Libby was Hester the Black and Emily had the funniest name: Lazy-Eyed Jean. It made Christian laugh so hard, especially when she made her eye do a weird thing. Cary wasn’t Cary anymore, but Pirate Walt The Cash-Strapped. When Christian asked if he could have some, Pirate Walt growled and mumbled something about eight-year-olds tasting good in stew.
They had spaghetti for supper and cool pirate punch to drink. It tasted like a party in his mouth. Pirate Walt told stories about buried treasure, how much he loved his wenches and mates, and how, one day, he was going to sail around the world, with his parrot, Polly, and be the happiest person on the seas.
Morgan - Tax Evadin’ Shannon Dregg - told a sad story about the nastiest pirate of them all, Calico John Cutty, once tried to kidnap her and make her his slave. Christian wasn’t dumb. He knew it was a real story, and that Morgan just needed to talk, the way he sometimes did, and the way his dad sometimes did, about that really bad day. Christian’s favorite part of the story was when all the other pirates worked together, and escaped John Cutty’s evil clutches.
Lazy-Eyed Jean just acted crazy and slurped her spaghetti really loud. Even his mom and dad were telling stories. His dad, about building a plank for Pirate William the Bald to walk. His mom about what was really in her spaghetti.
“Mmm…” Jon grunted. “Love eatin’ leftover-scallywag!” Then he took a big bite.
“Hey! You called me a scallywag the other night!” Christian objected.
“Better behave then. Or you’ll end up in Pirate Gertrude’s spaghetti,” Libby said with a wink. Then, she was Hester the Black, just like that, saying, “Please sir! I want some more!” and eating whatever noodle or garlic breadcrumb someone gave her.
Then, his mom, Pirate Gertrude, said it was time to open presents. By then, the lights were all turned on and the music was off, so they could hear each other. Christian saw six presents on the living room floor and felt a little disappointed. He had been hoping for at least eight, since he was eight now. But he got over it pretty quick when he was actually opening up the presents.
He did all the cards first. The only one he remembered was from Legend. It was plain and inside, she wrote. “Happy birthday! I hope eight is great for you! Miss you so much! Let’s Skype soon! Love, Legend.” He remembered it because of the message and because she sent him eight dollars.
His mom kept those, and the paper check, frowning to herself saying that she didn’t have to do that. Christian knew about the checks and about the savings account Legend had been putting money in since he was a baby. Legend told him before he left that she was like his aunt and aunts could give money to their nephews for college. He tried to tell his mom that, but she didn’t listen. His mom appreciated the help, but she was also kind of proud, so it was hard for her to accept.
First, he opened up a cool Harry Potter Monopoly game from Cary. He got an awesome game called Apples to Apples Junior that was for nine year olds, but Libby got it for him! Emily got him a make your own chewing gum kit. Nate got him a Bionicle. Jon got him Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.
“It was the longest book I could find that an eight year old would be into. I figured that way, you could get lots of reading minutes in. And if you like it, there‘s apparently more.”
“Thanks! I never read this!” Christian said. He was already imagining how the book would sound before bed, in the morning, and in the middle of the day. He heard it being read by all his friends’ voices.
Morgan’s present made him smile. It was small, but it was still good. She got him the new TobyMac CD called Tonight. It was special because only Christian, his mom and Morgan really liked rap music.
Then, it was time for his mom and dad’s gifts. His dad came out of their room, where all the presents were kept, carrying a huge present wrapped in balloon wrapping paper.
“Snoopy chewed the box a little,” Coby apologized, “But he didn’t hurt anything inside it.”
Christian tore it open and screamed. It was what he always wanted. The Indiana Jones Lego set! It even looked good to him with the corner chewed. “Oh, holy crap! This is the coolest thing ever! Thank you, Mom and Dad!”
“You’re welcome,” Jess said, laughing, as Christian launched himself at them. “Now, who wants cake?”
When everybody got up and headed to the kitchen, Jess and Coby snagged Christian by a belt loop.
“Hey,” Jess whispered. “You only had seven presents.”
Christian shrugged and smiled, showing off the huge gap in his teeth. “It’s okay. They were really good ones.”
Really, it was okay. Christian could still remember birthdays from a long time ago, when his mom couldn’t afford any presents at all for him. He said it was okay then, because he didn’t want her to feel bad. Now, to have a party so big and special like this was better than anything he could make up in his mind. He even felt a little selfish, telling his mom and dad he wanted eight presents. Some kids got no presents at all. But his mom and dad didn’t look at him as if he was selfish. They looked like they had a secret. Christian made himself sit really still and not ask what it was or where they hid it. He was good at being patient anyway. Then, he thought again, and decided not to hope too much. It might be a bad secret and he didn’t want to be let down.
“Well, the thing is… Your eighth present…” Coby said, hedging on purpose. “It’s kind of already here and we can’t really take it back.”
Christian’s eyes widened. “Oh! That’s okay! That’s great!”
Jess looked at Coby, suddenly apprehensive. Christian changed his mind all the time. What if, by now, he didn’t want a younger brother or sister anymore? But Coby nodded.
“Christian…I’m pregnant…” Jess said, studying his face for a reaction.
“Oh, yes!” he cheered, pumping his fist. “That’s the best present ever! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Jess smiled and reached out for his hand, placing it on her stomach. “In there, is your little sister, AJ…”
Christian’s brows were furrowed. “Are you sure she’s in there? I don’t feel anything.”
“Trust me,” Coby said, laughing. “She’s in there.”
“Well, when is she done? You know, like, when can she come out?” Christian asked, smiling. “’Cause I really want to see her and play with her.”
“The end of April,” Jess said, feeling relieved.
“Are you gonna tell everybody now?” Christian asked. “Because I don’t think I can keep this a secret.”
“We’re telling them right now,” Coby said, picking up Christian.
“But we had to tell you first,” Jess interjected.
“Because she’s my birthday present, I know,” Christian nodded. “Come on!”
Jess laughed. “That’s exactly right.”
“But wait for Mom. It’s her news. She gets to tell, because she’s doing all the work,” Coby said, rubbing his beard against Christian’s cheek and making him laugh.
--
By the time they made it back out to the kitchen, Jon was waiting impatiently with the lighter. “It’s about damn time, you guys! I want some cake!”
“Holy cow. Is that mine?” Christian asked, staring in fascination at the huge pirate ship cake.
“You got it,” Jess said. “Happy birthday, CJ.”
Despite both Coby and Christian giving Jess looks, she shook her head. They were going to light the birthday candles and sing Happy Birthday before any announcing was done.
The second Christian blew out the candles, he looked at his mom and cleared his throat.
“Our family has announcement to make,” Jess said casually, cutting slices of ocean for the guests. “I’m pregnant.”
There was a beat of silence and the room exploded with cheers.
“And!” Jess shouted over the noise, “We’re having a girl!”
“Shit, girl. How far along are you?” Cary asked, taking a big bite of cake.
“Five months…” Jess mumbled.
“Five months?!” Emily exclaimed. “How come you didn’t tell us sooner?”
“Because AJ’s my birthday present!” Christian said loudly, taking a big bite of cake.
“Anna Jaclyn,” Jess supplied, silencing the curious looks and questions about the initials.
While they ate, everyone took turns coming around the table and congratulating Jess, Coby, and Christian, on the new addition to their family. Libby looked on smiling. It wasn’t that long ago that they were all doing the same thing, because Coby had finally proposed.
“Wait! Don’t we have another surprise?” Christian asked, as they were cleaning up. He came closer and whispered to Coby, “You know. For Libby.”
“We were going to wait for Christmas, right?” he asked.
“I really want to share my birthday with her, though. And we’re all here.”
Coby stood up. “All right. The birthday pirate has spoken. Libby…I mean…Hester… the fun’s not over yet. Come with us.”
“What?” Libby asked. She looked around at the faces of her friends, but they all just smiled knowingly. Nathaniel nudged her with his feathery body. “Go on. It’s good, I promise, you’ll like it.”
“You guys! My birthday’s not for months!” she objected, as Cary held her hand and walked her down the stairs. Behind them, Morgan and Jon had started singing a rousing chorus.
“Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me! We pillage plunder, we rifle and loot! Drink up me hearties, yo ho! We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot! Drink up me hearties, yo ho!” they sang, clinking their glasses of punch together.
Emily joined in, inexplicably knowing not only the first verse Morgan and Jon were singing again and again, but every other verse, too. Slowly, more joined in, except for Libby who was too curious about what was going on, and Coby and Jess, who were too far ahead. Even Christian knew the song, because the Jonas Brothers had recently done a cover.
When they finally reached the bottom, they turned right down the hall, and left again, in the opposite direction of their bedroom. Libby blinked. The light was on, and ahead was the door to the room Coby was cleaning out, but now, it had a simple wooden sign hanging on the handle. It was painted lavender with yellow hearts. It said, Libby’s.
“Isn’t this going to be the baby’s room?” Libby asked, confused.
She felt anxiety rise up in her suddenly. The last time she had been in that room, Liam had beaten her. Christian had been given responsibilities he never should have had to been given. Libby swallowed.
“Open the door and find out,” Coby urged.
--
Nothing could have prepared Libby for what she found.
When the door was pushed open, Libby gaped in shock. All her nervous feelings were gone, and she couldn’t believe her eyes. Even though it was night, the room was lit beautifully with all kinds of light. The floor was vinyl but looked wooden. There was a sink right next door. Inside was too amazing to look at directly. There was a huge U-shaped desk, her easel, new pants and brushes, cups that held pens and chalk and odds and ends for collages. Yellow and green beanbags sat against one wall. A pegboard.
It was an art studio. It was her art studio.
“You guys…” Libby gasped. “You didn’t have to do this. It‘s too much.”
“Go on in and check it out,” Morgan urged. “I tried to get all the stuff you liked but I didn’t really know the names of everything and some of it wasn’t in the budget. But I hope its okay.
Stunned, Libby walked deeper into the room. Only then did she notice the second window that had been installed. The big box fan for ventilation. Her friends had really done their homework. But right now, they stood back, letting her take in everything.
Lavender and light yellow handprints were all over one wall, with names beneath them.
“We saved you a space,” Cary said. “Whenever you want to add it, you’re more than welcome,” he said.
“Oh, my God, you guys! I can’t believe this!” she said, feeling tears sting her eyes.
“Libby! Look up!” Christian called from the doorway.
Overwhelmed, Libby did, and she was shocked to see the masks, hanging from the ceiling above her head. The Thanksgiving art project Libby had done with them. They were suspended with string so fine Libby had to squint to see it. For a long time, she just stared.
“Did you see your gallery?” Nate asked, stepping into the room. By now, he had shed his parrot costume and was totally comfortable walking around in his shorts and tee shirt with traces of Morgan’s make-up on his face.
He led her to one wall. There were three double-frames that looked homemade and six paintings that looked familiar:
The top left frame held Coby’s Helplessness painting. His leg, which he had painted in the shop with her. It was vivid and disturbing in its life-likeness. Libby looked closer and could see that HELPLESSNESS by: Jacob Walker was carved into the bottom part of the frame, beneath the work. Beside helplessness, in the right-hand frame, there was HAPPINESS by: Christian Walker - a red-and-orange swirl that Christian said were leaves, because he loved playing in them and they were beautiful.
In the middle, on the left, was Christian’s Fear. He painted it yellow because it was a strong color, and his fear was very strong. Tears sprang to Libby’s eyes as she saw that Christian had written his questions to Jess himself, on the front of the painting. Beside this, of course, was Jess’s Love. It was simple but so very powerful, especially when paired with Christian’s painting. It was more than art. It was a conversation between mother and son.
And below that, was Christian’s Sadness. Blue like tears and green like being lost in the woods, Christian had said. Beside this, was Coby’s Strength and Power - the spider web of names all connected to one another.
Libby could feel her friends behind her now, staring at the art, just like she was, traveling with her from place to place.
“You made these, didn’t you?” she asked Coby, shocked.
“And the desk,” Jess added, and Libby’s mouth fell open.
Numb with surprise, Libby moved on to the second wall, where two pairs of paintings hung.
First, was Christian’s Loneliness. Gray like a cloud on a rainy day, and like his last name that he didn’t have anymore. And beside that…Libby’s breath caught. It was her own painting. Tolerance, with the Chinese symbols and the smaller symbols in all four corners, representing all different kinds of love between people. TOLERANCE by: Elizabeth Wright & Nathaniel Barrett-Mackey was carved into the frame beneath the picture. She touched the wood gently.
“I always wanted to be an artist,” she said to herself, letting her eyes travel to the set of frames below it.
Christian’s Anger was there, big and black, covering the entire page. Like a volcano or a storm, he said later. But beside it was the picture Libby had tried to paint the day she was attacked. Nathaniel had done the actual painting. Her own fear obscured by vivid red self-worth and the memory of Christian’s red jacket. She had titled it Superhero. But Christian had re-titled it, and it looked like Christian had won. REAL MAN By: Elizabeth Wright & Nathaniel Barrett-Mackey hung as if it was meant to be there - despite its awkward structure and messiness - the opposite of anger was a real man, indeed.
Finally, she moved to the third wall, surprised to see paintings there that she had never seen. On the top, left, there was a painting of the earth, with a crazy combination of colors streaking the sky around it. Libby referred to the bottom of the frame, and smiled. CHAOS By: Cary Barrett-Mackey. And beside it, was Nathaniel’s Peace, where he drew the place where he felt the safest - the church - surrounded by beautiful leaves, the border still was bumpy and puzzle-shaped, suggesting something bigger, but only focusing on this small piece.
“I love this, Cary. Thank you,” she breathed.
“Hey, that’s Morgan!” Christian exclaimed, staring at one of the pictures at the bottom.
Libby looked down and felt a shock run through her as she saw ADDICTION by: Morgan Davis so prominently displayed. There was the mirror, and the smoke surrounding it. The reflection of the pills and drugs she had taken. Libby squinted. There was something else new. In the mirror, was the note she’d left. Libby didn’t have to ask. She knew it was the real thing. A tiny scrap of paper. Disjointed handwriting, begging them to let her go, because “smoke and mirrors are all that’s here.”
Because she couldn’t look at it anymore, Libby put it out of her mind and prayed to see better things on the other side. What she wasn’t expecting was that same mirror, drawn just in pencil, and in it, the clear reflection of a woman’s face. The eyes were sharp and focused, a little angled at the outside. The nose was exact and the mouth, while not smiling outright, carried an expression of contentment. Automatically, her eyes focused on the frame, and bit her lip to keep her emotions in check. The pencil sketch was FREEDOM by: Jonathan Mitchell.
“Jon, I didn’t know you could draw…” she managed, and she didn’t. As far as she knew, Jonathan had no artistic ability whatsoever, but here was proof that the opposite was true. And here was proof that on the other side of addiction there was freedom.
Libby didn’t wait to hear his answer. She couldn’t, because she was already studying the painting she had done the first night she had been here. Independence was just as it had been. Tiny fireworks lighting up a pitch-black night. Libby remembered sneaking out to Coby’s shop to paint it. Remembered the feeling of not being able to rest until it was done. The release of it being complete, and the feeling of truth it carried with it.
Slowly, she focused on the painting beside it, another new one. A photo collage of Libby and Emily’s cross-country trip. There they were standing outside The Beast, before they took off. A picture of Emily loading boxes into the back, with CVT written below it. Next was a picture of the giant sundaes they both had gotten at Culver’s when they dropped off the first round of donations. A picture of the lights on the Chicago street and then of the McDonald’s, a clear reminder of when they had found the little boy. There they were outside of Target in South Bend, shopping for more donations. In Erie, helping set up for the garage sale. A picture of their hands, in Buffalo, as they both tied knots on the edge of the fleece when they were Blanketeers. And a picture of Emily in Syracuse, pretending to eat a huge box of donations that Libby had just put into The Beast for transport. And, in the center, was a picture of the two of them standing on Jess and Coby’s front step, smiling.
This one - the one beside Independence - was SUPPORT by: Emily Stewart.
Libby couldn’t help it. She went around, and one at a time, hugged her friends and told them how much this meant.
“We made it,” Emily said simply.
Libby put an arm around her, bumping into something hard and frowning.
“Why do you have your camera?” Libby asked, confused.
“Because! You didn’t think I’d make a whole photo-collage and not document this moment forever, did you?”
“Okay, get together everybody. This is a photo opportunity so look good! One, two, three!” Emily counted.
So, they moved close to one another, and they smiled.
--
Later, when Libby printed an eight-by-ten for her studio, she studied the faces who smiled back at her. It was a great picture, with everybody gathered close - huge grins on genuinely happy faces.
Christian, standing right in the middle of all of them, with his pirate costume and almost no teeth. Nathaniel with his parrot hat, tee shirt and shorts, Cary, with his pirate getup, planting a kiss on Nate’s cheek. Coby, dressed in his Puffy Shirt Stu best, with his arm around Jess. Jess with her head on Coby’s shoulder, and her hand resting protectively over baby Annie. Jon and Morgan, with huge smiles, clinking their glasses of punch, and looking like they were about to go into another round of A Pirate’s Life for Me. Emily, standing with her arm around Libby, smiling hugely. And Libby, surrounded on one side by Christian and the other by Emily, looking genuinely happy, with tears shining in her eyes.
There they all were:
Christian: her happiness. Emily: her support. Coby: her strength, and Jess: her love. There was Cary, her sweet chaos, and Nathaniel, her gentle peace. There were Morgan and Jon, living examples that on the other side of the darkest day of your life, there was freedom to be claimed.
And there was Libby, the stowaway, who, in herself, knew chaos and peace. Fear and love. Sadness and power. Anger and how it felt to be protected by a real man.
Who escaped because she could, and embraced the life she knew was waiting.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Stowaway: Chapter 9
Lucky and Bert are my heroes. They found Liam in his room at the Stowe Mountain Lodge. He apparently confessed to assaulting me and then asked for a lawyer. I don’t know what will happen, but hope there won’t be a trial. That’s the last thing I need. I hurt. I look like a prizefighter with my nose and eyes bruised and swollen. CJ got to go spend the night with Jon and Morgan watching pirate movies. Cary says I’m not missing anything, but I wish I was there.
When Christian got to Jon and Morgan’s house, Morgan drew a pirate-moustache and beard on him. Jon gave him a fake pirate’s earring and an eye patch. They didn’t say hi, they said “Ahoy!” They made newspaper hats and treasure maps out of regular paper crumpled up, dipped in coffee and dried with a hairdryer.
While he and Morgan were busy, Jon was making a pirates ship out of millions of big boxes. It started in the back hallway, went through the kitchen and ended in the living room. He put fake scary things inside like skulls and crossbones; a fake furry mouse and a piece of old rope.
“Arrr! Me hit the mother load, matey!” Jon said loudly, scratching his belly. He had colored in his scar, and Morgan drew a brown beard on him.
“Shiver me timbers! Smartly, matey!” Morgan said, and she and Christian joined Jon at the computer.
“Yer pirate-name shall be…” Jon eyed Morgan in her pirate hat with long black hair attached. “…Tax-Evadin’ Shannon Dregg, me beauty!”
“Aye-aye, Captain!” Tax-Evadin’ Shannon Dregg answered, sounding like a man.
