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| ART OF THE DARK BY SHADY & CABBIE ESQ. |
CHAPTER 11 |
PART ELEVEN (PART TWO)
She stares back at him, unmoved. "Yeah...well...get the hell over it already. Your boys are going to learn of it, Starr's going to learn of it - them's the facts. And it's partly why I'm trying to raise a girl with strength ... someone who won't be hurt when she DOES learn of it. Not SO hurt, anyway. It's why you're trying to be a good father, isn't it? So she'll understand that the man who did that was someone ELSE, someone who's dead now. But then again...maybe the rapist is alive and well after all."
"I'd never do that again . . . " Todd says immediately, but his mind wanders though . . . to Roseanne, to those 'fantasies.' It's true . . . aside from the weird experiences, he'd found himself venturing into dark wishes, desires . . . like from when he was young. Getting turned on by things that are just really, really . . . wrong. He's not convinced the ugliness inside of him is dead - his temper certainly isn't - nope, that's one thing that's alive and well. The question is, how far will it go? He shrugs, whispers, "I want to see Starr. I want to say I'm sorry."
Blair sighs heavily, dramatically. She works to find some level of compassion...admitting to herself that ultimately, it's Starr she should think about. She supposes it would be important for Starr to reconnect with Todd . . .she pictures a psychologist telling her some such drivel, imagines the words in a parenting book. Those concepts push Blair against her natural currents of thought, though, against her wanting to punish Todd, to send him away for good. That's really what she wants.
"I hate you," she says, gritting her teeth and emphasizing her southern drawl.
"Likewise," Todd answers.
"I know the right thing is to let you talk to her. But I don't wanna let you. I want you to know that, I want you to feel that when you look your daughter in her eyes - know that you're hated for the things you do."
He nods . . . "You'll let me see her then?"
A pause...then... "Yes." Her mouth is tight and Todd locks the truck door. Blair stares icily, looks him up and down and snaps, "But you better watch yourself . . . you say the RIGHT THINGS . . . you make things RIGHT with her."
"I'll do my best."
He walks towards the open front door and turns to see Blair still looking after him . . . she mouths once more that she hates him. And Todd knows it's true - he finds an odd comfort in the sameness of it. He almost wants to hug her, thinking, thank you, thank you . . . maybe I'm not crazy.
When he's in the foyer, noise from the television in the upstairs family room drifts downwards and he recognizes that it's a child's program playing. When he reaches the doorway at the top of the stairs, he sees Starr on her stomach on the floor, grinning at the program's host petting a baby lion, he letting the creature nuzzle him. Todd hates to disturb her, she's so peaceful and oblivious. But he has to make things right . . . like Blair says . . . like he wants to.
"Starr?"
She turns to him and her face says it all. It brightens immediately...but then for a second, just a second, a new hesitation shades it. Todd feels it like he felt RJ's punch; and he almost turns and leaves right then.
But then she jumps up, letting the sun back in. "Daddy!" When he kneels down and holds her to him, he nearly cries with relief at how good it feels to have someone respond to him in a positive way. He didn't realize how long it had been.
"Aww, baby," he says after a moment, "I'm so sorry about the other day. I'm so, so sorry." He holds her tighter, but Starr backs off a little, wearing a sad expression, remembering.
"I didn't mean to upset you, Daddy. I'll never go into your office again."
"No, no, no . . . it wasn't your fault. You can go in there any time you want. It's like any other room - same rules . . . it wasn't your fault, Starr. You hear me?" His heart clenches . . . because he knows that's the mantra that hurt children need to learn - it was something nobody ever told him. It sickens him that he needs to be telling Starr that mantra.
"But I made a mess and if I didn't maybe you wouldn't be mad. Maybe . . .maybe . . . Tee would still be here."
Oh, god...she knows... he thinks for a split-second, but then refocuses. "Oh no, Starr . . . no, you didn't make me do anything and you didn't make Tee leave. My getting angry had nothing to do with you. You were curious and that's a good thing . . . I lost control and it was wrong of me to do that. *I* was the wrong one. *I* broke rules. And . . . because I broke rules, Tee left."
