Inanimate (7 page)

CHAPTER 7

Water gushed from the faucet, gradually
getting warmer the longer it stayed on. Small hands rinsed off in
the flowing water, the blood splashed off creating long red veins
down the white porcelain. Connor did not like to be dirty; he
cleaned the blood off his hands like he was offended by it. Rubbing
quickly, adding soap periodically he removed the last of it.
Childishly he patted down his body creating dark patches on his
pajama top. Relenting to the fact he would not be fully clean until
he changed clothes he stepped back from the sink (water still
flowing freely from the tap) and stared straight ahead out the
window. His thoughts were heavy, submerged in his head. The full
weight of what he had done was sinking in but Connor had no
regrets. In his mind, he and his father were free now, free to move
on with their lived without Beth, free to go fishing as they
pleased and certainly free to relax in their own home. Connor was
not stupid. When Beth spoke those insidious words to him his mind
was forever altered; he did not believe he would be punished for
his crime. In his mind he was right and anyone who knew Beth at her
worst would confirm that. His eyes followed the leaves falling
softly from the trees outside. Landing gently, they flew nowhere,
instead sitting on the grass as if that was where they were meant
to be.

Beauty was the first word in Andy’s
thoughts as he cruised round the corner on his quiet street. He was
always optimistic on the drive home as his happiness from being at
work had not yet faded. He loved the fall season in the south. It
was not normally cold yet and thanks to an unusually warm year it
had been forecast not to get cold at all that year. Yet the beauty
remained, the leaves still changed color all along his neighborhood
and he loved it. Connor was only a passing thought in Andy’s mind
until he saw him sitting outside the house in his pajamas. Knowing
right away something was wrong; Andy did his best to suppress his
instincts to speed up, knowing that could be dangerous in a
suburban neighborhood. Slowing down as he entered the driveway he
parked carefully, giving himself a moment to process what he was
seeing. With a snap of the key he stepped out the car.

“
Connor? What’s the
matter?”

“
I did i
t for us” came a droning
reply.

“
You did what
for...wha
t
have you got over yourself? Huh? All over your clothes?”

“
I did it for
us
. We’re
free now.”

Andy
was extremely worried. Connor’s
speech was never this dreary.

“
You did what for us?
Son, you’re scaring
me, what are you talking about?”

Connor just
sat a moment before Andy senses
something was very wrong inside the house.

“
Where’s Beth?”

“
I did it for
us?”

Andy leaned down and
grabbed
his
son by the shoulders, forcing their eyes to meet.

“
Connor!
You’re making no sense?” Andy’s voice
cracked as he panicked. “You did what for us? Where’s
Beth?”

Connor’s eyes remained dark as a smile
danced from the corner of his mouth. Andy had never seen this look
in his son before and in an instant his brain summed up what had
most likely happened.

“
No!” Andy
uttered, doubting the truth
ahead of him as he ran past the boy into the house. Connor listened
as his father searched frantically around the house. Staring dead
ahead he could hear all the sounds of his father’s vain rescue
attempt. Doors burst open, footsteps thunder; all the while Connor
sat still. The only stir in the boy’s emotions was the harrowing
voice of his father upon finding Beth’s body. Andy’s anguish was
felt by Connor but only very deep in his soul. Deep was the only
place Connor still existed in the form he once was in. With great
love for his father it pained him to hear him cry. Even though he
did not regret his crime, he definitely regretted his father having
to witness it. As Andy screamed loudly, the open front door carried
his voice all the way to Connor. Dusk was approaching but still
Connor sat amongst the scream. The scream that told him everything
was going to be ok from now on.

A shrill grinding noise repelled Andy; the
steel legged chair from the police interrogation room dragged the
floor like chalk on a blackboard.

“
What’s wrong with your
son
Mr.
Williams? asked Sergeant Jacobs as he sat down in front of
him.

“
This isn’t the sort of thing
that just happens. There
is
always
a back story.”

The sergeant’s suit
was ruffled from
long hour days; he was above average height and doused in day-old
stubble. A quick shave in the staff bathroom was all the grooming
time his double shifts would allow him most of the time. None of
his peers cared however, the sergeant was committed to the job and
they all knew it.

With a
hand in his hair, tired, traumatized
and worried to death about his son, Andy sat for a long moment
before answering.

“
I don’t know. Beth and I had
problems sure, but I never thought they extended to Connor. And in
a million lifetimes I never would have thought that Connor
would...

Unable to finish; Andy broke
down.

“
I mean what father
would
? What
kind of father would suspect his own son, or even consider their
child capable of...”

Jacobs
was sympathetic but duty forbade him
to show it.

“
Look Mr. Williams, let me be
straight with you. Connor is a minor, which in almost all cases
exempts him from being tried as an adult. All except a case like
this I guess.”

Andy’s grief got the better of
him and he lost his temper, yelling
“I know sergeant; I know. I know what he
did but he’s my son dammit, and he’s still a kid! My
kid…”

Jacobs allowed Andy his grief
but did not flinch.
Sitting calmly in his chair, he apologized with his hands
before continuing.

“
The D.A will take into
consideration the age of your son and the nature of the crime. It
will affect where the place him but I’m afraid to say it will not
affect the sentence. He will almost certainly advise indefinite
care at Hallcombes psychiatric facility.”

“
Do you know that for
sure?”

“
Call it an educated
guess
.”

With a sniff and a long breath Andy
asked.