“And yer name little scallywag…Paraplegic Hank Drake!” Jon announced, jabbing Christian with his pirate-sword.
Christian peeked out of his eye patch. “Arrr! What about yerself, Cap’n?”
Jon typed some more, moving his own eye patch to see. Then, he turned and smiled a scary smile, showing creepy yellow teeth. “Meself be called Smilin’ Ron Scabb!”
“Hoist the colors, Paraplegic Hank Drake!” Smilin’ Ron Scabb yelled, and Christian took off for their ship. He had to find the flag and raise it smartly; otherwise, he would have to walk the plank. He watched enough pirate movies to know what happened then.
It turned out, even though Smilin’ Ron Scabb was a mean captain with gross teeth, Tax-Evadin’ Shannon Dregg was nice. She would sneak him goldfish crackers when Smilin’ wasn’t looking.
“Time to look for the treasure, me hearties!” Smilin’ Ron Scabb announced.
“Avast, mate, Scabb be a land-lubber. Ye stick with me,” Shannon Dregg mumbled under her breath. “We’ll find the treasure.”
The treasure was marked right on their map with a big red X. That’s where the ship opened up right in front of the TV. And when they got there, Smilin’ Ron Scabb turned on Pirates of the Caribbean and they all hung out in the ship and watched the movie.
“We should watch all three movies!” Christian decided, yawning. They were done being pirates for now, and he was glad. It was hard remembering to talk like a pirate all the time.
“We’ll see,” Morgan said, putting her arm around him.
“Hey! It’s a good thing that you guys invited me over and not Cary. He doesn’t like Johnny Depp…” Christian remembered, snuggling close to Jon and Morgan.
It was cozy there, the three of them lying side-by-side on sleeping bags. Christian fell asleep before Johnny Depp could ask why the rum was gone. Jon snorted, muffling his laughter with his hand.
When the movie ended, Jon crawled out of the ship and walked to the bathroom, with Morgan at his heels. Together, they brushed their teeth, making sure to get all the black crayon off.
“Love you,” Morgan said, leaning in to kiss him.
“Mmm. Love you,” Jon insisted. “You gonna sleep in the ship with the kid?” he asked, smiling.
“Of course. It’s cool to sleep in a pirate ship,” Morgan laughed, taking off her hat and putting it on Jon.
“Night,” he said, laughing.
Morgan crawled back in the cardboard ship, smiling to herself as she saw Christian his arm around the bowl of goldfish, eye patch and hat askew. His silver earring was still in place, and his moustache and beard remained in tact.
Quietly, Morgan took out her phone, and aimed its camera at Christian, taking his picture. She was about to send it to Jess, when Christian spoke.
“I want a pirate party…” he mumbled, barely stirring.
“Yeah, we just had a fun one, didn’t we?” Morgan whispered.
Christian’s face scrunched up, angry. “No…I want a pirate birthday party,” he said, clear as day.
“Oh,” Morgan said, understanding. “Okay, I’ll tell your mom. You don’t worry about it,” she reassured, typing a message to Jess:
OMG, check out CJ tonight. And? He just talked in his sleep and told me he wants a pirate party on his birthday. Jon and I can help you plan. How’s Libby?
Moments later, Morgan’s screen lit up:
1 Text message
From: Jess Walker
Dec 3 11:10 PM
SO precious. I love him. OK. We will need your help and pirate expertise. Libby is fine. Just gave her more Tylenol. Sleeping, like I should be, but don’t want to leave alone.
--
Liam had not been able to stop shaking. He barely escaped in time to avoid the little kid finding him. Now, he was all over the news. Not the publicity Liam wanted. He wanted people to think of him as someone inspirational. He wanted to people to think of him as a man of God. Instead, the whole world knew what a monster he was. He was almost arrested. He had to ask for a lawyer. Thank God, everybody in charge had mercy and it wasn’t going to trial. Anger-management and community service would be hard, but it was the deal he had to make to stay out of jail. Liam would do anything to stay out of jail.
As soon as he had gotten back to his room, Liam had called his parents. He was a wreck, but tried to collect himself for the call. Liam did his best to make the incident sound as minor as possible, so his parents wouldn’t think he was a horrible person, but they had already seen the news.
He begged them to come and pick him up. There was no way he could board a plane and take a two-hour flight home, knowing that every single person was staring at him, and recognized his face as the man from Backward Glance, who went crazy and beat his sister. It was so humiliating. However, his dad wouldn’t give him a chance to explain. Liam didn’t get to tell him anything about how hard these last two weeks had been for him. Liam didn’t get to explain that it wasn’t his fault. Libby just made him so mad that he couldn’t control himself. No, his dad hadn’t listened at all. He just insisted that Liam call Libby personally and apologize.
Liam sat on the edge of his unmade bed, wincing as his sore hand contracted. He pushed the number one on his phone - Libby’s new number on speed dial - and waited.
--
“Liam?” Libby asked, swallowing. “Where are you?”
It scared the crap out of her to see his number on her phone. Libby hadn’t given it to him since she had it changed. She needed to know what he was thinking, and what he was planning. She needed to know if Liam was close enough to hurt her.
“Dad’s making me call and apologize,” Liam sniffled.
Painfully, Libby shifted in the doublewide recliner. This was her favorite piece of furniture in Jess and Coby’s house, because had enough room for two people. That meant Nathaniel got to sit close to her, but not close enough to jostle her. Currently, he had his head inclined toward the phone, and was listening, an unreadable expression on his face.
“Are you kidding me?” Libby managed, her heart still pounding with anxiety. Liam sounded like a child, forced to apologize without remorse. Pain shot through her head, her face and arm. “You’re calling because Dad made you? You beat me, Liam! Don’t you think that’s wrong at all?”
“Well, I wouldn’t have done it, if you had just come with me!” Liam objected. “Why did you leave? Do you hate me that much that you would leave me all alone? We’re family, Libby! Do you know how much it hurt me when you left? And then, to find out that you were never planning to come back? What was I supposed to do? You just hit me with that, out of nowhere!”
Jess rushed in then, having heard Liam’s name. “Give me the phone,” she whispered a look of fury on her pretty face.
“This was not my fault!” Libby exclaimed, ignoring Jess, tears burning in her eyes. “You losing control is not my fault! That’s about you! I…hate you…” she managed, her voice breaking. “How could you do this to me?”
Libby could feel Nathaniel put his arm around her gently. He whispered, “It’s not your fault,” so softly in her ear that it threatened to break her down completely.
“Come on…” Liam protested softly. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. Libby, I’m sorry, okay? Do you forgive me? I need you to forgive me.”
Libby just cried, as much from physical pain as from Liam’s complete lack of remorse. He wasn’t sorry for what he did. Not for calling her names, beating her up, or trying to make her a victim. He was only apologizing now for making her cry. There was no use in trying to reason with him. There was no use in anything.
“Okay,” Jess interjected, taking the phone calmly. Libby watched through tears as Jess unexpectedly tossed it to Coby. Then, Jess wrapped Libby in a quiet embrace.
“You don’t need to do anything you’re not ready for,” Jess told her. “Coby and I will take care of your phone calls from now on, okay? We’ll look out for you.”
--
Nathaniel excused himself and lingered in the doorway of the kitchen, close enough to hear Coby’s hushed voice as he reamed Liam out, and Liam‘s own voice, on the other end of the call. Nate watched as Coby paced back and forth, clenching one fist and pounding the counter top periodically.
“My dad wanted me to call her! I didn’t to it to purposely upset her!” Liam complained.
“I don’t give a damn what your dad said, Liam…” Coby insisted.
“Well, you should. It’s the truth! I‘m always the bad guy. Did you notice that? Even when I try to do something good. Does it matter? No! Everybody still takes her side over mine! You‘re always going to take Jess‘s side or Morgan‘s side, or Libby‘s side or that kid‘s side, or anybody‘s side, but mine!” Liam vented. “It’s not fair! The only thing I’m guilty of is giving the devil a foothold!”
Coby clenched his jaw tightly. “We’re taking out a restraining order, and that’s a promise. I can’t believe I ever let you around my wife. And that kid is my son. He saved Libby’s life. He’s more of a man at seven than you’ll ever be.”
Liam sighed exaggeratedly. “Oh, they were perfectly safe around me! See? Always on trial. This is exactly what I’m talking about.”
“What do you mean, ‘They were perfectly safe?’” Coby exclaimed, trying to keep his voice down. He could still hear Jess in the living room, comforting Libby. “You could have killed your sister! Raising a hand to anyone, especially a woman, is crossing the line.”
“Do you think I don’t know that? I’m not stupid, man! I know it’s wrong! I’m just saying, it wasn’t me in there! It was like something else had control of me. Dark forces. Don’t you believe in the devil? He is just as real as God is. This is none of your business anyway! It’s a family business. So, you and your wife and your kid can butt out!”
“You came into my house and did this. That makes it my business,” Coby maintained calmly.
“Tell Libby to get her stuff together. We’re going home. I’ll take that cargo van,” Liam decided.
“No. You know what? Libby’s not coming home with you. She’ll never come home with you, because she’s family. And that cargo van is Emily’s. You have no right to it.”
“Newsflash. Libby’s my sister, not yours. You don’t have a right to say what goes on in her life. I do,” Liam said, his tone smug.
Coby clenched his fist, but kept his voice level. “Family doesn’t beat family within an inch of their lives. You are not family. You’re an asshole, and if you come near her, I’ll make sure your ass is rotting in a cell. That’s a promise. Don’t come near us again. Any of us,” Coby ground out. “Libby’s not a possession, she’s a human being, and it’s time you treated her with the respect she deserves.”
“Oh my gosh! You’re talking to me like I’m some guy who beats his wife or something! This was one time! She pissed me off! After what happened with Morgan, I couldn’t just let Libby go away and kill herself too. Libby made me do it! She didn’t listen to reason. She was asking for it. So, as far as I’m concerned, she got what she deserved.”
Coby hung up then. He didn’t trust himself not to say something he would regret, or follow through on a promise to beat Liam the way Liam hurt Libby. Coby took a deep breath and turned to see Nathaniel in the doorway.
“Did he believe you?” Nate asked, taking a step forward.
“We’ll see,” Coby sighed.
--
After Libby collected herself, she had no choice but to contact her parents. They had been calling her constantly, since Liam’s picture started showing up on the news, asking if she was okay. Since Nathaniel had yet to leave her side, she had him send a text to her mom saying that she would be on Skype any minute.
Morgan had dropped her laptop off, and said Christian and Jon were cleaning up and “planning his birthday.” Apparently, that involved more talking like pirates, eating leftover Goldfish crackers and singing Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of Rum while cleaning. When Morgan left, Jon was wearing nothing but a pirate hat and jeans. Christian was running around in his underwear, pretending to walk the plank.
She was tired and sore from spending the night in a dishwasher box on the floor, but it had been worth it. When Christian woke up that morning and the first thing he did was smile at her, Morgan knew it had all been worth it. Now, she was dressed, kind of, in sweats and the same shirt she’d slept in. She would have to make sure to get a devotional in with Jon sometime today. The pirate party kind of screwed with things, but Morgan knew she wouldn’t change it. She spent the drive over steeling herself for how Libby would look, and was glad she did. Libby looked like hell. Even worse than the day before, if that were possible. Still, Morgan smiled, and offered her laptop like a gift.
“I thought you could use this, until you can get over to the big one,” Morgan said, gesturing to the desktop behind her. “Here, it has a webcam and everything,” she said, trying to ignore how bad Libby looked this morning. Her poor mother was in for the shock of her life today.
“Thanks,” Libby said. Then she turned to Nate. “Can you talk to Mom first? So she’s kind of prepared?”
Nate nodded. He had spent the night beside her in the recliner, despite Jess keeping vigil in a nearby chair, Emily on the couch, and Coby keeping watch from the kitchen with countless cups of coffee. Cary hadn’t yet surfaced from the basement, where he was doing major overhaul in Libby’s studio, having asked her Nate her favorite colors.
“Hey, Mrs. Wright, it’s Nathaniel,” Nate said, purposely angling the camera toward himself.
She looked tired and sad to Nate, but he had never actually seen her in person. She had Libby’s eyes and hair. Her sweet nature and soft way of speaking. Nate loved her immediately and wished he could reach through the screen and give her a hug. He also wished someone had told him he would be video chatting today, so he could have fixed his hair and cleaned up a little. But at least, Libby’s mom didn’t seem to mind.
“Hi, Nathaniel,” she said, looking stressed. “Please tell me Libby’s there with you.”
“She is. She just wanted me to give you a heads-up. She’s pretty bruised and stuff.”
Slowly, he turned the laptop until Libby’s face filled the camera. “Hi, Mom,” she said, sounding stuffy and tired.
Libby heard her mom’s gasp, and wasn’t surprised at all. If it was possible, she looked worse than yesterday, with bad bruising under both eyes, a swollen nose and her arms wrapped up. She was glad the rest of the damage could be covered up. Libby looked horrible.
“I’m so sorry he did this…” her mom wept.
“It’s not your fault,” Libby told her.
“He called, wanting Dad and I to pick him up in Vermont, because his face was all over TV there, but we wouldn’t. Not after he told us what he did. I just can’t believe he hurt you like this, baby. I’m so sorry. Do you want me to come out? Do you need anything?”
Libby shook her head, the act making her dizzy. “I’m okay. Everybody’s taking good care of me.”
“Okay, well you get some rest and I’ll get in touch with you later.”
“Love you,” Libby said, and closed her eyes.
--
Liam was feeling the worst he had ever felt. It was worse than when all his former friends and Libby were attacked. Worse than when he worked in the slums of Mexico. He supposed he deserved the humiliation, but he also thought that he deserved one break in his life. His parents were always there for him, and now, all of a sudden, they weren’t. It crushed Liam’s world. He felt like he not only had no way home, but no family either. As if his parents’ absence wasn’t enough of a reminder, Liam also had his swollen hand.
He had been right about Libby giving him a disease. The mark on his hand was oozing pus and looked disgusting. But Liam knew he didn’t deserve medical care after the way he treated Libby. So he just let it fester and watched all the sin on TV, wishing he was at his home church, so he could confess his sin and be forgiven. This place only had one church and everybody there knew Libby and loved her. Everybody there would hate him.
So, he had hung around town a few extra days. He stayed in his room for days, ignoring the phone. Ignoring the door. He cried himself to sleep. He barely ate. Now, it was Friday again. A whole week had passed since things had gone so inexcusably wrong with Libby. He hoped she was okay. He hoped she could forgive him.
He would do anything if she would just forgive him. He would stand there and let Libby beat him up if she wanted to. He would take it and not fight back. He could do that one thing. But there was something else too, though it had taken him awhile to think of it.
After mulling it over for a while, Liam decided the only thing he could do was go see her. He had to be a man and apologize to her face. The plan to apologize over the phone hadn’t gone well, with Libby breaking down in tears, and Coby threatening to take out a restraining order. So, Liam would just drive over when Coby wasn’t there.
However, he wasn’t counting on Emily’s van being parked in the driveway either. He wanted to talk to Libby alone. Liam sighed. It was just as well. He might as well apologize to her, too. Libby was her best friend. Slowly, he got out of the car and trudged up the driveway, his head down. When he got to the door, he knocked and waited, knowing they didn’t have to let him in if they didn’t want to.
Emily answered the door. Her eyes were fiery and she looked at Liam as if she wanted to kill him.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she exclaimed, pulling the door firmly shut behind her.
--
Inside, Libby’s heart leaped into her throat. She never thought he would have the guts to show up here again, especially after he called to apologize. It made her sick to think about.
Though she didn’t want to, she crept down the stairs to stand behind the door to listen, as everything, Liam said and did came back to her. Moments like this, she was glad that Jon had paid for Libby to have a session from the same counselor he and Morgan saw. In fact, he gave up his own next session for her. Now, Libby couldn’t wait to go, and get all this crap out of her.
More than anything, his words hurt the worst. Him calling her a whore, and telling her he had known all these years about her abuse as a child and hadn’t done a thing, but instead blamed her. Those words had threatened to break her, but Libby held on tight, her fingers digging into everything she knew to be true. She talked to her friends, without telling them specifics.
Repeatedly, from Emily and Nate, Cary and Jess, Coby and Jonathan, Morgan and even Christian told her that she wasn’t to blame. It was Liam’s fault, not hers. Hearing it helped, but she needed to talk about it. But until then, she watched, shocked as Emily waited for Liam to speak.
--
Emily stood there, with wet hair and a bright orange shirt. To Liam, she looked like a witch. The way she just stared at him with her unblinking eyes, waiting for a response. She didn’t feel one bit of sympathy for him. He knew he looked pathetically miserable with red eyes, and hunched shoulders. He didn’t have a coat. He didn’t have shoes. Or a hat. Just a wrinkled gray tee shirt and athletic pants. His right hand was leaking nasty-looking yellow pus, where Libby bit him, and Emily and her witch-self probably couldn’t help but feel glad. It was her personality.
“I came to apologize. I wanted to tell Libby that I’m sorry, and you, too. I went off my anti-depressants and, I guess, that’s what happened…” he mumbled, not looking her in the eye. That had to help. It had to do something. Liam was sick enough to throw up right now and Emily wasn’t being forgiving at all. Didn’t she know how hard this was for him?
This was horrible. Way worse than he thought. Why wouldn’t she just let him in to talk to Libby? That would make it easier. It wasn’t as if he was dumb enough to make the same mistake twice. He would say he was sorry, and then he would leave. That was it. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and his teeth chattered. He would probably catch pneumonia out here on the step with Emily not even letting him inside.
“You don’t take anti-depressants, asshole! You didn’t believe depression was a real medical condition the last I heard!” Emily put her hands on her hips. “Now, if you don’t get your coward ass off this property, I’m calling the cops! Did you forget your sister took out a restraining order against you?!” Emily didn’t care. Let the neighborhood hear that he was breaking the law. Then maybe they would run him out of town.
“I didn’t believe in it until I got it myself,” Liam defended. “And I understand now. It’s horrible. But I didn’t know that going off them would be horrible, too. I was not myself at all, and I don’t know what happened! I just went crazy and the devil took control of me.” Liam realized that after the last week of praying. He was usually so close to God that he didn’t give the devil a foothold, but he had taken his eyes off the prize, and started backsliding without even knowing it. He was the biggest sinner ever.
“I’ll tell you what happened!” Emily exclaimed. “You stalked us, to know when we wouldn’t be home. You got Libby alone, and then you tried to force her to do what you wanted. And when she stood up for herself? When she told you no? You beat her. You kicked her and punched her and threw her into a mirror! Then, just to make sure you wouldn’t be implicated, you taped her mouth shut! She had a split lip and a broken nose. Do you have any idea how hard it was for her to breathe? How much it hurt when the cops took that off?”
“I know! I’m a horrible person! I made a mistake and I need to be punished! I already talked to a lawyer and he said there probably won‘t be a trial, since I confessed. He suggested a plea bargain and I went with that. He says I can probably get deferred adjudication since I don’t have a record and this was my first offense and I’m a respected member of the community,” Liam hurried to explain when Emily narrowed her eyes.
“I don’t care!” Emily exclaimed. “Just shut up and get out of here!”
