My Kind Of Crazy (6 page)

It’s been three hours since she disappeared, and I’m
beginning to wonder if she’s alright. It takes twenty minutes to get to town,
and it probably doesn’t take more than an hour to go over a Will. Anastasia is
approximately an hour and twenty minutes late getting home. What could she be
doing that would take her an hour and twenty minutes?

“She’s probably trying to dig up information on you.” Tom’s
voice rolls through me like a rumble of thunder.

“I thought I got rid of you with a pill.” I close my eyes so
that the visual hallucination cannot be seen. But my senses betray me and the
light behind my eyelids darkens for an instant as Tom passes in front of me.
This is worse than before. I can
feel
his breath on my face!

“A pill can’t get rid of me, Jonah. Not when you don’t want
me gone.” I grit my teeth and fumble around for the wooden, kitchen chair. My
hand grazes over it and I plop down in it with an audible thud. Relenting, I
open my eyes and Tom is nowhere to be seen. With a furrowed brow, I search the
entire kitchen with my gaze, and let out a relieved sigh when I don’t see him.

“I want you gone.” I whisper to no one. May trots through
the kitchen door with her tongue lolling out, and I take the hint. I turn the
thermostat down so that the house is cooler. Just as I’m turning around to ask
May if she needs to go out, the front door slams open, and a hurricane comes
blowing through the house.

Her blonde hair is still falling flawlessly around her face,
but her once calm, blue eyes are a sea of stormy rage. The way her lips are
clamped together makes me think that she’s trying to hold back some very frank
words. And the way her feet are held apart makes it look as though she’s ready
for a very tough fight. I immediately take a step back from Anastasia, and
wonder if I should ask her what is wrong. I get my answer soon enough.

“You!” She shouts that one word at me as if that will
explain everything, and then she’s advancing on me with her weapon, a finger. I
feel the first poke at my chest and scrunch up my muscles as I try to shy away
from her.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” I just get more
glaring looks, a few splutters, and then some more pokes in my arm. My instant
shock at her behavior has my guards falling down, and Tom appears in the
doorway behind her.

“It seems the Wicked Witch has returned!” Tom shouts with
his arms in the air. I try not to focus on the wicked smile across his face and
instead turn my gaze to Anastasia.

“Anastasia, tell me what’s wrong!” She’s about to poke me
one more time on the upper arm, and in self-defense I put my entire hand over
hers. I gently curl in her finger and grab the other fist when she raises it to
hit me. I’m not sure what I did, but apparently it was truly awful.

“You stole my father, you son of a bitch!” I blink a few
times, and then the worst thing of all comes out of Tom’s mouth.

“Don’t go calling our mother names!” I want to snort and
laugh at the same time, but now is not appropriate. Still, she must see the
glimmer in my eyes. Anastasia wrenches her fists out of my hands and points in
my face, hers nothing but a blaze of fury.

“This is not going to fly! I will take you to court over
this!” I still have no idea what she’s talking about, but nod anyway to appease
her. It’s not working, and Tom’s raucous laughter behind her is not helping me
get my head straight.

“Could you just sit down like a normal person and explain
this to me? I don’t know what the
hell
you’re talking about!” I didn’t
mean to shout, but the words tumbled out that way. The poor woman takes three
steps back from me, and I see tears starting to brim in her eyes. “Oh God,
don’t cry. I’m sorry. I’m not losing it. Okay, maybe I am a little, but if you could
just sit down and explain this to me, maybe we can fix it?” There, that’s
better. A lot less shouting and she’s squaring her shoulders as I knew she would.

Without another word or poke, Anastasia marches into the
kitchen with her clinking shoes and slams her purse onto the table. She sits
down in a kitchen chair, and when she doesn’t shout at me I sit down across
from her. I would ask her if she wants tea, but I think a hot beverage in her
hands right now is a bad idea. I like the flesh on my face.

“How could he do this to me? I mean, I’m his
daughter
!”
She’s not shouting anymore. It’s at a level I might call yelling. Then she says
in a lower volume, “I don’t even
know
you, and I’m supposed to
share
all of this?”

