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Authors: Heather Balog

The Dead of Summer (25 page)

BOOK: The Dead of Summer
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Daisies. There had been daisies in the vase last week. I thought Mrs. Harris had brought them. Now I knew.
Why would she save flowers a man she hated gave her?

“I wasn’t scared to see him. Maybe I should have been; my skin was erupting into goose pimples everywhere.” She shrugged. “Maybe it was because I was excited to see him after all this time. I always used to get them when I saw him, along with a little tingling—”

“Okay, Mama, I don’t need to hear all that,” I interrupted her before she went too far off into a tangent again. “Just tell me what
happened
.” I could tell this flowery language was a diversion. She didn’t really want to talk about what happened that day.

Mama ran her hands through her hair and sighed with exasperation. Imagine that.
She
was exasperated with
me
. “I
am
trying to tell you what happened Kennedy, but you keep on interrupting me.”

“I just want to know actions, Mama. Not how he made you feel on a spring day in 1999,” I scoffed. “Just the facts. Like he came in, you hit him over the head and killed him. Then, you dragged his body down a flight of stairs and threw a tarp over his corpse.”

Mama gasped as she leaped to her feet and clutched at her chest dramatically. “Oh my good gracious, Kennedy!” She sank back down onto the bed. “Is that what you think happened?”

“I don’t
know
what happened, Mama! And I won’t know until you tell me!” I practically wanted to shake her right then. My entire body was trembling, as if six years of all my pent up frustration toward her was threatening to blow up at this very moment and explode from my body like lava.

“Well I’m trying to,” Mama snapped at me. “I told you that your daddy was at the door looking all swell and dapper for a moment, I thought he had come back to me. Not to hurt me or anything, but to tell me he changed and that he wanted me back and that he would do anything…” Mama choked back a sob. “I thought he was going to beg for my forgiveness. And the way he was standing there, my favorite flowers in his hand, that stupid, stupid grin that always cast a spell on me…well, I was pretty sure I would have taken him back.”

“Mama! What about the way he treated me? The way he treated
you
? Everything you told me?” I wanted to vomit in my trash can at the thought; I couldn’t hide my revulsion for the man that I never really knew, and the distaste for my mama’s words. I was really starting to think that I wasn’t equipped to handle Mama’s brand of crazy.

“I’m not saying it would have been a wise choice, Kennedy. It’s just…well, one day maybe you’ll understand. Some boys just have that kind of power over you. No matter how much you tell yourself to not get caught in their spell, well, you find yourself enchanted all the same.”

She offered me a weak smile and reached over to me to brush the hair off my now flushed face. I was thinking of Carson, of course. The way he made me feel like I had lost my mind, like nothing else in the world mattered when I was in his presence. That must be the way that my daddy had made Mama feel, even after all the crap she knew about him. So I nodded, encouraging her to go on.

“He stood there, not even saying anything, but I just stepped aside and let him in anyway, just like I let him into my life in the first place. He swept into the house and thrust the bouquet of flowers into my hands forcefully. He clasped his hands around my wrists and I felt like I was in a trance of some sort. Then he leaned down and kissed my cheek.” Mama’s hand moved to her cheek and then she quickly pulled it away, as if the reminder of his lips on her cheek had burned her fingers.

“He said, and I’ll never forget how chilling his voice was…he said, ‘It’s a delight to finally get in touch with you, my dear. Bet you didn’t think you’d ever have the pleasure of seeing me again, did you?’ And then he told me how he found me. I knew I was probably as good as dead right then.”

“Why didn’t you try to run out of the house or call someone, Mama? Why did you give him the chance to hurt you?” None of her actions made sense. I was starting to think that no jury in the land would believe what she did was in self-defense. Insanity, yes, self-defense, no way.

“I really don’t know, Kennedy. I guess I was tired of the lies. I wanted to end it.” I shuddered, only imagining what she meant by
end it
.

Mama looked at me just then and I could see the bags under her eyes, the fine lines around her mouth, the way her once plump cheeks appeared as if they were now almost sliding off her face. Mama was a beautiful woman, she was that type of beauty that always would withstand the test of time. But she was getting older…and quickly; it was showing on her face. This ordeal had aged her considerably. Mama sighed and I could see the hopefulness she once had rushing out of her body, like helium escaping a balloon. Suddenly my heart ached for Mama and the pain she must be in…all for me. I reached for her hand and she took it willingly.

