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“That’s Jesse.” I whisper, pointing at the man in the shadows, aptly fulfilling the role of scrawny little sidekick. “The one in the black sweatshirt. That’s him.”
“Answer the question. Are you a cop?” Jesse steps forward, repeating his buddy’s question.
“We aren’t cops and we’re not here to cause trouble.” Rhett shifts his weight toward me. A protective stance. “I just want to have a quick chat with you.”
“Go fuck yourself,” Jesse responds, indignant.
Rhett doesn’t flinch. “Jesse, one of two things can happen here. You can take a walk with me outside and we can have a nice, calm chat, and then you can go about your business. Or I will drag you out by your hair and hold you down until you speak to me. It’s your decision. I’m fine either way.”
“Hang on…” The tattooed kid’s eyes widen. “You’re Rhett Cohen, aren't you?”
Someone gasps.
The twins take a step back.
The cave falls deathly silent.
There is an instant power shift in the room.
No matter the path Rhett chooses for his life he will always be remembered as the man who stabbed an innocent elderly woman to death. There will be no man—or group—whom he can’t intimidate. A blessing and a curse, I muse.
“What do you say, Jesse?” Rhett asks.
Tattoo-kid grabs Jesse’s arm and whispers in his ear. He must be number two in charge.
My eyes sweep the room.
I notice a mound of empty bottles in the corner, beer, liquor, wine. One catches my eye immediately—a cheap, knockoff brand of rosé. My mother is the only person I have ever seen drink that brand and flavor of wine.
Fragmented memories begin flashing behind my eyes. Broken glasses. Broken bottles. The rotten, sour scent of alcohol.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to chase away the visions. But instead I see her—her face, her broken body. Blood covers her torso, a bat next to her body, a bottle of rosé on the counter. She cries out for me:
Help, Sylvia, help.
My breath catches and I take a step backward. When I open my eyes, Rhett’s looking intensely at me.
He dips his chin—You okay?
I nod—Yes.
Yes.Yes, yes, yes.Get it together, Sylvia.
“I’ll come with you under one condition,” Jesse says, pulling me back to reality.
“What’s that?”
“That you won’t tell my parents or anyone where I’m at. And same for these guys, too,” he gestures around the room. “Never say you saw them.”
“Done.”
Jesse nods in victory, then flashes his friends anI-got-thislook before stepping forward. His eyes lock on Rhett’s as he passes, a glare of intimidation—as if the scrawny rat would stand a chance against him in a physical altercation.
Jesse leads the way through the cave.
I keep glancing over my shoulder, expecting the rest of his crew to stab us in the back on the way out.
Finally, the waning sunlight glows at the end of the tunnel. Jesse dips outside, Rhett follows, and then I emerge, inhaling the fresh mountain air. I decide promptly that I never want to return to that cave again.
