Keeping the Tarnished (10 page)

Chapter Nineteen

Awake

Johnny

He heard the knock on the door, yet it wasn’t registering that he needed to open his eyes, that he needed to wake up. Finally, he cracked his eyes open as he heard the door handle turn.

“Hello? Sleepyhead? Are you hungry?” It was Graye, peeking her head in the door and smiling.

Johnny had fallen asleep looking out the window. His head had been resting on his folded arms on the windowsill. The last time he looked at the alarm clock it said it was after four in the morning. He had persistently kept a vigilant watch the majority of the night. He was exhausted, but he hadn’t had any dreams.

As he looked at Graye, he smiled with puffy eyes and yawned. “What time is it?” the boy asked as he sat up and stretched his arms, yawning again.

“Well, you are a sleepyhead today. It’s almost ten. Jared and Bryce went with their dad to look at some boxer puppies.” Graye began shaking her head. “Jared tried to wake you, but he said you were zonked out. I told all three of them the last thing we need around here is another mouth to feed,” Graye said as she entered the room. Her face gave the impression that she instantly recognized those to be a poor choice of words.

Johnny immediately diverted eye contact and look down toward his bedding, unsure of how to respond.

“Johnny, I didn’t mean that in any way toward you. I only meant we have so many dogs.” The woman sat down on the bed next to him. “You are very special to me and this family. I will be happy to feed you as long as you can stomach my cooking.”

Johnny could feel the woman’s friendly smile, begging for forgiveness. He looked at her and returned the smile, as he knew the woman would never intentionally say something that hurtful to him.

“I know I can
throw down
on some food, so I appreciate you keeping me fed,” the boy said as he started to chuckle.

“Oh, no. It spreads like a virus!” Graye said, placing her palm on her forehead as she began to laugh lightly. “Well, you have a whole plate of biscuits and gravy, and several slices of bacon to throw down on when you’re ready,” the woman said as she looked at Johnny’s pile of dirty clothes.

“Well, now’s as good a time as any. All that sleeping made me pretty hungry,” Johnny said sarcastically as he yawned again and scratched his head.

“Okay then. I, young man, will just go get that heated up for you.” Graye stood from the bed and walked to Johnny’s pile of dirty clothes, gathering the pile in her arms.

As she headed out the bedroom door, Johnny couldn’t help but wonder, again, what had prompted this family to be so kind? He had nothing to offer them other than miniscule assistance on the farm. He once again reminded himself that he shouldn’t question, but be grateful.

Johnny looked once more in the direction of the window. He consciously understood that the paranoid behavior was completely unproductive and unnecessary. Hopefully today he would be able to turn it off and enjoy the day as it came.

He was in a surprisingly good mood that morning. The coyote, the conversation with Jackson, and Sunny’s death were all things that were out of his control. Johnny understood there was nothing he could physically do to alter the events that occurred the previous day. It puzzled him how well he could rationalize digesting an entire day’s worth of trauma because it was out of his control, and then stare out the window for hours in a panic fueled frenzy. As he turned from the window, he stood from the bed and headed for the door.

When he walked down the hall to the stairs, the smell of hickory-smoked bacon became increasingly present. He wasn’t even very hungry, but he hadn’t eaten bacon in years. He thought of how the family used mealtime as a social gathering, a reassurance of unity. The times around the table were basically a chance to disclose the day’s events and reminisce on funny stories. He loved sitting at the table with the family.

He walked down the stairs, hearing Graye humming some tune and the sound of dishes being placed in the sink. He felt his cheeks lift in an uncontrollable smile. He loved it here. He loved how the family rallied together and overcame adversity as a team. They supported each other and helped one another when needed. Johnny loved being able to witness how a normal family functioned and existed.

As he entered the kitchen, he saw his plate on the table. Perhaps he was hungry after all as he eyed the two large, homemade biscuits smothered in white gravy.

“Do you want some orange juice, or maybe some milk?” Graye asked as she watched Johnny walk into the kitchen. Beyond the smell of breakfast, the smell of lavender dish soap was lingering as Graye rinsed the suds from her hands under the sink water.

