Текст книги "Equal Access"
Автор книги: A. E. Branson
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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
Chapter Seventeen
A person is obligated to bless God for the evil that befalls him just as he blesses Him for the good.
–Berakhot 9:5
Pap was all business when he stepped out from the truck. It was an attitude Shad had seen a few times, but not since he’d graduated high school.
“Thanks, Karl.” Pap nodded to his brother-in-law, then turned his attention to Shad. “Come on. Hop in your truck and we’ll get back to the house.”
Shad felt as though he’d just been snagged into an intervention. “I need – I’ve got stuff back at the motel.”
“We’ll leave your truck at the house and both go to the motel to get your stuff.”
Shad wasn’t inclined to argue. Pap had used this technique in the past whenever he needed to impress something upon Shad and wasn’t about to let the boy get by with avoiding something he needed to do. Having never dealt with this action before as an adult, Shad could only respond to it as he did when a kid. Besides, with his life currently at the mercy of the currents of chance or destiny, Shad figured he might as well let this newest wave carry him wherever it willed.
So he drove to his childhood home, parked the pickup, and got into the truck with Pap.
“Where’s Mam?” Shad asked as Pap drove back out to the road.
“Still at the hospital with Jill.”
Shad had another twinge of guilt. “Is that a good idea?”
“They seem to think so.” Pap glanced toward him. “It pleased Jill satisfactorily when you left with the deputies, so she won’t need to vent so much. And Maddie can take her grumblings better when you aren’t there to hear it. Maddie reckons you heard enough put-downs when you were younger, so it gets her ire up that you should have to hear any more.”
“So you and Karl left to get the chores done?”
“That, and we hoped between the two of us we’d be able to catch you up once the sheriff was done with you.”
On the way to the motel Pap quizzed Shad about the interrogation, then inquired about Shad’s conversation with Karl. When he told Pap about Karl’s assertion the gunman was really there to kill Shad, Pap pursed his lips together.
“I wondered about that, myself,” Pap murmured.
A new realization sent a flash of panic through Shad. “If somebody’s trying to kill me, I can’t stay with you!”
“Yes, you can.” Pap’s eyes narrowed.
A fresh wave of guilt washed over him. “You and Mam would be put in danger. I’m not gonna do that.”
Pap stayed focused on the road and his voice was gruff. “I’d rather face down a passel of assassins than have to worry and fret again about where you are and if you’re safe.”
Shad lowered his head and rested it in his hands. Why did he have to devastate the lives of the people he cared about? He was like a vector of ill fortune, unable to refrain from harming others no matter what he did or tried to do.
Pap’s voice became steady again. “Besides, I doubt there’s that much to worry about. Whoever shot Dulsie wasn’t any pro. He’s probably scared off for good and he’s not likely to find you when you aren’t home.”
“I wish I’d been home last night.”
Pap released an exhale before he responded. “Why weren’t you?”
Shad cursed his disorder and himself as well. “I’m a waste of flesh.”
“We’re gonna start laying some ground rules. First one is you aren’t allowed to drag yourself through the mud.”
This was all feeling familiar. Not only had he regressed in his perversion, Shad realized again his behavior was reverting to his youth with Mam and Pap. He was dragging Pap back into the role of paternal counselor, and that only added to the shame Shad already carried.
Pap continued. “Second one is you don’t have to answer any questions you don’t want to.”
He really didn’t want to answer that question, so Shad silently continued to berate himself.
After several minutes of this, Pap spoke again. “You and Dulsie always did plan on having a family someday.”
Shad turned his head slightly to glance between his fingers at Pap. “What?”
“I know Dulsie wouldn’t sit on news like that very long. Naturally she’d tell you first. So was it Monday or yesterday she told you she was pregnant?”
Shad was so baffled by Pap’s new topic of discussion that it distracted him from his misery. “Monday. After work.”
“Does the pregnancy have anything to do with why you two have a problem all the sudden?”
