Dead, Sweet Boy (Book One - Dead, Sweet Series) Page 3

“You took the car?” my mother asked.

  I ignored her question, but thought carefully. Had any of the guys at practice mentioned the time? Yes. My face always scrunched while concentrating. The cops looked at each other. Do they know?

  My hands were sweating as the explanation formed in my mouth. The dampness bothered me but to wipe them felt like a clue. I searched for music in my head to calm me. Thank the stars the song that came to my head was, Until the End. I tried to get the band to play louder in my head and my stomach, but the cops kept interrupting Breaking Benjamin’s encouragement.

  “Well I’m not sure. Must have been close to eight. Rick from the band had a date at nine.”

  It’s easy, to fall apart completely, I feel you creeping up again. The lyrics started.

  “You went straight home?”

  “No, I stopped to get gas and a soda.” Crap, crap, crap! I bought gas for my car, not the fire. You idiot! Why did you stop for gas? You used gas for the fire. Idiot! I reached my hand to the empty space on the couch, next to me. It was where Mack would have been sitting if he were still with me, and I wanted him there.

  It’s over, no longer, I feel it growing colder. The music tried to keep up. I stopped my lips from singing along.

  Perez’s eyebrow lifted a little. It was a clue. “What gas station?”

  “Uh, the one by the cemetery in town.” Frick! The one by the grave of my sweet boy. That would mean something to them, even though it doesn’t mean a thing. I’m so stupid. I shook my head violently. From the corner of my eye, I could see my mother wringing her hands. Go get a drink mom, you aren’t helping, I thought. My hand clutched deeply into the cushion next to me. I was angry at Mack. He shouldn’t have left me.

  “Did you pay inside?” Perez was writing stuff down in a little notebook.

  “Yes, I bought a drink. I told you. Why?”

  I knew this day would come to end, I sang in my head, but it was hard to keep the music flowing. My lips were moving again, I was sure of it. Both of the cops noticed and looked a little confused.

  “Who waited on you?”

  “I don’t know. She’s new. An older lady.”

  So let this life begin.

  Why hadn’t I expected this? Why were they questioning me? This wasn’t part of what I planned. “What’s going on?” I asked. “Do you want my receipt? Do you want the pop bottle? It’s out by the pool.” Thank God I didn’t use it to carry the gas in, like I thought about, only because I couldn’t finish it. Thank God there was an old half gallon milk jug in the garage, and thank God I sank it in the river. Would they find it?

  “Were you alone at the house last night?” Perez asked, with a little smirk of his own. His smirk seemed to spark that little light of regret from the night before to return. My thumb on my right hand started to twitch. Before it could spread, I stuck my hand under my ass. He caught the move.

  “Yes, I’m… al … always alone now,” I stuttered.

  Living is hard enough, the lyrics kept playing, without you fucking up.

  Perez looked up at my mother. His eyes looked a little apologetic.

  “We went to the club last night,” she explained defensively. “What? My husband and I went to our club.”

  The blood rushed from my pounding heart to my ears and my head. A buzzing sound filled the air between me and the cops, messing up my thoughts. My voice changed to a defensive squeal. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, I’m alone because Mack is gone.” The tears came. This was the first day I said his name aloud since he left. I tried to push the tears back, but when I saw that Perez’s sympathy turned to me, I let them flow.

  The final fight I’ll win.

  “I know this is a rough time for you Sunny, and I’m sorry, but the Cook house was burned down on purpose. Whatever information you can give me would be great. You said that Rick had a date?”

  “Yes. What? No really, he had a date. He was excited about it. Are you thinking Rick would…? No, Rick would never do anything like that.”

  “Like we said, this is an investigation. We have to ask questions like that. We didn’t come here first you know.” Stark settled back in our sofa as if he were claiming it; as if he were my father. I didn’t like him.

  One more thing that I didn’t count on - someone else was getting blamed for what I did. This wasn’t good. No, this was downright awful. I could feel my confession forming itself in my belly, like sentences that would hang me, right next to Mack.