She nods seriously, their eyes meeting.
He said it again, "Starr, it wasn't your fault. You have to understand that. Tee left because of me, not you."
She's still not so sure and she wriggles in his loose grasp of her, so he lets her go. She rubs her arms and he knows she's remembering how he'd held her up - how he'd lifted her off the ground in a way she'd never known before. He swallows hard the lump in his throat . . . and caresses her cheek with the backs of his fingers.
"I wish I could take it all back...but I can't. I lost my temper . . . and you have every right to be upset with me for it. Please tell me you understand that it wasn't your fault, that it wasn't you who made Tee leave. Please tell me that, Shorty."
She smiles slightly at his use of her nickname, but she furrows her brows. "Daddy, why did you smell funny?"
He looks down and shakes his head, "Umm...alcohol. I was drinking alcohol and it smells . . . funny. Makes people act different sometimes . . . a little different. They lose judgment. But . . . it's not why I did what I did . . . it's just . . . that's what smelled funny. That's it . . . that's all it is. It's not why - it's just . . . "
"Grandpa . . . I mean, Asa drinks alcohol."
"And he's the same as he always is, right?"
"Yeah. Nobody should drink it. That's what they say in school."
"Yeah . . . it's bad for all people . . . especially kids. It's more poison to them . . . it's poison. I'm sorry about everything. It won't happen again - I promise you." He doesn't feel like making promises though - he's lost faith in himself. How many promises has he broken to Starr already? He's afraid to count them up.
Starr brightens for a second, "Has Tee called?"
He wrinkles his nose and shakes his head, "No . . . not yet. She will, though. I'm sure of it."
"She told me, goodbye...and she said to make sure I talk to you...and listen to you...and not to stay mad," she says, with that kid-like concentration, trying to remember everything she's supposed to remember.
She said all that...? he thinks, knowing that Starr wouldn't lie about that...wouldn't lie about anything. Starr was the last person she talked to...and even as angry as she must've been, Tea hadn't said anything bad about him. Not a thing. He suddenly feels that void, her absence in the kindness she left behind...and misses her more than ever.
"Maybe you should tell her it wasn't her fault that you got mad. Maybe she thinks she made you mad?"
"Yeah . . . maybe she does. I, uh . . . oh GOD," he smiles in an effort to not to get too emotional, but it's all so hard at the moment. He's at a loss for words and Starr hugs him around the neck.
"I love you, Daddy. And I know Tee does, too."
Tears find their way out anyway and he hugs her and he's thankful that she feels safe . . . thoroughly safe. "I love you, too, Starr, please don't forget that. It's forever, okay?"
"I know. And I love you, too, forever."
Later, when he drives away, he feels a little renewed, but still pretty down. He battles as to whether to take any more poison into his system. He wants to . . . stopping on the way to RJ's place. Pulls over and unscrews the bottle. He sniffs at the liquid . . . but he can see Starr's face, and he considers throwing the bottle out. Except just as he was about let it fly, he remembers Blair saying how much she hated him . . . and thought of the empty penthouse ... and he holds onto the scotch. Setting it on the passenger seat again.
Not now . . . but maybe later. Because Starr was away from him . . . safe and secure . . . away from him.
***********************
Across the ocean, night has covered the English countryside for hours. Tea and the twins sleep soundly in their room, having grown more accustomed to the place...the boys in the portable crib by the fire, and Tea in the bed, buried under a pile of blankets and pillows. Out in the main room, Dean sits in the chair by the fireplace, engrossed in the glow of his laptop ... reviewing, and reviewing, and reviewing again. He isn't really sure why...he knows everything there is to know about the upcoming job...knows exactly what his detail is, and exactly how to do it. Endless rehearsals were making sure of it. If anything, he knows he should be resting up, clearing his head...but he can't.
Sure you can...you just DON'T WANT TO.
