“Oh no. I’d rather do it myself,” she answered.
Rio’s stomach dropped. He tried reassuring himself everything was consumed in the fire.
“Sit down and eat already. You said you were hungry. She’ll be up in a second,” said Alonzo as he set out some plates and sodas to go with their lunch.
Rio gave up trying to control the situation. He slowly peeled back the foil of his burger. Each bite of the sandwich tasted like metal while he waited for his mother’s return.
What is taking her so long?
He heard her footsteps climb up the basement stairs.
Holding a singed, wet, bloody towel and partial sole of an Adidas sneaker, she stated, “We need to talk.”
“I can explain,” Rio said as he dropped his burger onto the floor.
“What’s that?” asked Alonzo.
“Something Rio wanted to be gone. Explains the sudden impulse to start a fire. Go ahead, Rio. We’re waiting. Explain,” said Sue as she handed Alonzo the burnt items.
Rio scrambled every crevice in his brain to come up with a plausible explanation. Had there been no blood stain on the towel it would have been easier to lie. “Well…I was trying to cook something on the open flames…” he blurted, almost believing himself. The look in his parents’ eyes said different.
“Cooking with a shoe? Tell us the truth right now or I swear I’ll call the police and ask them,” threatened his father.
“Okay, but it’s bad, very bad. I was at Brittany
Bonaducci’s
the night she died. She had posted some things on Facebook that got me angry…I wish I never went. Anyway, I walked in on her. The door was open. She was in the middle of trying to kill herself. That’s why the coroner can’t determine the cause of death. She stabbed herself with a knife. I tried to talk her out of it and even tried to call the police, but she kept on
slicing herself…It was awful. She cut me when I reached for the phone. Look. There’s still a line from the scar. Just after she dropped her chest down on the blade, Ms. Fontana walked inside. The door was still open. I’m standing with my hand bleeding, thinking how bad this all looks. Ms. Fontana sees me and tries to kill me, I swear. It was self-defense…” Rio said.
“Bullshit! I’m calling the
po
…” yelled Alonzo.
“Okay, that part isn’t quite true. Let me back up. I heard Ms. Fontana in the hallway calling out Brittany’s name. And you know I’ve had problems with that teacher before. She’d never believe me. She’d think the worst that I killed Brittany, so I waited for her to walk into the kitchen. From behind, I grabbed the same knife Brittany stuck into herself. I stabbed Ms. Fontana in the back. You happy now? That’s the fucking truth.
S
he sunk to the floor and called out my name. I’ll never forget the sound of her voice for as long as I live. I panicked some more, and then took a glass pitcher sitting on the counter and bashed her skull with it. I stayed for an hour or so and cleaned everything up. The towels, my clothes, her clothes that I took from her room and wore home, all of it was in the bag. That’s why I wanted to burn it.”
Sue moved to the adjoining family room and sat with her back to Rio and his father. He could hear her sobs. His dad didn’t budge.
Oh no, he’s
gonna
bitch
.
“What kind of son are you? You left them both to die? Do you want to rot in Hell? I can’t believe what a fucking….” Alonzo yelled.
Rio drowned it all out, waiting until his rant was over. “I was terrified. I thought I’d get blamed. Oh Mom, please look at me,” Rio begged.
“What’s to look at? You’re a monster. Have you no conscience?” His mother continued to whimper.
She probably thinks I killed Brittany.
His mother withdrew, but his dad who remained
surprisingly
tacit appeared to be devising a plan. He sat holding the towel and rubber sole. His eyes scanned every inch of the great room. Rio sensed he was close to finding a solution to the mess, and being the hard-ass he was, the solution might be jail.
“Sue, please sit with us. I know you’re angry, but we’ve got to discuss this,” Alonzo said. His mother slinked back to the kitchen table refusing eye contact with Rio. “You really fucked up this time. Don’t know if your mother or I will ever get over this,
but you’re our son. The way I see it, nobody knows you were there. Maybe Fontana can I.D. you, maybe she can’t. She’s in a coma, so even when she wakes up…the drugs, the shock of it all…this might blow over. Where’s the knife?” Alonzo asked.
