Chapter 3 #2
He laughs dryly, scooping salad onto his plate.
“It’s pretty classic, actually. The dream versus the reality.
I was working myself into the ground, and while I did enjoy when I could help someone feel better, it was mostly paperwork and battling bureaucracy and insurance companies.
I thought being a doctor would be everything, you know?
I thought I’d be happy. Just like my brothers though.
None of us could see ourselves running a winery. ”
“What changed?” I take a bite of my lasagna. “Hold on. Oh my god, this is so good.”
Nantes laughs. “Thanks. What changed was Deo coming home. I was watching him from the sidelines, and the pride he felt made me feel things I hadn’t in a long time.
I was so desperate to make a name for myself that I’d lost sight of my grandfather’s mission.
It feels good to build the family legacy. Better than I imagined.”
“That’s brave. Stepping away from all that schooling and effort you put in took guts.”
“No shit. I really thought my dad would lose it, but he was too happy to have me on board to complain.”
“I’m happy for you.”
He smiles, taking a bite of his meal. “What about you? Happy?”
“Happy enough. My work is important, but like I said earlier, it does take it out of me sometimes. Like, I’ve had this case for a few months.
This little girl who started having night terrors out of the blue.
Her family couldn’t figure out what was going on.
She wouldn’t talk. At school, she’s a different kid.
Plays, laughs, listens to her teachers. She gets home and shuts down completely. ”
“Damn.”
“She had a social worker who did home visits, and everything looked good, you know? It was clean, kids taken care of, involved parents. So they sent her to me to see if I could get her to talk. It took a while but eventually she told me there was a bad man in the house.”
“Oh no.”
“Yeah. Her dad’s nephew needed a place to live and he was staying in their guest room. He’s young too, just nineteen, but we figured out he’s been sneaking into her bedroom a few nights a week.”
“Fuck, dude.”
“She’s seven years old.” I swallow the lump of rage building in my throat. “Fortunately, he didn’t have enough time to escalate before she started acting out. Poor child was living in fear, but wasn’t able to even understand it was him.”
“God. What happened?”
“He crumpled as soon as he was confronted. He’s been removed from the house and he’s in mandatory counseling in an in-patient program run by the state.
Come to find out, the reason he needed a place to stay is that his mom put him out for suspecting him of messing with her daughter—his half-sister.
She neglected to tell her brother that.”
“That’s so fucked up.”
“It is. The problem is, it’s not rare. It’s not the reason every child is in therapy, but it’s the reason a lot of them are.”
“I understand. I had to report a family once for suspected abuse. Their son had bruises and abrasions in places he shouldn’t have.”
“It sucks. It makes you want to do something to protect them, you know? The justice system doesn’t always do what it should.”
“I know, but you are helping them. You’re a safe place.”
“I try. Anyway, pretty heavy dinner conversation.”
“I can handle it, Van. I’ve had my hands buried in someone’s chest cavity before.”
“Fair enough.”
“So your work texted. Do they need you back?”
“No. He was just telling me about something that happened. A convicted child predator was found murdered last night.”
“Oh, damn.”
“Apparently he had an appointment with my office—not me, one of my coworkers—but he never showed. The police came to see if we had any information.”
“You counsel the victim and the perpetrator?”
“Not me, no. We have a different division for adult clients. We get a lot of patients like that. They come to therapy because it’s part of their parole conditions. Or it’s to prevent a longer sentence or for public optics. Very few of them are there to fix what’s broken.”
“Sick.”
“I could never treat a person who did something like that. I’d punch their face in first.”
“Same.”
“My opinion? You can’t rehabilitate a sex offender. It’s in their blood, and when it’s children they target, it’s…” I shake my head. “It’s impossible. I have yet to see it. Eventually, they relapse. Even the strongest person can only defy their nature for so long.”
“So what’s the solution, then?”
“There are a lot of theories. Some think chemical castration would do it. Others think they have to be permanently separated from society.”
“What do you think?”
As I gaze into Nantes’s eyes, a thousand youthful memories flood back. I trusted him with everything once, but not this. Never this.
“I think they should be permanently removed from the planet. Euthanized.”
“Death penalty.”
I shake my head. “I’m not talking about the court system.
Do you know how many years it takes to be put to death after sentencing?
Too many. A lot of criminals die of natural causes before the state gets around to it.
That’s unacceptable to me. The whole time that person is alive, their victims live in fear.
I don’t think the world is worse off without them in it. ”
Nantes nods, thoughtfully picking at his salad. “I guess you’d just have to make sure the person was guilty. Not victim blaming or anything, we should always listen, but there have been mistaken identity cases and stuff.”
“Not as common anymore with DNA and cameras and all the technology we have, but I agree. Due process is necessary.” I take a sip of my wine. “Sorry if that’s morbid. I get upset about the injustice of it all.”
“It’s not morbid. I have no love or sympathy for someone who could hurt a child. Or anyone, honestly. I’ve treated my fair share of rape cases in the ER.”
“You get it, then.”
“More than I’d like.” He reaches across the table and puts his hand over mine. “You’re a good man, Van. I always knew you were.”
Would he still think that if he knew what I really am?
“So, if you were planning to stay at your sister’s for a few days, you’re more than welcome to stay here. I have two extra rooms. Sounds like you could use the time away.”
I start to object, but the idea of heading back to Chicago so soon isn’t appealing. Staying with Nantes and his family sounds kind of nice.
“Are you sure I wouldn’t be putting you out?”
“Not at all. I’ll be working most of the time, but maybe I can take an afternoon off and we can go into Madison and get up to some trouble.”
“Like old times.”
“Yeah.” He smiles. “It’s good to see you again. I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Nan. We suck at keeping in touch.”
He laughs. “We do. Let’s change that.”
“Deal.”
I dig into my pasta again. Being with Nantes again is comfortable and familiar, as if no time has passed at all.
He’s just like the kid I used to hang out with, but obviously more mature.
Right now, he’s throwing me a lifeline that I definitely need.
I’ve got three days to let things cool down before I have to show up for work.
Staying here would be great.
“I’d love to stay for a few days.”
Nantes’s smile is bright. “Great. Nonna’s gonna lose her shit. Get ready for a baking spree.”
“I can definitely handle that.”