“I just wanted to apologize and make things right. I’m sick about this. I haven’t been able to sleep for a week. Can you please just tell her I’m sorry and I love her? I can’t live like this. My own parents won’t help me. It’s just a good thing that God’s mercy is so big, because I need a lot of it right now. Anger-management is going to be so humbling.”
Emily didn’t know what infuriated her more. Liam having the gall to come around and tell her how he was suffering after the way he assaulted Libby. The lying about the anti-depressants. The feel-sorry-for-me mantra or the talk about how humbling anger-management would be. She tucked her own hands in her pockets so she wouldn’t feel the need to use them, and wring his neck.
“You are a spineless little worm,” she told him lowly. “I don’t care what your excuse is for what you did. Because I have news for you. It’s not good enough! There is never a reason or excuse to raise a hand to another person, especially a woman, and especially your little sister! Now you get out of here, and don’t even think of coming back, or I’m calling Bert and Lucky, and telling them you’re in violation of your restraining order.”
Emily slammed the door and glared at Liam through the peephole until he got in his car and disappeared down the road.
--
“Thanks,” Libby said from behind her, and Emily jumped.
“Jeez, woman! Scare me to death! What are you doing? Come on, sit down,” Emily encouraged, putting an arm around Libby’s shoulder and leading her back to the couch.
Libby hated that Liam had the power to freak her out so much that she was shaking, but she couldn’t help it. Emily sat down and put an arm around her shoulders gently.
She was healing. The bruises were turning green and yellow instead of the angry black and purple they had been in the beginning. Her arm was out of its sling, and her nose looked better. But both forearms still bore deep cuts that would most likely scar. She would have smaller ones on her face, as well.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to fight him off,” Emily apologized. Libby would probably never know just how guilty Emily felt for not having been there. She knew how crazy Liam had been getting and still let her go home by herself. She was regularly haunted by the thought of what might have happened if Christian hadn’t come home when he did.
Libby shrugged. “It’s fine. Besides, you were here this time and that’s what matters. I just hate this whole thing. I hate that the cops are letting him off so easy. That he has such a power over me. That I just barely got over one trauma to have him hit me with another one.”
Emily looked at her sadly. “You’re strong, though. You fought back. You said no. You did everything right.” she felt like she said this countless times but she would say it as many times as Libby needed to hear it.
“I miss church,” Libby pouted, “But I can’t go in there looking like this. I’d scare the kids.” Libby said to herself.
“You don’t scare Christian,” Emily pointed out. “And hey, everybody at church is asking about you. They want to know if you’ll be well enough for the program next week.”
“The Messiah Sing, I wouldn’t miss it. And I better get back in church,” she sighed. “I need it.”
“Come Sunday, if you’re up to it,” Emily invited. “I’ll take you home early, myself, if you’re not up to staying the whole time.”
Libby smiled, satisfied, leaning against Emily’s shoulder.
She fell asleep in no time and dreamed, for the first time since the previous Friday, of nothing at all.
--
Church was held at 8:30 in the morning, two days later, and Libby almost decided against going when she realized a few things. First, it hurt to move. It hurt more to shower. And it hurt to get dressed. It hurt to do pretty much anything. Since she had spent much of the previous week lying around doing nothing, Libby hadn’t fully appreciated that fact. But she knew she had to get up and going sometime, and church was good incentive. Libby loved the people there. She missed them.
Jess let Libby ride in the front seat of the car, while Coby, Christian and Emily all sat in back.
“Dad’s pirate name is Puffy Shirt Stu,” Christian passed along, laughing. By now, his pirate party was imminent, and he and Jonathan spent every spare moment looking up everyone’s pirate name with the pirate name generator online.
“That’s nice, honey,” Jess said to Coby, smiling. “Maybe we should play pirates.”
Christian wrinkled his nose. “That’s gross, Mom. I totally know what you’re talking about, and it’s gross.”
“How do you know what we’re talking about?” Jess challenged lightly, keeping her eyes on the road.
“Because, there’s not that many things that grown-ups do for fun. It’s kind of easy to figure out.”
Libby laughed, trying not to, because it still hurt everything in her body. To block out the humor, she put on her I-Pod.
“What’s my pirate name?” Jess wanted to know, once Libby was listening to her music. Jess felt a little bad, but knew that Libby would be laughing with them again in no time.
“Yours is…” Christian said, referring to his journalist style notepad, following the list with his pencil. “Not-So-Keen-On-The-Women-Folk…” Christian shoved the paper at Emily to have her read the last word.
“…Gertrude!” Emily announced, as they were pulling into the parking lot.
“All right. Leave the pirate list in the car. Christian, walk with Mom and Emily. I’ll walk with Libby,” Coby said. Part of this was to reinforce manners that Christian already had, and part of it was because the parking lot was so icy, and the last thing any of them needed, especially Libby, was to fall and add another injury to the list.
“Okay, are you all right?” holding firmly onto Libby’s shoulders, knowing that her arms were still sore.
“Yeah, I got it,” Libby said, dragging air between her teeth. It hurt to be tense about as bad as it hurt to laugh, but Libby was determined to make it.
Up ahead, she saw Morgan and Jon, Cary and Nate greeting Christian, Jess and Emily. Libby just hoped nobody would try to hug her or touch her unexpectedly. However, she figured with Coby there, she had a good chance of being okay.
--
“He doesn’t even have anti-depressants!” Morgan was whispering indignantly, sitting in a pew. “Seriously. I would know. He was bone dry. Wouldn’t even take Tylenol for a headache, she told Emily.
“That’s what I said. I don’t think he’s right in the head. Like, at all. I mean, anybody who thinks restraining order is code for drag-your-butt-to-the-house-and-try-to-apologize…” Emily trailed off, spinning one finger beside her head in a crazy sign.
They fell quiet as Libby came in, supported by Coby.
--
Libby was finally settled in a back pew near the door. The pastor had already come to speak with her personally, despite the fact that it meant his service would be pushed back. Libby had asked that a big deal not be made out of her return, but thanked him for his prayers. “They mean a lot and they really helped,” she said.
There was so much to love about this church. It was small, and personal. She knew and trusted everybody. The message and the music were always so positive and left her feeling lighter, not heavier like her home church. Libby loved the red cushions on the pews, the simple look, and just everything about it. It felt like home. And, she thought, remembering Nate’s painting, like peace.
She smiled as Nate came to sit beside her, in a beautiful wine-colored shirt that reminded her of the robe she had seen him in when they first met. Beside Nate on the opposite side, sat Cary, dressed in dark green. Both men wore black pants and looked so handsome. Instead of teasing them with a joke about how Christmas was still a couple weeks away, she told them both they looked nice.
They looked at her and then at each other, smiling.
Libby still thought it was the coolest thing that though Cary wasn’t a Christian, he came to church with Nathaniel once a month. It was the most romantic thing Libby had ever heard of. Love in action, to an awesome extent. She didn’t know any Christians from her home church who would even dare marry outside their own religion, much less go out of their way to show respect for the other’s religion of choice.
Down the pew, Coby sat with his arm around Jess. Christian sat between them, pink shoelaces in his sneakers, in a pristine white button down shirt and blue jeans. Coby wore slacks and a blue dress shirt and Jess in corresponding black jeans and a blue baggy sweater, her hair loose around her shoulders. Libby loved it when they matched.
Emily had put on gray pants and a matching blazer and a bright pink shirt beneath. Her hair was back in a French braid. She wore gold heart earrings and heels. Libby wasn’t wearing anything that Liam would approve of as church attire, but she didn’t care. Sweats were comfortable, and Jess’s were even a little roomier, so that Libby didn’t feel constricted. They were comfortable dark blue sweatpants and a gray sweatshirt that said I’M THE BOSS in tiny blue letters on the right side.
Morgan was looking super cute in her pink Abercrombie shirt, black undershirt and black jeans. She didn’t have enough hair to pull back, but she wore subtle makeup. Lipstick and green eye shadow that made Libby think of Nathaniel’s parrot costume. Jonathan was dressed in a white tee shirt that read JESUS IS MY HOMEBOY, with a gray open sweater, black dress pants and fancy shoes. Libby wasn’t sure if he had been in a rush that morning, or if he just felt like wearing the tee shirt.
Libby paid attention as the service started, grateful for the simple message: Love your neighbor. She listened, as Nathaniel slid his hand into hers, offering support, and she squeezed.
Afterward, Christian wove his way through the small groups of people, saying “Ahoy! God bless you!” and finally made it to Libby.
“Hey, you,” she greeted, trying not to show that she was hurting. She was sitting in another chair near the door, hoping her friends might take the hint that she was ready to leave.
“I got you an éclair. They were for the visitors, but you’re back after a long time, so I asked, and the pastor said that you counted.”
Libby smiled, remembering a time in college, years ago. Actually, it had been just before the attack. Monday Madness was at their apartment and Jess had made éclairs for dinner. Christian had been little. Probably only four at the time, and Libby had sneaked into the kitchen when Jess’s back was turned, and took one, sharing it with Christian. It was a sweet memory. The last sweet memory, before everything went dark.
“Thanks,” Libby said. “You want to share?” she asked.
His face broke into a huge grin, showing off a gap that hadn’t been there before. It was a top tooth. A front one. “I was hoping you’d say that!” he said, breaking the dessert carefully in half and giving her part.
“Did you lose another tooth when I wasn’t looking?” she asked. He seemed to be losing teeth faster than she thought possible. Now, he had a huge gap on top, and an adorable lisp to go with it.
“Yep!” he nodded, taking a big bite. “It fell out when Morgan pulled it.”
“Ouch. I would never let Morgan pull my teeth. My brother used to tie a string to the door and the other end to my tooth. Then, he slammed the door.”
Christian shrugged going quiet. “Liam’s a butt-face,” he said darkly. “Morgan just yanked it out softly. It didn’t even hurt.”
“Yeah, he is,” Libby agreed. “But he can’t bother me anymore. Because it’s against the law for him to.”
“Yeah, well it’s against the law to hit anyway, but he still did that,” Christian said, licking some cream out of the middle.
Libby patted her lap and Christian climbed carefully into it. “You know you’re my favorite?” she asked seriously.
“Mm-hm, and you’re mine. Let’s do pirate art sometime, okay?” he said. “Like, you tell me what do draw and I’ll draw it. And when your arms are better we’ll switch.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Libby said, planting a kiss on his forehead.
When Christian got to Jon and Morgan’s house, Morgan drew a pirate-moustache and beard on him. Jon gave him a fake pirate’s earring and an eye patch. They didn’t say hi, they said “Ahoy!” They made newspaper hats and treasure maps out of regular paper crumpled up, dipped in coffee and dried with a hairdryer.
While he and Morgan were busy, Jon was making a pirates ship out of millions of big boxes. It started in the back hallway, went through the kitchen and ended in the living room. He put fake scary things inside like skulls and crossbones; a fake furry mouse and a piece of old rope.
“Arrr! Me hit the mother load, matey!” Jon said loudly, scratching his belly. He had colored in his scar, and Morgan drew a brown beard on him.
“Shiver me timbers! Smartly, matey!” Morgan said, and she and Christian joined Jon at the computer.
“Yer pirate-name shall be…” Jon eyed Morgan in her pirate hat with long black hair attached. “…Tax-Evadin’ Shannon Dregg, me beauty!”
“Aye-aye, Captain!” Tax-Evadin’ Shannon Dregg answered, sounding like a man.
“And yer name little scallywag…Paraplegic Hank Drake!” Jon announced, jabbing Christian with his pirate-sword.
Christian peeked out of his eye patch. “Arrr! What about yerself, Cap’n?”
Jon typed some more, moving his own eye patch to see. Then, he turned and smiled a scary smile, showing creepy yellow teeth. “Meself be called Smilin’ Ron Scabb!”
“Hoist the colors, Paraplegic Hank Drake!” Smilin’ Ron Scabb yelled, and Christian took off for their ship. He had to find the flag and raise it smartly; otherwise, he would have to walk the plank. He watched enough pirate movies to know what happened then.
It turned out, even though Smilin’ Ron Scabb was a mean captain with gross teeth, Tax-Evadin’ Shannon Dregg was nice. She would sneak him goldfish crackers when Smilin’ wasn’t looking.
“Time to look for the treasure, me hearties!” Smilin’ Ron Scabb announced.
“Avast, mate, Scabb be a land-lubber. Ye stick with me,” Shannon Dregg mumbled under her breath. “We’ll find the treasure.”
The treasure was marked right on their map with a big red X. That’s where the ship opened up right in front of the TV. And when they got there, Smilin’ Ron Scabb turned on Pirates of the Caribbean and they all hung out in the ship and watched the movie.
“We should watch all three movies!” Christian decided, yawning. They were done being pirates for now, and he was glad. It was hard remembering to talk like a pirate all the time.
“We’ll see,” Morgan said, putting her arm around him.
“Hey! It’s a good thing that you guys invited me over and not Cary. He doesn’t like Johnny Depp…” Christian remembered, snuggling close to Jon and Morgan.
It was cozy there, the three of them lying side-by-side on sleeping bags. Christian fell asleep before Johnny Depp could ask why the rum was gone. Jon snorted, muffling his laughter with his hand.
When the movie ended, Jon crawled out of the ship and walked to the bathroom, with Morgan at his heels. Together, they brushed their teeth, making sure to get all the black crayon off.
“Love you,” Morgan said, leaning in to kiss him.
“Mmm. Love you,” Jon insisted. “You gonna sleep in the ship with the kid?” he asked, smiling.
“Of course. It’s cool to sleep in a pirate ship,” Morgan laughed, taking off her hat and putting it on Jon.
“Night,” he said, laughing.
Morgan crawled back in the cardboard ship, smiling to herself as she saw Christian his arm around the bowl of goldfish, eye patch and hat askew. His silver earring was still in place, and his moustache and beard remained in tact.
Quietly, Morgan took out her phone, and aimed its camera at Christian, taking his picture. She was about to send it to Jess, when Christian spoke.
“I want a pirate party…” he mumbled, barely stirring.
“Yeah, we just had a fun one, didn’t we?” Morgan whispered.
Christian’s face scrunched up, angry. “No…I want a pirate birthday party,” he said, clear as day.
“Oh,” Morgan said, understanding. “Okay, I’ll tell your mom. You don’t worry about it,” she reassured, typing a message to Jess:
OMG, check out CJ tonight. And? He just talked in his sleep and told me he wants a pirate party on his birthday. Jon and I can help you plan. How’s Libby?
Moments later, Morgan’s screen lit up:
1 Text message
From: Jess Walker
Dec 3 11:10 PM
SO precious. I love him. OK. We will need your help and pirate expertise. Libby is fine. Just gave her more Tylenol. Sleeping, like I should be, but don’t want to leave alone.
--
Liam had not been able to stop shaking. He barely escaped in time to avoid the little kid finding him. Now, he was all over the news. Not the publicity Liam wanted. He wanted people to think of him as someone inspirational. He wanted to people to think of him as a man of God. Instead, the whole world knew what a monster he was. He was almost arrested. He had to ask for a lawyer. Thank God, everybody in charge had mercy and it wasn’t going to trial. Anger-management and community service would be hard, but it was the deal he had to make to stay out of jail. Liam would do anything to stay out of jail.
As soon as he had gotten back to his room, Liam had called his parents. He was a wreck, but tried to collect himself for the call. Liam did his best to make the incident sound as minor as possible, so his parents wouldn’t think he was a horrible person, but they had already seen the news.
He begged them to come and pick him up. There was no way he could board a plane and take a two-hour flight home, knowing that every single person was staring at him, and recognized his face as the man from Backward Glance, who went crazy and beat his sister. It was so humiliating. However, his dad wouldn’t give him a chance to explain. Liam didn’t get to tell him anything about how hard these last two weeks had been for him. Liam didn’t get to explain that it wasn’t his fault. Libby just made him so mad that he couldn’t control himself. No, his dad hadn’t listened at all. He just insisted that Liam call Libby personally and apologize.
Liam sat on the edge of his unmade bed, wincing as his sore hand contracted. He pushed the number one on his phone - Libby’s new number on speed dial - and waited.
--
“Liam?” Libby asked, swallowing. “Where are you?”
It scared the crap out of her to see his number on her phone. Libby hadn’t given it to him since she had it changed. She needed to know what he was thinking, and what he was planning. She needed to know if Liam was close enough to hurt her.
“Dad’s making me call and apologize,” Liam sniffled.
Painfully, Libby shifted in the doublewide recliner. This was her favorite piece of furniture in Jess and Coby’s house, because had enough room for two people. That meant Nathaniel got to sit close to her, but not close enough to jostle her. Currently, he had his head inclined toward the phone, and was listening, an unreadable expression on his face.
“Are you kidding me?” Libby managed, her heart still pounding with anxiety. Liam sounded like a child, forced to apologize without remorse. Pain shot through her head, her face and arm. “You’re calling because Dad made you? You beat me, Liam! Don’t you think that’s wrong at all?”
“Well, I wouldn’t have done it, if you had just come with me!” Liam objected. “Why did you leave? Do you hate me that much that you would leave me all alone? We’re family, Libby! Do you know how much it hurt me when you left? And then, to find out that you were never planning to come back? What was I supposed to do? You just hit me with that, out of nowhere!”
Jess rushed in then, having heard Liam’s name. “Give me the phone,” she whispered a look of fury on her pretty face.
“This was not my fault!” Libby exclaimed, ignoring Jess, tears burning in her eyes. “You losing control is not my fault! That’s about you! I…hate you…” she managed, her voice breaking. “How could you do this to me?”
Libby could feel Nathaniel put his arm around her gently. He whispered, “It’s not your fault,” so softly in her ear that it threatened to break her down completely.
“Come on…” Liam protested softly. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. Libby, I’m sorry, okay? Do you forgive me? I need you to forgive me.”
Libby just cried, as much from physical pain as from Liam’s complete lack of remorse. He wasn’t sorry for what he did. Not for calling her names, beating her up, or trying to make her a victim. He was only apologizing now for making her cry. There was no use in trying to reason with him. There was no use in anything.
“Okay,” Jess interjected, taking the phone calmly. Libby watched through tears as Jess unexpectedly tossed it to Coby. Then, Jess wrapped Libby in a quiet embrace.
“You don’t need to do anything you’re not ready for,” Jess told her. “Coby and I will take care of your phone calls from now on, okay? We’ll look out for you.”
--
Nathaniel excused himself and lingered in the doorway of the kitchen, close enough to hear Coby’s hushed voice as he reamed Liam out, and Liam‘s own voice, on the other end of the call. Nate watched as Coby paced back and forth, clenching one fist and pounding the counter top periodically.
“My dad wanted me to call her! I didn’t to it to purposely upset her!” Liam complained.
“I don’t give a damn what your dad said, Liam…” Coby insisted.
“Well, you should. It’s the truth! I‘m always the bad guy. Did you notice that? Even when I try to do something good. Does it matter? No! Everybody still takes her side over mine! You‘re always going to take Jess‘s side or Morgan‘s side, or Libby‘s side or that kid‘s side, or anybody‘s side, but mine!” Liam vented. “It’s not fair! The only thing I’m guilty of is giving the devil a foothold!”