“I washed it and put it back with the other knives in the kitchen drawer,” Rio answered.
“Smart. Let me finish what you started.” His father lit the towel with the gas stove and let it burn out in the sink. He then cut the rubber sole into several tiny pieces and dumped them down the garbage disposal. “No sense in ruin
in
g your life over some slut. Sue, what do you say? Your son needs your support.”
Rio was in shock. Up until this very moment it had always been his mother who covered for him, who was easily manipulated, who was the forgiving parent. But now, in his hour of need, it was his father who was helping him destroy evidence. He had been so wrong about the man.
“I don’t know, Alonzo. Maybe we should get a lawyer and Rio could go to the police. He’s a minor. Make some kind of restitution towards that poor teacher. What if she wakes up and remembers?” his mother debated.
“This is your son’s life. They can try him in a court of law as an adult for attempted murder and if she dies, then the charge will be upgraded to murder,” Alonzo argued.
“Well, maybe we could move away,” Sue suggested.
“That’s way too suspicious. Listen, if the teacher does remember, then you’re right. We’ll get the best lawyer money can buy. But it might not get to that point,” Alonzo said.
His mother nodded, clearly uncomfortable with his confession. The tension in the room fell over his head like a black cloud. Although grateful for his dad’s defense, there would be no lawyer. Vague beginnings of a backup plan monopolized his thoughts
.
Chapter 46
Jessica watched Jake drive off. His comments filled her with so many emotions; she didn’t know how to feel. Preferring to ban the boy from her house forever, she could not afford to be hasty. She needed him, that much was certain, but she wasn’t sure what for.
Did you see his eyes?
echoed inside her head.
Absurd.
But she saw them too. Red. Delving deep into the logical side of her brain, she came up short. She had to admit the new, wide-awake Henry was different in other ways besides his eyes.
Henry had always been quiet or bursting with dialogue, particularly about subjects of interest. Jessica could count all of his expressions on one hand. Now he used eye contact when he spoke. He attacked his doctors.
That’s not my kid
, she thought.
Tom was quick to remind her about the skirmishes he had in junior high and then last school year’s fight in math class. Maybe Tom was right. Maybe Henry’s short temper was escalating as he matured.
Tom came home late as he did during the whole month of August. He had a big construction contract at a nearby elementary school. With the first day of school approaching, pressure mounted. He worked fourteen to sixteen hour days to make the completion deadline. He came home exhausted, not wanting conversation. Jessica put off telling him about Jake’s visit. She’d wait until he had a good night’s rest. The next morning she broached the subject as they dressed for church.
“So what you’re telling me is that our son is demonically possessed. All because his eyes sparkled in a certain light?” Tom asked as he fastened his belt.
“When you phrase it like that it
makes
me sound like a whacko.” Jess was sorry she told him.
“Listen, I know I’m barely home and all of this has fallen upon your shoulders…” Tom patronized.
“Not like we have a choice. Our insurance has limits. His doctors’ fees are astronomical,” Jess interrupted.
“That’s not the point. It’s very stressful. You might need a break. Why don’t we call my parents. Maybe Jake shouldn’t come over any more,” Tom said.
“You are so condescending!” Jess went into her walk-in closet looking for a pair of shoes to match her floral dress. “And Jake was a great idea! Henry loved the company!”
“No need to get hysterical. But Jake, from what you’ve told me, has some weird notions, no doubt fuelled by Lucien. I’m just saying he could be triggering you to…” Tom hesitated.
“To what? Snap? Go cuckoo?” Jess took her shoe and whipped it at Tom. Realizing she had lost control, she sat down and cried. “I’m sorry. Don’t worry about me. I can be Dr. Jekyll’s and Dr. Hyde’s next customer.”