My flesh grows cold, and for a second I think that maybe I
should have left the thermostat where it was at. Then I glance down and see
that there are goose bumps all over my flesh, and it’s not the air that’s
caused this reaction. It’s the fact that she said the word ‘share’.

“What do you mean, share?” I’m not sure if it’s my thought
or Tom’s, but it pops out of my mouth on its own accord.

“My father left this entire property to the
both
of
us. The complications that arise from two parties owning a piece of property
like this are insane! I spent over an hour talking to the attorney to
understand this. If I decide to sell this place, you can either buy me out, or
we would have to go to court. That is if you didn’t want to sell, or vice
versa.” I try to derive from that statement whether she actually wants to sell
this place or not. But I don’t think that’s what she’s upset about. I think
it’s the thought that her father actually considered putting me in the Will in
the first place.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know about this.”
If looks could
kill
, I think to myself. “Look, if you want the property all to yourself,
I’ll just sign a document stating that it’s all yours. I swear.” It’s not
working. Maybe there’s nothing that I could say that would make her feel any
better, so I just keep my mouth shut.

“And you’ll just hand all the money that was left for you
back, too?” My mouth goes dry as I stare at her. I’m flattered her father
actually cared about me so much he would treat me as if I was one of his
children, but the fact is that I was not.

“Yeah, if you want it you can have it.” Tom sucks air
between his teeth behind me and I ignore it. This is the right thing to do.
None of this was supposed to be mine in the first place, and I should be
grateful that D’Salvatore let me stay here. Now I wonder if I’m going to have
to find a new home. I’m a big boy. I can do that. Anastasia seems to be
studying me as if she’s looking for deceit.

“No, he left it to you. I’m the one who should be giving
over my half of the property. But I’m not! Just so we get that straight. I just
want to know if we’re on agreement that the property is not going to be sold at
this point.” I nod once while I stare down at my hands on my thighs. If half of
this property is mine, then that means I can stay if I want. There’s no way
that she can kick me out, but if she asks me to leave then I will.

“So I guess it’ll take a few days for all the life insurance
policies to come through and some other mumbo jumbo. I wasn’t listening to much
of what that dwarf had to say.
Ugh
, you should have been there! You
could have flipped out on him, and it would have been alright, but not me. I
had to act like a polite, little woman on the prairie. It was
sickening
.”
She rants, and while she complains about the smell in the man’s office and the
way he treated her, I pour us both some coffee.

It takes her three sips to start calming down until she’s
finally more focused on the coffee rather than the stress of dealing with her
father’s Will. Maybe I should have insisted upon going along.

“You don’t know her, stop drooling!” Tom’s voice in my ear
actually makes me physically jump. The movement grabs Anastasia’s attention,
and she quirks an eyebrow at me.

“Random twitch.” I lie to her smoothly. At least I think I
do. A long silence blankets the two of us as we sip our coffee and stare at the
table, or the floor.

“You’re still planning to stay here tonight?” Her voice is completely
neutral, and I’m unable to tell if she actually wants me to stay or if she
wants me to leave.

“I am.” I try to keep my tone just like hers, but there’s
some force to it still. “I’m going to check on the barn and see if there’s
anything salvageable.” That should give me something to do. Anastasia doesn’t
argue with me and remains focused on her coffee.

It’s quickly becoming a sweltering Monday, and I’m hoping
that I can keep Tom at bay for the time being. My breath catches in my throat
when I see the wreckage from the night before. I bend down to pick up a charred
piece of wood, and it crumbles to ashes in my fingers. I don’t see one piece of
material that’s worth salvaging, but I start digging anyway. I need something
to keep me busy.

I’m not sure how long I’m out there digging through the
ashes when I hear a car hauling ass up the dirt driveway. Bits of rock and
clumps of clay fly out from the back tires, and I cringe when I recognize it. I
don’t have a weapon out here, but if I have to I’ll use fists. Mr. Taylor steps
out of his metallic colored Lexus and we lock gazes from about seventy five
feet away.

