Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Year I Stopped Being Invisible - 20. Chapter 20
When Taine had disappeared down the street, I closed the front door with a new sense of purpose. I had my angel, I knew that now, and he had me for just as long as he wanted me. I was hoping that would be forever. But he didn't have himself, and that was my new mission in life: helping that sweet, caring, wonderful boy to find happiness, and to find himself.
I knew that I would have to serve out the remainder of my suspension before I could help or protect Taine at school, but I figured that I could best spend the week by showing Taine that Sly really did love him, and that what he took as coldness was merely Sly's own way of grieving for his recently-deceased wife, Taine's mother.
Death could bring families together, I knew, but it could also tear them apart. I had heard the statistic about how so many couples divorce shortly after the death of a child...I was hoping that Maggie Maxwell's death wouldn't cause an unbreachable rift between her husband and son.
It was obvious to me that Sly loved his son. No one who had observed the scene in Mr. Towers' office after the locker room incident with Coach Keith could come away with any other conclusion than to realize that Sly Maxwell was a Papa Grizzly, fiercely devoted to and protective of his cub.
I wondered why Taine couldn't see that.
Maybe Sly was distant at home when there were no guests present, retreating like his son into his own solitary cocoon of mourning. Maybe Taine was still holding Sly responsible for the frequent absences from home during his youth. Or maybe, Taine just missed his mother and no one else would do. Whatever it was, I felt like I needed to fix it.
For all the death and tragedy that the Maxwell family had endured, Taine still had a father, and Sly still had a son. Well, Sly actually had two sons, but that other family bond was long-since severed. I just knew, deep down, that it wasn't too late for the one that remained.
I wandered into my room and turned on the stereo, planning to lie down and read for a while before turning in. It was then that I noticed the darkened backyard again through my bedroom window. It reminded me of the strange movement I had seen out there while embracing Taine earlier.
When I get to the bottom I go back to the top of the slide
Where I stop and I turn and I go for a ride
Till I get to the bottom and I see you again
Yeah yeah yeah hey
Curious, I went back down the hall to the living room, opened the sliding glass door to the patio, and peered out into the yard. I didn't see anything out there in the darkness, and the only sounds were those of my stereo and of crickets chirping their raspy songs.
That was when I realized that I hadn't seen Foxy in quite some time.
Do you, don't you want me to love you
I'm coming down fast but I'm miles above you
"Foxy?" I called, somewhat softly as not to disturb the neighbors.
No answer.
I frowned in puzzlement and called out again, a bit more loudly.
"Foxy!"
There was still no response, so I flicked on the patio light and stepped outside.
That was when I saw him.
Tell me tell me tell me
Come on baby tell me the answer
Well you may be a lover but you ain't no dancer
Foxy was all twisted up in Tynah's rope-hammock, which hung between two tall trees in the yard about twenty feet away. The ropes around him were red with blood, and his guts draped downward from his body through them.
I gasped in horror and ran to what was left of my dog. My gasp rose to a wail as I got closer and saw what had become of him. Foxy hadn't stood a chance. It looked as if he'd been stabbed dozens of times. His guts weren't hanging open because whoever did this had slit his belly. They had spilled out simply because there were so many stab wounds that his abdomen had just given way like a perforated postage-stamp covered in fur and blood.
Now...Helter Skelter!
"Foxyyyyy!" I screamed. My dog's cold, dead eyes looked back at me as if to ask how I could have let this happen. And that was when I saw the note.
Helter Skelter!
It was just a small piece of notebook paper, stained in blood and tucked into Foxy's open mouth, held in place by his dangling tongue.
I took the note from his mouth, my eyes dimly registering the way that the smears of blood highlighted his taste buds. I knew I would never feed him again, and I began to cry as I looked at the note, which was -- of course -- written in my dog's blood.
It was misspelled, and said: YOUR NEXT.
Helter Skelter, yeah! Ooooohhh!
* * * * *
Rex was furious when he got home.
Not at me, of course, but at "the sick sons of bitches who could hurt a poor dog." He had owned dogs all his life, and still kept photographs of all of them.
"Sometimes dogs are better than people," he was fond of saying.
It was certainly true in this case. Of course, we had a pretty good idea of who might have been behind this gory late-night creepy-crawl through the yard. If it hadn't been Kevin Gorman himself, it had been one or more of his friends.
The rest of my suspension was spent with Rex at a local shooting range, learning how to use his army pistol safely and with maximum accuracy. On Wednesday, a security company visited the house to install a state of the art system. Tynah didn't take a day off until Friday, but she finally had to stay home because she was so distraught that she kept bursting into tears every few minutes. She had loved Foxy so much, and I wondered -- selfishly -- if her grief over that dog was even greater than her concern for my safety.