  “Do you know anyone that would want to do that to the Cooks?” Perez asked. He was more sympathetic in his questioning. The tears worked.

  The final fight I’ll win. The music started up again. I caught myself humming. That caught their eye.

  The answer wouldn’t form. Sweat beaded on my neck, under my hair and it terrified me that it might start appearing on my face. My chest was moving up and down rapidly with my frightened breaths. I wanted Mack. He would know what to do. But there was nothing but an empty space where he should be and it was a space I was falling darkly into.

  Perez leaned forward with that sympathetic look and with his big brown eyes, started to confide in me. “People talk. Kids talk.”

  My mouth went dry and my thoughts raced to the fire, the river and the bottom of the pool. My feelings swirled inside, as my life flushed.

  The final fight I’ll win.

  “Do you know what they’re saying?” he asked softly.

  It would have been better if he yelled at me. Maybe then some sort of defense could ignite like the match did. His eyes moved to my leg that was bouncing nervously. I stopped. Too abrupt. He answered his own question.

  “They’re talking about your band. Mostly Rick. They say at the funeral Rick called Linda a killer. Why would he do that?”

  “Rick? Are you crazy?”

  Frick, frick, frick! The real swear words would never come out of my mouth again. Mack hated it when I swore. He said it was like pouring vomit from a crystal vase. It really used to piss me off because he never said anything to the rest of the band about swearing. He swore too.

  “We already talked to Rick and he doesn’t have an alibi. He didn’t have a date, at least not one he can tell us about, and it isn’t a secret that your band didn’t care for Linda at all.”

  “You’re wrong. He told me about the date. Rick would never - I mean never do anything like that. You have it all wrong.” Not Rick. Not the quiet, gentle guy in the band who never did anything but adore our music and play his heart out on his guitar. Rick adored Mack. This wasn’t good.

  My mother’s sigh was noticeable as she moved behind me with her hand over her mouth. Thank goodness for her pills, they would help later. That little seed of regret was growing in my stomach, making me want to puke. My life was turning into a young adult novel or a crime movie right in front of my shaking body. Part of me wanted to confess so I could breathe again, but I didn’t want anyone to know the evil my hands did. They shouldn’t believe it; they shouldn’t believe that of me.

  Then it came to me. I let the air out of my body with a sigh of relief, pausing for effect, like I was hiding something and ready to confess. Perez took the bait.

  “Is there something you need to tell me Sunny? Do you know who could have done this?” He looked so eager. Like he was about to hear the truth. His smile was genuine.

  But I will go on until the end. The music came louder now.

  “Sunny, if you know anything tell them,” my mother said. It was almost on queue. God she was stupid. She couldn’t tell I was lying.

  “I hate to say this, and maybe it doesn’t mean anything, but Linda said many times that she and her mother should just burn that house down so they could get another one. I know she was ashamed of her house. There was this time, I guess their water heater caught on fire and they actually thought about…”

  “I don’t think that’s the case here,” Perez interrupted. ”Their dog was lost in the fire.”

  So. There are no excuses for evil. I thoug
ht there were, but then it hit me. Everything I knew in my heart and mind shifted just a little to the new reality his words struck me with.

  I’ve lost my way, I’ve lost my way, but I will go on until the end. The song in my head stopped.

  “I killed a dog?”

  When I vomited, some chunks landed on Perez’s shoes. I felt bad.

  Chapter Four

  Sleeping With the Past

  Like a thief he’s come, like a thief he’s gone

  He’s stolen your tears one by one

  You’re proud to love him, it’s a foolish sign

  You’re a broken heart at the scene of a crime

  (Elton John’s, Sleeping With the Past)

  Six months isn’t a very long time when you don’t want to go back into the world. It’s such a small fraction of time if you think about it. When the heat came down on Rick for real, I couldn’t let him take the blame and that’s exactly what he was going to do. He was sure that one of us in the band had done it. At least that’s what he told me. I couldn’t understand why he would risk himself for one of us. And out of everyone in my old and empty life, Rick was the one who kept in touch.

