12. Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
Cowboys vs. Ninjas
Caleb
M y Thursday afternoons are spent at the clinic, but I’m distracted on my walk across the road when I see Weston talking to a man walking a dog a few feet past our driveway. When I call out the man picks the dog up and quickly walks away to a waiting white car. “Wes?! Wes!” Dropping the toy he’s whipping around, he runs my way.
“Daddy C, can I come to the animal clinic today?”
I squat down next to him, stilling him with a hand on his arm. “Weston, who were you talking to? Do you remember what we told you about talking to strangers without an adult with you?”
“To not to.” He scratches at a bug bite on his arm.
“Who was it?” The car is gone, disappearing while I was admonishing Weston.
He picks his truck back up. “I dunno know. He asked me if I knew how to get to…I don’t remember now.”
No adult asks a child for directions. Not without another purpose in mind. “If you see that car or him again, I want you to run away from it. Come find me, any of your other daddies or Agents Harrison or Bristow. Okay, buddy?”
He makes a face before saying, “Was that a bad guy? Like the ninja?” His current preoccupation with ninjas is cute, but I’m ready for his next fascination. This one is wearing thin.
“Wes. He could be. Just find one of us, alright?”
We’re in a rural area. There are no close businesses other than the vet clinic across the road, and an orchard two miles away. We don’t see random cars travel this back road often. This doesn’t sit right. “Ready to go check on our furry patients?” I ask him while pulling him onto my back. “As long as you don’t put suckers in their kennels again.” This kid is keeping us all on our toes. Hutton always knew he would. A ball of energy, spirit, and personality.
He’s my biggest smile each day. My heartiest laugh.
Once we’ve entered the clinic, I fire a text to our group chat about what happened with the stranger. Hutton responds first saying he is checking cameras. Keir calls me. “How long ago did that happen?” He snaps right into agent mode. “I’m on my way home.”
“The guy is gone. I didn’t get a good look at the car. It was a small, white four-door car.” I’m kicking myself for not being more observant.
“Plate number…any part of it?”
“Sorry, I panicked when I saw him talking to Wes.”
“What did he look like?” I hear the door of his vehicle shut and his engine start. “Anything?”
Shoot. No. I remember the dog more than him. “Hutton’s looking at the cameras.”
My exchange with Keir leaves me feeling useless. If this man wanted to hurt our child or gather information to hurt anyone else in our family, I failed in getting details about him or his car.
Cutting up strawberries for fruit salad, I hand one to Warner in his highchair. “Try this.”
He smacks his lips. “Mo..want mo.” For three years old he knows or can mimic most words. He even delights in singing and dancing along to music being played. It seems like his favorite to shout out when he’s getting crabby is “Daddy K.”
Blaine walks through the door, a look of exasperation on his face. Rolling his eyes he says, “I could be developing a big ole ulcer. I had a student ask me during a meeting with their probation officer if they had to pay attention the whole time. Then I had a whole ass conversation about skinny legends, predatory divas, and literal slay with two students who wouldn’t leave my office…fuck, don’t even ask. I’m still confused.”
He absently picks up a whole handful of the cut fruit, shoving it in his mouth.
“Are you an adult?” Eden jokes as she comes in with Zeb on her hip.
“Yeah, but not on purpose.” Blaine replies before kissing her on top of her head.
My heart lifts just seeing Eden. One of my favorite things about her is she leaves people better than she found them. Myself included. My life, who I’ve been able to become, is largely because of her support.
How can I even question if I belong?
Agent Steven Harrison and Agent David Bristow both come to the door. Matt strides through the kitchen to answer it. Holding the door open, he quietly speaks to them, pointing over his shoulder, then gesturing outside. We look on as the lightheartedness is thwarted by the seriousness of our situation.
The suspicious activity earlier today.
Hutton could see the man, but not the car in the camera mounted on the mailbox post. He sent still photos to Matt and both agents. Not that a nondescript balding white male in wire framed glasses is going to be ID’d that way. We all know to be on the lookout away from home for him.
“Down, down now. Pwees…Daddy down.” Warner pumps his legs. I think we can get rid of the highchair in favor of a booster chair. It’s time to accept he’s growing older.
“Okay, little buddy, where are we going?” Blaine sets him down on the floor.
But his attention is taken by Keir coming in from the front of the house. “Daddy! Daddy! Up, up, up.” A look of relief passes over his face as he squeezes Warner to him.
“Where’s Wes?”