“Um, I’ll take some milk if that’s all right,” Johnny replied as he approached the table.

“That’s just fine,” Graye said sweetly as she grabbed a drying glass from the counter and walked to the refrigerator.

“Sweetie, I have to run into town today to grab a few things. Would you like to go with me just to get out of the house?”

“Yea, that sounds good,” Johnny said as he pulled his chair out from the table. He was hoping that the trip wouldn’t produce another line of questioning. He sat down, grabbing his fork and cutting into one of the biscuits.

“Are the dogs still penned up?” Johnny asked with a mouth full of food.

“Yep. They seemed pretty shook up, so we let them out for a few minutes this morning, but then it was back to the pen. I’m surprised the house doesn’t smell like a family of skunks.” The woman sat Johnny’s glass of milk down by his plate. As Johnny chewed his food, he looked up at Graye.

“Do you think they know Sunny is dead?” Johnny asked, still chewing.

“Well, I think they have their own way of mourning loss, but I’m sure they don’t completely understand what happened.”

As Johnny ate, he looked at Graye and wondered again of his own mother. He found it strange that Graye would go so far out of her way to let him know how much he meant to her, and how much she appreciated his existence, and his own mother made no effort after leaving to return and rescue him. He understood the woman had her own setbacks to overcome, but he’d always prayed she’d eventually return while his father was at work to collect him. He understood there were several things that were out of the woman’s control, but being with Graye for the short time assured him that his mother could have done more. She didn’t have to leave him. She could have protected him, ruined or not.

As Graye opened the fridge, it reminded Johnny of the coyote.

“Is the coyote still in the cooler outside?

“No, Jackson took it into town when they went to look at the pups. I’m sure they’ll be coming home with one of them,” Graye said, shaking her head again.

It came over him faster than a swarm of vengeful wasps. His heart rate soared to the point that he felt it pounding in his fingertips and eyeballs. He swallowed a large piece of crisp bacon without chewing it completely. He could feel it slowly moving down his esophagus, scraping all the way down. He looked to Graye as she walked to him with a look of concern plastered across her face.

“Are you okay, sweetie?”

“Are…are you gonna answer that?” Johnny heard himself blurt out.

Graye looked confused, as if she had no idea what the boy was talking about.

“Answer what, Johnny?” she replied as Johnny stood from the table.

“There’s someone at the door, what if it’s him? I heard someone at the door.” Johnny walked backward in the direction of the laundry room, convinced someone had knocked at the door. He was horrified at the prospects of it being his father.

Graye placed the milk back in the fridge as Johnny retreated to the laundry room.

The sound of his father’s truck engine was not only humming in his ears, it invaded them in an oppressively resounding loudness. The way the truck would nearly stall, and sputter—it was too clear to be anything but real. Johnny was certain he was here. His father was here.

“Sweetie, there’s no one there. Nobody was knocking, and there are no vehicles outside,” Graye said as she entered the room. “Johnny, what’s wrong, sweetie? Honey, are you afraid of your father finding you here?” The woman’s soft words overpowered the delusional sounds of the engine, replacing them within his head as Johnny lowered his shaky hands from either ear.

He looked at Graye. He knew she wouldn’t lie, but convincing himself that there was no immediate danger lurking at the front door was proving difficult. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I just, I just thought I heard someone knocking. There was…I thought I heard knocking and the truck. There’s no truck? There’s not a truck out there nowhere?” Johnny asked with a shaky voice. The boy could clearly tell his actions had the woman concerned for him.

“Sweetheart, no one is going to find you here, and if they do the only way you are leaving with them is if you want to.” Graye’s words seemed to calmly bring Johnny out of the manic state of confusion. “And, Johnny, just so you know, we have a lot of ammunition in this house if someone wants to try.”

Johnny felt his stomach contents settle once again in his belly as his heart rate steadied to a normal pace.

“You want to try to finish up your breakfast?” Graye asked in a calming tone.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And Johnny, you have nothing to apologize for, okay?” the woman said reassuringly.