“
What are the doctors like
there?”

“
They’re very good
Mr. Williams,
they’ll take good care of your son.”

Jacobs
was impressed by how fatherly Andy
was in spite of what happened. Andy took a minute before speaking,
allowing the information he had just received to process
fully.

“
I’d like to see him. I’d like to
see my son
.”

It broke Andy’s heart to see his son like
this. Unresponsive, cold, mindless were only a few adjectives he
tried to push from his thoughts while looking at his only child. As
Connor perched himself on a chair in a solitary cell, with bland
walls and only a glass panel to peer through; Andy pushed other
thoughts from his mind, selfish ones.

“
What kind of a father must I
have been to allow this to happen?”

“
Why didn’t Connor feel he could
talk to me?”

“
What do I do now?”

Choking down the urge to break down, to
melt into his surroundings he pulled his thoughts back to
Connor.

“
Can I go in?”

The rugged sergeant
reluctantly
nodded and motioned for a nearby nurse to open the
door.

The great padded door opened with only
the slightest wisp as cloth brushed against the sterile linoleum
floor.

“
Son?”
Andy said quietly, trying not to
startle the staring boy.

Connor
moved his head round to meet his
fathers.

“
Hi dad
.”

Andy stepped through the door,
suddenly aware of how cautious he was moving towards his own flesh
and blood. Jacobs moved as Andy did.
Crouching down Andy looked at Connor head
on. The man was confused. On the one hand, he had in front of him a
boy that murdered his girlfriend, while doing so killing any chance
Andy had for a normal life. On the other hand this boy was his son.
He had been through a lot in his short life and Andy loved him
dearly. If he was being honest with himself, Andy had a third hand,
one that understood why Connor did what he did even if he couldn’t
condone it.

“
Son, how do you
feel?”

“
Good. How do you
feel?”

Connor’s question
was piercing in its
apparent naivety.

“
I’ve been better. Connor?
Do you know what happened today?”

As Jacobs
watched Andy interact with
Connor from the doorway he could not help but admire the man’s
strength. Dead conviction sat in Connors stare as he believed he
had did what his father wanted him to.

“
I set us free.”

“
You killed
Beth
, Connor.
I know she didn’t seem like a nice person. I know she said and did
things that weren’t always right but she didn’t deserve that son,
she didn’t deserve that.”

Andy
looked to the ground. On route to the
floor a few tears slip down the bridge of his nose and swan dived
silently. Surrounded by the holding cells’ opposing shades of
eggshell and ivory Andy tried to find peace in the floor below him.
Etchings on the walls made by other prisoners completed the padded
wrap that surrounded them. With a wipe that was more for composure
than anything, Andy looked back at his son, longing for a reason to
justify what he had done. Connor stared back, unable to match the
same emotional level as his father even if he tried. The truth was
Connor had a reason for his actions, and he believed it was a very
good one.

CHAPTER 8

“
Come on man, pass it
already!”

With a big inhale, a hold, and
then a slow release, a
thick plume of marijuana smoke swirled its way
into the night sky. The two teens sat in the flat of an old Dodge
truck, relaxing under a clear starry canopy with the crickets for
company.

“
I’ll pass it in a minute, just
let me enjoy this
.”

The stars
were clear and the horizon was
dim, a contrast always underappreciated by locals used to the
beauty.

“
You want to see me blow an
o?”
asked the
cocky freshman.

“
No! I want to see you hand it
over
!”

“
So do I!”

A voic
e from behind the two boys made the
toker choke.

Deputy
Lynch moved in quickly, allowing the
boys no time to react. They knew it would be pointless running.
Besides the fact they were a little baked, they would have had to
leave the truck behind, and the deputy would have found them
through that anyway.

“
Come on boys, you
know the score. Weed
is against the law. Hand it over.”

The two college boys never saw it
coming. Hot to the tip, Lynch turned the lights off on the Sheriffs
cruiser five minutes earlier, using his expert knowledge of the
county roads to sneak up behind them in total darkness.

“
Come on Dylan, give it
here”
repeated the deputy.

“
Come on Lynch” protested
the teen,

It’s just a joint. Be
reasonable!”

As if called upon
by the boy’s
rebellion, a sturdy older man emerged from his wait in the cruiser.
Approaching the van, his ominous footsteps encouraged the teens to
remain silent. In his late fifties, the man was an imposing figure.
At just over six feet, the natural physique of the man was framed
with a strong jaw.

“
What’s that Dylan?
I believe Deputy
Lynch instructed you to hand it over.”

Dylan dutifully stubbed out the joint,
quickly handing it over to Deputy Lynch. The silence was cutting as
the big man watched the resolve.

“
Well alright then”
the big man said
heading back to his cruiser, content that the situation was
over.

“
It’s just a joint
Sheriff!
Why
do you have to be such an ass?”

Freddie Lynn yelled from the flatbed;
Dylan had no time to tell him to be quiet. Stopping in his tracks,
Sheriff Oates turned and headed back to the truck, prompting
silence from both Lynch and Dylan. Oates’ footsteps crunched loudly
on the dirt road as he approached the truck.

”
Its Freddie right? Come down
here son.”

Six foot six Freddie was a whole five
inches taller than Oates. All two hundred and thirty pounds of him
showed off his college football physique. Dylan shook his head as
his friend stepped off the flatbed, bouncing the axel as he did so.
Oates paced up to the larger male, scoping the size of him as he
neared.