  He was the one who picked me up from prison. Okay, it’s not exactly prison. For six months, because of my family’s money and influence, I was tucked away at a sort of boarding school for bad Christian kids. Yes, for six months I was subjected to Christian music and movies. And for six months they couldn’t get me to talk about him, no matter how hard they tried. Mack was tucked neatly away in my heart, the way I wanted to remember him. But sometimes I thought I could see him. Simply a side effect of going over the edge I guessed.

  “I don’t think you’re ready to go Sunny.” The Doc was only ten or so years older than me and a woman who was way too kind for her own good.

  The worst thing about the place was I couldn’t have my music with me. All I had was my memory, and the music I loved couldn’t fade. There was no way I would listen to their polluted version of the truth. In order to even tolerate their music I would have to morph into some creature that couldn’t breathe for itself. God made me this way. They kept telling me that God was good. I guess not good enough, because they wanted me to change.

  “Well then keep me here if you want. I really don’t care,” I told her, in my best flippant tone. This was my exit interview with the doctor. I was leaving. Going home.

  “Sunny, if only I could, I think I would. But honestly we both know it’s not going to make a difference even if my hands weren’t tied. Just know this. You have to talk about it to get past it.”

  “Oh I know. You’ve told me that enough times,” I said sarcastically. Our meetings never bore any fruit and I didn’t understand why she kept trying. If I were going to talk, it wouldn’t be to someone like her. She was so prim and proper for real. People always got that impression from me. My vocabulary was formal sometimes, because of my surroundings, but this lady was the real deal. What did she know about darkness?

  “Maybe you could let me in on something I find curious about you. It’s the singing thing you do. Well actually I’ve never witnessed it myself, but others who did, reported back to me. Is it really something you can’t help?”

  Good question. I tried to remember if anyone had ever come out and asked me that before. My parents thought it was some rebellious stunt I’d pull to avoid their lectures. My band just accepted it and people who didn’t know me thought I was a little crazy. At school, I served a couple of detentions for that craziness.

  When I didn’t answer she sighed and tried another approach. Probably because she could tell by my face that she hit a nerve. “Okay then, let’s assume that you can’t help but sing at inappropriate times. When did this first start? Do you know why it happens?”

  Another good question I didn’t have an answer for. I wasn’t about to tell her I couldn’t help breaking out into spontaneous song. The first time it happened I was in front of the class making a speech I wasn’t prepared for. God, that was embarrassing. Mack said it was a gift. Yeah right. I know when it’s going to happen, but I can’t stop it. I feel all clogged up and unable to say what I want to say, and then boom – it happens.

  “I was wondering if you have Tourette’s syndrome,” She said, butting into my thoughts. “Has anyone ever discussed that diagnosis with you?”

  My ears perked up. I’d done the investigating. I knew the diagnosis was a possibility but I was pretty sure it didn’t fit me. I didn’t have any other tics, and it didn’t start when I was a little girl. My problem started when I was already a teenager.

  “Nothing? You have nothing to say? Well I’m really sorry I couldn’t help you while you were here. I don’t think you belong here, but you need to find someone who can help you. I’ve recommended your case to someone close to your home, and I’ve recommended to the court that you continue with therapy.

  “Great.” Once you’re in the system… well I was pretty sure it was going to be impossible for me to get out of the system.

  “You’re a lot more special than you think you are Sunny. And I really care.”

  There she blows. The tears started to well up in Dr. Perkins’ eyes. She was a nutcase taking care of a bunch of other nutcases, trying to get kids to confide in her about all the atrocities they experienced as children, probably because she didn’t get to experience them herself. She wasn’t going to understand evil and she would probably freak out if I told her I knew the exact moment evil came to rest in my heart.

