Chapter 9 #2
“Yes. I don’t even know if Devlin remembers when he’d been shot.
” Ayden leaned back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.
Like he was someplace else. “She’d taken him from us and Lica nearly went after her when she took him out back.
After chaining up Devlin to our tree, she took the gun and shot at him for the next hour and a half.
Hitting him several times on the arms and legs.
Never once did she hit him in the head or chest, but watching him bleed was something that I’ll never forget.
Dad made us sit in the kitchen where we could see it all happening, but there was nothing we could do about it as he too had a gun on us.
We weren’t supposed to go and save him until the next morning.
Dad sat there all night with the gun on us, laughing.
Mother had gone to bed by then, disappointed that she’d not killed him, I guess.
The next day, when we could get him, we took him to the hospital and had them bandage him up.
No one ever asked us what had happened. Everyone knew what sort of parents we had.
I’m ashamed to admit that I wished they would have asked, I would have told on them then.
But how was I, just a kid, supposed to save my brothers if they didn’t care either? ”
“I’m so sorry.” He nodded but still didn’t look at her.
She felt terrible for bringing it up and knew she’d have her own kind of nightmares after hearing that story.
To think that not only had the fates put two of the worst people together, but they gave them six of the most wonderful children, too.
It was hard to fathom what other things they’d had to go through as children, and she decided that she didn’t want to know anymore.
Just knowing that one thing would haunt her forever.
To think of someone shooting their children like she had was something that should have had her in prison long before now.
And she decided that even if there was proof that the kids found that they had a grannie, she was going to tell them that she was dead to them all as well.
Long after Ayden went to sleep, she lay there thinking about his parents.
Mostly, it was how they’d been able to get away with what they’d done for so many years and that no one had done anything to save those boys.
She wanted to ask the police department what they’d been thinking, letting them stay with them, but didn’t think she’d get any answers that would satisfy her.
Letting it go was the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life. But she would, for Ayden’s sake.
Not telling the kids but Selma and Hardey where they were going, she had the girls pack up their things for them so that everything would be ready when they were ready to go.
The girls could pack for themselves, and if they forgot something, then they could always buy it on the road.
They were going to have fun on this trip, and she was going to take lots of pictures.
She wanted good memories of this vacation, and she was even going to put them in a photo album.
Ayden was going to have dinner with his brothers tonight in celebration of the twenty years that they’d been free.
That’s what they were calling it, too, their freedom.
She was going to hang out with her kids and take them to dinner, too.
It would be a nice time out for them all, despite the holiday they were celebrating.
She only wished that she could hug each of the men for what they’d been through.
She’d bet anything that there were worse stories that each of them could tell about how they’d been abused, too, nightmarish stories that would have given even the worst kind of criminal things to think about.
Fred and Paula Fraizer had missed so much being like they were, and she was going to make sure that the dreams her children had from now on were going to be good ones that would make them smile while they slept.
It was everything she could do not to make an appointment to see Paula Frazier at the prison and tell her what a horrible person she was.
But she’d not. She’d made a promise to Ayden not to do anything like that, as he figured that it would do no good, and she’d find a way to upset her about going to visit them, too.
~*~
Guy was writing in a zone. He wouldn’t lift his head from the computer until he got the thought done.
He didn’t care how many ghosts or family were in the room with him; he had to get this down, or he’d lose it.
Glancing up from the keyboard when he hit the period, he saw that the only person in the room with him was George.
He was a harmless ghost who only came by when he needed someone to vent to.
He didn’t have time for George today. Or yesterday, for that matter.
He’d been on a streak for the last forty-eight hours, and he didn’t see it ending for a while yet.
“Daddy?” He stopped mid-sentence and looked at the little girl standing next to him. “You said you’d have tea with me and Mrs. Burns today. It’s today, and you’re still busy.”
“I’m never too busy for tea with you and Mrs. Burns.” He didn’t have any idea which doll she was carrying was Mrs. Burns, but she’d bet she served good tea. “Come on, let’s go get the pot ready.”
The only person in the world who could get him to stop was in his arms, and he would never turn anything she wanted down. His daughter and only child, Cindy. And his wife, Amber, of course.
While the water was warming up, he asked about the tea cups. They were looking a little worn, so he’d have to change them out soon. He didn’t want anyone hurt from a broken teacup. Smiling at Cindy, he asked where mommy was and if she should be having tea with them too.
“Mommy said that she’s too busy today, but promised that she’d do it tomorrow. Aunt Brandy is having her go over some paperwork that is really important to the business. She said that as soon as she’s done with it, she was going to have to ferry it over to her.”
“Ferry, huh? I wonder where you picked that word up from?” Even though he didn’t require an answer, he got one from George.
“George is teaching you all kinds of words, isn’t he?
Make sure you use it around Mommy or me before you use it outside the house.
Remember the last time he taught you some words that didn’t sit well with your teachers. ”
“I remember. They were powerful mad about it.” They had been, but both Amber and he had thought it was funny that she’d used it perfectly. “Hogwash wasn’t a word that people, especially little people, used, is it, Daddy?”
“No, not normally. But you be careful now.” She promised that she would just as he was filling up the teapot with warm water.
Cindy had everything set up on the table for them, and he got down the jar of cookies they could have with their tea.
“Which one is Mrs. Burns, and why is she having tea with us today?”
“It’s her birthday.” He should have known it was something he didn’t get a gift for.
Laughing to himself, he handed a cookie to Mrs. Burns and told her happy birthday.
Cindy, for a five-year-old, had a vivid imagination and enjoyed it when you played along with her.
“Daddy, have a cookie too. You know they’re good for you. ”
“They’re not, but that’s all right. I’ll only have one.
I’m going to have Mrs. Jacobson bake us some that don’t have raisins in them.
I don’t care for them.” He loved every other fruit in cookies, but he couldn’t stand raisins.
They looked like rat turds to him. “You can have two, but that’s all.
Dinner will be soon, and we don’t want mommy mad at us again because we spoiled your dinner. ”
“All right.” They enjoyed two cups of tea each, one with too much sugar because he’d forgotten what a sweet tooth Cindy had, and one he’d made so it would be tolerable.
After they were finished with their snack of tea and cookies, Cindy wanted to go to her room and talk to the dolls about the upcoming sweep and get them ready.
He didn’t have any idea what the sweep was, but he figured it would keep her busy for a while, and he was all right with that.
Just as he was going back to his writing, George asked to speak to him.
“Sure. But I’m not going to go hunting for your treasure in the rain.
It’s bad enough that we have to go digging for it anyway, but the rain will make it twice as hard.
What can I do for you, old friend?” He said he had a ghost that needed his help.
“What kind of help? You know I’m not solving murders in this book.
They’ll have to wait until I get to this deadline before I can go hunting again. ”
“They said that he can wait. It’s Mr. Jacobson again.
” They’d had trouble with him before. He was the husband of their cook, and he’d been killed in prison and still felt like he owned Mae.
“He said that she’s holding out on him and wants her to turn over all his money back to him so that he can make you bring him back.
I already told him that you can’t do that, and you told him.
But he don’t listen. I’d tar and feather him if I had the chance I had before I had to die. But he’s not listening.”
“I’m going to have to get with Selma and have him sent on.
I didn’t want to bother her with him, but I’m beginning to see I have no choice.
” George said he was tired of dealing with him, too.
“I wish sometimes I had the ability to send them on, but that’s reserved for Selma.
She’ll do it once I tell her what’s been going on with him. Is he still bothering Mae at night?”