Coby clenched his jaw tightly. “We’re taking out a restraining order, and that’s a promise. I can’t believe I ever let you around my wife. And that kid is my son. He saved Libby’s life. He’s more of a man at seven than you’ll ever be.”
Liam sighed exaggeratedly. “Oh, they were perfectly safe around me! See? Always on trial. This is exactly what I’m talking about.”
“What do you mean, ‘They were perfectly safe?’” Coby exclaimed, trying to keep his voice down. He could still hear Jess in the living room, comforting Libby. “You could have killed your sister! Raising a hand to anyone, especially a woman, is crossing the line.”
“Do you think I don’t know that? I’m not stupid, man! I know it’s wrong! I’m just saying, it wasn’t me in there! It was like something else had control of me. Dark forces. Don’t you believe in the devil? He is just as real as God is. This is none of your business anyway! It’s a family business. So, you and your wife and your kid can butt out!”
“You came into my house and did this. That makes it my business,” Coby maintained calmly.
“Tell Libby to get her stuff together. We’re going home. I’ll take that cargo van,” Liam decided.
“No. You know what? Libby’s not coming home with you. She’ll never come home with you, because she’s family. And that cargo van is Emily’s. You have no right to it.”
“Newsflash. Libby’s my sister, not yours. You don’t have a right to say what goes on in her life. I do,” Liam said, his tone smug.
Coby clenched his fist, but kept his voice level. “Family doesn’t beat family within an inch of their lives. You are not family. You’re an asshole, and if you come near her, I’ll make sure your ass is rotting in a cell. That’s a promise. Don’t come near us again. Any of us,” Coby ground out. “Libby’s not a possession, she’s a human being, and it’s time you treated her with the respect she deserves.”
“Oh my gosh! You’re talking to me like I’m some guy who beats his wife or something! This was one time! She pissed me off! After what happened with Morgan, I couldn’t just let Libby go away and kill herself too. Libby made me do it! She didn’t listen to reason. She was asking for it. So, as far as I’m concerned, she got what she deserved.”
Coby hung up then. He didn’t trust himself not to say something he would regret, or follow through on a promise to beat Liam the way Liam hurt Libby. Coby took a deep breath and turned to see Nathaniel in the doorway.
“Did he believe you?” Nate asked, taking a step forward.
“We’ll see,” Coby sighed.
--
After Libby collected herself, she had no choice but to contact her parents. They had been calling her constantly, since Liam’s picture started showing up on the news, asking if she was okay. Since Nathaniel had yet to leave her side, she had him send a text to her mom saying that she would be on Skype any minute.
Morgan had dropped her laptop off, and said Christian and Jon were cleaning up and “planning his birthday.” Apparently, that involved more talking like pirates, eating leftover Goldfish crackers and singing Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of Rum while cleaning. When Morgan left, Jon was wearing nothing but a pirate hat and jeans. Christian was running around in his underwear, pretending to walk the plank.
She was tired and sore from spending the night in a dishwasher box on the floor, but it had been worth it. When Christian woke up that morning and the first thing he did was smile at her, Morgan knew it had all been worth it. Now, she was dressed, kind of, in sweats and the same shirt she’d slept in. She would have to make sure to get a devotional in with Jon sometime today. The pirate party kind of screwed with things, but Morgan knew she wouldn’t change it. She spent the drive over steeling herself for how Libby would look, and was glad she did. Libby looked like hell. Even worse than the day before, if that were possible. Still, Morgan smiled, and offered her laptop like a gift.
“I thought you could use this, until you can get over to the big one,” Morgan said, gesturing to the desktop behind her. “Here, it has a webcam and everything,” she said, trying to ignore how bad Libby looked this morning. Her poor mother was in for the shock of her life today.
“Thanks,” Libby said. Then she turned to Nate. “Can you talk to Mom first? So she’s kind of prepared?”
Nate nodded. He had spent the night beside her in the recliner, despite Jess keeping vigil in a nearby chair, Emily on the couch, and Coby keeping watch from the kitchen with countless cups of coffee. Cary hadn’t yet surfaced from the basement, where he was doing major overhaul in Libby’s studio, having asked her Nate her favorite colors.
“Hey, Mrs. Wright, it’s Nathaniel,” Nate said, purposely angling the camera toward himself.
She looked tired and sad to Nate, but he had never actually seen her in person. She had Libby’s eyes and hair. Her sweet nature and soft way of speaking. Nate loved her immediately and wished he could reach through the screen and give her a hug. He also wished someone had told him he would be video chatting today, so he could have fixed his hair and cleaned up a little. But at least, Libby’s mom didn’t seem to mind.
“Hi, Nathaniel,” she said, looking stressed. “Please tell me Libby’s there with you.”
“She is. She just wanted me to give you a heads-up. She’s pretty bruised and stuff.”
Slowly, he turned the laptop until Libby’s face filled the camera. “Hi, Mom,” she said, sounding stuffy and tired.
Libby heard her mom’s gasp, and wasn’t surprised at all. If it was possible, she looked worse than yesterday, with bad bruising under both eyes, a swollen nose and her arms wrapped up. She was glad the rest of the damage could be covered up. Libby looked horrible.
“I’m so sorry he did this…” her mom wept.
“It’s not your fault,” Libby told her.
“He called, wanting Dad and I to pick him up in Vermont, because his face was all over TV there, but we wouldn’t. Not after he told us what he did. I just can’t believe he hurt you like this, baby. I’m so sorry. Do you want me to come out? Do you need anything?”
Libby shook her head, the act making her dizzy. “I’m okay. Everybody’s taking good care of me.”
“Okay, well you get some rest and I’ll get in touch with you later.”
“Love you,” Libby said, and closed her eyes.
--
Liam was feeling the worst he had ever felt. It was worse than when all his former friends and Libby were attacked. Worse than when he worked in the slums of Mexico. He supposed he deserved the humiliation, but he also thought that he deserved one break in his life. His parents were always there for him, and now, all of a sudden, they weren’t. It crushed Liam’s world. He felt like he not only had no way home, but no family either. As if his parents’ absence wasn’t enough of a reminder, Liam also had his swollen hand.
He had been right about Libby giving him a disease. The mark on his hand was oozing pus and looked disgusting. But Liam knew he didn’t deserve medical care after the way he treated Libby. So he just let it fester and watched all the sin on TV, wishing he was at his home church, so he could confess his sin and be forgiven. This place only had one church and everybody there knew Libby and loved her. Everybody there would hate him.
So, he had hung around town a few extra days. He stayed in his room for days, ignoring the phone. Ignoring the door. He cried himself to sleep. He barely ate. Now, it was Friday again. A whole week had passed since things had gone so inexcusably wrong with Libby. He hoped she was okay. He hoped she could forgive him.
He would do anything if she would just forgive him. He would stand there and let Libby beat him up if she wanted to. He would take it and not fight back. He could do that one thing. But there was something else too, though it had taken him awhile to think of it.
After mulling it over for a while, Liam decided the only thing he could do was go see her. He had to be a man and apologize to her face. The plan to apologize over the phone hadn’t gone well, with Libby breaking down in tears, and Coby threatening to take out a restraining order. So, Liam would just drive over when Coby wasn’t there.
However, he wasn’t counting on Emily’s van being parked in the driveway either. He wanted to talk to Libby alone. Liam sighed. It was just as well. He might as well apologize to her, too. Libby was her best friend. Slowly, he got out of the car and trudged up the driveway, his head down. When he got to the door, he knocked and waited, knowing they didn’t have to let him in if they didn’t want to.
Emily answered the door. Her eyes were fiery and she looked at Liam as if she wanted to kill him.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she exclaimed, pulling the door firmly shut behind her.
--
Inside, Libby’s heart leaped into her throat. She never thought he would have the guts to show up here again, especially after he called to apologize. It made her sick to think about.
Though she didn’t want to, she crept down the stairs to stand behind the door to listen, as everything, Liam said and did came back to her. Moments like this, she was glad that Jon had paid for Libby to have a session from the same counselor he and Morgan saw. In fact, he gave up his own next session for her. Now, Libby couldn’t wait to go, and get all this crap out of her.
More than anything, his words hurt the worst. Him calling her a whore, and telling her he had known all these years about her abuse as a child and hadn’t done a thing, but instead blamed her. Those words had threatened to break her, but Libby held on tight, her fingers digging into everything she knew to be true. She talked to her friends, without telling them specifics.
Repeatedly, from Emily and Nate, Cary and Jess, Coby and Jonathan, Morgan and even Christian told her that she wasn’t to blame. It was Liam’s fault, not hers. Hearing it helped, but she needed to talk about it. But until then, she watched, shocked as Emily waited for Liam to speak.
--
Emily stood there, with wet hair and a bright orange shirt. To Liam, she looked like a witch. The way she just stared at him with her unblinking eyes, waiting for a response. She didn’t feel one bit of sympathy for him. He knew he looked pathetically miserable with red eyes, and hunched shoulders. He didn’t have a coat. He didn’t have shoes. Or a hat. Just a wrinkled gray tee shirt and athletic pants. His right hand was leaking nasty-looking yellow pus, where Libby bit him, and Emily and her witch-self probably couldn’t help but feel glad. It was her personality.
“I came to apologize. I wanted to tell Libby that I’m sorry, and you, too. I went off my anti-depressants and, I guess, that’s what happened…” he mumbled, not looking her in the eye. That had to help. It had to do something. Liam was sick enough to throw up right now and Emily wasn’t being forgiving at all. Didn’t she know how hard this was for him?
This was horrible. Way worse than he thought. Why wouldn’t she just let him in to talk to Libby? That would make it easier. It wasn’t as if he was dumb enough to make the same mistake twice. He would say he was sorry, and then he would leave. That was it. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and his teeth chattered. He would probably catch pneumonia out here on the step with Emily not even letting him inside.
“You don’t take anti-depressants, asshole! You didn’t believe depression was a real medical condition the last I heard!” Emily put her hands on her hips. “Now, if you don’t get your coward ass off this property, I’m calling the cops! Did you forget your sister took out a restraining order against you?!” Emily didn’t care. Let the neighborhood hear that he was breaking the law. Then maybe they would run him out of town.
“I didn’t believe in it until I got it myself,” Liam defended. “And I understand now. It’s horrible. But I didn’t know that going off them would be horrible, too. I was not myself at all, and I don’t know what happened! I just went crazy and the devil took control of me.” Liam realized that after the last week of praying. He was usually so close to God that he didn’t give the devil a foothold, but he had taken his eyes off the prize, and started backsliding without even knowing it. He was the biggest sinner ever.
“I’ll tell you what happened!” Emily exclaimed. “You stalked us, to know when we wouldn’t be home. You got Libby alone, and then you tried to force her to do what you wanted. And when she stood up for herself? When she told you no? You beat her. You kicked her and punched her and threw her into a mirror! Then, just to make sure you wouldn’t be implicated, you taped her mouth shut! She had a split lip and a broken nose. Do you have any idea how hard it was for her to breathe? How much it hurt when the cops took that off?”
“I know! I’m a horrible person! I made a mistake and I need to be punished! I already talked to a lawyer and he said there probably won‘t be a trial, since I confessed. He suggested a plea bargain and I went with that. He says I can probably get deferred adjudication since I don’t have a record and this was my first offense and I’m a respected member of the community,” Liam hurried to explain when Emily narrowed her eyes.
“I don’t care!” Emily exclaimed. “Just shut up and get out of here!”
“I just wanted to apologize and make things right. I’m sick about this. I haven’t been able to sleep for a week. Can you please just tell her I’m sorry and I love her? I can’t live like this. My own parents won’t help me. It’s just a good thing that God’s mercy is so big, because I need a lot of it right now. Anger-management is going to be so humbling.”
Emily didn’t know what infuriated her more. Liam having the gall to come around and tell her how he was suffering after the way he assaulted Libby. The lying about the anti-depressants. The feel-sorry-for-me mantra or the talk about how humbling anger-management would be. She tucked her own hands in her pockets so she wouldn’t feel the need to use them, and wring his neck.
“You are a spineless little worm,” she told him lowly. “I don’t care what your excuse is for what you did. Because I have news for you. It’s not good enough! There is never a reason or excuse to raise a hand to another person, especially a woman, and especially your little sister! Now you get out of here, and don’t even think of coming back, or I’m calling Bert and Lucky, and telling them you’re in violation of your restraining order.”
Emily slammed the door and glared at Liam through the peephole until he got in his car and disappeared down the road.
--
“Thanks,” Libby said from behind her, and Emily jumped.
“Jeez, woman! Scare me to death! What are you doing? Come on, sit down,” Emily encouraged, putting an arm around Libby’s shoulder and leading her back to the couch.
Libby hated that Liam had the power to freak her out so much that she was shaking, but she couldn’t help it. Emily sat down and put an arm around her shoulders gently.
She was healing. The bruises were turning green and yellow instead of the angry black and purple they had been in the beginning. Her arm was out of its sling, and her nose looked better. But both forearms still bore deep cuts that would most likely scar. She would have smaller ones on her face, as well.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to fight him off,” Emily apologized. Libby would probably never know just how guilty Emily felt for not having been there. She knew how crazy Liam had been getting and still let her go home by herself. She was regularly haunted by the thought of what might have happened if Christian hadn’t come home when he did.
Libby shrugged. “It’s fine. Besides, you were here this time and that’s what matters. I just hate this whole thing. I hate that the cops are letting him off so easy. That he has such a power over me. That I just barely got over one trauma to have him hit me with another one.”
Emily looked at her sadly. “You’re strong, though. You fought back. You said no. You did everything right.” she felt like she said this countless times but she would say it as many times as Libby needed to hear it.
“I miss church,” Libby pouted, “But I can’t go in there looking like this. I’d scare the kids.” Libby said to herself.
“You don’t scare Christian,” Emily pointed out. “And hey, everybody at church is asking about you. They want to know if you’ll be well enough for the program next week.”
“The Messiah Sing, I wouldn’t miss it. And I better get back in church,” she sighed. “I need it.”
“Come Sunday, if you’re up to it,” Emily invited. “I’ll take you home early, myself, if you’re not up to staying the whole time.”
Libby smiled, satisfied, leaning against Emily’s shoulder.
She fell asleep in no time and dreamed, for the first time since the previous Friday, of nothing at all.
--
Church was held at 8:30 in the morning, two days later, and Libby almost decided against going when she realized a few things. First, it hurt to move. It hurt more to shower. And it hurt to get dressed. It hurt to do pretty much anything. Since she had spent much of the previous week lying around doing nothing, Libby hadn’t fully appreciated that fact. But she knew she had to get up and going sometime, and church was good incentive. Libby loved the people there. She missed them.
Jess let Libby ride in the front seat of the car, while Coby, Christian and Emily all sat in back.
“Dad’s pirate name is Puffy Shirt Stu,” Christian passed along, laughing. By now, his pirate party was imminent, and he and Jonathan spent every spare moment looking up everyone’s pirate name with the pirate name generator online.
“That’s nice, honey,” Jess said to Coby, smiling. “Maybe we should play pirates.”
Christian wrinkled his nose. “That’s gross, Mom. I totally know what you’re talking about, and it’s gross.”
“How do you know what we’re talking about?” Jess challenged lightly, keeping her eyes on the road.
“Because, there’s not that many things that grown-ups do for fun. It’s kind of easy to figure out.”
Libby laughed, trying not to, because it still hurt everything in her body. To block out the humor, she put on her I-Pod.
“What’s my pirate name?” Jess wanted to know, once Libby was listening to her music. Jess felt a little bad, but knew that Libby would be laughing with them again in no time.
“Yours is…” Christian said, referring to his journalist style notepad, following the list with his pencil. “Not-So-Keen-On-The-Women-Folk…” Christian shoved the paper at Emily to have her read the last word.
“…Gertrude!” Emily announced, as they were pulling into the parking lot.
“All right. Leave the pirate list in the car. Christian, walk with Mom and Emily. I’ll walk with Libby,” Coby said. Part of this was to reinforce manners that Christian already had, and part of it was because the parking lot was so icy, and the last thing any of them needed, especially Libby, was to fall and add another injury to the list.
“Okay, are you all right?” holding firmly onto Libby’s shoulders, knowing that her arms were still sore.
“Yeah, I got it,” Libby said, dragging air between her teeth. It hurt to be tense about as bad as it hurt to laugh, but Libby was determined to make it.
Up ahead, she saw Morgan and Jon, Cary and Nate greeting Christian, Jess and Emily. Libby just hoped nobody would try to hug her or touch her unexpectedly. However, she figured with Coby there, she had a good chance of being okay.
--
“He doesn’t even have anti-depressants!” Morgan was whispering indignantly, sitting in a pew. “Seriously. I would know. He was bone dry. Wouldn’t even take Tylenol for a headache, she told Emily.
“That’s what I said. I don’t think he’s right in the head. Like, at all. I mean, anybody who thinks restraining order is code for drag-your-butt-to-the-house-and-try-to-apologize…” Emily trailed off, spinning one finger beside her head in a crazy sign.
They fell quiet as Libby came in, supported by Coby.
--
Libby was finally settled in a back pew near the door. The pastor had already come to speak with her personally, despite the fact that it meant his service would be pushed back. Libby had asked that a big deal not be made out of her return, but thanked him for his prayers. “They mean a lot and they really helped,” she said.
There was so much to love about this church. It was small, and personal. She knew and trusted everybody. The message and the music were always so positive and left her feeling lighter, not heavier like her home church. Libby loved the red cushions on the pews, the simple look, and just everything about it. It felt like home. And, she thought, remembering Nate’s painting, like peace.
She smiled as Nate came to sit beside her, in a beautiful wine-colored shirt that reminded her of the robe she had seen him in when they first met. Beside Nate on the opposite side, sat Cary, dressed in dark green. Both men wore black pants and looked so handsome. Instead of teasing them with a joke about how Christmas was still a couple weeks away, she told them both they looked nice.
They looked at her and then at each other, smiling.
Libby still thought it was the coolest thing that though Cary wasn’t a Christian, he came to church with Nathaniel once a month. It was the most romantic thing Libby had ever heard of. Love in action, to an awesome extent. She didn’t know any Christians from her home church who would even dare marry outside their own religion, much less go out of their way to show respect for the other’s religion of choice.
Down the pew, Coby sat with his arm around Jess. Christian sat between them, pink shoelaces in his sneakers, in a pristine white button down shirt and blue jeans. Coby wore slacks and a blue dress shirt and Jess in corresponding black jeans and a blue baggy sweater, her hair loose around her shoulders. Libby loved it when they matched.
Emily had put on gray pants and a matching blazer and a bright pink shirt beneath. Her hair was back in a French braid. She wore gold heart earrings and heels. Libby wasn’t wearing anything that Liam would approve of as church attire, but she didn’t care. Sweats were comfortable, and Jess’s were even a little roomier, so that Libby didn’t feel constricted. They were comfortable dark blue sweatpants and a gray sweatshirt that said I’M THE BOSS in tiny blue letters on the right side.
Morgan was looking super cute in her pink Abercrombie shirt, black undershirt and black jeans. She didn’t have enough hair to pull back, but she wore subtle makeup. Lipstick and green eye shadow that made Libby think of Nathaniel’s parrot costume. Jonathan was dressed in a white tee shirt that read JESUS IS MY HOMEBOY, with a gray open sweater, black dress pants and fancy shoes. Libby wasn’t sure if he had been in a rush that morning, or if he just felt like wearing the tee shirt.