A hint of panic started to swell inside him. Had Dulsie said something? And if she hadn’t yet, would she say it later? It had never occurred to Shad before that Dulsie would ever betray anything he’d told her in confidence, but Shad remembered the distant look she gave him in the hospital. He had been the first to break the trust between them. It would only serve him right if Dulsie told all his secrets to the rest of the family.
“I wasn’t ready for it,” Shad mumbled.
Pap frowned slightly. “From the day you were married you took the chance of having a baby. I know you knew that. I find it hard to believe that just because Dulsie got pregnant when you weren’t planning on it, you’d – do whatever it is you’re doing.”
Pap was just as crafty as ever. Shad remembered the ways his father would try to turn up information about the existence Shad led when he lived with that woman. And now, as then, Pap was getting too close to the answers he sought, so Shad remained silent.
Pap waited a few more minutes before trying the next angle of approach, which Shad knew he would do.
“I have a confession to make.” Pap glanced toward him. “I didn’t want you.”
“Who would?” Shad mumbled.
“Hear me out. You came to us, in my consideration, at the worst possible time. I was looking forward to being an empty-nester. The last thing I wanted to do was take on the care of some kid who, well, quite frankly, scared me.”
Shad raised his gaze to the glove box. How could Pap have possibly ever been scared of him, especially when Shad wasted his first year with them being scared of Pap?
“I kept expecting you to lash out,” Pap continued. “Start fights, act out, lie, cheat and steal. You had so much bottled up I just knew you were gonna detonate one of these days.” Pap glanced toward him. “But you never did any of that.”
Shad’s initial thought was he never acted out because the boyfriends had taught swift and terrible retribution followed such behavior. And then, when Shad finally did learn to trust his parents, he didn’t act out simply because he didn’t want to. Actually, there was one aspect of acting out he didn’t succumb to only because Shad had never been given the opportunity during those years.
Pap continued. “And then one day I realized that the very thing I didn’t want, that the very challenge I railed against so much, was one of the most significant blessings in my life. One day I realized that you weren’t just the kid I was raising as my son.” He glanced at Shad again. “You are my son. And you’ve made your mom and me proud of you.”
As Shad allowed those words to soak in he realized what a revelation Pap’s confession was. Never, ever, in his wildest, most delusional imaginings, would Shad have ever theorized that Pap didn’t want him around. When he was a kid, when he finally became convinced they weren’t just “fattening him up” for some seasonal human sacrifice that was required by this bizarre religious cult they belonged to, Shad believed his parents had always wanted him. Even when he was a senior in high school, when Shad learned that they had risked so much for him and why, it never occurred to him Mam and Pap were “only” following divine will.
“You still paid too heavy a price,” Shad murmured.
Over ten years ago Shad left a school assignment at home that morning, but a few minutes after he and Mam had left home in the car, Shad discovered it was missing while he was thumbing through his notebook. Since Mam had the time to turn the car around so he could retrieve his homework, she did so, with only a couple of comments about ways Shad could work out to keep him from forgetting such things.
When Mam stopped the car in front of their house, Shad hopped out and sprinted through the front door. He found Pap lying face down in the living room, just in front of the kitchen doorway. Shad ran back to the porch to yell for Mam. Then he dashed back to Pap and confirmed the man was unconscious but breathing.
They drove him to the hospital themselves because it would take too long to wait for an ambulance. Shad sat in the back seat, cradling Pap’s head in his lap, and desperately prayed to a God he was just coming to terms with not to take his father away. Pap regained consciousness during the trip, but he was groggy and disoriented.
At first the doctors thought Pap had a stroke. But when those tests turned out negative, they investigated further and discovered the tumor growing near the base of his skull. They removed it and were able to inform the family it was benign.
But Mam’s and Pap’s problems weren’t over with yet. The only insurance they had was through Mam’s job with the school. It didn’t cover much, and they were left with large medical bills.
Shad, who was usually obtuse about such matters, actually noticed the increased frugality and overheard parts of muttered conversations that were meant to be out of his earshot. Mam and Pap assured him everything was all right, but Shad wondered how these people who were so thrifty and conscientious about saving money were struggling to pay the bills. He wound up taking his concern to Jill.
