Chapter Eight
Mason
After we got our ice cream we told Jennie and Jane a slightly edited version of why we’re here. Once both had left to serve customers, Mikey had fallen asleep from his two ice cream cones. He always fell asleep when he was full. Made it easy when he was a baby.
Then my phone rang. I picked it up, seeing it was dad. “Hey...”
“Where in the world are you? We looked all over for you. Are Mikey and Morgan with you?” I sighed. “Yes dad, they’re with me. I took them to get ice cream.”
“Ice cream?”
“Yeah. The house was getting a bit tense. It was upsetting Mikey and Morgan so I thought it was best to leave you guys to your fighting while we got ice cream.” Dad sighed through the phone. “Don’t move, we’ll be there soon. Love you son.” I rolled my eyes. He was too nice sometimes. “Love you too, dad.” I hung up, putting my phone back in my pocket.
Morgan sighed. “Busted.” I nodded. “Yep. They’re coming to pick us up soon.” I gently smoothed back some hair on Mikey's head. Still asleep against the window. Morgan cleared her throat before she spoke. “So? You think he called more?” I shrugged. “Maybe. Hopefully he gave up.”
“I hope so.”
She paused, looking like she wanted to say something. “I...I want my life back Mason.” I frowned, unable to comfort her from my side of the table. “You will. It’ll take time.” I saw her eyes water over before she spoke. “I've lost my friends; I doubt the science club will take me back.”
“You can’t think like that. Things will turn out fine. You just...gotta have a little faith.”
I went up to the counter to get us some drinks to go when I saw Jane waving me over from the far wall. I went over to her, smiled. “Hey Jane.” She moved some hair away from her face. “Hi. How’s Morgan doing? I only heard a little bit.” Her voice was so soft.
We’ve known Jane since we were little but it was hard to really connect with her on account of her shyness. I always tried to talk to her, even a little when we came up. I sighed. “She got herself an asshole of a boyfriend that’s been abusing her. That’s putting it lightly.” Jane gasped lightly. Her tiny hands going to her mouth. “Oh no. What did he do to her? Is she ok?” I frowned, feeling more than a little bitter. “Roofied. Raped. Beat. He’s names Brent; he’s some sophomore in collage. Met at some science after party. He found her at the right time and took advantage.”
Jane frowned. “Is she ok?”
“Getting there. She still has a while to go before she’s ok.” She nodded. “I’m sorry, for you. It must be awful to go thorough. Are you doing ok?” I was a little surprised at the question. “Uh yeah. Fine. Just...wish I wasn't so helpless you know? Wish I could make her happy, make her laugh and enjoy life again. Wish I could have Brent’s head on a stick as a warning to others.”
She gave an amused smile. “Do you have my number?” I looked through my phone. “No. Weird. Guess I didn't get it last time.”
She smiled weakly. “I can give you my number and that way if you ever need someone to talk to you can text me.” I nodded and smiled. “Ok but why?”
She seemed to hide into herself a bit as she answered. “Just seems like you could use a friend. Everyone’s going to ask if she’s ok and if she needs a shoulder to cry on or talk. And I’m here for her to, if she wants my number but you seemed lonely.” She hit the nail on the head, making my chest ache the slightest. I was bottling my own emotions up while trying to protect my sister. “You have a point.” I told her.
I heard my name being called and looked back, seeing my parents arrived. I frowned. “Sorry to cut this short, parents are here.” She nodded. “It’s fine. I have to get back to work. Bye.” She ran off, going behind the counter to work. Morgan and Mikey were already by Mom and Dad. Jennie talking to them. My dad chuckled, speaking. “It’s so nice seeing you again. It’s a shame we can’t stay longer.”
Mikey yawned and mom saw, smiling, picking him up. I noticed they wore different clothes since their fight. I didn't think much of it other than a shower. She held him close. “Have too much ice cream?” He nodded against her shoulder. My dad looked between me and Morgan. “Everything ok?” Morgan shrugged. “As much as it’s going to be.”
