Broken Identity (8 page)

Ronnie slurped the last of his melted smoothie through his straw and dramatically patted his stomach. “I’m so full, I feel like I could bust!”

Andrew poked at a banana clump with his straw and decided he wouldn’t try to finish his. “Oh, you are, are you?” he said casually. “Then you’re probably too tired to help me get your toys out of the car and—”

“No, wait! I can do that! I’m not so full I can’t walk.”

Andrew stood and took their glasses to the sink. “All right, then. Follow me.”

Ronnie was overjoyed to discover that his uncle hadn’t forgotten a single item. He busied himself by lining up his stuffed animals against the wall as Andrew lugged in the heavier things.

“No, I want my toy box over there, next to the giraffe,” Ronnie said as he stood on his bed, ordering his uncle all over his room every time he changed his mind about something. He gave him a thumbs-up when the last item was set in place. “Perfect.”

Andrew wiped his forehead and sat beside Ronnie on the edge of the bed, bowing the mattress with his weight. “And we’re done.”

“You’re sweaty,” Ronnie said, as if that weren’t already a well-known reality to Andrew.

Andrew looked down at his wet shirt and sucked in another deep breath of air. “Thanks to you. Do you mind?”

“As long as you don’t smell,” Ronnie said, flashing him a cautioning look.

Andrew laughed out loud. “Thank you for your bluntness.”

“I don’t know what
bluntness
means, but you’re welcome anyway.”

Andrew gazed around the room and guessed it to be almost twice the size of Ronnie’s old bedroom. “Wait…one thing’s missing.”

Ronnie looked around him, confused. “What?”

Andrew pulled out a container of colorful thumbtacks from his pocket. “Your puzzles. Don’t tell me you’re going to keep them under your bed where no one can see them. You ought to cover the walls with them.”

Ronnie looked stunned. “You mean you’ll let me do that? Poke holes in the wall?”

Andrew pulled out a puzzle of an underwater scene and held it out in front of him. “I think these masterpieces deserve to be seen.”

Ronnie smiled sheepishly and threw his arms around his uncle. “Thanks, Uncle Andy. Here, let me help.”

Andrew hung all six puzzles, letting Ronnie once again decide for himself where each one would go. “Now the room’s complete. Like it?”

Ronnie nodded. “A lot. It’s really big too. Bigger than my other room was.”

Andrew sat down beside Ronnie again and said, “Do you know what tomorrow is, Ronnie?”

Ronnie stared up at the ceiling as he thought. “Wednesday? Because today’s Tuesday, right?”

“Yes. Wednesday is a church day. Have you ever been to church?”

“A little. Sometimes Daddy and Mommy would take me at Christmas to watch a play.” Ronnie’s voice cracked slightly at the mention of his parents. He wasn’t sure if that scar would ever leave his life. He looked up at Andrew and said, “Are they having a play tomorrow at your church?”

Andrew chuckled and shook his head. “No.”

“Then why are you going? I thought that’s why people go. That’s why Daddy and Mommy went.”

“Well, you see, Ronnie, church is where we go to learn about Jesus and sing songs to Him. It’s a place where we go so we can get close to God and hear about the Bible. It’s important that we go to church.”

Ronnie nodded his head, even though he still didn’t quite understand. “How come?”

“Because Jesus loves us. Do you know that?”

Ronnie shrugged. The only love he had ever felt in his life came from the one sitting beside him now. As far as he knew, no other form of love existed. “Why do you love Jesus, Uncle Andy? Did He do something for you?”

Andrew tried not to appear disappointed.
Oh, Ronnie. If you only knew.

Drake still tasted vomit. Still felt the anesthetic of shock. He had his hands on the steering wheel like he was going to strangle it. Someone was not going to be happy to know he had found out. Everything.

Drake hit the brakes midway into his driveway and let the screeching sound be the only warning. As he jumped out of his truck and banged the door shut behind him, he realized he was still shaking.