With that statement, Johnny felt he was more concerned with what Graye thought about his behavior, but her comments were kind and reassuring and seemed to ease his tension.

The boy made his way back to his plate, feeling slightly embarrassed, yet completely relieved his father wasn’t truly there.

Chapter Twenty

Bethany

The remainder of the day had gone by without incident. Johnny was correct in assuming Graye would question him regarding his past, yet the boy didn’t find her approach nearly as intrusive as Jackson’s. He told her of his mother’s battle with addiction, and of how much he missed his little brother. Johnny didn’t disclose anything about his father; but then, Graye hadn’t really pushed him to talk, she simply asked open-ended questions and let him disclose what he felt comfortable discussing.

He now sat in the living room, feeling mentally exhausted and in desperate need of sleep as the evening was well underway. Graye’s assumption that her family would ultimately bring home yet another puppy was correct.

The boxer pup, Bethany, was quite a handful. Jared seemed to appreciate the pup’s playful antics, but Johnny found her fondness for toes and her needle sharp teeth to be almost too much. He was thankful the pup wasn’t black. She boasted the typical boxer color pattern. She looked healthy and bright-eyed.

The entire family sat on the large leather couch as Johnny watched the fat puppy bounce about the room, looking for toes to bite mercilessly.

“I think I’m gonna turn in early tonight, if that’s okay with everyone,” Johnny proclaimed. His eyes felt as though they’d been under a blow dryer. He understood he was exhausted from the previous night’s road watch.

“You feel okay, man?” Jared asked. The boy continued to allow his feet to be used as chew toys.

“Yea, I’m just sleepy,” Johnny replied.

“Maybe we should all turn in early. It’s been a long couple of days, and I know someone is going to be getting up early with Bethany,” Jackson said as he looked at his son.

“Night everyone,” Johnny said as he stood from the couch.

“Goodnight, sweetie,” Graye replied with a smile.

“Goodnight, bud. You want to ride with me if I get a call in the morning?” Jackson asked as Johnny walked past them.

“Yea, that’d be awesome.” Johnny was genuinely excited about the invite, but instantly hoped any such trip wouldn’t result another interrogation.

“Hold up, man. I’ll head up with you.” Jared said as he stood up from the floor, holding Bethany. He handed the wriggling puppy to his father with a smile. “You have fun with that,” the boy said and quickly walked to the stairs, laughing.

“I see how it is,” Jackson said, smiling. The two boys headed up the stairs.

As they reached the hallway at the top, Johnny felt Jared staring him down. “You sure you’re okay, man?” the boy asked Johnny yet again.

“I’m sleepy. That’s it, dude.” Johnny smiled and lightly socked Jared in the arm.

“All right, all right,” Jared replied as he made two fists and air boxed by Johnny’s head.

“Goodnight, dude,” Jared said as Johnny headed down the hall to his room.

“Goodnight, man,” Johnny replied, yawning.

Graye’s comments in the laundry room had made Johnny feel less tense. As he crawled into his bed, he avoided even looking at the window. He pulled the covers up to his chin and almost instantaneously, he felt his eyes grow heavy. He put either of his index fingers in his ear canals in an effort to drown out any outside noise, real or not.

The puppy was just a mutt. Johnny had no idea what kind she was. He only knew that she needed something to eat. The pup’s ribs were showing, and her black coat was filthy dirty and she was infested with fleas. The puppy had followed him from the convenience store as Johnny walked home. The cranky clerk with ugly red hair had no idea where the dog came from. During the walk, the puppy would grow tired and fall behind. Johnny was torn. He knew his father would not allow him to keep the dog, but he also knew the puppy needed help.

Thankfully the pup liked the chickens, and they didn’t seem to mind her. Johnny had taken some bread from the kitchen, removed the molded portions, and mixed it with several eggs from the coop in a bowl. Johnny sat in the straw with the small dog inside the chicken coop. The pup wolfed down the mixture as the sun was setting and the inside of the coop was getting dark. Johnny watched the small pup yawning contently after she finished her meal. The boy tucked the puppy in straw and the old towel he took from inside. He knew he needed to get inside the house and to his room before his father got home. The puppy yawned and laid her head down as Johnny pet her one more time, and then stood up to go inside. The exhausted puppy made no effort to follow him out the door. Her swollen belly was huge, as this was probably the first time the pup had eaten in at least a few days.