  I was probably the only kid in that joint that hadn’t stepped outside since I was brought there. Every minute of my six months was spent inside of that building, while others took advantage of the beautiful grounds or a work program and other outings. I did my work in the kitchen, working my way up from the dishes to the grill. When I wasn’t working? I was reading, or trying to avoid my roommate – Claudia. Weird. It wasn’t until she helped me pack my few possessions that it hit me. Claudia had grown on me.

  Maybe it was because she never cried. Somewhere deep inside I loved it when she made fun of the ones that cried for their mothers. Claudia showed up at our haven for the way wards, just a week after me. A roommate was the last thing I required. Expressly this one - because she was in a band.

  The girl’s blonde hair was tipped with black and plum because it had grown out. The metal that used to be in her face left holes behind. The rules in the house were harsh for her and when her hair was long enough, the last of her identity was cut from it. Every night my roomy would transform into as much of what was real to her as she could, with makeup and black nail polish.

  “Stay true,” she said, as she helped me take my bags to the stoop out front. I nodded. Her words were meant for herself. She knew who she was. “Maybe you’ll see me in your nightmares,” she smiled.

  “Yeah.” I smiled in return, even though she brought up my nightmares. I couldn’t hide them from her.

  The fresh air and the sun hit me as my roomy walked away. When I saw the drumsticks in her back pocket, I remembered my band. Life felt irrepressible for an important instant, and I wanted to go back inside. My nightmares felt safer than this.

  “Sunny!” he yelled. Rick spotted me as I was turning to go back into the building, where I was sure it was easier to breath. “Here I am,” he yelled.

  The ride home was pretty quiet. Rick seemed as nervous as I was. Every once in a while he would look over at my leg bouncing up and down, causing me to stop abruptly.

  “Your hair is longer.” He smiled. He already knew this. The guy visited once a month.

  “Yours is shorter.” Once again, something we both knew. Claudia wanted to cut my hair so bad, but I wouldn’t let her. It was a longer version of what I had done to it before the fire.

  “Do you like my hair this length?” I asked. Instead of looking at him, I turned my head to look out the window, wishing I hadn’t brought attention to myself.

  “The length is great. It needs a little work. Nothing an appointment at
that spa you go to won’t fix. I don’t think Mack…” His words stopped short of what we all knew. Mack loved my long hair. The way it used to be. “Sorry Sunny. It just seems so natural to talk about him when I see you.”

  My head bobbed up and down as I turned it to look out the window again, at nothing. “Natural,” I whispered. Nothing seemed natural. I was sitting in the car of Mack’s best guy friend and we were driving me home from my incarceration for burning down a house and killing a living thing. When I looked back at Rick, the regret on his face looked so painful. “Hey thanks for coming to get me.”

  “Oh no problem. The guys can’t wait to see you Sunny.”

  “The guys,” I whispered again. A dead band was waiting to see me. I supposed they were expecting me to pick up the gauntlet or hand it over to one of them. “I’m surprised my parents let you come. My mom thinks the band was my downfall,” I said, changing the subject.

  “Yeah, they were completely cool with it.”

  “Mother, probably doesn’t want to be seen picking me up at prison.”

  Rick’s laugh was so sweet it made me smile. It was good to see him. The quiet one of the group. The faithful friend of my Mack, and the only friend I might have left. His face looked so fresh compared to the troubled youths I’d been living with. He still had a sparkle in his brown eyes and his blonde hair made them shine even more when he smiled. He was the right one to come get me, even though his scent reminded me of Mack. Maybe it was his scent that brought Mack only close enough for me not to crumble.

  My Mack was beautiful. He always smelled good, even if he wasn’t wearing cologne. People thought his hair was died black, but it was natural. He was a rare breed, like black horses. Next to the others in the band he looked pale, but it suited him and his deep blue eyes. I looked at Rick again, to get another sense of Mack. I liked the way Mack’s jet black hair would dangle over his eyes a little at an angle. His two front top teeth overlapped slightly, animating his charismatic smile.

  Rick’s voice passed through my thoughts of Mack, and finally got my attention. “Did you hear me? Let’s stop and get a milkshake. My treat.”