You’re dead. Nothin’ but a dirty liar.
Drake felt sick again and gripped his stomach. A mass of emotions was about to send him over the edge. Every step forward felt like electricity.
You’re dead, old man. Your secret’s finally come out.

Rain pelted against Drake’s light jacket as he took the stairs with heavy, crushing steps. He tried the screen door and found it locked. He slapped the palms of his hands against the cheap glass and yelled, “Let me in! We need to talk!”

The lights were all off, but Drake could vaguely make out a large figure moving toward the door at a snail’s pace. “Hurry up!” he shouted, striking the door harder. He heard several screen doors creaking open across the street and knew he had attracted an audience. Well, if they wanted a show, then they might as well pull out the lawn chairs now and start the popcorn, because Drake was about to give the whole neighborhood the shock of its life.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’!” Ben yelled back. He was wearing a ratty pair of blue-jean shorts and had a shirt draped over his shoulder. “What’s wrong with you, Drake? You high or somethin’?”

“Why did you lie to me?” Drake said strictly, forcing his way inside.

“Leave me alone. I’m going out.”

Drake blocked the door. “Don’t think you’re going to run off to get drunk somewhere before explaining to me why you lied about Mom!”

“I don’t know what you took last night or where you got it from, but it’ll probably wear off in a few hours, so I suggest you go to bed before the migraine starts,” Ben said indifferently, still thinking his son to be drunk from too much beer.

Drake refused to budge. “Why did you kill her?”

Ben spun around. He said nothing, but his stunned face said all Drake needed to know. “Your theatrics are getting old, Drake. Like I said, go to bed.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” Drake pressed, his voice still raised. “I read it online. Her drowning, her trial, and how you tried to cover it up!”

Ben felt the breath drain out of him. He swallowed and looked away.

“Oh, but I wasn’t supposed to know, was I?” Drake said coldly, his hands trembling to hit something. “It was my fault. She left because of me. Wasn’t that the story?” He swatted the lamp to the left of him onto the ground just to hear it shatter.

“Breaking everything in this house isn’t gonna change things!”

“Then what’s it gonna take?! What’s it gonna take to penetrate through those stone layers of your skull?”

“Out!” Ben yelled, pointing his finger to the door. “If this is what I can expect of you being out of school now, you can go. I’m not gonna waste time and money supporting you anymore.”

“I’m not done talking.”

“Well, I’m done listening.”

“No, you’re gonna listen. You drowned the only person who cared anything about—”

“All right! So you found out she died! But before you go accusin’ me of somethin’, it might interest you to know that she—”

“I know she had a sleeping disorder!” Drake interrupted. “Narcolepsy. I read it in her journal.”

“Well, there you go. That’s how she drowned. Every time it hit her, she just conked out and stayed asleep for up to half an hour sometimes. I found her like that in the bathtub at the hotel, but I never told you because I wanted to protect you.”

Drake made himself laugh despite his rage. “Protect me? Protect
me?
You mean protect yourself. When the matter went to court, all you had to do was show the judge Mom’s doctor reports, and you were a free man. I read all that online too. Probably even had to buy a bottle of eye drops to put in your eyes so your tears would look believable to the jury.”

“That’s a lie!”

“This is the same old story you told the jury twelve years ago, isn’t it? Isn’t it?! Just say it! I want to hear you admit—”

“Enough! Get out of my house!”

“I’m not listening to you anymore,” Drake said through clenched teeth. “You’ve kept me blind for too long, and I’m not gonna take it anymore.”

“I said
get out!”

“The autopsy report showed bruising under her skin. She didn’t fall asleep; you held her down under the water and watched her die.”

Ben began to show fear.

“You’re a fool. You should’ve known I’d find out.”

“I didn’t—”

“You should’ve known I wouldn’t stay little forever. I grew up, got stronger…you really didn’t think about that, did you?”

“About what?”

