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Authors: Lenora Henson

The Wicked Garden (19 page)

BOOK: The Wicked Garden
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CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

Oregon, 2010s

Eli was drunk. He hadn’t meant for it happen. Rebecca drove him home, undressed him, and helped him into bed.

“I gotta pee,” he said, pulling down his boxer shorts before he reached the bathroom. They fell around his ankles. He tripped and fell into the wall.

              “Wait, wait, wait,” Rebecca called, pulling the shorts out of the way, and letting him lean against her while she led him to the bathroom.

She turned her head while he did his thing. She leaned up against the wall, regretting the decision to get back together with him after his long period of being incommunicado. She thought a night out might cheer him up, might distract him from the weird funk he’d been in. She thought maybe he’d smoke some pot, or have a few drinks. She hadn’t counted on this train wreck. She’d counted on his best friend, Andy, being able to talk some sense into him.

“All done. Would you be a doll and help me?” he slurred. Rebecca shook her head in disgust.

“There’s nothing worse than a drunk when you’re sober,” she mumbled as she helped him to his bed.

Rebecca undressed. It was past midnight and she resigned herself to staying the night. He wouldn’t like seeing her there in the morning, but that was too damn bad. She was exhausted from babysitting him all night.

“She won’t chat. Why won’t she chat?” Eli asked.

“Who won’t chat?”
It’s happening
, Rebecca thought.
He’s found someone else.
She knew it was inevitable, but she liked to pretend that they were a happy couple. She could pretend all she wanted, but, deep down, she knew she was just a replacement for the one that got away.

“Ame. Why did she come into my life and then just disappear? She’s just like her mother. I don’t get it. I just don’t get it. Did I scare her away?”

“You’re drunk, Eli. Go to sleep."

“She looks just like her mom. She looks just like her, Rebecca. You just wouldn’t believe the similarity.”

“I don’t care, Eli. Go to sleep,” she cried, tears sprouting at the corners of her eyes.

“Will warned me that Gretchel was crazy when she drank. But she loved me! I know she loved me!”

Rebecca couldn’t take any more. She jumped out of bed and pulled on her clothes. “Enjoy your reminiscing, Eli.”

“Buh-bye now, Becca,” he replied.

Eli could hear her stomping through the house as she left. He sat up and yelled, “Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.” Then he collapsed on the bed, and began giggling hysterically. Then his laughter dissolved into a frustrated moan. “Why? Why?” he repeated until he drifted off to sleep, and saw the redhead peeking out of the shadows.

 


 

Carbondale, 1990s

Gretchel had only
called once the first week of school. She’d told Eli she was swamped: classes, homework, and her new job downtown. By the time she got back to the dorm at night she was too wiped out to come by, but she promised Eli she would be there on Saturday.

Saturday came and went. Sunday passed, and she hadn’t called or answered his calls. Another week went by. After trying to catch her before and after class, before and after work, after trying to reach her by phone, he had given up the fight. He couldn’t wait any longer.

He was at her dorm by 10:30 in the morning, the Saturday after her second week of classes. He marched down the hallway of the top floor and saw her roommate with a laundry basket. “Hey,” he called, “is Gretchel in there?”

“Yeah, but she’s sleeping,” the girl said. “Thank god. The only time she doesn’t freak out at night is when she’s passed out drunk. I don’t know how long I can take this.”

The alcohol helps keep the nightmares away, too
, Eli thought.

“I’d like to see her if you don’t mind."

“No problem. I’m heading out anyway. Can you get her to clean up the puke? It’s getting rancid in there.” She opened the door, dropped the laundry on her bed, and left.

The smell hit Eli like a cloud of putrid regret. He made a mad dash to open the window and turn on a fan. Then he looked at Gretchel and the smell no longer mattered. His heart leapt at the sight. She was sprawled out on her stomach, diagonal across her bed, naked but for the white bikini underwear that made her backside look so tight and perfect that he was sure that, if he flipped a quarter against it, it would bounce back into his hand.

Gretchel’s left arm was hanging off the bed, her fingers almost touching the vomit on the floor. Her hair was stringy and matted. It spread out around her like the flames of hell. The phoenix tattoo that stretched its wings across her back was vibrant against the paleness of her skin. If she weren’t so pathetically passed out, he might have thought her body lying there, with the rays of midmorning drenching it with light, was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

After cleaning up the vomit, Eli tried to wake her. She wouldn’t budge, so he lay next to her, and watched her sleep. He had never seen this side of her. He fell asleep until it was afternoon. He woke when the phone rang. It was right next to Gretchel’s head, but she didn’t stir.

“Allow me,” Eli mumbled, still half asleep. “Hello.”

The other end of the line was silent for a moment, and Eli got a really bad feeling.

“Who the fuck is this?” an abrasive male voice inquired.

“Who the fuck is this?” Eli retorted.

“This is Troy Shea. Who is this, and why are you answering Gretchel’s phone?”

Eli’s heart dropped. The ex-boyfriend. “I’m her boyfriend, so I think that gives me a few privileges.”

“Really? So you’re the hippie that the dirty whore was trying to lie about.”

“Don’t you dare call her a whore.”

“Well she is a whore, and if you could have seen her last night you would have known just how dirty she can...” Eli slammed down the phone. He began to shake. He tried to breathe—he tried to regain his composure—but there was a rage building inside of him, unlike anything he had ever felt.

“Gretchel, you have to wake up and talk to me.” He reached for her shoulder and gave her a shake.

“Ouch,” she moaned.

He had barely touched her. He looked at her, apprehension building, and then he gently turned her over. He gasped.

There were three circular burns at the edge of her old scars, and a new row of cuts—jagged and raw—alongside the cuts that had healed long ago.

“Gretchel, wake up,” he yelled in her ear.

