My father’s face was full of pain and I could see…something…I’d never seen
before…brewing behind his eyes. My Mom stood beside him, concern on her
face. My father paced the floor, clenching and unclenching his fists.
“Todd…” said my mother. Her voice was nervous.
“Dad?” I whispered, crossing my arms looking at him…concerned myself.
“Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!” exclaimed my father stopping before the
fireplace mantle.
“Talk to me Todd…” said my mother trying to break him out of his…mood.
To my horror - and to my mother’s - my father began banging his forehead on
the mantle. Blood began to trickle down his temple.
“Todd! Stop it!” exclaimed my mother immediately rushing to his side. I
ran to his side as well and grabbed him by the arms, helping my mother pry
him away from the mantle before he could seriously hurt himself. My mother
and I found his eyes as blood trickled onto his shirt.
He said nothing but he didn’t need too.
“C’Mon Todd - let’s go into the kitchen so I can treat your forehead…” she
said firmly.
His face was full of anguish and pain. I stumbled to a chair and almost
missed it as I sat down. My parents had gone into the kitchen and I was
simply stunned at my father’s behavior. He gave himself a self-inflicted
injury! He purposely banged his head on the mantle. He was so damn
despondent he did it on purpose. I’d never seen…my father…so…defeated…
The doorbell rang. I stumbled up to the door and opened it.
“Trev?”
Amy stood in front of me. She was conservatively dressed, her head down,
and she was playing with her fingers as if she was nervous…and ashamed.
“Amy?” I muttered just gauking at her. I didn’t know what to do.
“Trev - I’m not mad at you. I never was. Please? Can I come in…?” she
asked finally looking up into my eyes.
“Yeah…yeah...sure…come in…” I muttered. Amy walked into the living room
and I closed the door behind her. She stood in front of me and we stared at
each other for the longest time. Finally, Amy spoke up.
“I was home - when you came by,” she said, her voice shaking. She was
scared and nervous.
“I thought you might be…” I answered awkwardly crossing my arms, “Why?” I
whispered.
“It’s my father Trev. This thing about your Dad accused of murder - he
doesn’t think I’m safe. He’s forbid me to see you or have anything to do
with your family,” explained Amy.
“My father didn’t do it!” I protested vehemently.
Amy looked at me, “I believe you Trevor!” she yelled, “I believe you! I
wanted to see you but my father won’t let me!”
I swallowed, looking at the tears flowing down her cheeks and gathering up
my courage, I took her into my arms and held her tight to me.
“I’m scared Amy…” I whispered, “About everything…”
Amy parted just enough to find my tear filled eyes, “There’s more, isn’t
there?”
“I feel like…my world is crashing down around me and I can’t stop it…” I
muttered, “I need you…just as much as I need my father…in my life.”
She brought her fingers to my tear stained face, “What’s happened? What
else…share it with me Trev…I’m not afraid…”
“Amy…my father…has a past…full of violence…and I’m willing to bet your
father knows all about it, and that - that is why he won’t let you see me…”
I spat. I could feel the snot coming out of my nose.
Amy broke the embrace and offered me the box of tissues from the coffee
table. I wiped my face.
“Trev, your parents - are some of the nicest people I know…” whispered Amy.
She wiped her own face.
“Appearances can be deceiving…” I said looking at her, “My father…hurt
people…badly…”
I fell to my knees overcome by another fit of anguish - and finding Amy’s
eyes, I allowed all the built up frustration and pain to drain out of my
body, “My father - is a good man! He is! He saves my life everytime I get
hurt! But he’s not perfect - and he’s certainly not a saint! Tonight -
tonight Amy, I saw him for the first time - helpless - backed up against a
wall - Amy - he gave himself a self-inflected injury ‘cos he felt - I
dunno…he didn’t have a way out…that man scares me Amy…I want you in my
life…and I want my father back…and that’s all I know! Amy - that’s all I
feel!!” I cried.
Amy fell to her knees and allowed me to cry on her shoulder. Finally,
after what seemed an eternity, I stopped crying. I took a tissue and wiped
Amy’s face and then mine. We kissed - almost desperately - as if kissing
would make all our problems go away -but I knew we couldn’t “kiss” this
away…
“Amy,” I said, “How…how…is it that you’re here? Now?” I asked.
“My father is going to be furious with me Trevor. We had an awful fight
tonight. And we exchanged a lot of hurtful words. I snuck out of the house
but as soon as he realizes I’m gone, he’ll come here. I know he will,”
explained Amy.
“I see,” I said standing up.
“T.D.,” came a voice.
Amy and I turned around. My parents were standing in the doorway to the
kitchen.
“If I upset you before, I’m sorry. I hurt you tonight - with what you saw
but that wasn’t my intent. I just felt so damn helpless. I swore I would
never hurt my children. But I have. I’ve hurt you all. I’m sorry Trevor,”
my father said. The cut on his temple was bandaged.
I swallowed at him, thinking of how composed he looked.
“It just hurts Dad. Tell me…does the hurt go away?” I asked.
“No, not really T.D. It just becomes a dull ache and a memory to remind
you…of what not to do…” he muttered. My mother stood strongly beside him.
Amy swallowed and looked at my parents, “Trevor said you didn’t do it and I
believe him.”
My father let out a breath, “But your father…thinks I did,
doesn’t he? He thinks I’m a…killer…and he has good to reason to think that
BUT I did not do it.”
“Yes, Mr. Manning…” said Amy lowering her head.
My mother took my father’s hand and squeezed it, “Todd. We will prove your
innocence.”
“But my boy - my son - my kids - Téa - our kids - feel the repercussions of
that accusation,” said my father stoically.
“Dad!” I said finding his eyes, “I will deal with it. We’ll deal - with
it…together.”
There was pounding on our front door. My mother answered it.
“Mrs. Manning. Is my daughter here?”
I knew that voice. It was Amy’s father.
My mother allowed him into our home. He walked in and saw Amy. His face
revealed the anger and disappointment he felt toward Amy.
“We need to talk,” said my father, confident as he crossed his arms, “About
our children.”
Amy’s father held his rage in check.
“Manning…” Amy’s father paused, “You…quite simply, are trouble. And I do
not want my daughter associating with your son anymore.”
I could feel Amy’s knees tremble next to me. Her father glared at her,
“Antigone disobeyed me tonight by coming here.”
“Trevor is a good boy,” said my father firmly, “My sins…” he spat, “Should
not reflect on the man Trevor is.”
“I have my reasons for insisting on this,” said Amy’s father, “Reasons I do
not need to disclose to you.” Amy’s father turned to face her, “Now come
on, Antigone. We are going home.”
Amy stood still.
Just then, our front door flew open and Starr came flying into the house.
She was breathless and clearly excited.
“What is it Starr?” asked my mom with concern.
“You won’t believe!” said Starr gasping for breath.
“What?” asked my father.
“My snitch came through! Dad! I know who the killer really is! It’s -
Vincent Reyes!” exclaimed Starr.
My mother gasped.
My father joined Starr at her side, “Where…where is he?”
Starr held up a piece of paper, “At this address.”
“We’re going there now. I’m clearing up my name immediately!” exclaimed my
father clearly excited by Starr’s scoop.
“I’m calling Bo Buchanan with this Todd,” said my mother writing down the
address.
“Fine. Whatever…” he said. Him and Starr headed for the door.
“Todd!” exclaimed my mother.
He quickly turned to look at her.
“Be safe…”
“I will…”
My father and Starr left.
TO BE CONCLUDED.
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