West Seven
Sebastian
He is life. . . for us. . .
A couple of days after Blue’s vigil, all of us Misfits were sprawled on the couch watching TV when Dale came running down the stairs. I sat up when I saw the horror on his face as he scanned all of us. Then he sighed so heavily he had to rest his hands on his knees. “You’re all safe.”
Huh?
A knock at the door had us all jumping out of our skin. Jesus! What is going on?
Dale raised his hands, telling us to stay put. “I got it.” He went to the front door and opened it. “How can I help you, officers?”
Officers?
“Hello. I’m Officer Monroe, and this is Officer Vasquez. Are you, by chance, Dale Weathers?”
His head tilted in concern. “I am.”
“Oh, good,” said Officer Monroe. “We’re looking into a robbery that happened at a recent vigil.”
I instantly walked backward toward the stairs. I wasn’t giving Blue back. The whole world could go fuck itself.
Creeping up the stairs, I heard Dale say, “That is most unfortunate, but what does it have to do with my household?”
“Well, there’s an item that’s been reported stolen. It’s a portrait of a deceased girl who once lived here, so we were hoping maybe some of the kids who still live here know something?”
Dale’s voice deepened. “Does Captain Ray know you are here questioning me about this?”
Oops! Dale is droppin’ names!
The female officer replied, “Uh, no, sir. We are simply investigating—”
“Even though you are not detectives,” Dale interrupted.
Monroe tried, “Well, no, but Pastor—”
“Is now running the department?” Dale waited.
Fuckin’ with the wrong house, assholes.
Officer Vasquez exhaled, sounding annoyed. “There is also urine on the pastor’s personal vehicle’s tires.”
Dale actually chuckled. “Do you think I’m the lord of stray dogs?”
“Sir,” said Officer Monroe. “You must admit it is a coincidence that you have four foster boys here, and we have four defaced tires.”
“Defaced?” His voice rose. “I bet if I did two seconds’ worth of research, I’d find out you two attend this ‘church’ you are investigating for.
Hmm?” When they said nothing, Dale added, “I believe that means you are abusing your badges. Or maybe your Captain needs to be informed you’ve been promoted to detectives.
I’m having lunch with him on Wednesday, so I could help you out there. Hmm?”
Silence…
“What to do? File complaints or cash in a favor later?” He didn’t give either officer a chance to respond.
“I choose favor later. They come in handy.” He was barely containing his anger and sounded eerily friendly.
“Come on in, upright officers of the law. I’ll do ya another solid.
I’ll walk you around this house personally, so you can report no piss marks or stolen portraits back to the pastor, oh, excuse me, the Captain. ”
That was my cue, so I took it.
Quiet as could be, I finished my way up the stairs, ran into my room, grabbed the portrait of Blue, then stood there, wondering how the fuck I was going to hide this huge frame.
When my blood oath palm began to itch, I remembered Johnny’s sliding mirror.
In the hallway, in the blink of an eye, I raced to Johnny’s—now Finn’s—entrance and set Blue on the stairs. I shut the door, then slid the mirror over it. Not a trace of a doorway to be seen.
Then I snuck to my room, grabbed a book, jumped into bed, and faked reading. As soon as I heard Dale talking and coming up the stairs, I realized my book was upside down. Shit! I fixed it just in time.
Dale walked in. “Hey, Sebastian. These officers just need a minute to look around.”
“For what?” I asked as if not concerned.
“A portrait of Blue. By the way, do you have a bladder infection by chance?”
I smirked, loving this immature side of Dale. “No, sir. Not that I know of.”
Once the officers went through each room, I followed them down the stairs. Dale was still pissed. His clenched jaw proved it. “Since there is no portrait in sight, and it is clear my boys know how to use indoor plumbing, am I free to presume they will be left alone?”
Headed toward the front door, Monroe said, “As long as they don’t try to be altar boys again.”
Dale lifted his chin. “Four young men inspired to get closer to God is hardly a crime. Whether or not it was a foolish endeavor, hearts were in the right place.”
Or I was trying to murder the pastor. Heart still in the right place though.
With barely a goodbye, the officers left. The door shut. Dale faced us all, then pointed to the dining room table.
No questions asked, we all took a seat.
Then we all jumped when the front door swung back open. Harmony cried out, “What happened?” When she saw us all, she dropped groceries and bent over. “Oh my God. I thought something happened when I saw those cops leaving.”
What are we doing to these poor people?
We all got up and either picked up fallen groceries or went outside to get the rest from the van.
Putting them away, Sarah made Harmony tea, and we boys apologized for scaring her.
