After my first set of exams in college was over, I drove home.
It was a three-hour drive, but it was worth it. College wasn’t like home. Even though my roommate and I got along, I needed time away. I wanted to be back in my own bedroom—not in that cramped dorm room on a stiff twin bed. Moreover, I wanted to see my dad.
After my mother killed herself, my father finally cut back on his time on the road. He was shaken by the whole thing. He wasn’t the same guy he used to be. He blamed himself, and the guilt kept him home. It wasn’t how I wanted it to happen, but it happened.
He helped me lug my boxes from home to my dorm room, although I did a lot of lifting thanks to his bad back. And that’s the last time I saw him. We talked on the phone once a week, but I worried. He looked old when he said goodbye to me at the entrance to my dorm. He wasn’t going to be around forever. He didn’t eat right and barely exercised. For all I knew, he could have a heart attack before I even finished college.
So that’s why I drove out. I asked beforehand to make sure he wasn’t going to be on a business trip, but I didn’t mention I was coming. I figured we could watch a movie together on TV. Maybe share a couple of beers. Yeah, I wasn’t twenty-one yet, but he wasn’t bothered by things like that.
By the time I got to the house, it was dark. I hit traffic, and then when it started to get late, I stopped for fast food. A quarter pounder with cheese. French fries. A chocolate milkshake. My mom never let me have fast food, so I was having too much of it. I was still skinny as a rail though.
I parked on the street since my father’s car was in the driveway and I didn’t want to block him. The house was dark too. Apparently, he wasn’t home, even though his car was there.
It didn’t matter. As long as he wasn’t away on a business trip, he would be back. He probably went out for a beer with his buddies from work and planned to bum a ride home. It would be good to have the house to myself for a couple of hours.
I let myself into the house and went straight upstairs to my bedroom on the second floor. It was a long drive and I was tired. I flicked on the lights and dumped my duffel bag with clothing for the weekend on my bed. Then I flopped down on the mattress and shut my eyes.
I must have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing I knew, I could hear the lock turning in the front door. I yawned and sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes. My father was finally home—I could hear his voice.
And another familiar voice.
My heart was pounding. I stood up from the bed and walked over to the door, which was slightly ajar. I peeked outside my bedroom, at the staircase leading to the front door.
My father’s voice: “Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night?” “No. I really shouldn’t. I have to be up early tomorrow morning.”
“Maybe you should just move in here then.” “God, can you imagine what people would say?”
“She’s been dead for almost two years, Jeannette. It’s been long enough.”
“I don’t know…”
“Fine. Go home. Just let me say goodbye first.”
I took a step back as I watched my father kiss my mother’s sister.
It was exactly what my mom had accused him of that night she killed herself. She said he was fooling around with her sister. She screamed at him that all his business trips were just excuses to cheat. At the time, I thought she was crazy. My dad would never do anything like that.
I was wrong.
He was kissing Aunt Jeanette deep enough that he could probably taste her breakfast. He had no idea I was watching. It was all his goddamn secret.
He tortured my mother. She was crazy, but he made it worse. She was always paranoid about losing him, and now I could see why. And he didn’t care that she took it out on me. He just let it all happen. His secret life was too important to him.
He said good night to Jeannette and she took off in her white Toyota. I never said a word. I couldn’t have, even if I wanted to. I felt too sick to talk.
I stood on the second floor as my dad went into the kitchen. I could hear him pouring himself a drink. He turned on the news and watched for a
while. I was dimly aware of the newscasters talking. A child disappeared from a playground downtown. The town elections would be held this week. The forecast was calling for rain tomorrow.
It was nearly an hour later when he finally started up the steps to the second floor. I hadn’t budged in all that time. It was only when he got to the top that he saw me standing there.
“Jesus Christ!” He clutched his chest. “I didn’t see you there. What the hell are you doing here?”
You were kissing Aunt Jeanette,” I said. His eyes widened. “You saw that?”
I nodded.
He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Look, sport…” “Don’t call me that.”
“Look, I’m sorry.” He frowned. “It’s complicated. I wish you could understand.”
“Complicated?” I repeated. “What’s so complicated? I needed you when I was a kid, and you were off messing around with other women. My mother’s sister, for chrissake. No wonder she went crazy.”
“Oh, you think it was all my fault?” He lifted his eyebrows. “You better own up to your own role. Half the arguments we had were because of you. And your behavior. You think it was easy having a kid like you? Always getting into fights. We had to move after you gauged the eye out of that McCormick kid.”
I swallowed, remembering the day Bryan McCormick teased me about my shaved head and my “cooties.” I had been so angry—I wanted to hurt him. Badly. “That was an accident.”
“Bullshit.” He sneered at me. “That poor kid lost his eye because of you. That was no accident.”
I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. It reminded me of the blood that had poured down Bryan’s left cheek as he screamed. “He deserved it.”
“They always did, didn’t they?” He snorted. “I suppose Snowball also deserved what you did to her.”
There was a bitter taste in my mouth as I remembered my mother’s treasured white cat. The one she loved more than me. I will never forget the look on my mom’s face when she discovered what I had done to that cat. All
the color had drained from her cheeks and she clasped a hand over her mouth as her legs gave way beneath her. I hadn’t been able to suppress a smile, even when she slapped me hard enough to leave a mark.
Now Snowball was buried in the backyard. My mother was buried in the local cemetery. And Bryan McCormick’s eye was long gone.
“Your mother and I had no idea what to do with you,” he grunted. “We were scared stiff. Why do you think I locked up my rifle and never let you near it anymore? I thought you’d kill us all while we were sleeping.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“Wouldn’t you?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Your mother died with you right here in the house, in the very next bedroom. You think I don’t know you had something to do with it?”
My face burned. He had come just a little too close to hitting the nail on the head. “Take that back.”
“I won’t take it back. It’s the truth.”
I imagined him calling the police. Telling them what he knew. I imagined handcuffs being locked around my wrists.
I gritted my teeth. “Take. It. Back.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “I think you ought to leave. I won’t call the cops on you, but I want you out of here. For good. I don’t want to see you again.”
The rage I felt in my body was stronger than anything I had ever felt before. Worse than when I took out Bryan McCormick’s eye. I felt like I had no control over my own fists. I reached out and shoved my dad as hard as I could.
Under other circumstances, he would’ve fallen and maybe bruised a hip. But my father was standing at the edge of the staircase. My shove threw him off balance. His arms flailed for a moment, then down he went.
When he hit the bottom of the staircase, I heard a sickening thump.
I raced down the flight of stairs. My father was lying at the bottom, facedown, his head at an odd angle. I watched as a puddle of blood slowly grew beneath him. I stood there for a moment, staring at his body.
My thoughts were racing. If I called the police, what were the chances they would believe it was an accident? Especially when my mother died here only two years earlier.
On the other hand, nobody knew I was here. My car had only been parked outside for a couple of hours, and it was dark out. If I drove away, would anyone question my story? After all, old people fall down the stairs sometimes. Accidents happen.
I took one last look at my father. I had been so angry at him a minute ago, but now I was numb. Yes, he had done something awful. But he paid the price.
I left on the light as I slipped out the front door and locked it behind
me.