His aunt believed that since Shad was nearing eighteen, and the truth would be more reassuring to him, he might as well know everything. So Jill told Shad that Mam and Pap shouldered the responsibility of rearing him because the task had been ordained to them. They approached that woman with the offer of adopting Shad from her and paying for the resulting legal expenses. She refused that offer, but told them she would take money for herself if they really wanted to adopt him.
But when Mam and Pap checked into this arrangement with an attorney, they were told unequivocally the law forbade them to pay that woman specifically to give up her child. That constituted purchasing a human being, and thus was considered a black market adoption.
But that woman refused to compromise. So Mam and Pap turned their backs to the law and paid her off.
Mam used – there were plenty who would say “abused” – her position as a school secretary to transfer Shad’s records from St. Louis to the school where she worked. Everything seemed to fall into place, and the Delaneys simply never bothered to go into detail with friends and members of the church how they “adopted” Shad into their home. One of the advantages of living in a rural community was there were few prying eyes to discover their secret.
Then five years later that woman contacted them again, and she demanded more money or else she would turn them in. At first Mam and Pap dismissed her threat – she was as culpable as they were regarding this felony. Then they discovered her tight scheme which did put that woman at risk, but guaranteed Shad would be taken in by the Social Services system they were meant to keep him out of. Besides, they didn’t want to lose him. For Shad’s protection they gave her what she demanded. But it left them ill prepared for Pap’s hospitalization a little over a year later.
When Shad pondered how that wasn’t fair, he got mad at the One who had effectively set his parents up for their financial hardship. If only they had been able to get hold of a lawyer that would have fought to help them achieve their goal and not charged them as much or more as that woman took off with, they wouldn’t be in this fix now.
Well, if the world needed more lawyers like that, then Shad should become one.
Of all the crazy ideas he ever had, Shad dismissed that notion as his most deranged. Yet the idea dogged him, seeming to pop up most readily whenever Shad considered his parents’ circumstances. Obsession wasn’t anything new to him, but there was something different about this one.
A year and a half before Pap went into the hospital, Shad finally figured out that hearing God had to be a more profound experience than hearing Charlton Heston’s voice in one’s head. So he asked Pap just how it was supposed to work. It turned out the experience could manifest in several ways, and one was a compulsion to do something that served others – especially if it was something the person didn’t want to do.
Great, Shad figured. He was finally able to get in touch with his inner light, and it had to be this.
But Shad figured he owed it to Mam and Pap to give in to divine will. Not doing so seemed like a mockery of all they had sacrificed. And now ... and now Shad felt like he had been set up, as well.
Pap’s voice broke up Shad’s thoughts. “I expect the reward in the end will be of higher value than what I paid.”
“And if you’re wrong?” Shad muttered into his hands.
“Well, I’m not.” Pap smirked. “But even if I were, what legacy would I rather leave behind? That I gave in to my weaker self, or that I defied the odds to give a child in need a better future?” He glanced toward Shad. “I have absolutely no idea why we had to keep you out of state custody, but I gained a fine, honorable son by doing so. Yeah, the reward outweighs the price.”
Pap’s words were supposed to be uplifting, but Shad felt more weight added to his guilt. He knew the reason why he had to stay out of foster care, and if Pap knew that reason, he wouldn’t be so proud of this twisted, wicked son he had been burdened with.
A couple of minutes of silence passed before Pap spoke again. “Maybe I should just let you figure out who tried to kill you and almost got Dulsie instead.”
There was that sensation again. It had to work its way through all the layers of despair and misery and torment, but it also caused a bit of distraction from them. It was that element Shad usually tried to keep tightly reined, so it wasn’t used to coming out much. Even now, as it tried to flex some muscle, Shad told himself to keep it on a short leash. If it controlled him instead of the other way around, Shad wouldn’t be much use to Dulsie. But he also realized he’d have to cut it a little slack if Shad wanted to accomplish more than claim her assailant was a coward missing part of his genitalia.
