**This series takes place before "Love ...and Anger"...read about Todd's life before he came back to Llanview!**
37,000 feet above Pennsylvania…
Todd sat back in his chair. First class was quiet. Peaceful. Alone.
Alone in his thoughts.
A lighter flicked open. Todd opened his eyes. What? What was it doing
here? He shot up out of his seat.
“All right, take a hike. Back to Coach,” he said.
“You know Todd, you spoil everything. Téa was fun. We were having fun.
You’re not much fun Todd. You oughta’ lighten up a little bit. We never
should have let you out,” said Tom holding the lighter.
Todd looked away. It’s a dream. It’s not real. Todd checked the seat in
front of him. Empty. Good.
Again, he heard the flick of the lighter. He whizzed around, only to find
Rodd, in a tux, with a white scarf around his neck, holding the lighter.
“Jou no havea the smarts Todd. The flame. And the love. You distinguish.
Now, you don’t have any love. Isa very sad,” said Rodd.
Todd bolted out of his seat toward Rodd only to find it empty. Empty!
What?! It can’t be real. I faked it!! I did. He sat back down in his seat
and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes to rest. Peaceful. The hum of
the airplane filled the air.
That flick. His eyes flung open. Pete held the lighter.
“Nice try. You can fly all you want. You’re never gonna’ get away from
your father. Give me your hand,” said Pete softly. Calmly.
“No,” said Todd. He was afraid. Finally afraid.
“I said, gimme your hand,” Pete reached for Todd and held his hand over the
flame of the lighter.
“Feel that? Yeah, I know you do. ‘cos you feel everything. That’s your
problem. You can’t fool me anymore than you could fool your father. You
feel pain Todd. You always will,” said Pete.
Todd held his hand firm. He could feel the heat of the flame but he would
not cry out. No. No satisfaction. None for Pete.
Todd bolted upright in his chair. His hair – wild. Oh my God. It can’t
be!!
“Please return your seat back to upright and locked position – fasten your
seatbelt and prepare for a very bumpy landing. You mind your manners Mr.
Man,” said Ms. Perkins standing over him. Without another word, she
puckered her lips and walked out.
Todd held up his own hand. The lighter was closed. He swallowed. Hard.
It’s real. The DID is real and no one would believe him. Not Viki. Not
Téa. Not Sam. Not after hearing…Pete’s voice on that little pink tape.
Pete’s voice – the voice that was
his own. Pete. Rodd. Tom. Ms. Perkins. Real. All real.
What am I going to do?
“Mr. Manning,” came the flight attendant’s voice, “We’ll be landing in
LaGuardia in 10 minutes. We’re in our final descent. Do you have a
connecting flight?”
He looked around from his seat wiping the sweat in his hands on his jeans.
She was standing at the entrance.
“No. No. Need a flight. Book me on a flight…” stammered Todd.
“Where to Mr. Manning?” she asked.
Todd bit his lip. Who would believe him? Who? Who?
“Chicago. I wanna’ go to Chicago…” said Todd decisively.
She nodded her head, “I’ll make the arrangements Mr. Manning. Just pay for
the flight at the ticket counter.”
“Sure Lady,” said Todd.
She left.
Michelle would believe him. Michelle knew. She may have been out of his
life but she knew. In his gut. He knew she would believe in him. like she
did all those years ago.
The plane landed and Todd make arrangements to go to Chicago.
*****
A day later…
Todd stood outside the apartment complex that stood on the site that used
to be his home. He stood there – shocked. Expecting to find his childhood
home – now finding nothing. Finding disappointment. He wanted to walk into
that house. Make it real. Convince himself it was real.
“But I didn’t want to go back. It’s scary…”
“Wuss!”
“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!”
He couldn’t walk into it now. Not now. Couldn’t make it real.
“Damn you Father. Leave me alone. Stop haunting me,” Todd said outloud.