Dean freezes...then whips his head around, thinking for sure he just heard somebody talking. But the main room is very dark in the distance, out of the firelight's reach. So it looms there, like a thick, shadowy curtain. He stares into it, squinting...then he looks back at his computer, shaking his head. He rubs his eyes, with a heavy sigh.
"I'm hearing things. Great," he mutters.
Mmmmm...that's riiiiight. You are.
Again, Dean turns to look...but again, nothing. He makes a confused face, knowing he's not imagining it now. He DID just hear it again...a voice. A female voice.
"Tea?" he asks, since she's the only female there. But his confusion only grows as he looks at the bedroom door...still closed.
No, baby...guess again.
"The fuck is goin' on here..." he wonders aloud, as he puts the laptop down and stands up.
Oooooh...y'know, I always loved it when you said that word. Some people sound so good when they swear...so sexy... the voice purrs, with a flirtatious giggle.
All Dean can do is stand there in shock, wondering if someone is playing some kind of game with him...or if...
Oh, you're not nuts, baby...don't worry about that.
A silence passes, then he walks around the room...looking everywhere and finding nothing. Finally, he stops, half-laughing to himself...then he grabs his coat and goes outside, digging for the cigarettes in his pocket. A cold wind swirls around him as he tries to light up, making the flame sputter.
Those things'll kill you, y'know... the voice whispers, right in his ear, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and making him drop both the cigarette and the lighter. He looks around, eyes wide. He doesn't want to speak...because speaking would mean giving credence to whatever it is that's messing with him...but the words start coming out anyway.
"Who...IS THAT? You better show yourself, and I mean, like, NOW," he hisses through his teeth...still not willing to speak in a normal tone of voice.
Don't you recognize me yet?
Dean half-laughs again. "Not really."
Oh, come on...guess.
"Look, whoever you are...this is private fuckin' property, and you're trespassing."
The voice sighs. You used to be so much FUN, D...where's your sense of humor?
D? he repeats, in his head...she knows you.
Well, no shit, Sherlock, the voice replies, in his other ear...causing him to whirl around. But of course, there's nothing there. His jaw sets hard and, tired of being messed with, he reaches behind him and pulls his gun out of his belt, aiming it in every direction...eyes scanning for any signs of movement in the dark.
"Show yourself NOW...I'm not gonna tell you again," he says, as calmly as possible.
Everything goes quiet for a moment, except for the wind rustling the trees. Dean's eyes continue to search, until finally, he catches sight of something in the distance...shadows moving within shadows. One takes shape and approaches...limbs seeming to grow from it without even breaking stride. He makes a face at the strangeness of it, then aims in as it---she---steps out of the protective blackness, into full view. His lips part, his eyes widen...and she smiles, her white teeth almost sparkling.
"Hi, baby."
Without realizing, Dean continues to reel from what he's seeing...pulling back slowly, gun still aimed in. He can't speak, but his mouth moves as though he were. She laughs a little, taking fairy-light steps, almost floating toward him. He backs away, but presses in with the gun as if it could make her go away.
She laughs again. "Put that away. You look stupid pointing a gun at nothing."
Dean lets out a sharp breath, which seems to free up his voice. "Wh-what...the FUCK is going on here...where the FUCK did YOU come from..."
"Shhh..." she replies, putting a slender finger to her lips. "...don't wanna wake Tea, do you?"
His face darkens at that, the shock wearing away into anger. "What're you doing here, Rosie...how in the HELL did you...how did you find this place?" he asks, flexing his hands around the gun, then reacquiring his grip.
Roseanne shrugs casually, brushing her hair off her shoulder. It swings around behind her as if carried on a separate breeze; and he suddenly notices her clothes...light, cottony...as if it were a spring day. He makes another disbelieving face, and she smiles again.
"Well...it's complicated. It'd take way too long to explain..." she says, gliding around him, "...but I think you know you can't shoot me, so put the gun away already."
Dean watches as she comes back around in front of him, stopping...seeming to set down on the ground, as she folds her arms. He stares at her for a second, then reluctantly drops his arms.
"There, that's better."