The muscles in Drake’s face contracted as he said, “I’m going to kill you for what you did.”

Ben took a step back and defensively held out a hand in front of him. “You don’t know what you’re doing, Drake.”

“You knew what you were doing when you killed Mom,” Drake snarled, moving closer.

“I had no other choice! She was fine one day, and then the next she just…just changed. That wasn’t my fault though! I couldn’t stand hearing her talk about God and Jesus all the time.
He
wasn’t her husband; I was. But she wouldn’t listen. She never listened to me.”

“You were jealous over a
Book
she was reading? Is that it? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? I don’t know whether to believe this or call it insanity.”

“She wasn’t the woman I married. She stopped wanting to have fun after she got God.”

“No, it went deeper with you.”

“I had nothing to do with—”

“Then why not divorce her? Gah, you held her
underwater?
You sick—”

“It wasn’t supposed to go that far.”

“That’s why you sent me away to Grandpa’s that day. So you could perform your sick little murder while I was away without any problems. For twelve years, you thought you got away with it, but now you’re going to pay. And you’re going to feel every drop of pain like you made her feel.”

“Don’t try me, Drake!” Ben cautioned, stepping back toward the fireplace. “I’m warning you!”

Drake saw his dad craftily move his arm around his body. He immediately jumped back as soon as his dad brought down an iron poker on the spot where he was standing only a second before. Before his dad had a chance to raise the poker again and swing it at him, Drake made his move.

He swung his right fist around and let it sink deep into his dad’s cheekbone.

Ben stumbled and tried to maintain his balance. He swatted at the air as he fell.

Too late. Drake watched the back of his head land directly on the cold, hard stone of the fireplace hearth.

Thud.

Drake stood there guardedly, waiting for his dad to get up. “Stand up and fight! I’m not finished with you yet!”

Ben never moved. Drake wasn’t even sure if he saw him breathing.

Drake took a few steps back as soon as he saw the pool of blood begin to flow from the back of his dad’s head.

What have I done?

Chapter

5

F
UGITIVE

Drake Pearson didn’t know what he was doing or where he was going, only that he had to get as far away as he could from his home.
A murderer
, he kept repeating to himself.
I’m a murderer. That means prison, life, or worse…death row.

OK, back up, back up. It had started off all talk. Arguing. There were threats…he said he was going to kill him, but that was just an offshoot of his anger. From the beginning, he had never actually intended on killing his father.

A lot of good that does now.
He had planned on a fight, though. A long, bloody fight, even if it meant just as many bruises on him as he gave his father. Anything to make his dad feel a percentage of the pain his mom must have endured as she gasped for air during the last moments of her life. He had had no idea what kind of shape his old man was in, but he certainly hadn’t planned on the fight being over in one blow.

Now there was a dead body. He had sentenced himself to this fate. The guilt had been shifted, and with the authorities after him, who knew if he would be able to get away?
Stupid, Drake. Real stupid. You’ve really outdone yourself this time. Can’t you ever do anything right?

Drake slowed to a stop in front of the railroad tracks bordering the outskirts of town as soon as he saw whirling lights in the distance, warning him of an oncoming train. He struck his hand against the steering wheel but held his tongue from saying anything only because he knew it wouldn’t do any good.

Where are you going?
He braced his forehead in his hand and realized he had no plan.
Leave the state. Go anywhere. Isn’t much else you can do now.

His duffel bag was still in the passenger seat like a quiet companion. Hard to believe all this started from a few empty pages in a journal. One argument. One blow. It was never meant to lead to this.

Drake’s eyes followed the train as it rumbled past. He listened to the tracks shudder and groan beneath the weight as he let his mind drift. He hadn’t been here in so long that he had almost forgotten its name. Though not official, this railroad was known by all the townsfolk as Penny Tracks, due to a legend almost as old as the scrub brush that had fossilized itself against the tarnished metal plates of the tracks.