I spoke next. “Dad, please don’t be mad at them. It was my fault, I snuck them out-” “Stop.” My dad said, holding his hand up. We were silent for a moment before he smiled. “It’s perfectly fine. I understand the house was a bit...tense and that wasn't good for her anxiety. But grandma is worried sick and wants us home for dinner.” Morgan spoke up with a huff. “By dinner she means heart attack on a plate.”
There was a moment before my mom started laughing along with my dad. I couldn't help the chuckle. Dad kissed her head, speaking. “That’s my girl.”
When we got back to grandma’s house she hugged us all so tightly. Apologizing for my parents. I chuckled. “It’s ok grandma, really.” I could smell dinner in the crock pot. It was her famous pot roast and it smelled amazing. We watched cartoons the rest of the day before we had to help with dinner. I helped mash the potatoes while Morgan and Mikey set up the table.
Once we all sat down we all started to fill our plates when grandma spoke up. “Hey! Did your parents raise you in a barn? We say grace in this house.” I saw grandma give my dad a look as she spread her arms for her hands to be held. We complied, holding hands while grandma lead grace. She concluded. “Amen.” She then gave dad a look. “Can’t believe you don’t say grace Marshall.” He sighed. “Mom, please we’ve all had a rough day.” Dinner was amazing and before I knew it we had to go home if we wanted to be up for school. Mom helped buckle Mikey in while we all said our goodbyes.
Marshall
After my mom hugged her goodbyes, Margret leaned into me, whispering. “Do you have her phone?” I nodded. “Yeah. I put it on silent so it wouldn't bother us.” She nodded. “Good.”
“I’ll go to the police tomorrow.” We got in, I started the car, waving goodbye to my mom as we drove away. We didn't get into town until eight and once we started pulling up to our house we saw neighbors standing around it, Charles and Beth. What the hell was going on? Margret looked just as worried. “Marshall...”
“Stay here. I’ll go check it out.” I parked, getting out of the car. Charles and Beth saw me, walking over. They were sweet and lived across the street and were regulars at church. They watched our kids semi-often. “Hello Charles, Beth, what’s going on?” Beth shook her head. “Oh it’s terrible.”
Charles started speaking. “We called the police but they couldn't do much without you here. Some punks broke in and ransacked the place, once the police were on scene they ran off. We told the police what we saw but there wasn't much more they could do until they talk to you.” My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. I started walking to the door, opening it.
I wasn't sure if I saw red or if my face paled. Our TV was shattered; our sectional couch stabbed and turned over. The stuffing was all over the floor. Spray paint littered the side wall spelling out “WHORE” in bright green. I felt my temper rising but I couldn't release it, not now. I had to stay in control. I had to be strong for my family. I inspected it more, walking into the kitchen, seeing all of our plates and most of our glassware broken, piled on the floor in shatters. The windows broken.
I walked into the dining room to the table flipped, and two more windows broken.
I turned, going back in the living room, going upstairs, catching a glimpse of Charles and Beth talking to Margret outside. On the wall going up the stairs was “SLUT” sprayed painted on the wall. I walked further into the hall. The hall seemed untouched along with our master bedroom. I saw Morgan’s door. “DIE BITCH” spray painted across it.
I swallowed down my rage and looked inside. Spray paint covered the walls, pictures. Every threat and name he could think of. Her sheets were utterly destroyed. Her pictures and awards were ripped and sprayed and shattered. I walked out, breathing even and controlled. I couldn't lose my temper now. I looked in Mason’s room, his bed was turned over and draws were open. Mikey's room was just as bad. His bed overturned, toys stabbed and thrown, a lamp broken. How can I explain this to little Mikey? He’s five years old for god’s sake! I wanted to be sick.
I suddenly thought of my kill room. The sub-basement. I nearly ran down the stairs. Turning sharply into the kitchen and into the basement. I looked at it closely. Everything on the secret door seemed fine. Nothing was out of place-wait...the corner of the rug was flipped. It wasn't like that when I left. My breathing got faster and heavier. I leaned against the cement support beam, trying not to have an anxiety attack. He knows. He has to.
He was down there. At least it looks like it. For all I know one of his friends may have just tripped over the rug. I breathed out a few times, getting my composure. Charles voice startled me. “Everything ok? Saw you running like the dickens down there.” I swallowed a growing lump of anxiety before speaking. “Y-yeah. Everything s ok. Just suddenly thought of something. That’s all. Everything’s good down here.” At least I hoped it was.