He left the chicken coop, taking the time to look around and enjoy the calm, quiet evening. As Johnny looked at the outside of his father’s house, he was once again ashamed to have to live in such atrocious conditions. The boards on the back of the house were warped, and some had fallen off, exposing the insulation underneath. The roof overhang had several holes in it where animals had chewed through and taken residence in the attic. As he looked at the yard, he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. When people drove by, they had to think poorly of the property in general. There were several large metal pieces of cars, scattered garbage, and even an old mattress. Johnny was not allowed to touch any of it, let alone attempt to clean it up. For whatever reason, his father was convinced he needed everything there.

As he headed to the door, he heard his father’s truck from down the road. Johnny hated the sounds and sights of the old truck. Every time he heard it, he knew that his father was home, and there was no chance for any type of relaxation.

Quickly, Johnny rushed through the backdoor and through the kitchen. As he made his way down the hall, he heard the grumbling from the engine as it pulled into the drive. Johnny made it to his room and closed the door behind him in plenty of time. He heard the creak the old truck door made when it opened, and then he heard it slam. He then heard his father whistling some tune. Johnny hoped the puppy wouldn’t respond to his father’s whistling. He was hopeful that his father might be in a decent mood, as he rarely whistled. He listened as the backdoor came open, and then the thud of his father’s boots as he took a few steps inside. There was a sound of a paper sack crinkling in his hand. Johnny assumed his father had gone to the liquor store prior to coming home. As he sat on the bed, he prayed his father would drink heavy and quickly, and that he would pass out quickly as well.

Johnny’s heart felt as though it had stopped in place as the sound of his father’s boots were coming down the hall at a quick pace—right to Johnny’s room. As the door flung open, Johnny did everything possible to avoid eye contact with his father.

“If you’re hungry, I got some shit from the quick stop,” his father said in a relatively pleasant manner. Johnny was actually a bit shocked by the offer.

Reluctantly, the boy arose from his bed and made his way to the hall, following his father. His hands were shaky as he walked toward the disgustingly filthy kitchen. On the table, amongst the random objects, was a white paper sack, next to it was a pizza pocket on one of the disposable plates.

“Well, don’t just fuckin’ look at it. That shit costs money. Eat that motherfucker,” his father said from the sink. The man walked to the fridge and opened the freezer door with a red plastic cup in hand.

Johnny was very hungry. He hastily made his way to the table, picked up the hot, baked, hot pocket and bit into it. It tasted so good to him, he had always wanted to buy one when he went to the store because they smelled so good. The boy devoured the baked morsel in a matter of seconds. He looked at his father, who had his back to him as he was grabbing ice from the fridge.

“Yea, I thought I’d be nice and grab you some dinner. That’s the kind of father I am,” the man said as he reached for the bottle of whiskey on the top of the fridge. “That fat, ugly-ass bitch at the store said you was in there this afternoon.” The man turned to Johnny, filling his glass with Wild Turkey.

Johnny’s heart raced and the lump started developing in his throat. He knew his father knew about the pup. Johnny didn’t care if he were to be punished, but he deeply feared for the puppy’s well-being.

“Here, I do my best by you. Stopping to grab your lazy faggot-ass something to eat, and then I learn you went behind my back and brought home another lazy-ass, good for nothin’, piece of shit!” the crazed man yelled at the boy. He then chugged the whiskey from his cup, taking large gulps until Johnny could hear the ice fall back down to the bottom of the empty cup. The man was covered in dirt and grime. His face was bright red and sweaty. His overalls appeared as if they hadn’t been washed in ages. The man’s body odor was so strong that it smelled like someone was mincing rotten onions in the kitchen. He looked at Johnny with the cold, cruel stare which Johnny was so accustomed to. There was no escaping it, the night was going to be a long one.