She jumped. “What?”

“Where in the hell did these burns come from?”

“Where am I?” she asked looking around the dorm room.

“Are you serious?”

She went to the bathroom, and when she returned, Eli studied her body. It looked as if she’d gained a few pounds. She wrapped a bandana around her head, and fought to zip up her old Levis with the Grateful Dead patch. She winced when her hand grazed one of the burns.

“Oh, crap! I’m late for work,” she said.

“Gretchel, where did those burns come from? Did that Troy asshole do that to you?”

“I need water. I’m so thirsty,” she said. She went to the mini fridge, pulled out a gallon jug, and put it to her lips.

“Where did the burns come from, Gretchel? Did you burn yourself or did Troy do it?” Eli demanded, becoming angrier by the second.

She slammed the jug down on her nightstand. “Troy did it. Yes, yes, yes. Troy did it. He found me last weekend, on The Strip. I went out, just for a couple of drinks with some old friends, and he was there. He was waiting for me to show up, and good old predictable alcoholic Gretchel was busted. One of his friends saw you and me together this summer and told him. He confronted me about it last night after he bought me all the beer I could drink and countless shots. He burnt the hell out of me with the cigarette lighter from his car until I confessed I was sleeping with you. Is that what you wanted to hear? Well, that’s what happened. That’s how I got the fucking burns."

Eli didn’t know who this person was. Her eyes were wide and wicked, her face was tired and pale. She looked like she had run into the devil himself. Maybe she had.

“I’m calling the police.”

“No!” She grabbed the phone out of his hand, slamming it back down on the nightstand. “This is none of your business. It’s a waste of time anyway. His dad’s a high-powered lawyer in Chicago. It’ll only make things worse if you get involved.”

“I’ll take you away from here. He won’t be able to find you. Gretchel, I can keep you safe. I can put you through school. I can take care of you!”

“You need to leave, Eli. I have to get ready for work. And if Troy finds out you’ve been here, things will get worse. I know what he’s capable of.”

“He already knows I’m here. He just called.”

“Shit!” She grabbed her head, and paced around the room in a manic flurry.

“I’m not afraid of him, Gretchel. You don’t have to stay with me, but I’ll be damned if this guy’s going to hurt you again.”


You. Have. To. Leave
.” She pushed him out of the dorm room. Eli stood in the hallway wondering what had just happened. Deep inside, he knew it was officially the beginning of the end.

 


 

It was Halloween. Eli hadn’t seen Gretchel in weeks. Teddy had agreed to come down to help talk some sense into her. As much as he dreaded being in Carbondale on Halloween again, Teddy made the trip to Pringle Street. Eli tried to convince Marcus to come too, but Cindy was about to give birth to their third child, and he wasn’t leaving Irvine.

“Dude. I know this sucks, but you’ve got to move on. He’s a predator, man. He’s sucked her in but good, and here’s the thing: Gretchel’s the only one that can make the decision to get away from him.” Will was sitting on the chronic couch with his arm around the new roommate, Ginnifer, who listened intently.

“I hate to admit it, but he’s right, Eli,” Patty added.

“I can’t stop trying."

“No, you can’t. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to her, and I won’t sit around and watch Troy destroy her,” Teddy said. “She does that just fine on her own.”

“Why is she so self-destructive, Teddy? What happened to her?”

Teddy twitched nervously in his seat. “I’m bound to secrecy.”

“Oh come on, man. This is her life were talking about,” Eli cried.

“I’m sorry, but I won’t betray her trust. I’ll stay loyal to her until the end of my days.”

Eli threw his hands in the air, and paced the living room. “Was he like this when she dated him last year? Did he abuse her?”

“I knew he was a monster the moment I first laid eyes on him, a year ago today exactly. He’s sociopathic, and after what happened last winter....” Teddy started to get choked up.

“What happened last winter?”

Teddy shook his head. “I can’t say.”

Eli clenched his fists and seethed.

Patty shook her head, and spoke up, “Please don’t take this the wrong way, Eli, but I think you’re making it worse. She’s a prize to him, and he’s not going to let go of his trophy. Not to you, not to anyone. He’s a rich little brat with nothing better to do. His parents probably sent him down to Southern Illinois to get rid of him. I know his type. He causes his parents a bunch of hell, and mommy can’t tolerate his antics, so she ships him off to a school far enough away from her social circle that he can’t be an embarrassment, yet he still gets a decent education. It’s so predictable.”

Eli paced, wishing he could tell Gretchel who he was. Then he could take her away. She could go to any school in the country, she could have anything she wanted. But it wasn’t going to happen, and he couldn’t turn to his mother for help. She was only giving him one semester in Carbondale as it was. He had to get this settled as quickly as possible before he lost Gretchel forever.

“We’re going to find her tonight,” Eli said. “We’ll bring her back here before she gets drunk, and talk some sense into her.” The plan was good in theory, but so was the bologna, peanut butter, and jalapeño sandwich Will had dreamed up the last time they were all stoned immaculate.

“Take my bong, baby,” Will said to Ginnifer. “I have some frat ass to kick.”

 


 

The Strip was already packed
with people when they arrived. Eli had no idea what he was thinking. He had a feeling there was going to be a fight, and he had little faith in his back-up.

The three men walked into one of the bars Gretchel frequented, and Eli could see her across the room. She was sitting against the wall with several girls, staring into space.

“Keep your eyes out for Troy. Here’s money. Get some drinks and act cool,” Eli said.

He struggled through the crowd. When Gretchel saw him, her eyes grew wide, and she quickly downed the rest of her drink. She walked toward the bathroom, and then quickly made her way to the front door and slipped out into the crowded night. Eli grabbed her arm gently, and pulled her down the street.

BOOK: The Wicked Garden
9.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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