He swallows hard, finally giving into the idea that he must converse with this...whatever. "Tell me what the hell is going on here, Roseanne...how did you find us?"
Roseanne shrugs again. "Let's just say...I followed the rain."
Dean looks back at her, confused. "You...FOLLOWED the rain?"
"That's what I said," she replies, taking a moment to look around...taking mental pictures of the house and the grounds.
"Hmmm. Not bad...you get cable in there?" she asks, gesturing toward the cottage, and Dean follows her glance toward the house, then looks back at her with a humorless laugh.
"Quit wasting my time, Roseanne...what do you want with us?"
She cocks an eyebrow at that. "Y'know, you keep saying 'US,' " she says, then cracks up. "Ohhhh...wow...you fucked her already...good for you."
Dean's mouth falls open, insulted. "What?! What did you just say?" he replies, and she covers her mouth in mock-embarrassment.
"Oh, I'm sorry...what I MEANT was, you...made her fall madly in love with you."
He doesn't answer...he just glares at her instead. Finally, Roseanne sighs, rolling her eyes a little.
"Actually, now that I'm looking at you, no...you didn't do it yet, did you?" she asks, but still no response. She shakes her head at him. "Well, what's stopping you?"
"The hell do YOU care? Why are you so interested in what I'M doing all of a sudden?" he finally replies, and she grins.
"Because I know it's what you always wanted," she says, moving toward him. He recoils a bit, as she runs her hands up from his stomach to his shoulders, making massaging circles as she moves up to his neck.
"You've wanted her from the very beginning. Even when you were with me, I could tell...it wasn't me you were making love to...it was her. It was always Tea...you live for her, don't you, baby...you want so much to be with her..." she whispers...and it feels so soft, like silk touching his ears, his neck...so comforting...so seductive.
"Why...why're you doing this, Roseanne? The hell do you want from me..." he mutters, feeling his eyelids getting heavier as he stares into her eyes, fascinating in their depth and darkness.
"Shhhhhh...it's alright, baby, it's alright...just listen. I came here to warn you...you don't have much time. Todd came to see me today...he knows, baby...he knows Tea's with you..." she continues, her arms around his neck, her lips right by his ear.
"...and it won't be long until he finds this place...he WILL find you...and when he does, he won't be interested in talking things over. His rage...his fury...it's blinding him, taking him over. He can't control it...and you know what that means, D...he's going to hurt her...he's done it before, and he'll do it again."
Unconsciously, Dean reacts to that...and Roseanne grins as she feels him twitch in her arms.
"That's what I wanted to tell you...you need to move fast, baby...you need to win her...you need to make her see that she can't ever go back to him...because she's in danger...her children are in danger...their father is coming..."
Eyes still closed, Dean's brow tightens with worry. "But she doesn't...she doesn't trust me..."
"Yes, she does...she DOES...otherwise, she wouldn't be here. Baby, don't you see? YOU are her savior...YOU are the one. YOU can make it right...you can rescue her from this fate...you can rescue her children...you can make sure he never lays a hand on them ever again. You can do it, baby...just like you saved her from those gangbangers on that terrible night, remember? You carried her out of there...you SAVED her life...and the lives of those beautiful boys...YOU did that...and now you have to do it again..." she says...then suddenly, she takes a sharp breath in.
Dean seems to snap out of it as she pulls away. "Roseanne?" he asks, watching as she seems to fade in and out of view.
"Ohhh...shit," she mutters, looking down at herself...then she looks back at him.
"You have to do this, baby...if you love her, protect her...get her outta here before it's too late..." she says, walking backwards, retreating into the dark. Dean watches her go for a minute, then shakes his head as if trying to wake himself up.
"Wait...Rose-Roseanne? Wait a minute..." he says, chasing her into the shadows...but he doesn't get far. Darkness obliterates everything as it rises up around him, like he's in a tank that's filling with water. It disorients him, making him dizzy as it sucks the air out of his lungs. He can't even yell for help...all he can do is close his eyes, relax...and succumb to nothingness.
PART THREE
2002 Copyright by Shady & Cabbie Esq.
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