“We’re coming up on the motel.” Pap broke into the latest round of silence. “Which room is yours?”
Chapter Eighteen
A man that does not know how to be angry does not know how to be good.
–Henry Ward Beecher
After Shad gathered up the few things he had in the motel room, most of which had never really been unpacked, Pap commented on the scarcity of his belongings, especially footwear appropriate for a farm. So on the way back to the house Pap stopped the truck at a sundries store and Shad bought a comb and cheap pair of deck shoes, which he could wear without socks and therefore avoid having to buy any of those as well. Pap agreed Shad could probably borrow a few of his clothes until Shad could retrieve more of his own garments. Even though Pap was taller, they were still able to wear basically the same size.
Shad’s need for clothes quickly became apparent when they returned to the farm and Pap commented that he needed to take a shower and suggested Shad do the same. So after Shad got a pair of olive shorts and a khaki shirt from Pap, he deposited his few belongings in the bedroom that used to be his and took the change of clothes to the downstairs bathroom to clean up.
As Shad looked in the medicine cabinet mirror he debated whether or not to shave. His beard was light and slow to grow, which was the main reason Shad had never grown one although he was inclined to copy Pap. He couldn’t look scruffy in court. The combination of his thin beard, hairless chest, and propensity to readily turn brown come springtime, had caused some speculation about the ethnicity of the guy who sired him. Although that woman was a brunette with brown eyes, it was obvious the Y half of Shad’s DNA had been provided by someone even swarthier. Although his birth certificate stated that he had been born in Tulsa, Oklahoma, the identity of the father was designated as “unknown.” Shad considered it par for the course that the genetic material provided by some dude he didn’t know or care about prevented him from emulating the appearance of the man whom he considered to be his father. He might as well shave.
After his shower Shad draped the slacks, which could only be dry cleaned, over his shoulder, and carried the rest of his clothes to the nearby laundry room. As he tossed them into the wicker hamper Shad caught a glimpse of some clothes soaking in the utility tub next to the washer. He froze when Shad realized what he was seeing.
The blue jeans and tan shirt were darkened by stains that also left wispy trails in the water. Blood. They were Pap’s clothes, but Shad quickly surmised whose blood was on them and how it got there. Nobody told him just how Dulsie made it to the hospital. He closed the lid on the hamper and walked into the kitchen where Pap was heating something in the microwave.
“Dulsie called you, didn’t she?” Yet more guilt washed through him.
Pap was wearing different jeans and a burgundy button-down shirt, and he glanced almost nonchalantly toward Shad as he opened the refrigerator.
“You know I can get to your place faster than the sheriff.”
“You could’ve been shot. Or killed.”
“You remember one of the reasons why we Delaneys are considered to be such a contrary lot?” Pap began pulling various containers from the refrigerator. “We’ve always maintained that while pacifism was an ideal, until the rest of the world embraced that belief, we’d fight anybody who threatened our families. Luckily none of us since Quaid have ever had the need to pull a gun on another person, but I was ready to do whatever it took to protect my family.”
Shad shook his head. “This is all my fault. I should’ve been home. I shouldn’t even be here. You’ve already risked too much.”
Pap shot him that familiar glare as he closed the refrigerator with his foot because his arms were full of sandwich fixings and a pitcher of tea. “We’ve already been through that weed patch.” He set the containers on the counter as the microwave went off. “I’ll agree with you that you’ve made a mistake. But if you learn from it and make amends, you’ll have grown. It’s all part of being human. It’s the reason we keep hitting those road bumps in life.”
“Road bumps sown with nails and knives and broken glass,” Shad grumbled. “Rusty razor blades. And trip wires.”
“Don’t forget the land mines.” Pap stepped over to the microwave. “You can make yourself a sandwich. And we’ve got mixed vegetables left over from last night.”
At first Shad wanted to refuse to eat, but it had been two days since his last meal and his stomach started pulsating at the prospect of food. He also hadn’t had anything to drink all day.