“He came in like a tornado…the way he’s always been. His head was whipping around as he inspected everything in his path, making comments under his breath, snide little remarks that were meant to hurt and sting and get me to lash out at him, but I clenched my teeth and refused to take the bait. He wandered into the living room and studied the pictures on the wall. He was running his fingers along the edge of the frames, slowly, and deliberately taunting me. I ignored him and stood there, kicking myself for letting him in the house to begin with. When we got to the kitchen, I offered him a drink.”

“Sweet tea?” I interrupted knowingly.

Mama shook her head. “Sweet tea was too good for that man. I wasn’t wasting my sweet tea on him,” Mama replied, with the most bitterness I had ever heard from her. I sucked in my breath and didn’t say anything, but I squeezed Mama’s hand tighter. My mama wouldn’t deny her dying enemy a drop of sweet tea if she could help it, that much I knew.

“He asked for a cup of coffee, nice and black like he usually took it. There was a little bit left in the pot, so I poured the remains into my World’s Greatest Mom mug,” she said without a trace of irony. Yes, my mama wouldn’t see the irony in that.

“He took a sip and practically spit it at me. ‘Still make a crap cup of coffee, I see’ is all he could say. And he smiled. I had to bite my lip to prevent myself from blurting out a sarcastic comment.”

I highly doubted that. Mama couldn’t have come up with a sarcastic comment if it was written on a cue card in front of her. She was just not hardwired for sarcasm.

“So instead, I just asked, what he was doing here. He just stared at me for a moment. His eyes looked so cruel.” Mama squeezed my hand tighter at that moment. “And then he finally said, ‘I’ve come to take back what’s rightfully mine. If you had just stayed, well, I wouldn’t have to do this, would I?’ ”

Those words again…the words we read on Mark Ryan’s Facebook page back when I thought he was an impostor. They chilled me to the core.
What was rightfully his? What was he here for? Mama? Did he see her as his possession?

Mama looked away like a scared child, and then I knew; I knew what it was she was trying to shield me from. I understood why she had done what she did. And I understood that I needed to help her, no matter what she did because she had done it for me. Mark Ryan had been intending to take me away from her. And Mama wasn’t about to let that happen.

“It’s okay, Mama. You don’t have to explain anymore. We’ll figure this out. Carson’s dad probably knows a lawyer that can help—”

“No, Kennedy,” Mama said firmly. “I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say here.”

I stood up, my hands still clasped in hers. “You don’t have to say anything, Mama. I get it. You killed him trying to save me. There’s gotta be a way to get you out of this mess and we—”

“Kennedy, will just listen to me for once?” Mama screamed as she pulled away from my hands. I recoiled like she had slapped me. I stared at her.

“Thank you.” She smoothed down her hair that was becoming frizzy from the heat. My own hair probably looked like a rat’s nest and I could feel unattractive sweat stains forming underneath the armpits on my tank top.

“As I was saying, Mark was basically threatening to take you back to Texas with him. He had all sorts of letters from lawyers that stated I violated this law and that law and he kept shoving them under my nose and pointing at big words. It was very overwhelming and I felt like I wanted to cry. He yelled that I had deprived him of your childhood and it was against the law what I did, and that now I was gonna go to jail and never be able to see you again after he was through with me. And he
laughed
, Kennedy…this evil, maniacal laugh that didn’t even seem human.” She shuddered as if she were hearing it again.

“And then, he pushed the mug away and stood, all six foot of him…” Her voice trailed off as I imagined him hovering over her—she was so tiny, even shorter than me.

The thought made me shudder at first, and then I started to realize…
wait a minute! How did my tiny little Mama, kill a big bad mountain of a man?
This puzzle suddenly wasn’t coming together like the picture on the front of the box.

“He asked me where you were. I ignored his question and asked why we couldn’t be reasonable about this. After all, you would barely remember him and he couldn’t expect that you would be comfortable just leaving with him. I was trying to buy some time to figure out what I should do. I would have
never
let him take you. Trust me…he would have to pry you from my cold dead hands first.