Libby paid attention as the service started, grateful for the simple message: Love your neighbor. She listened, as Nathaniel slid his hand into hers, offering support, and she squeezed.
Afterward, Christian wove his way through the small groups of people, saying “Ahoy! God bless you!” and finally made it to Libby.
“Hey, you,” she greeted, trying not to show that she was hurting. She was sitting in another chair near the door, hoping her friends might take the hint that she was ready to leave.
“I got you an éclair. They were for the visitors, but you’re back after a long time, so I asked, and the pastor said that you counted.”
Libby smiled, remembering a time in college, years ago. Actually, it had been just before the attack. Monday Madness was at their apartment and Jess had made éclairs for dinner. Christian had been little. Probably only four at the time, and Libby had sneaked into the kitchen when Jess’s back was turned, and took one, sharing it with Christian. It was a sweet memory. The last sweet memory, before everything went dark.
“Thanks,” Libby said. “You want to share?” she asked.
His face broke into a huge grin, showing off a gap that hadn’t been there before. It was a top tooth. A front one. “I was hoping you’d say that!” he said, breaking the dessert carefully in half and giving her part.
“Did you lose another tooth when I wasn’t looking?” she asked. He seemed to be losing teeth faster than she thought possible. Now, he had a huge gap on top, and an adorable lisp to go with it.
“Yep!” he nodded, taking a big bite. “It fell out when Morgan pulled it.”
“Ouch. I would never let Morgan pull my teeth. My brother used to tie a string to the door and the other end to my tooth. Then, he slammed the door.”
Christian shrugged going quiet. “Liam’s a butt-face,” he said darkly. “Morgan just yanked it out softly. It didn’t even hurt.”
“Yeah, he is,” Libby agreed. “But he can’t bother me anymore. Because it’s against the law for him to.”
“Yeah, well it’s against the law to hit anyway, but he still did that,” Christian said, licking some cream out of the middle.
Libby patted her lap and Christian climbed carefully into it. “You know you’re my favorite?” she asked seriously.
“Mm-hm, and you’re mine. Let’s do pirate art sometime, okay?” he said. “Like, you tell me what do draw and I’ll draw it. And when your arms are better we’ll switch.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Libby said, planting a kiss on his forehead.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Stowaway: Chapter 8
The minute the tape is over my mouth, I can’t breathe. I hear Christian calling me, and I pray he gets here fast, because if he doesn’t, I’ll pass out. My nose feels broken, and I can’t get any air that way. I need Christian to get it off. I need him to call 911.
Christian heard the sound of glass breaking and ran faster down the stairs. Libby was home. He knew she was. If glass was breaking, it meant that she got hurt. His mom and dad weren’t coming home until suppertime so Christian knew it was up to him. They had to take care of each other, because that’s what friends did.
Very carefully, Christian looked in all the rooms. The family room had a plate on the couch with a pizza crust on it. Christian bit his lip. Emily used to leave messes at the apartment all the time, but she was better about it now. And besides, Emily wasn’t even home. Libby always cleaned up after herself. Christian started to worry and felt his heart beat faster inside him. What if a stranger was inside? Or a robber? What if they were the one who made that noise?
Turning back around, Christian ran upstairs and into his bedroom. It used to feel safe in there, with the green walls and big stuffed puppy on the bed. Really fast, he looked under the bed, and found what he was looking for. His baseball bat. It was made of the strongest wood. He knew because he hit a homerun with it last year when he played for the 7 and under team. He looked inside the kitchen and saw Snoopy had an accident and was barking like crazy. The kitchen still had the gate around it, and Libby always let Snoopy out right away. Leaning in, Christian picked up the dog, and took him with, too. He might help guard, and bark if there was danger.
Moving slowly, like he’d seen his dad do when he wasn’t sure of a situation, Christian crept back down the stairs. He checked out Libby and Emily’s room, the bat over his shoulder and Snoopy in his arms, shaking, just as scared as Christian was. Nobody was in the bedroom so he checked the bathroom. That was normal too. He peeked in the laundry room. Christian didn’t like it in there because it was dark, but he made himself check it out anyway, because that’s what a man would do, and he already felt like a man for years now. He was used to protecting his mom. He would protect Libby, too, because he had lots of practice.
Just as Christian was about to duck out of the laundry room, he noticed the door to the exercise bedroom was open a little ways. It hadn’t been before, because it was a surprise for Libby. With the bat over his shoulder and the puppy in the other arm, Christian kicked the door open. Then, he got dizzy and almost fell down.
Because there was Libby, all bloody on the cement floor. She had duct tape on her mouth and she was crying. She looked beat up bad, even worse than her mom looked when a guy robbed her. The window was broken and a cold wind was blowing. There was glass everywhere, and blood on the desk his dad was making for Libby. A chair was missing.
“Libby!” he yelled, running to her. He watched her jerk away and then remembered that he still had the baseball bat. Christian put it down on the ground and the dog, too. Somehow, Snoopy knew that Libby was hurt, even though he was just a puppy. He cried and started to lick her face.
It looked like Libby was having a hard time breathing because she was making a lot of struggling noise. She kept bringing her hand up to her mouth and trying to get the tape off, but it wouldn’t come.
“Here. Don’t move, I’ll do it,” Christian told her, shaking just as bad as Snoopy. He tried to get a good grip on the tape, but it was slippery with blood. He tried to pull, but Libby made noise as if he was hurting her. Then, she took the hand that didn’t look hurt, and moved it to her ear, in a sign for phone.
Right. Christian got all those supplies and forgot the most important one. Lucky for him, he knew just where Libby kept her phone now. “I’ll be right back, I promise,” he said, giving her a kiss in her hair, where she didn’t look that bad.
“Stay,” he told Snoopy, picking some glass off of Libby and setting the puppy on top of her. Just like a good dog, Snoopy laid down. “He’ll protect you until I get back.”
Then, Christian ran to the family room and dug under the couch cushions for Libby’s phone. He found it in three pieces, and quickly put the battery back in, and the little door on to keep the battery from falling out. Then he pressed the on button and waited for it to wake up.
Before he even got back to Libby, he dialed 911.
--
“Lamoille County 911. Do you have an emergency?”
“Yes,” Christian said in a hurry, he was running to get back to Libby. “My friend is hurt really bad!” When he saw her the second time, Christian felt tears coming and tried not to cry. But it was so sad to see Libby crying and bleeding and trying to breathe, and Snoopy lying on her and licking her face.
“What happened to your friend?” the lady on the other end of the call asked.
“I don’t know!” Christian sobbed. “I just got home from school and heard a crash, and then I found her lying on the floor! She’s bleeding a lot and has tape on her mouth!”
“Okay, calm down,” the lady said in a firm voice. “What’s your name?”
“Christian Walker,” he sniffed.
“Okay, Christian. How old are you?”
“I’m almost eight. Libby’s twenty-one. She’s my friend and my mom and dad’s friend. She was supposed to watch me after school,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Do you need my address?” he asked, petting Libby’s hair.
“No, I know where you are. Christian, does your friend know who hurt her?”
“Um. I don’t know. Libby, do you know who hurt you?” he asked, playing with the edge of the tape.
“She’s nodding. She knows, but she can’t talk! I tried to get the tape off, but it was hurting her so I stopped! She can’t breathe very good though! Is someone coming?”
“Yes, I have police on the way. How is Libby doing?”
“She’s bleeding a lot, from her arms and her face,” Christian passed along, worried.
“Okay, do you have a clean towel or something you can use to stop the bleeding?” the lady on the phone asked. “You need to press down on the bleeding areas. Do you understand? Wrap them up and press as hard as you can.”
Christian put the phone on speaker, laid it on the floor, and took of his jacket off. He wasn’t going to leave Libby again, unless the police came and made him. Christian wrapped his jacket around her arm very tight. Libby screamed behind the tape but kept nodding, as if he was doing the right thing. Then Christian took off his sweatshirt, and wrapped it tight around the other arm and hand. He used his tee shirt to clean the blood of her face. He was lucky it was very cold out and he needed a lot of layers.
Outside, Christian heard sirens and he was scared again. What if the broken window was how the bad guy got in, and he was still here? He said that to the lady on the phone. Then, he pulled his bat closer and laid his whole body across Libby’s.
“They’re coming,” Christian whispered.
Underneath him, he could hear Libby’s heart beating so fast, and the noise in her chest when she tried to breathe.
The door was pushed open, and he heard men’s voices. Feet on the stairs, because Snoopy was barking and giving away where they were.
“Don’t come any closer!” Christian screamed, hearing footsteps enter the room. He clutched the bat in one hand.
“Christian, it’s the police. It’s the good guys,” the lady on the phone was saying, but Christian was too afraid to look.
“Christian,” a man’s voice said that didn’t sound anything like his dad‘s.
“If you touch her, I’ll knock your damn head off, and that’s a promise!” Christian screamed, the same way he once heard his dad defend his mom when a tourist tried to take a picture with her, as if she was a sight on a sightseeing tour.
Then, the worst thing happened. Christian felt himself getting lifted up. “It’s okay. We’ll take care of her now. Christian, it’s me. It’s Lucky.” Finally, Christian peeked one eye open. It was Lucky. His favorite policeman ever, here to save the day. He came to Christian’s class in first and second grade to tell them about 911.
“Hey, we need to get this tape off her ASAP. Christian, do you have any vegetable oil?” the other policeman asked, talking softly to Libby, and giving Christian the puppy.
Christian ran as fast as he could up the stairs into the kitchen. His mom had the biggest bottle of vegetable oil ever and Christian knew just where it was.
“Hey, Christian! You got cotton balls?” Lucky called.
“In the downstairs bathroom! Libby and Emily have some in there!” Christian called back. He got the vegetable oil and hurried down the first flight of stairs. Seeing Lucky at the bottom of the second flight, Christian tossed the big bottle, and Lucky caught it in one hand. He was as big as a football player and Santa, mixed into one person.
--
When the police got the tape off her mouth, Libby dragged in a deep breath.
“Hey, Lib,” Lucky said, and she tried to smile at him. She recognized him from church. “You’re gonna be okay. The ambulance ought to be here in no time and we’ll get you fixed up. Do you know who hurt you?”
Libby nodded. “Where’s Christian?” she rasped, wincing as Lucky pressed his massive hands against her arms to slow the bleeding. He probed her nose, and she flinched.
“He’s with Bert,” Lucky said, indicating the other officer. “He’s okay.”
“It was my brother,” Libby admitted, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks, stinging the open cuts. She knew she had to tell. She didn’t want him beating her up again, and definitely didn’t want him around kids with his crazy side. “William Patrick Wright.”
“The kid from TV?” Lucky asked, incredulous. At the time, Lucky thought the kid had been nice enough, and even felt bad about what he had to endure. Now, though, seeing Libby with her lip split, her nose probably broken, with cuts and bruises everywhere, Lucky wanted to find him, kick his ass back to Minnesota and lock him up there.
“Yes,” Libby whimpered. “When Christian came home, it scared him and he left. He’s probably headed for the Manchester airport. Six feet, slight build, buzzed dirty blonde hair. Blue-gray eyes,” she gasped as she was lifted onto the stretcher. I bit him. His right hand, he was bleeding when he left. Brown jacket, gray knit cap.”
“Okay. Good, that’s good,” Lucky said. “We’ll find him, sweetheart. Don’t worry. They’re gonna take you and Christian to the hospital. Can’t reach Coby or Jess but as soon as we can, they’ll know.”
In the distance, Libby saw Bert carrying Christian out to ride along in the ambulance, wearing jeans and his fleece Patriots blanket.
--
Nate and Cary had just gotten in after taking Linus for a walk on the rec path. They heard sirens there, and noticed cop cars and an ambulance heading tin the direction of their house. Cary and Nate just looked at one another and took off toward the house, rushing around it, to see police cars and an ambulance parked in the drive of Jess and Coby’s house. The doors to the ambulance were just being closed. Nate could see Christian in the front seat.
“What happened? Who’s hurt?” he demanded of Lucky, the kind-hearted officer in front of the house.
Cary was right behind him. “Is Christian okay?”
Lucky turned to them, his face grim. He normally wouldn’t give this kind of information out if it wasn’t to family, but he knew these kids. They were as close as family. “It’s not Christian. It’s Libby. She’ll be okay, but she’ll need someone to take her home.”
Without a word, they both ran to their car and got in, Cary playing ambulance chaser, and Nathaniel on the phone, trying to reach Jess, Coby, Emily, Morgan and Jon.
--
Christian was sitting in room with chairs. A lady was trying to make him feel better, bringing him juice and a cookie, but Christian didn’t think he would ever eat again. He still felt so sick seeing Libby all beat up.
But when he saw Nate and Cary come in, he jumped out of his chair and ran to them. They were both dressed in big coats. Nate’s was blue and Cary’s was black. They looked very warm. Christian’s coat had Libby’s blood on it. So did his shirt.
“Libby got beat up!” he said, feeling his heart beat fast, as Nate took his jacket off, and put it around Christian’s shoulders.
While Cary talked to the woman in charge of Christian and reassured her that they were his neighbors and knew his family, Nate sat in a chair and held Christian on his lap. He let Christian talk, and asked if he was okay. Instinctively, Nate didn’t pry, knowing firsthand what it was like to endure a violent situation and feel pressured in the aftermath to give information.
“I tried, but I couldn’t get the tape off her mouth,” Christian told him sadly.
“You know what?” Cary said, “Nate and I have known you a long time. And I bet you did everything you could and you were so brave. Libby and your mom and dad and all of us are so proud of you.”
Christian ignored him. He didn’t feel like he did a good job. He turned to Nate.
“Who would want to hurt Libby?” he asked, shivering a little under Nate’s coat. “Is it the same guy that hurt you guys a long time ago?”
“No,” Nathaniel said firmly. “That guy died. He can’t hurt us anymore…and I don’t know who would want to hurt Libby.”
--
Libby was released hours later, after receiving countless stitches in her arms, having her nose examined, her right arm put in a splint, and being diagnosed with a concussion.
By then, Emily had heard about what happened, and come to the hospital to pick up Christian, so he wouldn’t see Libby looking bad anymore than he had to.
Nate and Cary were the first people she saw, and Libby begged them to take her home. She didn’t want to think about how much all this would cost. She hadn’t had a job until recently, and had no medical insurance. The whole thing was giving her a headache.
--
Jon got home that afternoon and didn’t bother checking his phone. He wanted peace and quiet. But the minute he walked in the kitchen, he could sense something amiss. A single butter knife was in the sink, smeared with various ingredients. He looked closer. Peanut butter. Honey. And Nutella. Jon grimaced. Morgan would never put all that on bread at once. And she would use different knives.
He investigated further, finding smears of peanut butter in the Nutella. Who the hell stopped in for a disgusting sandwich, and didn’t let him know? That made Jon search the rest of the house. The living room seemed fine. Nothing out of place.
Jon checked the bathroom next, and found Morgan’s tropical fish towel tossed haphazardly on the floor. He picked it up, grimacing. It wasn’t just wet, it was really wet, but it smelled like Morgan. He dropped it on the floor again, worry gnawing at his gut. Was she okay? Was she struggling? Was she gone?
“Jonathan!” Morgan hollered, pounding in the house.
Well, that answered that question.
“Morgan?” he called back. “You all right? Eating nasty food and middle-of-the-day showers would indicate no.” Jon met her in the living room and stared into her eyes. She did look upset, but it wasn’t personal. It was something else.
“Didn’t you check your messages, dude? Liam was here. In town. He came over to Jess and Coby’s, got Libby alone, and then he beat the hell out of her. She just got out of the hospital,” she flipped the TV on to show the news.
High City, Minnesota native, William Wright, recently seen on ABC’s Backward Glance, admitted to assault today, claiming, “I never should have laid a hand on my sister. But I did and I am deeply sorry. I will go to anger management. I will do whatever I have to do to make this right.”
Angrily, Morgan turned the TV off. “That son-of-a-bitch!”
“He was here, you know?” Jon said. “He made himself a sandwich and left the knife in the sink. He showered here and used your towel to dry off. Smelled like you.”
“Oh, hell no!” Morgan exclaimed, rushing through the house. She hurried into her room and checked for signs of scum. Immediately she could see her closet door ajar. The journal she shared with Jon out on her bed, and her laptop, which had been turned off this morning, plugged in and lit up. When she lay across her bed to look at the screen, and saw his status from 12:08 PM still on the screen, still signed in, Morgan felt sick and violated.
“Let’s go,” she said, grabbing her coat.
--
Libby walked unsteadily into the house. Nathaniel would have carried her, but she promised that if he did, she would scream. Her whole body hurt too much to even think about being picked up.
“Liam hurt you?!” Jess asked, in shock, as soon as she saw Libby. Her eyes, nose and lip were swollen. Her arms wrapped in gauze and one was in a sling.
“Just don’t worry about it, okay?” Libby insisted. “I just want to go to bed.”
“Jess, calm down…” Coby whispered, even though he didn’t feel calm in the least. That coward had come into their home, while they weren’t there. He waited until he knew Libby was alone and then tried to beat her into submission.
“I’m going to kill him,” Jess said under her breath, glad that Emily had taken Christian out for pizza, so he wasn’t around anymore of this intensity.
“Where’s CJ?” Libby asked groggily.
“He’s out to eat. He’ll be home later,” Nate said quietly sitting beside her in the doublewide recliner. Gently, he pressed cold compresses to her face.
“He did such a good job. He protected me. Scared Liam away. Tried to get the tape off me. When he had to go, he got Snoopy to stay with me,” she went on.
Jess busied herself getting the couch ready, insisting that Libby was not going to walk downstairs in her shape. “Do you need anything?” she asked, touching Libby’s leg, sad when she flinched instinctively away.
“I wanna paint…”
Nathaniel didn’t argue. He just got up and walked out the back door to Coby’s shop and gathered up her easel, paper and paints and brought it all inside. He set it up in front of Libby in the recliner, adjusting the height of the easel and setting the paints the brushes where she could reach them.
Libby took the brush in her left hand, painting awkward black lines until she got tired and gave up. “Will you?” she asked, looking at Nate around the ice he was pressing to her face.
Wordlessly, he took the brush and angled the easel toward him.
“Paint me,” she said softly.
“Okay, but you have to hold that on your face,” Nathaniel told her gently.
When she did, Nate obeyed, painting Libby as he knew she imagined herself today, covered in big, black fear.
“Now use red. Cover it,” she instructed, tired. Red was her self-worth, her fight, and Christian in his red coat, protecting her.
As her eyes fell closed, Libby gave a final instruction. “Title it: Superhero, and make sure it doesn’t get lost.”
“Promise,” Nate said softly. “Now you get some sleep.
--
There was a fierce pounding on the door, and Cary ran to open it. He found Jon and Morgan, looking furious, standing on the Walkers’ front step.
“Why the hell do I have 12 billion messages saying that Liam beat the shit out of Libby?” Morgan demanded lowly.
“He’s on TV already! Apparently, he put some kind of status update about how sorry he is, and how he’s at fault and he’ll go to anger management. Didn’t mention that he took a shower at our house, and used Morgan’s towel to dry his pansy ass. He was all over her bed and updated from Morgan’s computer!” Jon exclaimed, not bothering to keep his voice down.