After Shad fixed his lunch and sat at the handmade table kitty-corner from Pap, they bowed their heads in a silent grace before eating. Or rather, Shad prayed for Dulsies’s recovery and didn’t even mention the food.
When Shad and Dulsie were beginning to do things together that resembled “going out” more than just “hanging out,” Dulsie once commented at a restaurant how Shad had a rather “interesting” relationship with food. He was fearless of trying anything new, yet Shad was quick to turn down food, even his favorites, if it didn’t meet some kind of predetermined parameters he seemed to cherish – the biggest one, she noticed, being time to enjoy the meal at leisure. Shad used her comment as the springboard to begin sharing a few episodes about his abuse as a child.
Whenever Shad, at irregular intervals, did get fed, it was usually something dumped out of a can or a box. If he didn’t eat it quickly enough, the rather sorry food might be taken away. One time he tried to retrieve a half-eaten hamburger tossed into the trash can by a boyfriend. When the boyfriend caught Shad he flew into a rage and called Shad names like “greedy turd” and even more obscene as he twisted the boy’s arms behind his back and made him lick other things from the trash can.
When he moved in with the Delaneys, Shad was almost overwhelmed by the abundance of food. It not only grew out in the garden, it walked around on the farm or nearby farms. It was gathered from fields and the woods. It was pulled from rivers and ponds. More amazingly, it was brought into the kitchen and actually prepared into aromatic and filling meals that were provided on a regular basis. And what couldn’t be eaten immediately was stored in large freezers or canned or dried for later use.
Shad appreciated food too much to rush through it, squander it, or eat it in any way without enjoyment. His only regret about sharing this information with Dulsie at the restaurant was the fact Shad sort of compromised her own enjoyment of their meal.
Even now the vegetables Shad ate with his sandwich were a medley of seasoned okra, beans, tomatoes, onions and squash from the garden, which soon made Shad feel sufficiently full because his stomach had shrunk from the past couple of days. As Shad sipped on his glass of iced tea, Pap, who had allowed the meal to proceed in silence, leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head.
“I hate to admit it, but I’m gonna have to take a nap.” Pap rested his hands on the table. “Maddie wants us to pick her up this evening. What’re you gonna do until then?”
Shad regarded him a bit blankly. “I haven’t the foggiest.”
“Well, you’ll come up with something.” Pap got to his feet and carried his plate and utensils to the kitchen sink. “Do you mind putting this food away?”
“No. I’ll do it.”
Pap rinsed his dishes and placed them in the dishwasher. “I should be up in a couple of hours.” The glance he shot toward Shad was halfway stern. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Shad shook his head, and Pap walked up the stairs at the side of the kitchen.
He sipped on his tea for a few more minutes, and then Shad got up from the table to clear away everything they’d used for lunch. He then wandered over to the kitchen doorway and stared into the living room, feeling lost.
Yeah, he’d been reviewing divorce cases Shad had handled throughout his somewhat short career, but as Karl had pointed out, none of them were obvious. Shad supposed he could follow up on what became of some of these people, but since Mam and Pap didn’t have internet access, that wasn’t something he could do now.
Maybe Pap had some wood that needed splitting. Or maybe there were some weeds in Mam’s garden that needed to be pulled. But for some reason the idea of doing these activities fell flat as soon as Shad thought of them. At first he blamed the depression, but as Shad tried to come up with other ideas he realized he was seeking to do something with more ... purpose. He wanted to do more than just keep busy.
Shad found himself retrieving the pants he had left on one of the kitchen chairs before climbing up the stairs and returning to his old bedroom.
He hung his three suits in the closet, and then gathered the rest of his clothes, most of which qualified as needing to be washed.
As soon as Shad considered doing some laundry, he remembered Pap’s bloodied clothes in the sink and almost changed his mind. But then he gritted his teeth and took a deep breath, and carried the clothes back down the stairs and into the laundry room.
Shad opened the lid to the washer, started the water running, dumped in detergent, and dumped in his own clothes. Figuring he might as well do some of Mam’s and Pap’s clothes to top off the load, Shad pulled more laundry from the hamper before turning to the bloody jeans and shirt in the utility sink.