“It’s okay. Life sucks right now. We’ll get through it. God will see to that.” Tom sat next to her and held her.
“Now I’ve got to put my makeup on again.” Jessica took a Kleenex and wiped her tears. “As for Jake, I know he knows something we don’t. Give me a chance to get to the bottom of this.”
“What could he know? It’s not like he went to Haiti with us,” Tom said.
“For starters, he told me Brittany said she was pregnant with Henry’s baby. And then there’s the mysterious backpack Candy Fontana dropped off and I can’t find. She said she was coming back. Why?”
Tom shrugged his shoulders with a look of concern. “I had no idea about Brittany. Was it true?”
“Don’t know. You have no idea about a lot of things. If you don’t mind watching Henry, I’m going to visit Candy at the hospital after church,” Jess said.
“What good will that do? She’s in a coma,” Tom said.
“I know. But I’m going anyway,” Jess said.
***
Once inside the church, the strides Henry made had vanished. He instantly reverted back to a state of catatonia. Jess checked his eyes countless times, the same grayish blue at every angle. Afterward, church members tracked them down in the lobby to say their hellos and offer their prayers. Jess and Tom wished Henry showed some of his progress, but he became more withdrawn, hiding behind her and looking down at the wooden floor.
As they headed for their car, Jess whispered, “What happened?”
“Mom, he was scared. Too many people. Right Henry?” Natalie asked as she looked at him.
“Yes. Don’t remember any one,” Henry said.
“Of course. It’s intimidating. It’s going to be the same way at school. Maybe you shouldn’t go back next week. Wait another month and see how things go,” Tom said as they drove home.
“I want to go to school,” Henry argued.
“Well see, okay? See what your doctors say. You’re seeing them tomorrow, right?” Tom asked.
“He’s got an appointment. I won’t be home until late afternoon.” Jess answered for Henry.
Tom was driving much too fast. Jess assumed it was the
Greenbay
Packers pre-game that was causing him to ignore the speed limit and safety of his family. She knew he looked forward all week to relaxing in the lazy boy, eating appetizers, and watching football. A twinge of guilt prickled her, and she was mad at herself for acknowledging it.
“You mind watching Henry for a couple of hours?” she asked.
“Still going to sit with that
comatosed
teacher? Go ahead. Maybe she’ll wake up,” he snidely remarked.
Tom was right. Seeing the teacher was almost ensuring a waste of time, but curiosity compelled her to go anyway. Jessica changed into more casual clothes of shorts and a t-shirt and headed to St. Mary’s Hospital on the other side of town.
The hospital was immense, a combination of multiple wings gradually added over the years after the original was built three decades ago. Not knowing where Candy’s room was, Jess parked in the main parking lot. She entered the remodeled lobby that gleamed of marble and shone of glass. Tom had remodeled it last year. She admired her husband’s work as she followed the signs to the gift shop. She picked out a large bouquet of carnations and headed to the information desk.
“Hi. I’m here to see Candy Fontana. Can you direct me to her room?” Jess asked.
The receptionist was young and pretty and looked disconcerted. “Oh…well…she’s currently on the fourth floor. You need to use that elevator over there, not the elevator bank, and then you will be escorted to her room. You need to sign in and I’ll also need a copy of your driver’s license.”
The precautions made Jessica remember Candy was a victim with an attacker on the loose. Security was necessary.
Once she finished the proper paperwork, she ascended to the fourth floor in the single small elevator by the information desk. As the doors opened, she was greeted by a uniformed policeman.
“Hello, Mrs. Novak,” he said.
“You know my name?” she asked, paranoid.
“The receptionist from downstairs just radioed me. I’m Officer John
Carillo
. Afraid I’m going to have to search your purse and sift through the flowers you bought. I need you to empty your pockets too. It’s procedure,” he said. Jess obliged. “Are you by chance Henry Novak’s mom?”