Cary blocked their entrance and closed the door behind them, keeping Morgan and Jon outside. “Because it’s true. He beat her pretty badly. She’s got a concussion and cuts and bruises. She needed stitches. Her nose is broken. Christian came in at the end of it. Apparently scared Liam off. He called 911 and stayed with her. Lucky said he walked in there and found CJ bare-chested, his coat, sweatshirt and tee shirt wrapped around her arms. He threw himself over her body and said if they touched her, he would knock their damn heads off. He spent most of the time trying to get the tape off her mouth.”
Jon put an arm around Morgan and held her close, grateful beyond words that she wasn’t the one so badly injured, but angry, too, that Liam would dare raise a hand to a woman like that.
Cary’s eyes looked bluer somehow in the fading outdoor light. He was sober-faced, without the smile that Morgan and Jon were so used to seeing.
Just then, Emily pulled into the driveway. “Jess asked if you two wanted to take him for the night. If not Nathaniel and I will. Jess, Coby and Em are taking shifts with Libby tonight. The concussion and everything. They want to make sure she doesn’t get worse.”
“We can take him,” Morgan volunteered.
“All right. He’s not too comfortable with the hero label. Just a head’s up. I’ll run in and get his bag. Jess and Coby don’t want him seeing Libby like this.”
Cary excused himself, while Christian made a beeline for the two on the steps. “Hey, Jon and Morgan! I ate so much pizza tonight! Almost as much as Emily!”
Emily gave them both hugs and whispered how grateful she was that they all still had each other, and then excused herself, going inside to check on Libby. The sentiment was enough to make Jon a little misty, so, to distract himself, he studied the kid’s wardrobe. It seemed she didn’t only get him pizza but also a new winter coat, to replace the one he used helping Libby. It was exactly like of the one he had before. The tags were still on. When Christian caught Jon staring, he unzipped his jacket and showed off the new white tee shirt and Patriots jersey she had bought him.
“Bam!” Christian exclaimed. “Look at that. Awesome, huh? Emily found a good deal on it. It’s way better than the sweater I went to school with, but don’t tell Mom and Dad or they might feel bad.”
“Wow!” Morgan exclaimed, picking him up and spinning him around. “Hey, do you want to come and spend the night at our house? We can have a pirate party and watch Pirates of the Caribbean,” she offered, smiling.
She already had ideas. They would go on a treasure hunt. Maybe make a map. Eat popcorn and drink hot chocolate. They would sleep in sleeping bags in front of the TV. Maybe, Jon would pitch a tent for them, and they could have a real campout. It was everything Christian had ever asked for when he spent the night. And Morgan wanted him to have everything. Looking into Jon’s eyes, she knew he agreed.
“Awesome!” Christian exclaimed and then grew very still. “Is Libby okay?”
The door opened again and Jess stepped out, holding an overnight bag and a piece of paper. “Hey CJ. Is it okay if you have a sleepover with Morgan and Jon tonight?”
“Yeah, that’s okay,” he nodded seriously.
Jess reached out and hugged him. “You did everything right,” she told him, feeling pride and hormones making tears imminent. But she took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Here. Libby wanted me to give this to you. She told Nate to paint it.”
Christian took the picture, scrutinized it, and then asked Jon for a pen, because he always kept one behind his ear from work. Then, Christian turned his back, hunched over the paper, using his leg as a table.
Then, he shoved the picture back at his mom.
“Give that back and tell her to keep it,” Christian said, sounding stunningly adult. Then, he put the bag over his shoulder and walked to Jon’s car in the fading light with Morgan and Jonathan in tow.
As snow fell around her, Jess turned the painting over in her hands. It still pictured Libby, with Christian’s red coat over her, but now it said:
REAL MAN Real men don’t hit. Real men protect. Love CJ.
Superhero
Jess sighed. This was one of the million reasons why she loved her son.
He had perspective and was wise beyond his years. He didn’t hesitate to step in and help a friend, even when he was scared. He had integrity. He had strength. He had courage beyond what a child of nearly eight should possess. He was amazing.
She covered her stomach with one hand, waving to Jon, Morgan and CJ with the other, praying that this child would have all the qualities their big brother did, and praying that this child would never have to be as brave as Christian had to be today.
Once the car disappeared down the street, Jess let herself inside, preparing for a long night, but grateful that Coby, Cary and Nathaniel and Emily were all gathered quietly in the living room. Sometimes they prayed and sometimes they just sat. Cary, watched the TV on mute, being careful to keep it tuned to safe channels like Nickelodeon and Disney, so there wouldn’t be an inadvertent news report. Libby didn’t need that.
Once supper was made, Jess settled down beside Libby, so she would always know someone was nearby. Emily also hung around upstairs while Coby, Nate and Cary went to see what they could start repairs on the room downstairs.
Now, more than ever, they were determined that Libby have a place of her own to do her art. A place where she could have peace and not worry about anything. And Jess knew that with her husband and Nate and Cary on the job, it would get done.
And it would be beautiful.
Christian heard the sound of glass breaking and ran faster down the stairs. Libby was home. He knew she was. If glass was breaking, it meant that she got hurt. His mom and dad weren’t coming home until suppertime so Christian knew it was up to him. They had to take care of each other, because that’s what friends did.
Very carefully, Christian looked in all the rooms. The family room had a plate on the couch with a pizza crust on it. Christian bit his lip. Emily used to leave messes at the apartment all the time, but she was better about it now. And besides, Emily wasn’t even home. Libby always cleaned up after herself. Christian started to worry and felt his heart beat faster inside him. What if a stranger was inside? Or a robber? What if they were the one who made that noise?
Turning back around, Christian ran upstairs and into his bedroom. It used to feel safe in there, with the green walls and big stuffed puppy on the bed. Really fast, he looked under the bed, and found what he was looking for. His baseball bat. It was made of the strongest wood. He knew because he hit a homerun with it last year when he played for the 7 and under team. He looked inside the kitchen and saw Snoopy had an accident and was barking like crazy. The kitchen still had the gate around it, and Libby always let Snoopy out right away. Leaning in, Christian picked up the dog, and took him with, too. He might help guard, and bark if there was danger.
Moving slowly, like he’d seen his dad do when he wasn’t sure of a situation, Christian crept back down the stairs. He checked out Libby and Emily’s room, the bat over his shoulder and Snoopy in his arms, shaking, just as scared as Christian was. Nobody was in the bedroom so he checked the bathroom. That was normal too. He peeked in the laundry room. Christian didn’t like it in there because it was dark, but he made himself check it out anyway, because that’s what a man would do, and he already felt like a man for years now. He was used to protecting his mom. He would protect Libby, too, because he had lots of practice.
Just as Christian was about to duck out of the laundry room, he noticed the door to the exercise bedroom was open a little ways. It hadn’t been before, because it was a surprise for Libby. With the bat over his shoulder and the puppy in the other arm, Christian kicked the door open. Then, he got dizzy and almost fell down.
Because there was Libby, all bloody on the cement floor. She had duct tape on her mouth and she was crying. She looked beat up bad, even worse than her mom looked when a guy robbed her. The window was broken and a cold wind was blowing. There was glass everywhere, and blood on the desk his dad was making for Libby. A chair was missing.
“Libby!” he yelled, running to her. He watched her jerk away and then remembered that he still had the baseball bat. Christian put it down on the ground and the dog, too. Somehow, Snoopy knew that Libby was hurt, even though he was just a puppy. He cried and started to lick her face.
It looked like Libby was having a hard time breathing because she was making a lot of struggling noise. She kept bringing her hand up to her mouth and trying to get the tape off, but it wouldn’t come.
“Here. Don’t move, I’ll do it,” Christian told her, shaking just as bad as Snoopy. He tried to get a good grip on the tape, but it was slippery with blood. He tried to pull, but Libby made noise as if he was hurting her. Then, she took the hand that didn’t look hurt, and moved it to her ear, in a sign for phone.
Right. Christian got all those supplies and forgot the most important one. Lucky for him, he knew just where Libby kept her phone now. “I’ll be right back, I promise,” he said, giving her a kiss in her hair, where she didn’t look that bad.
“Stay,” he told Snoopy, picking some glass off of Libby and setting the puppy on top of her. Just like a good dog, Snoopy laid down. “He’ll protect you until I get back.”
Then, Christian ran to the family room and dug under the couch cushions for Libby’s phone. He found it in three pieces, and quickly put the battery back in, and the little door on to keep the battery from falling out. Then he pressed the on button and waited for it to wake up.
Before he even got back to Libby, he dialed 911.
--
“Lamoille County 911. Do you have an emergency?”
“Yes,” Christian said in a hurry, he was running to get back to Libby. “My friend is hurt really bad!” When he saw her the second time, Christian felt tears coming and tried not to cry. But it was so sad to see Libby crying and bleeding and trying to breathe, and Snoopy lying on her and licking her face.
“What happened to your friend?” the lady on the other end of the call asked.
“I don’t know!” Christian sobbed. “I just got home from school and heard a crash, and then I found her lying on the floor! She’s bleeding a lot and has tape on her mouth!”
“Okay, calm down,” the lady said in a firm voice. “What’s your name?”
“Christian Walker,” he sniffed.
“Okay, Christian. How old are you?”
“I’m almost eight. Libby’s twenty-one. She’s my friend and my mom and dad’s friend. She was supposed to watch me after school,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Do you need my address?” he asked, petting Libby’s hair.
“No, I know where you are. Christian, does your friend know who hurt her?”
“Um. I don’t know. Libby, do you know who hurt you?” he asked, playing with the edge of the tape.
“She’s nodding. She knows, but she can’t talk! I tried to get the tape off, but it was hurting her so I stopped! She can’t breathe very good though! Is someone coming?”
“Yes, I have police on the way. How is Libby doing?”
“She’s bleeding a lot, from her arms and her face,” Christian passed along, worried.
“Okay, do you have a clean towel or something you can use to stop the bleeding?” the lady on the phone asked. “You need to press down on the bleeding areas. Do you understand? Wrap them up and press as hard as you can.”
Christian put the phone on speaker, laid it on the floor, and took of his jacket off. He wasn’t going to leave Libby again, unless the police came and made him. Christian wrapped his jacket around her arm very tight. Libby screamed behind the tape but kept nodding, as if he was doing the right thing. Then Christian took off his sweatshirt, and wrapped it tight around the other arm and hand. He used his tee shirt to clean the blood of her face. He was lucky it was very cold out and he needed a lot of layers.
Outside, Christian heard sirens and he was scared again. What if the broken window was how the bad guy got in, and he was still here? He said that to the lady on the phone. Then, he pulled his bat closer and laid his whole body across Libby’s.
“They’re coming,” Christian whispered.
Underneath him, he could hear Libby’s heart beating so fast, and the noise in her chest when she tried to breathe.
The door was pushed open, and he heard men’s voices. Feet on the stairs, because Snoopy was barking and giving away where they were.
“Don’t come any closer!” Christian screamed, hearing footsteps enter the room. He clutched the bat in one hand.
“Christian, it’s the police. It’s the good guys,” the lady on the phone was saying, but Christian was too afraid to look.
“Christian,” a man’s voice said that didn’t sound anything like his dad‘s.
“If you touch her, I’ll knock your damn head off, and that’s a promise!” Christian screamed, the same way he once heard his dad defend his mom when a tourist tried to take a picture with her, as if she was a sight on a sightseeing tour.
Then, the worst thing happened. Christian felt himself getting lifted up. “It’s okay. We’ll take care of her now. Christian, it’s me. It’s Lucky.” Finally, Christian peeked one eye open. It was Lucky. His favorite policeman ever, here to save the day. He came to Christian’s class in first and second grade to tell them about 911.
“Hey, we need to get this tape off her ASAP. Christian, do you have any vegetable oil?” the other policeman asked, talking softly to Libby, and giving Christian the puppy.
Christian ran as fast as he could up the stairs into the kitchen. His mom had the biggest bottle of vegetable oil ever and Christian knew just where it was.
“Hey, Christian! You got cotton balls?” Lucky called.
“In the downstairs bathroom! Libby and Emily have some in there!” Christian called back. He got the vegetable oil and hurried down the first flight of stairs. Seeing Lucky at the bottom of the second flight, Christian tossed the big bottle, and Lucky caught it in one hand. He was as big as a football player and Santa, mixed into one person.
--
When the police got the tape off her mouth, Libby dragged in a deep breath.
“Hey, Lib,” Lucky said, and she tried to smile at him. She recognized him from church. “You’re gonna be okay. The ambulance ought to be here in no time and we’ll get you fixed up. Do you know who hurt you?”
Libby nodded. “Where’s Christian?” she rasped, wincing as Lucky pressed his massive hands against her arms to slow the bleeding. He probed her nose, and she flinched.
“He’s with Bert,” Lucky said, indicating the other officer. “He’s okay.”
“It was my brother,” Libby admitted, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks, stinging the open cuts. She knew she had to tell. She didn’t want him beating her up again, and definitely didn’t want him around kids with his crazy side. “William Patrick Wright.”
“The kid from TV?” Lucky asked, incredulous. At the time, Lucky thought the kid had been nice enough, and even felt bad about what he had to endure. Now, though, seeing Libby with her lip split, her nose probably broken, with cuts and bruises everywhere, Lucky wanted to find him, kick his ass back to Minnesota and lock him up there.
“Yes,” Libby whimpered. “When Christian came home, it scared him and he left. He’s probably headed for the Manchester airport. Six feet, slight build, buzzed dirty blonde hair. Blue-gray eyes,” she gasped as she was lifted onto the stretcher. I bit him. His right hand, he was bleeding when he left. Brown jacket, gray knit cap.”
“Okay. Good, that’s good,” Lucky said. “We’ll find him, sweetheart. Don’t worry. They’re gonna take you and Christian to the hospital. Can’t reach Coby or Jess but as soon as we can, they’ll know.”
In the distance, Libby saw Bert carrying Christian out to ride along in the ambulance, wearing jeans and his fleece Patriots blanket.
--
Nate and Cary had just gotten in after taking Linus for a walk on the rec path. They heard sirens there, and noticed cop cars and an ambulance heading tin the direction of their house. Cary and Nate just looked at one another and took off toward the house, rushing around it, to see police cars and an ambulance parked in the drive of Jess and Coby’s house. The doors to the ambulance were just being closed. Nate could see Christian in the front seat.
“What happened? Who’s hurt?” he demanded of Lucky, the kind-hearted officer in front of the house.
Cary was right behind him. “Is Christian okay?”
Lucky turned to them, his face grim. He normally wouldn’t give this kind of information out if it wasn’t to family, but he knew these kids. They were as close as family. “It’s not Christian. It’s Libby. She’ll be okay, but she’ll need someone to take her home.”
Without a word, they both ran to their car and got in, Cary playing ambulance chaser, and Nathaniel on the phone, trying to reach Jess, Coby, Emily, Morgan and Jon.
--
Christian was sitting in room with chairs. A lady was trying to make him feel better, bringing him juice and a cookie, but Christian didn’t think he would ever eat again. He still felt so sick seeing Libby all beat up.
But when he saw Nate and Cary come in, he jumped out of his chair and ran to them. They were both dressed in big coats. Nate’s was blue and Cary’s was black. They looked very warm. Christian’s coat had Libby’s blood on it. So did his shirt.
“Libby got beat up!” he said, feeling his heart beat fast, as Nate took his jacket off, and put it around Christian’s shoulders.
While Cary talked to the woman in charge of Christian and reassured her that they were his neighbors and knew his family, Nate sat in a chair and held Christian on his lap. He let Christian talk, and asked if he was okay. Instinctively, Nate didn’t pry, knowing firsthand what it was like to endure a violent situation and feel pressured in the aftermath to give information.
“I tried, but I couldn’t get the tape off her mouth,” Christian told him sadly.
“You know what?” Cary said, “Nate and I have known you a long time. And I bet you did everything you could and you were so brave. Libby and your mom and dad and all of us are so proud of you.”
Christian ignored him. He didn’t feel like he did a good job. He turned to Nate.
“Who would want to hurt Libby?” he asked, shivering a little under Nate’s coat. “Is it the same guy that hurt you guys a long time ago?”
“No,” Nathaniel said firmly. “That guy died. He can’t hurt us anymore…and I don’t know who would want to hurt Libby.”
--
Libby was released hours later, after receiving countless stitches in her arms, having her nose examined, her right arm put in a splint, and being diagnosed with a concussion.
By then, Emily had heard about what happened, and come to the hospital to pick up Christian, so he wouldn’t see Libby looking bad anymore than he had to.
Nate and Cary were the first people she saw, and Libby begged them to take her home. She didn’t want to think about how much all this would cost. She hadn’t had a job until recently, and had no medical insurance. The whole thing was giving her a headache.
--
Jon got home that afternoon and didn’t bother checking his phone. He wanted peace and quiet. But the minute he walked in the kitchen, he could sense something amiss. A single butter knife was in the sink, smeared with various ingredients. He looked closer. Peanut butter. Honey. And Nutella. Jon grimaced. Morgan would never put all that on bread at once. And she would use different knives.
He investigated further, finding smears of peanut butter in the Nutella. Who the hell stopped in for a disgusting sandwich, and didn’t let him know? That made Jon search the rest of the house. The living room seemed fine. Nothing out of place.
Jon checked the bathroom next, and found Morgan’s tropical fish towel tossed haphazardly on the floor. He picked it up, grimacing. It wasn’t just wet, it was really wet, but it smelled like Morgan. He dropped it on the floor again, worry gnawing at his gut. Was she okay? Was she struggling? Was she gone?
“Jonathan!” Morgan hollered, pounding in the house.
Well, that answered that question.
“Morgan?” he called back. “You all right? Eating nasty food and middle-of-the-day showers would indicate no.” Jon met her in the living room and stared into her eyes. She did look upset, but it wasn’t personal. It was something else.
“Didn’t you check your messages, dude? Liam was here. In town. He came over to Jess and Coby’s, got Libby alone, and then he beat the hell out of her. She just got out of the hospital,” she flipped the TV on to show the news.
High City, Minnesota native, William Wright, recently seen on ABC’s Backward Glance, admitted to assault today, claiming, “I never should have laid a hand on my sister. But I did and I am deeply sorry. I will go to anger management. I will do whatever I have to do to make this right.”
Angrily, Morgan turned the TV off. “That son-of-a-bitch!”
“He was here, you know?” Jon said. “He made himself a sandwich and left the knife in the sink. He showered here and used your towel to dry off. Smelled like you.”
“Oh, hell no!” Morgan exclaimed, rushing through the house. She hurried into her room and checked for signs of scum. Immediately she could see her closet door ajar. The journal she shared with Jon out on her bed, and her laptop, which had been turned off this morning, plugged in and lit up. When she lay across her bed to look at the screen, and saw his status from 12:08 PM still on the screen, still signed in, Morgan felt sick and violated.
“Let’s go,” she said, grabbing her coat.
--
Libby walked unsteadily into the house. Nathaniel would have carried her, but she promised that if he did, she would scream. Her whole body hurt too much to even think about being picked up.
