Page 22 of Dark Rules

“Hi, Dad. Yeah, it’s me. How are you feeling?”

“As if I’ve been run over by a fucking huge Mack truck,” he grumbled out and tried to sit up.

“No, stay where you are, Dad. You need to rest. Here, suck on some of these.” I rattled the cup at him, and he leaned back.

“That’s what I wanted anyway, boy. Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be in South Carolina working?”

“Well, Dad, your lung collapsed and you’re in ICU, so I thought I’d best come out here and see you. Work can wait.”

“Yes, it can. You’re a long damn time fucking dead, that’s for sure.” His words were slurred, and he kept swearing. I wanted to laugh because my father never swore, so it must be the medicine, but I choked it down and spoke soberly to him.

“Don’t let Mom hear you saying those words, Dad. I can still remember what that Ivory soap she washed my mouth out with when I was eight tastes like.”

“I’m grown, I can do what I want,” he grumbled, and then his head turned, and he laughed. “Isn’t that what all you kids say now?”

“I’m far from a kid, but yes; I suppose it is something my generation repeats often.” I knew it came from that cartoon on a cable network, I’d watched it as a teenager, but hadn’t seen it for a long time. A little chubby kid had said those words, on the show, when he was pretending to be out of control, and hearing the same words from Dad nearly cracked me up.

“Fuck it, I’m going to die soon, might as well have some fun, right?” The old man looked over at me and grinned. He’d lost more weight, and his skin had a sickly color to it. I wanted to say he looked healthy, fine, but he didn’t.

“You’ll be fine, Dad. The docs are going to pump you full of drugs, and you’ll be off like a shot before you know it.”

“I sure wish they’d do something for my pecker to make it go off like a shot.” This was said quietly as his head dropped off to one side, and I doubted he’d remember anything about this exchange. I laughed quietly and wiped a mirthful tear from my eye. He had to wake up, there was no way I could tell Mom that Dad’s last words had been about his penis.

If he did go now, though, I’d have something to laugh about for the rest of my life. It was a moment of comic relief that I’d desperately needed, and it was a shame he probably wouldn’t remember when he woke up. I wasn’t sure I could remind him about it either. Poor Dad, he’d die of embarrassment if I told him.

“Is he okay? Did he wake up?” Mom came in quietly and stood beside me.

“Um, yeah, he did. I think he’s groggy still. He saw me, we talked for a minute, and then he just dropped off.”

“That’s a good sign at least. If he’s fighting the medicine to wake up and talk to you, then he’s got some spirit left in him. Let me talk with the nurse, then you can head home and get some rest, honey.”

“I’m fine, Mom.” I turned to stop her from going, but she’d left already. The room was small, the bed he was in filled most of it, and there wasn’t much room to maneuver in, so I waited on her to come back.

She returned and insisted I go get some sleep. I thought I wouldn’t be able to get any, but by the time I got into my now dusty apartment, I was exhausted and fell straight into bed. I dreamed about Stephanie, about watching her at the window, and how very much I’d wanted her. Even in my dreams she was selfless and comforted me. I curled around her, beneath a large oak tree as we listened to the surf roll nearby.

In the dream, I could be soft, gentle, and held her close. I might not be able to do it in real life, but I could do anything in my dreams. That included loving pretty little Miss Stephanie.

Dylan

Dad was in the hospital for a week before they released him. The good news was, he’d been released. The bad news was, it would take him some time to recover fully. This time, I insisted Mom hire a private nurse to come in and give her a hand. I’d found an agency that had highly trained staff, with very good recommendations.

I’d waited for a couple days to make sure everyone was settled in, before I decided to go back to Stephanie. To South Carolina. Mom really liked the young woman who came to help, a professional young woman whose name was Mary. Mom loved her from the first moment she’d laid eyes on her and the pair got on well, so I felt comfortable leaving them.

I didn’t want to say it, but I’d missed Stephanie terribly. She’d already agreed to an extra week on the contract, since I’d spent a week out of town. We’d talked on the phone every night, sometimes during the day, and I’d really come to see her as a friend and a lover. She was always there, on the other end of the line, to support me and offer me a break from the stress. I didn’t tell her about it, but I’d hated being back here.

Not because of Mom or Dad, but because of my real parents, because of the rumors that had been spread about me and them. I didn’t want to think about that time in my life, but people here, big city or not, couldn’t let it go. My face had been on the news, in the papers, with the most salacious and awful headlines. People couldn’t forget that; they weren’t supposed to. Not a single person had been able to undo the damage of those headlines, not the police, not the court system, not the juvenile system that had been put in place to protect me. Not even other parents, parents who had known me.

I’d been in four foster homes before I went to the James household. Each one had dumped me, told my caseworker outrageous lies to get rid of me, but I knew it was the stares of other parents, the way they all whispered about me, that caused the foster parents to get rid of me. They couldn’t handle the association of being a killer’s caretaker, even if he was a kid. And not a killer at all.

My hands had bunched up so tight I’d almost crushed my phone to death. I put it down and got up from the couch I’d been sprawled on. What was I supposed to do, scream at everyone back then? Scream until someone listened to me? Nobody had, not until I’d been placed with the James family. Then I’d finally known what a family was, what affection was, and what it meant to be comforted.

It had taken them a little while, but soon, I’d learned that I wouldn’t be hit or abused, I wouldn’t be cast off, as I had been with everyone else. They took me in back then, and they still hung on to me today. They’d never let me go, and that was probably what had saved me from a life that nobody should have to live. They’d sheltered me, put me in a new school, and had squashed any rumors about me with threats of removing their monetary funding from the school. They made a very hefty donation each year, and the school wanted that. Rumors did not persist about it, and at last, I’d flourished.

But now, I was back, and people had started to notice. That was why I’d stayed away so often, for so long. To avoid those rumors, to quell the problems it would cause Mom and Dad. They didn’t care, they ignored it all, rose above it, but I knew, I heard the whispers, and I still wanted to bash a head or two in because of it.

Stephanie kept me calm, even if she didn’t know it. The promise of what she had to give me kept me level, kept me in check, and that was the best gift she could give me right now. It meant I could be around for Mom and Dad and help them. Not just run from the rumors, like I always did.

Even after the trial, when the truth came out, people still persisted with their whispers. Sometimes, I’d wondered if they were right. I read about false memories once, and I’d wondered if I’d done something but forgotten it. I’d read about that too, how people could bury parts of their past so deep they didn’t remember it at all. There’d been a proper, legal trial, though. I’d been released, free to go. Eventually, I’d stopped wondering, but at times, I felt almost driven to lash out at people. The men with their glares, the women with their snickers; I just wanted to crush them all.