Todd walked away, down the street. He ran a hand through his hair. What
now? Now? He spied a phone booth at the 7-Eleven on the corner. He strode
to the phone booth with purpose. Smith. Smith. 41 Birchwood. Yes!
Smith. 41 Birchwood. She’s still here. Here. He found his rental car and
drove off. Drove to 41 Birchwood. Michelle would know…
He thought back…remembering Michelle…
14 year old Todd Manning stepped out of the shower and dried himself
off. His father was out on a business trip all weekend. A reprieve. He
was content to be alone.
The doorbell rang. Who? Todd reached for a pair of sweats and a t-shirt
and ran for the door – his hair still wet. He flung it open.
“Ah, Todd…” stammered Michelle, “Ah, have…have I come at a bad time?”
Todd ran his hand through his hair, “C’Mon in.”
Michelle stepped past him into his house. Todd shut the door and followed
her in, passing her up, going into his room. She followed him in. She sat
down on his bed and he stood up next to his desk fumbling with books, a bit
uncomfortable, “So…ah…what brings you over?” he asked finally putting the
books down and looking at her.
“Ah, well…I was…hoping you’d want to go to that movie we talked about,” she
said.
“Oh. That. Yeah. Why not?” he said awkwardly. Finding her eyes. Soft.
Her eyes were so soft.
“Todd?”
“Yeah?”
“Your legs…”
He looked at his shins. Bare skin revealed by his sweats pulled up to his
knees. There was a fading contusion on one leg and a fresh one on the other.
“You didn’t get those bruises playing football did you?” she asked gently.
“No. I didn’t,” he said crossing his arms, becoming uncomfortable.
“How?”
“You don’t want to know how,” he said. Hard. His voice was hard. He
could take it. Take the pain.
She stood up and played with her hands, “I want to know Todd. I think I
know. I’ve been over here a lot…”
“Michelle…”
“It’s your father, isn’t it Todd? I’ve seen him with you. He hits you,
doesn’t he?” she whispered looking down and then finally looking up into
his eyes.
“Yeah. He hits me. I deserve it,” said Todd.
She walked into his personal space.
“You don’t have to lie to me Todd. I don’t think you deserve it. I know
you. The Todd I know doesn’t deserve the treatment your father gives you,”
said Michelle.
He stood in front of her, not saying a thing. Watching her. Intently.
Slowly, she raised her hand.
“Will you let me…touch you?” she whispered.
He nodded his head.
Her fingertips brushed his soft cheek. He was mesmerized by her gesture.
Aggressively, he leaned in but paused. Taking a breath, he kissed her. She
returned the kiss.
He broke away, “I’ll never lie to you.”
“And…I won’t lie to your either…” said Michelle.
He pulled the car over. 41 Birchwood. He was here. The house was the
same. She has to be here. She’d believe. He got out and walked to the
door, pausing to knock.
“She’s nice Todd, but Téa…your wife…she’s the one the you want…”
“Téa doesn’t want that loser. He lied to her!”
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up! You leave Téa alone! I love my wife and I
know she loves me!”
He took a breath and knocked. Loudly.
The door opened and an older man opened it.
“Mr. Smith. Michelle here?” he asked. Her father. Had to be her father.
Couldn’t remember. Long time ago…
“I know you,” the older balding man said, “But I can’t think of your name.”
“I’m Todd Manning. I went to school with Michelle,” he said abruptly, “Is
she here?”
The older man crossed his arms, “No. She’s not. You haven’t been in touch
have you?”
“Where is she? I need…to talk to her…” said Todd, his voice shaky.
“Don’t you know? She’s with the state department – overseas in China…” he
said.
“China…?” muttered Todd.
“You want me…?”
“No,” muttered Todd, “No.”
Todd turned around and walked away.
She’s not here. His stomach was in knots. Shattered, Todd walked back to
his car.
“Go back to Téa…explain to her…”
No. Not now.
“Téa loves jou Todd…”
He drove off not knowing what to do now.
TO BE CONTINUED…