“Liam hurt you?!” Jess asked, in shock, as soon as she saw Libby. Her eyes, nose and lip were swollen. Her arms wrapped in gauze and one was in a sling.
“Just don’t worry about it, okay?” Libby insisted. “I just want to go to bed.”
“Jess, calm down…” Coby whispered, even though he didn’t feel calm in the least. That coward had come into their home, while they weren’t there. He waited until he knew Libby was alone and then tried to beat her into submission.
“I’m going to kill him,” Jess said under her breath, glad that Emily had taken Christian out for pizza, so he wasn’t around anymore of this intensity.
“Where’s CJ?” Libby asked groggily.
“He’s out to eat. He’ll be home later,” Nate said quietly sitting beside her in the doublewide recliner. Gently, he pressed cold compresses to her face.
“He did such a good job. He protected me. Scared Liam away. Tried to get the tape off me. When he had to go, he got Snoopy to stay with me,” she went on.
Jess busied herself getting the couch ready, insisting that Libby was not going to walk downstairs in her shape. “Do you need anything?” she asked, touching Libby’s leg, sad when she flinched instinctively away.
“I wanna paint…”
Nathaniel didn’t argue. He just got up and walked out the back door to Coby’s shop and gathered up her easel, paper and paints and brought it all inside. He set it up in front of Libby in the recliner, adjusting the height of the easel and setting the paints the brushes where she could reach them.
Libby took the brush in her left hand, painting awkward black lines until she got tired and gave up. “Will you?” she asked, looking at Nate around the ice he was pressing to her face.
Wordlessly, he took the brush and angled the easel toward him.
“Paint me,” she said softly.
“Okay, but you have to hold that on your face,” Nathaniel told her gently.
When she did, Nate obeyed, painting Libby as he knew she imagined herself today, covered in big, black fear.
“Now use red. Cover it,” she instructed, tired. Red was her self-worth, her fight, and Christian in his red coat, protecting her.
As her eyes fell closed, Libby gave a final instruction. “Title it: Superhero, and make sure it doesn’t get lost.”
“Promise,” Nate said softly. “Now you get some sleep.
--
There was a fierce pounding on the door, and Cary ran to open it. He found Jon and Morgan, looking furious, standing on the Walkers’ front step.
“Why the hell do I have 12 billion messages saying that Liam beat the shit out of Libby?” Morgan demanded lowly.
“He’s on TV already! Apparently, he put some kind of status update about how sorry he is, and how he’s at fault and he’ll go to anger management. Didn’t mention that he took a shower at our house, and used Morgan’s towel to dry his pansy ass. He was all over her bed and updated from Morgan’s computer!” Jon exclaimed, not bothering to keep his voice down.
Cary blocked their entrance and closed the door behind them, keeping Morgan and Jon outside. “Because it’s true. He beat her pretty badly. She’s got a concussion and cuts and bruises. She needed stitches. Her nose is broken. Christian came in at the end of it. Apparently scared Liam off. He called 911 and stayed with her. Lucky said he walked in there and found CJ bare-chested, his coat, sweatshirt and tee shirt wrapped around her arms. He threw himself over her body and said if they touched her, he would knock their damn heads off. He spent most of the time trying to get the tape off her mouth.”
Jon put an arm around Morgan and held her close, grateful beyond words that she wasn’t the one so badly injured, but angry, too, that Liam would dare raise a hand to a woman like that.
Cary’s eyes looked bluer somehow in the fading outdoor light. He was sober-faced, without the smile that Morgan and Jon were so used to seeing.
Just then, Emily pulled into the driveway. “Jess asked if you two wanted to take him for the night. If not Nathaniel and I will. Jess, Coby and Em are taking shifts with Libby tonight. The concussion and everything. They want to make sure she doesn’t get worse.”
“We can take him,” Morgan volunteered.
“All right. He’s not too comfortable with the hero label. Just a head’s up. I’ll run in and get his bag. Jess and Coby don’t want him seeing Libby like this.”
Cary excused himself, while Christian made a beeline for the two on the steps. “Hey, Jon and Morgan! I ate so much pizza tonight! Almost as much as Emily!”
Emily gave them both hugs and whispered how grateful she was that they all still had each other, and then excused herself, going inside to check on Libby. The sentiment was enough to make Jon a little misty, so, to distract himself, he studied the kid’s wardrobe. It seemed she didn’t only get him pizza but also a new winter coat, to replace the one he used helping Libby. It was exactly like of the one he had before. The tags were still on. When Christian caught Jon staring, he unzipped his jacket and showed off the new white tee shirt and Patriots jersey she had bought him.
“Bam!” Christian exclaimed. “Look at that. Awesome, huh? Emily found a good deal on it. It’s way better than the sweater I went to school with, but don’t tell Mom and Dad or they might feel bad.”
“Wow!” Morgan exclaimed, picking him up and spinning him around. “Hey, do you want to come and spend the night at our house? We can have a pirate party and watch Pirates of the Caribbean,” she offered, smiling.
She already had ideas. They would go on a treasure hunt. Maybe make a map. Eat popcorn and drink hot chocolate. They would sleep in sleeping bags in front of the TV. Maybe, Jon would pitch a tent for them, and they could have a real campout. It was everything Christian had ever asked for when he spent the night. And Morgan wanted him to have everything. Looking into Jon’s eyes, she knew he agreed.
“Awesome!” Christian exclaimed and then grew very still. “Is Libby okay?”
The door opened again and Jess stepped out, holding an overnight bag and a piece of paper. “Hey CJ. Is it okay if you have a sleepover with Morgan and Jon tonight?”
“Yeah, that’s okay,” he nodded seriously.
Jess reached out and hugged him. “You did everything right,” she told him, feeling pride and hormones making tears imminent. But she took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Here. Libby wanted me to give this to you. She told Nate to paint it.”
Christian took the picture, scrutinized it, and then asked Jon for a pen, because he always kept one behind his ear from work. Then, Christian turned his back, hunched over the paper, using his leg as a table.
Then, he shoved the picture back at his mom.
“Give that back and tell her to keep it,” Christian said, sounding stunningly adult. Then, he put the bag over his shoulder and walked to Jon’s car in the fading light with Morgan and Jonathan in tow.
As snow fell around her, Jess turned the painting over in her hands. It still pictured Libby, with Christian’s red coat over her, but now it said:
REAL MAN Real men don’t hit. Real men protect. Love CJ.
Superhero
Jess sighed. This was one of the million reasons why she loved her son.
He had perspective and was wise beyond his years. He didn’t hesitate to step in and help a friend, even when he was scared. He had integrity. He had strength. He had courage beyond what a child of nearly eight should possess. He was amazing.
She covered her stomach with one hand, waving to Jon, Morgan and CJ with the other, praying that this child would have all the qualities their big brother did, and praying that this child would never have to be as brave as Christian had to be today.
Once the car disappeared down the street, Jess let herself inside, preparing for a long night, but grateful that Coby, Cary and Nathaniel and Emily were all gathered quietly in the living room. Sometimes they prayed and sometimes they just sat. Cary, watched the TV on mute, being careful to keep it tuned to safe channels like Nickelodeon and Disney, so there wouldn’t be an inadvertent news report. Libby didn’t need that.
Once supper was made, Jess settled down beside Libby, so she would always know someone was nearby. Emily also hung around upstairs while Coby, Nate and Cary went to see what they could start repairs on the room downstairs.
Now, more than ever, they were determined that Libby have a place of her own to do her art. A place where she could have peace and not worry about anything. And Jess knew that with her husband and Nate and Cary on the job, it would get done.
And it would be beautiful.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Stowaway: Chapter 7
Today, I’m kind of sad. I have so many amazing paintings and nowhere to put any of them. I started setting them up around the perimeter of Coby’s shop. He says he doesn’t mind, but I can’t help thinking that someday soon, he will. Even though I have a job now, and I love being the receptionist at Community, I can’t help thinking it isn’t enough. I’ve started paying them rent, because I can’t shake the feeling that something will happen. They always give it back, but I always keep trying.
Liam watched Libby from a distance. He was parked down the street in his rental car, disguised in a gray winter hat and brown coat. Leave it to Jess and Coby to allow all their blinds up when they left home. Liam watched her write in her journal, close it, and grab the keys off the counter. It impressed and angered him that she had gone behind his back and learned to drive. On the one hand, she was showing some initiative and not being so lazy, but on the other, it was just plain dishonest. He was going to have to give her a talking-to, and then take her home. That was all there was to it. At least she and Emily had chosen the smallest town.
It hadn’t been that hard to track down Libby. Stowe was a tourist town, so not only did everybody know everybody, but also his rented red Honda wouldn’t stick out. He had stayed the last few nights at the bed and breakfast where Jess worked. That was purely by God’s intervention. It was perfectly planned, because it gave Liam the opportunity to follow Jess home, once Liam learned that his sister lived with the Walkers now.
However, Liam hadn’t made himself known yet. He was going to wait until he calmed down. He was still angry about the 200 dollars he had spent on a flight to New Hampshire, the 150 dollars he spent renting the car for a week and the money for the room. In addition, he had given Libby a lot of money for this trip and so far, she wasn’t even acting grateful. He was going to insist she pay him back. All that would have been bad enough, but Liam also had to factor in the time it was taking. He had to take off work for a week, leaving the small group leaders to lead youth group at church, and people who probably didn’t even care about the kids to make sure the Boys and Girls Club was running smoothly. Libby hadn’t even bothered to come home for Thanksgiving!
Liam took a deep breath, steadying himself. He knew from his interviews around town that Libby had just gotten a job as a receptionist at that local church that wasn’t based on sound doctrine. Liam knew because he had gone to their website. She worked until one o’clock in the afternoon, and then returned home.
He overheard a conversation in the driveway that morning, too. Coby had a handyman job that was going to last until at least six o’clock that night.
“Would you mind watching Christian until Jess gets home tonight?” Coby had asked out the window of his car. “I wouldn’t normally ask, but I’ve got a late job and I know Emily’s busy, and Jess won’t be home until around supper.”
“No, I don’t mind at all. I can go pick him up at 2:30.”
Liam made a note to himself:
1-2 PM window.
Then, he drove back to pack his things. On the way, he scowled seeing Nathaniel out walking a homely looking black and white puppy with that Cary. Word had it that after all these years; Nathaniel was still washing dishes like he had in college. Cary, appropriately, was working at some bar - encouraging drunkenness. Liam knew that if you opened yourself up to one sin, others would follow. He couldn’t imagine corrupting good people He didn’t know what Nathaniel saw in him. Sure, there were the freckles and the dark hair, and the blue eyes…not that Liam was gay or anything. He would never allow that kind of sin in his life. He would kill himself first.
But Liam smiled as he walked in the room, finding it neat and tidy. He imagined Jess unknowingly cleaning it. Folding his pajamas, making the bed, and replacing all the used towels with fresh ones. That made him feel so much better. Jess, despite her faults, always had been good at taking care of people. He packed a few things in his bag, but didn’t check out of the room yet, in case of unforeseen circumstances.
Since he had some time to kill before the magic hour, Liam decided to stop by the mercantile, incognito of course. He walked in, keeping his head down, and pretended to browse, just to be close enough to hear Morgan’s voice.
“Thank you, and have a nice day,” she said to a customer behind him. Liam felt his chest swelling with love and betrayal all at once. He wished she would say that to him. He wished she would say anything to him, but so far, she had been cold and rude. Not like her old self at all. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was back on drugs already. It was really no wonder that Jonathan drug tested her.
Their house hadn’t been hard to find either. Yesterday, after he got over his jet lag, Liam had Tour Day. He talked to the townspeople and found out where everyone lived, asking them not to say anything because it was a surprise. This morning, when Liam didn’t see a car in Morgan’s drive, he had invited himself in. Everybody in Stowe was either naïve or stupid. They kept their doors unlocked so that anybody could get in. Therefore, Liam made himself at home.
He made himself a sandwich and then walked through the house until he found the bedroom. Liam wrinkled his brow. This room looked like a man slept here. It was neat as a pin. Finally, he caught sight of Jonathan’s hat hanging on the bedpost. If they were already living together, why wouldn’t they share a room? Or maybe, Morgan did sleep here, but he didn’t let her keep any of her stuff where people could see it.
Liam scowled. Then he went in and checked the drawers in his bedside table. He found a day planner, with a random day in each month circled and the word, test written in small letters. Liam went to the restroom and opened the medicine cabinet. There were Jon’s migraine pills just sitting there where Morgan could steal them. Liam shook his head. Jonathan was a bad boyfriend. He not only tempted her, he didn’t even trust her to stay clean. Liam saw the at-home barbiturate drug test right in the cabinet and shook his head, disapproving it.
Then, he darted into the bathroom and smelled her Hawaiian Lei body wash. Since Morgan and Jon weren’t due back for several hours, he took a shower using the body wash and ignoring Jonathan’s Old Spice High Endurance. He used the Suave shampoo that seemed to be mutual, and then finished, using a modest amount of Morgan’s Kukui Nut conditioning shampoo with Pacific Mist fragrance. It would have been cloying on anyone else, but on Morgan, it was perfect. And on him, it was, too.
When he was done, Liam never felt cleaner.
Last, he had gone to Morgan’s room. The first thing he did was take a deep breath. It smelled like her, and made tears come to his eyes. First, he went to her closet and inhaled the scent of all of her clothes. Then, he lay in her bed, imagining her in it, too. He flipped through her journal, looking for any mention of him, but there wasn’t. Liam discovered this was a shared journal with Jonathan after a few pages. Then, he wanted to throw up.
He turned on her computer and updated his online status:
William Wright is really missing people right now and wishing things could be different.
He had added a sad face with a tear and was going to shut everything down when he glanced at his watch. He realized Jonathan would be home soon on his lunch break.
Now, he was stuck simply hearing Morgan’s voice at a distance.
“Can I help you find anything?” Morgan asked, approaching him, and Liam jumped.
“No, thank you ma’am, I was just leaving,” he answered in a gruff voice. He hoped she wouldn’t remember all the times that he imitated the antagonist from The Rescuers Down Under. Then, he hurried out to his car.
--
Libby was going to have to hurry if she was going to make it home in time to pick up Christian. Just her luck that Emily would need her to help hang posters in the youth room and Bernice the sweet elderly lady would stop by “just to chat” and end up leaving two hours later. That didn’t even count the phone calls she handled. There were appointments to schedule, an angry parishioner to calm and plenty of people who wanted to sign up for the Messiah Sing, which made Libby excited. Christmas was only a few weeks away, which meant the Messiah Sing was even closer.
She hurried home, driving carefully to avoid an accident on the snow-covered, slippery roads. Libby pulled in the drive and walked down to the mailbox. Christmas cards were arriving every day, with beautiful New England scenes. Libby pulled out a handful of letters, closed the box and started back toward the house.
“What are you doing back so late?!” a voice accused her.
Libby turned, shocked to see her brother standing behind her. This was her worst nightmare come true.
“What are you doing here?” she stuttered. She glanced down at her watch, and bit her lip. It was somehow only a quarter after one, and Libby wished it was later. Wished she had some excuse, like picking up Christian, to fall back on.
Somehow, she thought that after doing the interview for Backward Glance, Liam would look different to her. More duplicitous, after using their suffering to get his own face and message out to the public, painting himself as the hero and them as villains.
But he just looked so hurt by her reaction, staring at her as if it shocked him. That got to Libby. As often as they didn’t get along, she never liked to hurt people, intentionally or otherwise.
“I came to see you. I wanted it to be a surprise, so I asked around, and someone said you were going to be home by one.” he said, sounding disappointed in his own behavior. “Look, I didn’t mean to overreact, I just missed you. Can I come in? Can we just talk for a few minutes?”
“Sure,” Libby said, relaxing. If he had traveled all this way to say hi, the least she could do was to be hospitable. She unlocked the door and invited him inside.
“Do you want something to eat?” Libby said, inviting him downstairs. They were set up well, with a microwave and a small refrigerator. She did her best not to eat Jess and Coby’s food unless she was invited, even though they both told her it was no big deal.
“Sure. What have you got?” he asked, peering into the tiny freezer. “Ooh, California Pizza Kitchen barbecue chicken?! You weren’t saving this, were you?” he asked hopefully.
“No, don’t worry,” Libby laughed. “It’s yours. So how are you? When did you get here? Where are you staying?”
This once, Libby found herself glad he was here. She did love her brother, and even missed having him around.
“I’m good now,” Liam said, reclining on the couch that looked more like a porch swing. He heard something crack beneath him and lifted the cushion to see Libby’s cell phone in pieces. He put the cushion back. He didn’t want to ruin the moment by telling her he broke her phone. They were having a nice time.
She got out the pizza and put it on a paper plate.
“Do you want something to drink? Water? Mountain Dew? That’s pretty much all we have, sorry,” she apologized.
“No, Mountain Dew is great,” Liam insisted. “So, you girls have a nice set-up down here. Can I have a tour?”
Liam had eaten the pizza in less than five minutes. It was that delicious. Libby had done most of the cooking back home, and before that, Jon and Nathaniel. Lately, he had been too depressed to eat, with the anniversary and everybody leaving him.
He followed her from room to room, looking in the bathroom to see it clean and colorful, with a nautical theme like the family room. Libby and Emily’s room was like a beachfront resort, and he could see Jess’s personal touches everywhere.
“What’s in there?” he asked, looking at the closed door in the laundry room as they passed it.
Libby shrugged. “Nothing, just another spare bedroom Coby’s cleaning out. There used to be weights in there or something. See?” she asked, pushing the door open.
The floor was littered with sawdust and a big wooden structure sat in the middle of the room. Various random tools Libby didn’t recognize were scattered around. There were sawhorses and cans of paint, and pieces of wood everywhere. A full-length mirror was still mounted on one wall. Libby imagined Coby, Christian, and maybe even Jess, checking out their muscles after working out. The thought made her smile.
“I’m so glad we’re leaving tonight,” Liam sighed, relieved. It hadn’t taken long for Liam to realize this would be easier than he thought. Libby missed him. She was obviously sorry. He would take her home with him and welcome her back, just like the father had done with his prodigal son.
Libby turned slowly. “We, who?” she asked confused. “Who are you leaving with?”
“You,” Liam said, as if it was obvious to anyone.
“Liam, I’m not leaving,” Libby said, sure of herself. “I have a job here. I have a life. I’ve been here over a month--”
“--Which is long enough for you to find yourself, or whatever it is you’re doing,” Liam cut her off. “Now, it’s time to go home and face reality.”
Libby planted her feet. “This is my reality, Liam. I’m happy here. My friends are here. We can rely on each other, and I’m not looked at like some weirdo, like I was back home. Everybody who does is just passing through anyway. I need to be out on my own.”
Liam’s eyes narrowed. “You know, I wasn’t going to do this,” he said taking a step toward her. “But do you know how upset Mom and Dad were that you didn’t come home on Thanksgiving? That you didn’t even call? I had to tell them that you lied to me and were off on some journey to find yourself. Oh, by the way? I had better get every one of the two-hundred dollars I gave you for your trip!” he spat.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, backing up. “You said that was a gift.”
“Not if it was based on a lie!” he exploded. “You’re lucky I’m not asking you for the thousand dollars I spent on you! And more that I’m out by not going to work this week!”