I know how I look right now. I’ve long taken my shirt off
and left it lying on the ground, so my arms and torso are covered in soot. My
injured hand is throbbing, and the bandage will need to be changed as soon as I
get into the house. I have one good hand, but if I must I’ll sacrifice comfort
to cause pain to this man’s face. After the incident yesterday, I thought he
wouldn’t come back. I guess I wasn’t clear enough.

“Mr. Taylor.” I call out his name loudly so that Anastasia
might hear it in the house, and then I hear the dog beginning to bark. The man
turns towards me with his hand raised, but the look on his face is anything but
amicable.

May’s barking cuts off suddenly, and my pulse quickens in my
veins. I crunch through the debris in my boots with a charred piece of wood in
my hands. It dangles and hits my leg as I walk, as if I’m not intending to use
it. But if Mr. Taylor thinks he’s going to lay his hands on Mr. D’Salvatore’s
daughter again, I’ll take his damned head off!

“Jonah Quinton, I’ve heard a lot about you.” He draws out
the words as if they’re somehow important. I quirk a smile at him, probably one
that looks sick and maddened, and it has the desired effect. Mr. Taylor takes a
step back from me, but as soon as Anastasia opens up the front door he turns
his full attention on her.

“Ana, darling! I wanted to swing by and tell you how sorry I
am about my behavior yesterday. Whatever happened to your barn?” He won’t look
at me, and I hear the condescension in his tone. I suspected he did it last
night, but now I’m ninety point nine percent sure this grease ball burnt down
the D’Salvatore barn. Is he the one who killed her father, too?

“Someone lit it on fire. But don’t worry, the police have a good
lead on who did it, and when they finally give me a name I’ll buy myself a can
of gasoline and torch their ass.” Even I’m a little shocked by her frank words,
but Mr. Taylor shakes it off quickly and smiles at her charmingly.

“I’m sure you will, Ana. Now, I have a proposition I would
like to discuss with you, would you mind if I came in for a spell?” My teeth
grit together painfully as I try to keep my mouth shut. Tom’s voice is echoing
through my mind, and what he has to say is not pretty.

“No, Mr. Taylor I want you to get back into your car, and
high tail it out of here before I call the police for trespassing. I’ve had
enough of your games. Go ahead. Tell the entire town what you know about me. I
guarantee you it’s nothing they haven’t guessed before.” She’s worried that the
town will find something out about her? I thought she’d be more worried about
the town figuring out
I
was still here.

“Now, Ana, that’s not what I’m implying at all here. I just
want to discuss the deal I had with your father, verbal agreements should be
treated just like any other agreement. Don’t you agree?” The indecision on her
face makes my gut twist.

“She can’t sell it without my approval first!” I butt into
the conversation as I close the distance between myself and the bottom steps of
the porch. I stand with my legs splayed apart and the piece of wood waiting in
my good hand. Mr. Taylor eyes the piece of wood with a look of disgust on his face
and turns his nose up.

“What in tarnation are you talking about, boy?” He spits the
word ‘boy’ out as if it’s supposed to mean something else, but just the fact
that he’s called me boy is condescending enough. The side of me I don’t like
other people to see starts to show through. Tom’s maniac grin plays across my
face as I look Mr. Taylor in the eyes and he seems to remember exactly who he’s
talking to.

“Mr. D’Salvatore left half of everything to me.” Anastasia
doesn’t say a word behind me, but I hear the way her breath is coming in short,
little gasps. The entire time she’s been afraid. My problem is I have no idea
if she’s afraid
of
Mr. Taylor or afraid
for
him.

“Well that’s wonderful news! I’ll pay you double the market
value for your share of the property.” My grin stays plastered on my face as I
take a step towards Mr. Taylor and point the charred end of the beam at him. It
might be charred, but it’s not flimsy enough to break on his face. So I’ll get
in a few good hits before I have to use my hands.

“Get off the property, Mr. Taylor. Or I’ll start with your
legs.” The man’s face grows paler than it already is, and I wonder if he ever
leaves his cozy office. Beads of sweat start to pop out on his forehead as he
looks from me to Anastasia. I feel the muscle in my jaw beginning to jump with
the effort of holding the darker side of me back.