“Where is it?” Thomas asked the boy in a deep tone that sent chills up Johnny’s spine.

“In…it’s in the coop,” Johnny said in a shaky, horrified voice.

“With my fuckin’ chickens?” the man screamed belligerently as he threw the cup to the floor. His eyes were peeled as wide as they could open. He turned back to grab the bottle on top of the fridge and removed the cap again, throwing it in the kitchen sink as he began drinking straight from the bottle. Although there was at least one-third of the liquor still in the bottle, his father drank it down like it was raspberry soda. He then looked at Johnny and threw the bottle violently at him. The bottle sailed by the trembling boy’s head before Johnny even had time to react, and it shattered against the wall behind him as pieces of the broken glass showered the boy’s back and shoulders and hair.

Thomas, clearly in a heated fit of rage, stormed to his bedroom down the hall. From the kitchen, Johnny could hear the enraged man. “I do my best by you, and this is how you treat me. No fuckin’ respect, none at all. You’re gonna learn, fag!” His voice became louder as the man came storming back into the kitchen holding a filthy pillowcase, which was covered in dried saliva stains, and God only knew what else. Johnny stared at the floor, which was covered in filth and glass, as his father charged in his direction. He felt his father’s powerful grip around his throat. Thomas slammed his son into the wall.

“What do I have to do? Why can’t you listen! Look what you make me have to fuckin’ do!” the man screamed in the horrified boy’s face. The veins in his forehead looked like they could rupture at any moment. Johnny said not a word as he continued to look in the direction of the floor. He felt dizzy as his father’s grip became tighter.

Suddenly, the man released his son’s throat and grabbed a hand full of the boy’s hair, yanking him violently toward the back door. He kicked the door open, nearly taking it off its hinges.

Johnny was bent over, trying to keep up with his father, nearly losing his footing as the man dragged the trembling teen out the door. Finally, Johnny’s feet went out from under him and he was unable to regain his footing immediately. His father was dragging the boy behind him. Johnny could feel a popping sensation on the top of his scalp as he was being pulled like a sack of potatoes across the trashy yard. Johnny desperately tried to find his footing again, but then they were at the chicken coop. His father threw the boy to the ground, and Johnny’s face hit the dirt hard. As the dazed boy rose to his hands and knees, his father unlatched the coop door and flung it open.

The chickens inside clucked and flew about. Several of them exited the building from the opening to the outside enclosure. Thomas reached down to the frightened pup, which hadn’t moved from the spot where Johnny had left her, and violently grabbed the dog by her loose hide. The confused puppy began to yelp in pain and terror.

As Johnny looked up at the scene, he could no longer contain his nerves and began vomiting the only decent nutrition he had had that day. He watched as his father shoved the frightened puppy into the disgusting pillowcase and heaved it over his shoulder.

“Get up, you pantywaist!” the man yelled at Johnny.

The boy rose to his feet as quickly as he could.

Thomas grabbed him by the back of the neck and began leading him forcefully in the direction of the truck.

Johnny was absolutely horrified at what his father might do to the innocent puppy. As they approached the truck, Thomas shoved the boy hard to the passenger door.

“Get in, faggot!” the man said as Johnny scrambled for the handle. Thomas then tied the top of the pillowcase in a knot so the pup couldn’t escape, and then threw the pillowcase in the back of the truck rather forcefully. The pup let out a yelp, and then was quiet.

Johnny still felt quite nauseated as he climbed in the passenger seat, but he had nothing left in his stomach to expel. His heart was racing so fast he felt it could explode.

His father jumped in the driver’s side and started the old truck. Throwing it in drive, he went speeding through the yard like a mad man. As he flew by the chicken coop, he spun out attempting to turn the truck around. The pillowcase hit the side of the truck bed with a sickening thud. The belligerent motorman finally got the truck straightened out as he tore off through the yard toward the dirt road. Johnny knew exactly where they were going. He was going to the pond about a half a mile up the road from the house.