Libby reached in her pocket for her phone, but couldn’t find it, and swore quietly to herself. Just her luck that the one time she needed it, it wasn’t here. “Okay, you need to leave. You’re acting crazy. I’m not going with you. End of story.”
She turned, intent on leading the way back upstairs, but before she knew what was happening, Liam had grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her back into the room.
Libby fought the flashback that came every time her hair was pulled. The one of Buddy wrenching her out from under the table by her hair and pulling her to the front of the empty study room before he touched her. Before he slapped her. Before he tried to break her.
“You think you call the shots now?!” Liam screamed, shoving her into the wall. When she tried to run, he grabbed her hair again, yanking forcefully and landing a well-placed punch to her stomach.
“Stop! Please stop!” Libby begged, knowing even now that she would never say what he wanted to hear. She would never agree to go back.
“Are you going home with me?” he asked in a controlled tone. He didn’t make a move toward her, or raise a hand.
Libby shook her head, and didn’t have time to brace for the blow that knocked her head back. Blood poured from her nose as Liam continued to scream at her and berate her.
“You’re nothing but a little whore anyway!” His fist landed again and again. She felt the impact on her face, her stomach, her back. “And you wonder why that son-of-a-bitch hurt you? Because he could smell it on you! That you’d already been with somebody else!”
Libby didn’t have the breath to deny it. “I saw you, Libby! I saw him touch you when we played at his house! And those abusers?! They can tell when you’ve let it happen before!” With each word, there came another blow. “You were a little girl! He was a grown man! Do you know how wrong that is?!” With the last question, Liam heaved her up, and propelled her against a wall.
Libby didn’t see the mirror, but she felt it. It sliced into her arms as it shattered. Though she cried and begged him to stop, Libby drew strength from her friends. From Nathaniel who dealt with verbal and physical abuse his whole life from classmates, and from Buddy. From Morgan who offered herself in Nathaniel and Libby’s place. If they could take that, she could take this.
“You are not in charge!” Liam whispered breathlessly, twisting her arm painfully behind her back. “Are you?” he asked in her ear.
“Take your hands off me!” she screamed.
When he dragged her toward the door - one arm around her neck and the other hand over her mouth - Libby fought. She tried to scream, and when he pressed harder, she bit down on his hand until she tasted blood.
--
Now, Liam was angrier than he had ever been in his whole life.
“You probably gave me some disease!” he exclaimed, flinging her away from him, and ignoring when she into the scrap woodpile, striking her head on the floor.
Liam was about ready to really let her have it, when he heard something.
--
“Libby?” Christian called.
It was sure a good thing that he and his dad worked out who could take him home in case something came up, like forgetting on accident, or an emergency. He got a ride home from his friend’s mom. He nodded that it was okay for her to go, because he saw Libby’s car parked on the side of the driveway.
She was here somewhere, because he smelled pizza, and the mail flag was down.
“Libby, it’s Christian!” he called, in case she didn’t know.
He walked slowly down the stairs, smelling the pizza smell stronger and stronger.
--
Liam had to get out of here. The little kid was home. But he had to do one more thing.
With his injured hand wrapped in the bottom of his shirt, Liam made quick work of locating the electrical tape on the windowsill. He held it in his good hand, and ripped off a piece with his teeth, and then put it over Libby’s mouth.
She looked in bad shape. Blood was pouring from her nose and mouth. Her arms were bleeding through her shirtsleeves. She had bruises all over her face and under her clothes, too. One arm looked like it might be broken. If she told, then that would be the end for him. He would end up in jail. Not able to work at church or with children or anything. He knew because he remembered there being a specific question on both applications about ever having been arrested for a violent offense.
“Don’t you dare say a word!” he threatened, getting right in her face.
Libby whimpered, trying to move away from him. Tears tracked down her cheeks.
Since he heard the kid coming down the stairs, Liam did the only thing he could. He grabbed a chair and shattered the window. Then he climbed on the wooden structure in the corner and outside, running to his car.
The noise would scare the kid away, Liam thought desperately. It had to.
Liam watched Libby from a distance. He was parked down the street in his rental car, disguised in a gray winter hat and brown coat. Leave it to Jess and Coby to allow all their blinds up when they left home. Liam watched her write in her journal, close it, and grab the keys off the counter. It impressed and angered him that she had gone behind his back and learned to drive. On the one hand, she was showing some initiative and not being so lazy, but on the other, it was just plain dishonest. He was going to have to give her a talking-to, and then take her home. That was all there was to it. At least she and Emily had chosen the smallest town.
It hadn’t been that hard to track down Libby. Stowe was a tourist town, so not only did everybody know everybody, but also his rented red Honda wouldn’t stick out. He had stayed the last few nights at the bed and breakfast where Jess worked. That was purely by God’s intervention. It was perfectly planned, because it gave Liam the opportunity to follow Jess home, once Liam learned that his sister lived with the Walkers now.
However, Liam hadn’t made himself known yet. He was going to wait until he calmed down. He was still angry about the 200 dollars he had spent on a flight to New Hampshire, the 150 dollars he spent renting the car for a week and the money for the room. In addition, he had given Libby a lot of money for this trip and so far, she wasn’t even acting grateful. He was going to insist she pay him back. All that would have been bad enough, but Liam also had to factor in the time it was taking. He had to take off work for a week, leaving the small group leaders to lead youth group at church, and people who probably didn’t even care about the kids to make sure the Boys and Girls Club was running smoothly. Libby hadn’t even bothered to come home for Thanksgiving!
Liam took a deep breath, steadying himself. He knew from his interviews around town that Libby had just gotten a job as a receptionist at that local church that wasn’t based on sound doctrine. Liam knew because he had gone to their website. She worked until one o’clock in the afternoon, and then returned home.
He overheard a conversation in the driveway that morning, too. Coby had a handyman job that was going to last until at least six o’clock that night.
“Would you mind watching Christian until Jess gets home tonight?” Coby had asked out the window of his car. “I wouldn’t normally ask, but I’ve got a late job and I know Emily’s busy, and Jess won’t be home until around supper.”
“No, I don’t mind at all. I can go pick him up at 2:30.”
Liam made a note to himself:
1-2 PM window.
Then, he drove back to pack his things. On the way, he scowled seeing Nathaniel out walking a homely looking black and white puppy with that Cary. Word had it that after all these years; Nathaniel was still washing dishes like he had in college. Cary, appropriately, was working at some bar - encouraging drunkenness. Liam knew that if you opened yourself up to one sin, others would follow. He couldn’t imagine corrupting good people He didn’t know what Nathaniel saw in him. Sure, there were the freckles and the dark hair, and the blue eyes…not that Liam was gay or anything. He would never allow that kind of sin in his life. He would kill himself first.
But Liam smiled as he walked in the room, finding it neat and tidy. He imagined Jess unknowingly cleaning it. Folding his pajamas, making the bed, and replacing all the used towels with fresh ones. That made him feel so much better. Jess, despite her faults, always had been good at taking care of people. He packed a few things in his bag, but didn’t check out of the room yet, in case of unforeseen circumstances.
Since he had some time to kill before the magic hour, Liam decided to stop by the mercantile, incognito of course. He walked in, keeping his head down, and pretended to browse, just to be close enough to hear Morgan’s voice.
“Thank you, and have a nice day,” she said to a customer behind him. Liam felt his chest swelling with love and betrayal all at once. He wished she would say that to him. He wished she would say anything to him, but so far, she had been cold and rude. Not like her old self at all. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was back on drugs already. It was really no wonder that Jonathan drug tested her.
Their house hadn’t been hard to find either. Yesterday, after he got over his jet lag, Liam had Tour Day. He talked to the townspeople and found out where everyone lived, asking them not to say anything because it was a surprise. This morning, when Liam didn’t see a car in Morgan’s drive, he had invited himself in. Everybody in Stowe was either naïve or stupid. They kept their doors unlocked so that anybody could get in. Therefore, Liam made himself at home.
He made himself a sandwich and then walked through the house until he found the bedroom. Liam wrinkled his brow. This room looked like a man slept here. It was neat as a pin. Finally, he caught sight of Jonathan’s hat hanging on the bedpost. If they were already living together, why wouldn’t they share a room? Or maybe, Morgan did sleep here, but he didn’t let her keep any of her stuff where people could see it.
Liam scowled. Then he went in and checked the drawers in his bedside table. He found a day planner, with a random day in each month circled and the word, test written in small letters. Liam went to the restroom and opened the medicine cabinet. There were Jon’s migraine pills just sitting there where Morgan could steal them. Liam shook his head. Jonathan was a bad boyfriend. He not only tempted her, he didn’t even trust her to stay clean. Liam saw the at-home barbiturate drug test right in the cabinet and shook his head, disapproving it.
Then, he darted into the bathroom and smelled her Hawaiian Lei body wash. Since Morgan and Jon weren’t due back for several hours, he took a shower using the body wash and ignoring Jonathan’s Old Spice High Endurance. He used the Suave shampoo that seemed to be mutual, and then finished, using a modest amount of Morgan’s Kukui Nut conditioning shampoo with Pacific Mist fragrance. It would have been cloying on anyone else, but on Morgan, it was perfect. And on him, it was, too.
When he was done, Liam never felt cleaner.
Last, he had gone to Morgan’s room. The first thing he did was take a deep breath. It smelled like her, and made tears come to his eyes. First, he went to her closet and inhaled the scent of all of her clothes. Then, he lay in her bed, imagining her in it, too. He flipped through her journal, looking for any mention of him, but there wasn’t. Liam discovered this was a shared journal with Jonathan after a few pages. Then, he wanted to throw up.
He turned on her computer and updated his online status:
William Wright is really missing people right now and wishing things could be different.
He had added a sad face with a tear and was going to shut everything down when he glanced at his watch. He realized Jonathan would be home soon on his lunch break.
Now, he was stuck simply hearing Morgan’s voice at a distance.
“Can I help you find anything?” Morgan asked, approaching him, and Liam jumped.
“No, thank you ma’am, I was just leaving,” he answered in a gruff voice. He hoped she wouldn’t remember all the times that he imitated the antagonist from The Rescuers Down Under. Then, he hurried out to his car.
--
Libby was going to have to hurry if she was going to make it home in time to pick up Christian. Just her luck that Emily would need her to help hang posters in the youth room and Bernice the sweet elderly lady would stop by “just to chat” and end up leaving two hours later. That didn’t even count the phone calls she handled. There were appointments to schedule, an angry parishioner to calm and plenty of people who wanted to sign up for the Messiah Sing, which made Libby excited. Christmas was only a few weeks away, which meant the Messiah Sing was even closer.
She hurried home, driving carefully to avoid an accident on the snow-covered, slippery roads. Libby pulled in the drive and walked down to the mailbox. Christmas cards were arriving every day, with beautiful New England scenes. Libby pulled out a handful of letters, closed the box and started back toward the house.
“What are you doing back so late?!” a voice accused her.
Libby turned, shocked to see her brother standing behind her. This was her worst nightmare come true.
“What are you doing here?” she stuttered. She glanced down at her watch, and bit her lip. It was somehow only a quarter after one, and Libby wished it was later. Wished she had some excuse, like picking up Christian, to fall back on.
Somehow, she thought that after doing the interview for Backward Glance, Liam would look different to her. More duplicitous, after using their suffering to get his own face and message out to the public, painting himself as the hero and them as villains.
But he just looked so hurt by her reaction, staring at her as if it shocked him. That got to Libby. As often as they didn’t get along, she never liked to hurt people, intentionally or otherwise.
“I came to see you. I wanted it to be a surprise, so I asked around, and someone said you were going to be home by one.” he said, sounding disappointed in his own behavior. “Look, I didn’t mean to overreact, I just missed you. Can I come in? Can we just talk for a few minutes?”
“Sure,” Libby said, relaxing. If he had traveled all this way to say hi, the least she could do was to be hospitable. She unlocked the door and invited him inside.
“Do you want something to eat?” Libby said, inviting him downstairs. They were set up well, with a microwave and a small refrigerator. She did her best not to eat Jess and Coby’s food unless she was invited, even though they both told her it was no big deal.
“Sure. What have you got?” he asked, peering into the tiny freezer. “Ooh, California Pizza Kitchen barbecue chicken?! You weren’t saving this, were you?” he asked hopefully.
“No, don’t worry,” Libby laughed. “It’s yours. So how are you? When did you get here? Where are you staying?”
This once, Libby found herself glad he was here. She did love her brother, and even missed having him around.
“I’m good now,” Liam said, reclining on the couch that looked more like a porch swing. He heard something crack beneath him and lifted the cushion to see Libby’s cell phone in pieces. He put the cushion back. He didn’t want to ruin the moment by telling her he broke her phone. They were having a nice time.
She got out the pizza and put it on a paper plate.
“Do you want something to drink? Water? Mountain Dew? That’s pretty much all we have, sorry,” she apologized.
“No, Mountain Dew is great,” Liam insisted. “So, you girls have a nice set-up down here. Can I have a tour?”
Liam had eaten the pizza in less than five minutes. It was that delicious. Libby had done most of the cooking back home, and before that, Jon and Nathaniel. Lately, he had been too depressed to eat, with the anniversary and everybody leaving him.
He followed her from room to room, looking in the bathroom to see it clean and colorful, with a nautical theme like the family room. Libby and Emily’s room was like a beachfront resort, and he could see Jess’s personal touches everywhere.
“What’s in there?” he asked, looking at the closed door in the laundry room as they passed it.
Libby shrugged. “Nothing, just another spare bedroom Coby’s cleaning out. There used to be weights in there or something. See?” she asked, pushing the door open.
The floor was littered with sawdust and a big wooden structure sat in the middle of the room. Various random tools Libby didn’t recognize were scattered around. There were sawhorses and cans of paint, and pieces of wood everywhere. A full-length mirror was still mounted on one wall. Libby imagined Coby, Christian, and maybe even Jess, checking out their muscles after working out. The thought made her smile.
“I’m so glad we’re leaving tonight,” Liam sighed, relieved. It hadn’t taken long for Liam to realize this would be easier than he thought. Libby missed him. She was obviously sorry. He would take her home with him and welcome her back, just like the father had done with his prodigal son.
Libby turned slowly. “We, who?” she asked confused. “Who are you leaving with?”
“You,” Liam said, as if it was obvious to anyone.
“Liam, I’m not leaving,” Libby said, sure of herself. “I have a job here. I have a life. I’ve been here over a month--”
“--Which is long enough for you to find yourself, or whatever it is you’re doing,” Liam cut her off. “Now, it’s time to go home and face reality.”
Libby planted her feet. “This is my reality, Liam. I’m happy here. My friends are here. We can rely on each other, and I’m not looked at like some weirdo, like I was back home. Everybody who does is just passing through anyway. I need to be out on my own.”
Liam’s eyes narrowed. “You know, I wasn’t going to do this,” he said taking a step toward her. “But do you know how upset Mom and Dad were that you didn’t come home on Thanksgiving? That you didn’t even call? I had to tell them that you lied to me and were off on some journey to find yourself. Oh, by the way? I had better get every one of the two-hundred dollars I gave you for your trip!” he spat.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, backing up. “You said that was a gift.”
“Not if it was based on a lie!” he exploded. “You’re lucky I’m not asking you for the thousand dollars I spent on you! And more that I’m out by not going to work this week!”
Libby reached in her pocket for her phone, but couldn’t find it, and swore quietly to herself. Just her luck that the one time she needed it, it wasn’t here. “Okay, you need to leave. You’re acting crazy. I’m not going with you. End of story.”
She turned, intent on leading the way back upstairs, but before she knew what was happening, Liam had grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her back into the room.
Libby fought the flashback that came every time her hair was pulled. The one of Buddy wrenching her out from under the table by her hair and pulling her to the front of the empty study room before he touched her. Before he slapped her. Before he tried to break her.
“You think you call the shots now?!” Liam screamed, shoving her into the wall. When she tried to run, he grabbed her hair again, yanking forcefully and landing a well-placed punch to her stomach.
“Stop! Please stop!” Libby begged, knowing even now that she would never say what he wanted to hear. She would never agree to go back.
“Are you going home with me?” he asked in a controlled tone. He didn’t make a move toward her, or raise a hand.
Libby shook her head, and didn’t have time to brace for the blow that knocked her head back. Blood poured from her nose as Liam continued to scream at her and berate her.
“You’re nothing but a little whore anyway!” His fist landed again and again. She felt the impact on her face, her stomach, her back. “And you wonder why that son-of-a-bitch hurt you? Because he could smell it on you! That you’d already been with somebody else!”
Libby didn’t have the breath to deny it. “I saw you, Libby! I saw him touch you when we played at his house! And those abusers?! They can tell when you’ve let it happen before!” With each word, there came another blow. “You were a little girl! He was a grown man! Do you know how wrong that is?!” With the last question, Liam heaved her up, and propelled her against a wall.
Libby didn’t see the mirror, but she felt it. It sliced into her arms as it shattered. Though she cried and begged him to stop, Libby drew strength from her friends. From Nathaniel who dealt with verbal and physical abuse his whole life from classmates, and from Buddy. From Morgan who offered herself in Nathaniel and Libby’s place. If they could take that, she could take this.
“You are not in charge!” Liam whispered breathlessly, twisting her arm painfully behind her back. “Are you?” he asked in her ear.
“Take your hands off me!” she screamed.
When he dragged her toward the door - one arm around her neck and the other hand over her mouth - Libby fought. She tried to scream, and when he pressed harder, she bit down on his hand until she tasted blood.
--
Now, Liam was angrier than he had ever been in his whole life.
“You probably gave me some disease!” he exclaimed, flinging her away from him, and ignoring when she into the scrap woodpile, striking her head on the floor.
Liam was about ready to really let her have it, when he heard something.
--
“Libby?” Christian called.
It was sure a good thing that he and his dad worked out who could take him home in case something came up, like forgetting on accident, or an emergency. He got a ride home from his friend’s mom. He nodded that it was okay for her to go, because he saw Libby’s car parked on the side of the driveway.
She was here somewhere, because he smelled pizza, and the mail flag was down.
“Libby, it’s Christian!” he called, in case she didn’t know.
He walked slowly down the stairs, smelling the pizza smell stronger and stronger.
--
Liam had to get out of here. The little kid was home. But he had to do one more thing.
With his injured hand wrapped in the bottom of his shirt, Liam made quick work of locating the electrical tape on the windowsill. He held it in his good hand, and ripped off a piece with his teeth, and then put it over Libby’s mouth.
She looked in bad shape. Blood was pouring from her nose and mouth. Her arms were bleeding through her shirtsleeves. She had bruises all over her face and under her clothes, too. One arm looked like it might be broken. If she told, then that would be the end for him. He would end up in jail. Not able to work at church or with children or anything. He knew because he remembered there being a specific question on both applications about ever having been arrested for a violent offense.
“Don’t you dare say a word!” he threatened, getting right in her face.
Libby whimpered, trying to move away from him. Tears tracked down her cheeks.
Since he heard the kid coming down the stairs, Liam did the only thing he could. He grabbed a chair and shattered the window. Then he climbed on the wooden structure in the corner and outside, running to his car.
The noise would scare the kid away, Liam thought desperately. It had to.
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