“He moved closer to the stairs. My heart was in my throat and I felt like I was going to throw up as I followed him, taking the steps two at a time as he always had. I couldn’t bear the thought of him in your bedroom, touching your things. Part of me wanted to call the cops to get him out of there and just deal with the consequences of my…
kidnapping
you, later on.”

“Oh Jesus, Mama! Don’t say stuff like that! You didn’t kidnap me for God’s sakes!” I yelped. The word
kidnap
made me cringe.

Mama shrugged. “I’ve lied to myself about it long enough. If your daddy showing up here taught me one thing it was that I can’t lie to myself in order to keep secrets anymore.

“He climbed the stairs so slowly…my heart was damn near exploding in my chest. I knew you weren’t upstairs, still, I couldn’t help but picture him finding you up there anyway. And what would you do? Would you wrap your arms around him like a little girl and let your daddy carry you off into the sunset like a prince? Or would you remember his abuse and his steel toed boots and realize what I had done?”

I swallowed hard. I’m not sure what I would have done had my mysterious daddy found me that day. Been damn confused, that’s for certain.

I didn’t answer and Mama didn’t push the issue. “He walked into your bedroom and instantly it felt wrong, like he was intruding on something that wasn’t his to intrude on. Then he started touching things and I confess, I got really mad. I felt like I could pick up that giant rock and club him over the head with it.” She jerked her head toward the purple paperweight on my desk.

My eyes grew wide as I stared at my treasured paperweight I had won in a sixth grade spelling bee.
Did she murder my daddy with the paperweight and then it sat on my desk for a week?
The thought made my stomach lurch; as if a dead daddy in my basement wasn’t enough, I had the murder weapon resting three feet away from me the whole time? I visually inspected it for blood stains or hair or pieces of flesh.

“He turned around and headed into my room—”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “You didn’t hit him over the head with the paperweight?” I was definitely confused.

Mama appeared shocked. “Jesus, Kennedy Ann! What do you take me for?” Her eyes spelled out hurt, like I accused of her of skinning kittens to make rugs.

“Well you were saying—”

“I was just telling you what I would have
liked
to do. Not what I actually did.”

“Well then how did he get that gash on his forehead?”

Mama sighed with exasperation. “Are you gonna let me finish this story or are you gonna interrupt me every five minutes?”

Properly chastised, I stared down at my hands. “Sorry, Mama,” I mumbled.

“Thank you. Anyway he rummaged around my bedroom for a while which was horrible, as you can imagine. I was really afraid he would…” Her voice trailed off and I caught her blushing deeply as I raised my head.
Oh dear Lord please don’t make me listen to this
…I could only imagine what Mama thought was gonna happen in the bedroom.

But Mama quickly glossed over my daddy’s foray in her bedroom and continued her tale with my daddy now back downstairs.

“He stared at me with his cold green eyes and said, ‘Where is she? Where are you hiding her?’ I swore up and down that I didn’t know where you were, which wasn’t a lie…well, I mean, I knew you were with Lindy, but I didn’t know where…and he started calling me all sorts of names. He…” Mama bit her lip. “He slapped me across the face so hard I fell down and hit the basement door. Something on the shelf by the bottom of the steps must have rolled off when I hit the door because there was a loud clattering noise downstairs. Mark looked at me with a smile and said,

She’s hiding downstairs, isn’t she?

I shook my head and tried to explain that it was a can or something falling, but he pushed me out of the way and stomped down the steps. I got really nervous then, even more than before because that’s where I hide the money

“You hide money downstairs?”
Jesus
.

Mama waved her hand in front of her face as if this wasn’t important. “So I got behind him to try to stop him. I don’t know if I grabbed his arm or what…it all happened so fast. He reached around to shake me off and he lost his balance, I guess. He tumbled down the stairs and smacked his head on the drain at the base of the steps,” Mama finally said.

“Oh my God,” I couldn’t help but gasp as I covered my mouth with my shaking hand.

“I’m not sure if it was the fall or hitting his head, but he wasn’t moving. I sat on the steps for a couple minutes, not sure what I should do. I mean, I guess I should I have called an ambulance? But would it have made a difference? But I couldn’t move, Kennedy…you gotta understand that.” She glanced up at me pleadingly, as if I had the power to absolve her for all of her sins.

BOOK: The Dead of Summer
5.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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