Linda and Taine both came by the house often that week, and over the weekend. Taine kept me up with my assignments, delivering homework and kisses with equal care and concern. Linda was kind enough to tutor me a little in math, which -- due to my absolute cluelessness in Algebra -- we ended up working on more than our Duet.
We buried Foxy on Wednesday afternoon at a local pet cemetery, at Tynah's insistence. Rex was probably more broken up over Foxy's death than Tynah was, but he wore a pained expression through the whole procedure as if he found the whole ceremony to be a load of horseshit. I must say that I agreed, but Tynah was Tynah.
On Thursday, Sly Maxwell came over to talk to Rex. They agreed that it might be a good idea if Taine accompanied us to the shooting range on Saturday, just to be safe. This being Texas in 1981, I guess no one really considered the implications of having angry, gun-toting teenagers around, one of whom had beaten a much bigger upperclassman senseless and just had his dog murdered.
Since Tynah stayed home on Friday, I did end up doing my share of chores and cleaning. I edged the yard, moved some furniture around so she could vacuum, and washed and waxed her car. Meanwhile, she did yoga in front of the television and watched game shows. I caught her crying a few times and tried to console her, but was turned brusquely away.
Rex didn't blame me, but I'm pretty sure Tynah did.
I finally got some time away from the `rents on Friday night, when I went to see The Burning with Taine. Considering that I had just seen my dog butchered in the backyard hammock, I don't know why we decided that the bloody slasher film would be a good choice, but I made it through just fine, admiring Tom Savini's gory special-effects wizardry right along with Taine.
I guess it helped that our hands were clasped firmly together between our seats throughout the film.
* * * * *
Taine came over at ten on Saturday morning, and Rex took us to the firing range. I could tell that my boy was distraught and not concentrating very much, so I took him aside while Rex was taking a bathroom break. I led Taine down an empty hallway where we could have some privacy, then took him in my arms gently and hugged his thin frame to mine.
"What's the matter, angel?" I asked with concern.
He looked at me wearily, and I realized just how exhausted he was with his own emotional turmoil.
"I always wanted to learn to shoot," Taine said, leaning into my shoulder as I stroked his hair. "I always wanted Dad to teach me. Now I'm learning to shoot, but..."
"But it's the wrong dad," I finished for him. "I know, Babes, I know. But we're here, and your dad is meeting us for dinner right after his interview."
I tried to sound cheerful for him, but didn't embellish any further with something dumb like "and I know he can't wait to see you!" I wasn't Tynah, after all, and Taine wouldn't have believed me anyway.
"Yeah," Taine said sadly.
The hopelessness and longing in that one word broke my heart. Taine merely sighed and hugged me tightly with his head against my neck. I raised his face to mine with a slight touch of my hand, then kissed him slowly and tenderly, stroking the light fuzz along his dimpled chin.
"You know I love you," I said. "I will always be here for you, and you'll never be alone again."
He hugged me fiercely then, burying his face in my chest, and I was surprised by his strength. For a slender kid, he had some serious muscles in his arms. He pulled away from me reluctantly and jerked a thumb down the hallway toward the range.
"We better get back before Rex worries," he said. "I like your dad, Rick."
"I'm glad," I said happily. "He likes you too. He hasn't called you a snot-bubble yet, but he likes you."
"He called me a Whod," Taine said proudly. "That's better!"
I chuckled and threw an arm around his shoulder as we began walking down the hall.
"I like your dad," Taine repeated quietly, looking at the floor. "But I love you."
I was grinning from ear to ear at his soft proclamation of his feelings for me. I could see that his ears had flushed bright red from the effort, and knew how much it took out of him. Still, I couldn't resist a tease.
"More than anything?" I asked expectantly.
He stopped walking, then, and turned so that he was looking me directly in the eyes. The look on his face, although as sad and serious as ever, was full of love, and his voice was thick with emotion.
"More than everything," he said, and kissed me softly once again.
We went back to the range, where Rex was waiting for us with an impatient look. Taine didn't do any better at shooting this time either, and I could tell that he was still despondent and distracted. I supposed that protecting us both would be my own responsibility, so I landed my entire clip in the target's black circle, and Rex clapped me on the back in a rare show of pride.
I wish I could say that I felt confident and ready after my display of marksmanship, but I didn't.
One haunting thought kept running through my mind.
How was I going to protect myself and my Taine...
...when I couldn't even protect my own dog?
- 17
- 2
- 7
- 6
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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