I made my way up the stairs, Meeting Charles and Beth's worried looks. I gave them a reassuring smile. Even if it was forced. “Everything’s fine down there. Really. Just a bit of anxiety.” Beth nodded, frowning. “I understand. This would make anyone anxious. If you like the kids can stay over our place until everything is-”
“Dad. What happened?”
I turned, seeing Mason in the entrance way of the kitchen. The rest were in the living room, looking around in defeat and horror. Margret was holding Mikey, trying to protect him best she could with her free arm around Morgan who was inconsolable, crying into her mother’s shirt.
I frowned, looking at Charles and Beth. “That would be lovely. Thank you. We were away at my mom’s house for a family emergency.”
Charles shook his head. “Shame. I wonder about the poor bastard that would do this to you. You're good folk. I can’t think of anyone that would want to cause you harm.”
I Could.
I nodded in agreement with them before speaking. “Why don’t you go set the rooms up? I’ll send them over when they get their things together.” Charles put his arm around his wife and she spoke with a sad smile.“Sounds grand. I’ll make sure to make a pot of hot cocoa. Com’on Charles.” They walked out of the house, giving my wife their sympathy for what’s happened before walking out the door.
I gently pulled Mason aside who already looked serious and ready to help. He frowned, speaking. “It was Brent, wasn't it?” I sighed. “Yeah. They unfortunately didn't catch him in the act. He ran off as soon as the police were on the street. Now, Charles and Beth are going to take you three in for the night or until this house looks...well like a house again. So gather some things of yours and theirs for the night. I don’t want Morgan to see any more than she has. Or Mikey for that matter.”
He nodded. “Got it.” Mason went through the living room and up the stairs. I went to Margret who was still in the same spot. Still in the same shock and horror. I gently pulled Morgan from her. She looked in the middle of a panic attack. Crying so hard and breathing so fast. I held her shoulders. “Sweetie. Please calm down. You’re going to make yourself sick.” She kept hyperventilating, staring at the wall. Not wanting to look me in the eye. “No...This is all my fault.” I gently stroked her hair.
She always found it comforting. “No. No it isn't. It’s Brent’s fault. He’s the reason you’re hurting and can’t live your life. He’s the one ruining your life. Not you. None of this is your fault.” She seemed to be calming, sniffling. “I’m sorry Dad. Mom.”
She looked back at Margret, looking between us. “I should have come to you when this started...I was just... Really scared.” She wiped her tears away with her hoodie sleeve.
I wrapped my arms around her, kissing her head. “Shh sweetheart, shh. It’s ok. We love you no matter what happens. You know you can talk to us about anything.” She sniffled, looking at the ground. “I didn't want you to be disappointed in me.” I got to her level, lifting her head to look me in the eye. “We could never be disappointed in you. Ok?” She nodded, sniffling.
“Now, Mason is getting stuff for you and Mikey and himself. You three will be staying with Charles and Beth for tonight.” She nodded. “Ok.”
Mikey sniffled, wiping away tears. “Why was someone so mean to us?” Margret shushed him, wiping his tears away. “Some people just are sweetheart. But you like Charles and Beth; you’re going to have a big sleepover at their house.”
“Can I bring Mr. Piggy?”
I tensed. Mr. Piggy was upstairs in tatters. How am I supposed to break this to him? I spoke up. “Of course. I’ll go get him.” Maybe I could find a toy that wasn't destroyed. I went upstairs to Mikey’s room. All were destroyed. I looked to his books, grabbing a few favorites, hoping these would be a good substitute.
Well, he didn't handle it well but he wasn't as bad as I thought. He cried into his mother’s shoulder for a few moments before accepting the books. Holding them close to his chest. Mason came back down with the three bags for their overnight stay.
We walked them across the street, thanking Charles and Beth again for their hospitality.
Once the door closed and we walked halfway across the street, Margret broke. Her strong facade crumpled into tears. I wrapped my arms around her while we walked across the street. Once we got to our yard I stopped, holding her close. She cried so hard against my shoulder. hiccupping a few times. I felt my own eyes water, kissing her head.