Hearing his name he comes skipping into the room, Zach on his heels. “Wanna see our fort?”
“Let’s sit down and talk first, Wes.” Pulling him onto his land next to Warner at the counter, Keir continues, “Do you know how much Mommy and your Daddies love you?”
“Bigger than the world,” he says proud of himself, spreading his arms wide. “I love you, too, Daddy.”
Blaine and I share a look. Keir is getting choked up. He clears his throat, his voice thick. “That’s why we have rules. To keep you safe. Those rules are for Waverly, Zinnea, Zach, Warner, and Zeb, too. All of us need to listen to the rules.” Zach nods enthusiastically with wide eyes perched in the chair next to them.
I’m just realizing even though he follows Wes around, we didn’t take the time to discuss strangers with him after this happened. He was at therapy during the incident, but I worry he’ll feel less cared about because of that. “You too, Zach. Right? If you see any strangers, you need to get away from them and find us,” I add.
“Uh-huh, like when the ninja comes?”
My smile falls slightly. The cowboy phase can come back any time now. “Yes. Any stranger.”
Leaning into my side, Eden adds, “Just like we practiced when we went to the park the first time. If you can’t find one of us, look for an adult with children. Tell them you need help.”
The agents decline eating dinner with us, reminding us that they’re on the job. After Wes runs back from the kitchen to hand them paper bags with snacks in them, they both leave to patrol the property.
Hutton FaceTimes Keir about work matters, causing Wes to jump into the camera frame a few times to ask him questions. “The transcript of the message is in an encrypted email I sent you. That’s not the important part. There is a tracer code attached; it was done by someone who has some knowledge of complicated code. In that code…is a warning or threat. Take me off FaceTime before I continue.” His voice is getting irritated.
But now, we’re all paying attention. The hand holding Eden’s fork is shaking. I put my hand on her knee. Keir turns his camera off before swiftly leaving the table. Both Matt and Blaine follow him out the kitchen door. “I thought we’d have a nice meal,” I joke weakly. “The kids seem to be enjoying it.” Waverly runs her fork over the marinated chicken breast with her lower lip sticking out. Zinnea hasn’t touched her silverware where she is seated at the opposite end of the table. The boys are more focused on their toy cars than eating. “I’m kidding…”
“It’s delicious, I just don’t have much of an appetite, sweetheart,” Eden says in a hushed voice.
God, give me the words of comfort she needs. Instead, after a few more minutes in silence, we clear the table as the kids scatter. I put music on while loading the dishwasher, a routine I’ve come to look forward to, making the chore fun with our little dances and off-key bellowing of lyrics. She’s not going for it tonight. Even my awkward, made-up dance moves don’t make her crack a smile. “Tough audience tonight, angel.”
The plate she’s loading gets set on the counter as she forces a smile on her face. “The worst.” She wraps her arms around her middle tightly. “We’re in danger. Real danger, Caleb.”
“I know.” The safety we felt in the bubble of life created here in New York feels like it’s worn away. Everyone is on edge. Putting a hand out to her, I pull her into a hug, saying quietly, “Lord, I surrender my worries to You. Guide me in Your wisdom, and may Your presence light my path. In Your hands, I find comfort and assurance. In Jesus's Name, Amen.”
We hold each other, swaying to the music playing. I imagine what it would be like to be alone. Just Eden and me. The kids. It would be simple. No outside threats from work the FBI does, no revenge from Hutton’s clients’ adversaries, no drama from Blaine…simple. I’d have my nights lying next to her in bed. We’d show more affection in public. I’d have a fighting chance to get Eden more receptive to church. Simple.
Monogamy. Isn’t that the way God would want it?
The prophecy of the FLDS Holy Brotherhood would have me believe that polygamy, one husband and as many wives as possible, is God’s way. That never felt right, especially when I saw my uncle taking ten- and twelve-year-old wives. Why would God not want Eden to have five husbands who love her, protect her, and are loyal to her? If polygamy is right for a man, it should follow that it’s right for a woman, too.
My habit of playing with my wedding ring catches her attention. She runs her hand over the stone, tenderness in her expression as she says, “I love you. No one calms me like you do, and no one else ever will.” It’s like she is reading my mind. Or God is speaking her truth to my heart? I’m her safe space. It’s not simple, this life we’ve built. But I can be her calm in the storm.
Words to a song playing cut me. “Aw, pitter patter, it’s just my heart, why does it matter?”
That’s the real truth: My heart doesn’t matter as much as anyone else’s in this family. I will always put them first.