With a deep breath and a desire to shudder, Shad started scrubbing the material of Pap’s shirt together. The mixture of water and blood flowed over his hands, and Shad found himself scrubbing more slowly until he finally stopped and simply stared at Dulsie’s blood.
Her blood was literally on his hands. No, somebody else had done this. Shad had his part in it, but somebody else had almost taken Dulsie’s life. Who?
The rage stirred again. Shad’s grip on the material tightened. More watered-down blood trickled over his knuckles.
It was true he should have been home last night. Shad had withdrawn to give Dulsie space and time to come to grips with what she’d married. What she’d married. Shad remembered that distant look in her eyes when he arrived at the hospital. This wasn’t fair. Of all the disorders he had to be stricken with, why did it have to be this one? Why had he been led to believe it was gone, only to have it return? He should have been home last night. He should have taken the bullet. Why did Erin rescue him from one path of destruction only to have Shad wreak havoc upon her own family? Somebody shot Dulsie. Maybe it was because Shad chose to obey divine inspiration and become a lawyer. Maybe he had been mistaken. That power never spoke to him before or since – that is, until Shad discovered Wally.
Wally. Shad wadded another section of the shirt in his hands, squeezing out more bloody water.
This began with Wally. There was no such thing as coincidence. Shad had been maneuvered by unseen forces to discover Wally that day. But Shad was just a pawn. Why couldn’t he press criminal charges and be done with it? Why did he have to try to investigate Wally, to dig up evidence before he could have one more predator removed from some of society’s most helpless victims? Why did he have to meet with Wally only to have all the stress and frustration pry his disorder back out of latency? Shad was trying his best with all the limitations he had, yet apparently that wasn’t good enough. He had to be punished with something that pushed Dulsie away, and then she was shot. The sheriff would soon obtain that warrant to search Shad’s computer. How was he supposed to figure out who might try to kill him? Why did he have to find Wally?
A chill settled over Shad.
Wouldn’t it make sense that Wally would want him silenced? And speaking of silence, Wally was sitting awfully tight over there in St. Louis, apparently content with just waiting to see what Shad decided to do about him.
Or maybe Wally figured the best way to avoid any attention from the police if Shad wound up murdered would be to stay out of the picture altogether. Wally was a liar, but Shad was also convinced that Wally wasn’t a killer, at least with his own hands. It would take a few days to arrange a hit, especially since Wally most likely didn’t hang out with mobsters. This assailant was no pro, Pap said. What was the gunman’s motivation to accept this job? He wanted the money obviously, but did he need it to support a drug habit or gambling debts?
Only it had been Dulsie who was caught in the line of fire. Shad’s grip on the shirt became its tightest yet.
Shad couldn’t prosecute for child molestation, but he would be just as satisfied to put Wally away for attempted murder.
Ironically, his situation hadn’t changed much. Shad still couldn’t just go to the sheriff because he had nothing but conjecture. He still had to investigate Wally. But the main change Shad was noticing was in his determination to have the man put away. Any quarter he had been willing to grant to Wally was now completely nonexistent. Wally almost got Dulsie killed. Wally was going to pay for this. By the time Shad was done with him, Wally was going to wish he’d only had his arm ripped off and been beaten with it.
Shad stared at the blood and water slowly dripping from his hands. The washer had finished filling some time ago and shut off. He had a target. He had somebody to focus on. He was going to get the man who hurt Dulsie.
Shad finished scrubbing out the shirt and jeans with intensive vigor. He sprayed the clothes down with a stain remover before tossing them into the washer and nearly slammed the lid shut. Then Shad strode through the house and out the front door. He stopped at the white railing, gripped it in his hands, and gazed across the landscape of the farm.
As much as he relished the thought of hanging Wally upside down and naked from a honey locust tree, Shad had to figure out a plan to turn the man over to the police. When Pap said not to go anywhere, Shad knew that didn’t include hiking around on the farm. He needed to do some of his best thinking.