I hated that Morgan had to go through this and see what she did. Not to mention our entire house needed so much work. I hadn't even inspected the outside. “Let’s go, Margret. Our room is untouched so we can go right to sleep.”
She shook her head, sniffling. “No. I need to clean up. At least a little. I mean...” Her lip trembled. “This is our home Marshall.” I rubbed her back, trying in vain to comfort her. She continued, her voice catching every now and then. “I mean, we worked so hard for it, to get here. To make a life for ourselves. To have it just destroyed like that.” “It’s not.” She looked at me.
Her eyes broke my heart. I haven't seen her so lost since we were just starting out—just a couple of kids. I took in a breath. “It’s just a little broken. But we can fix it.” She nodded, wiping her eyes. “Yes. I suppose you’re right. Let’s go inside. We can call the police back in the morning. I suppose I can’t clean. They need it...” I nodded in agreement.
I thought she was done speaking but once we got through the front door is when she spoke. “I think I’ll call my mom. They should know.” I tensed. She always does this when there’s a family crisis. And every time she gets the same response. But I knew there was no stopping her. Even when we fought about it in our early years. I nodded, going along with her. “Of course.” It was best to play along, almost like a form of therapy.
She used the landline that was in the kitchen, being careful of the glass.
I stood in the living room, leaning against the wall to hear but to give her privacy. I heard her dial the phone. The phone was loud enough that I could hear the phone on the other side ringing.
They picked up. “Hello?” Margret spoke, sounding so small. Like she had gone from a successful thirty-something-year-old woman to a scared ten-year-old in an instant.
“Mom? It’s me.” The line was silent. Margret spoke again. “I called because... well... Morgan is in a really bad situation. Because of it, our house got broken into. They broke so much.”
“Why are you calling me?” Margret sniffled.
“Because...because I...”
“You what? Decided to waste our time? Whatever that little whore got herself into is her own damn fault. What she brought upon you is deserved.”
“Mom, please. I need you.”
“You decided you didn't need us when you married that filth.” Margret was crying now, into the phone.
Her mother continued. “You’re a weak, little, sniveling girl that not even your own parents love.” Her mother continued to spew insults at her.
I couldn't take it. I walked in, took the phone from her hand and hung it up. Margret barely noticed as she cried into her hands. I held her close, kissing her head. Sometimes it was better for her to shatter her own dreams than to attempt to convince her they’re already broken.
I don’t know if it was luck that our room was nearly untouched. Just some clothes were thrown and a broken lamp. We changed into comfy pajamas. Doing our nightly routine of brushing our teeth and getting into bed. I could feel how tense she still was as I held her close. I held her as we laid down, her head resting just under my chin so I could smell her hair. A few tears fell from her eyes but she was quiet about it.
I could feel the tears hit my chest. I gently shushed her, petting her hair. “Shh. It’ll be ok.” She sniffled. “I know. I just hate this. I can only imagine how Morgan is feeling.” “And we’ll help her but right now worrying isn't going to do any good. Sleep and in the morning we’ll call the police. Ok?”
She nodded. “Ok.” I thought she was going to fall asleep before she spoke up, nearly making me jump. “I love you.” I smiled sadly, kissing her head. “I love you too, my earth angel.” She smiled at the old nickname I gave her when we were teens. “Shut up.” I chuckled, holding her closer.
I didn't sleep that night. Couldn't sleep. While Margret slept peacefully I gently pulled out of her embrace and walked down to the basement, being mindful of all the broken glass on the kitchen floor. I opened the basement door, walking down and turning on the light at the bottom of the stairs. I swallowed my nerves as I went to the rug that covered the kill room. I moved the rug out of the way, turning the lock that was on the steel door, opening it, and going down the stairs slowly.
I looked at the whole thing. A large steel table was in the middle of the room, lights above it. The desks held my knives and saws needed to cut through a person with ease. I looked through each steel drawer and each metal cabinet. Nothing was out of place. Each knife and instrument was exactly as it was. I looked in the small walk-in freezer. I noticed the weekend meat was low but nothing was out of place or added. I walked out with a sigh of relief and headed back up to the room to fall asleep.