“Not your fault,” she explained. “You had nothing to do with cops paying us a visit.”
Daled glared at us boys.
She noticed. “Oh.”
He told her, “Family meeting.”
Harmony tapped her cup while teasing Sarah, “Is this a tea with a special treat?”
At the dining table, we sat quietly, the Misfits staring at each other like guilty squirrels who had hidden away our best treasure.
Not that we were apologizing about it. We had been given a gift, and it was stolen away, violently.
I would do anything possible, including breaking the law, over and over, to keep the only Blue I had left.
Dale sat back in his chair casually, although his arms were straight, resting on the table. Then his fingers tapped. When they stopped, he asked, “Who is the spokesperson?”
There was a pause until Finn raised his hand. The way he did it felt like he was doing much more than speaking for us. He was ready to take the punishment, too.
Dale dipped his chin. “Fine. How did you know about the mirror?”
The true answer for me was that Johnny and I had noticed a hidden track. The rest of the Misfits learned of the mirror the night Blue died.
I guess Finn didn’t think all the details were necessary because he answered, “Figured it out.”
Not incredibly pleased, Dale let him have that one. “Why didn’t you ask about it?”
“You’d never placed a kid in the attic before. It appeared after Johnny arrived. Thought it was self-explanatory.”
Dale’s jaw ticked. “Why do you think Johnny needed it?”
Finn’s nostril flared as he stared at Dale, almost as if wondering how many nerves to stomp on. Then he replied, “Because he is the son of the president of a deadly biker club.”
Dale’s eyes widened. Then he seemed to slip into thought. Then this caring foster father cursed, “Goddamnit. He always jumped when he heard a bike.”
Gage warned in a stern voice, “Finn, you’re putting them in danger with this shit.”
Finn took a deep breath, then told Gage, “Want Dale to be forced to watch anyone torture Harmony for answers he doesn’t have?”
I think each of us grabbed our stomachs. That thought was sickening.
Finn, with a mature side that I wasn’t very familiar with, told Dale, “Working together is the best way to protect them all right now.”
Maybe visualizing Harmony in danger, Dale snarled, “Oh yeah?” He glared at Finn. “This is what you call working together?” His teeth gritted together as his jaw flexed. “Who is the pastor to Blue, Mr. Spokesman?”
Oh, fuck.
Finn squinted. His neck strained. Then he growled, “Her father.”
Dale and Harmony jerked in their seats, both speechless; however, the table exploded into chaos. All of us guys yelled at the same time:
“What are you doing?”
“He will try to stop us!”
“We didn’t want him to know!”
I screamed, “No one will stop me!”
Dale looked at me in disbelief. “Stop you from what?”
Maybe my face said it all, but Dale grabbed his chest. “Did he kill her, too?”
The silence said it all.
Dale stood and shouted to Finn, “You knew all along! Didn’t you? I counted on you!”
Finn stood, not backing down. “What do you think I’m doing?”
“Getting them all tossed in prison!” boomed Dale.
“Stop it!” roared Harmony. She was on her feet, too, demanding, “I fucking mean it! Sit!”
We all went quiet. We all sat, a little scared of the beast we had brought to life. A woman who hardly ever cursed and spent her time baking cookies and knitting had just awakened.
This mother, even though not blood, had become a mama bear. “You are my babies and will do as I say! Or I will lose my ever-loving shirt!”
“Shit,” whispered Sarah while wiping her tears and leaking nose.
“Shit!” Harmony corrected. “Do you each hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” we all sheepishly replied in unison, each sitting back in our chairs.
Not sitting, she pointed a finger at each of us in turn. “I’m. Barely. Breathing through all this heartache and loss. Two of my kids are in the ground! If I lose one more of you, I will stop breathing. I mean it. Do you believe me?”
The pain in her eyes was so evident; I couldn’t help but feel regret for not considering her feelings enough through all this. I whispered, “I believe you.”
That was all it took to break her. She cried to me, “Don’t take a life. Don’t be like that bastard of a man.” She sobbed, “Be the beautiful soul you are.”
At that moment, I decided it was okay to lie if it saved Harmony’s life. I’d make sure she never knew the truth once the pastor was found dead. “Okay. Promise.”
As if she needed to hear that more than her next breath to keep her alive, her legs gave out and she plopped back into her chair. “Thank you.” She took a deep breath, then said, “One more promise. From all of you this time.”
We all looked to her, me ready to lie again.
“If anything ever happens in this house, biker-related or whoever, don’t try to save me or Dale. Get to John—Finn’s room. Pull that mirror over the door. Hide away. Got it?”
We all stared at each other. It felt against our nature to not fight for anyone in this house.