The Good Neighbor (17 page)

I met Andy and Jill at the front door to keep
them from ringing the doorbell and waking the kids. The worry was
evident on each of their faces. Unfortunately, what I had to tell
them was only going to make it worse.

They came in and I quickly closed and locked
the door behind them.

“What’s going on, Owen,” Jill asked. She
leaned against Andy, ringing her hands together out of
nervousness.

In little more than a whisper, I said, “Carla
and the kids stayed the night here tonight. I slipped out after
Carla fell asleep and went down to her house to clean up the mess
Bernie left. While I was gone,” I swallowed, trying to make this
easier to say, but failing miserably. “Bernie came in and
he...raped Carla.” I hoped they didn’t hear the crack in my
voice.

Jill gasped and clasped her hands over her
mouth. Andy’s jaw clenched tightly.

“I came in just after it happened. I heard a
sound and ran upstairs. Carla had knocked him out with a lamp. When
he awoke, we fought.” I moved my hand from side, checking to see
how much blood I was losing.

“Oh my god!” Jill whispered loudly. She
rushed over to me to inspect the wound. “You need to get that
looked at.”

“I will. But right now, I need you to go up
and talk to Carla. She pulled away from me. I don’t know what to do
to help her.” I didn’t need to say how horrible I felt that I’d
left her alone and vulnerable. Jill already knew. She knew me as
well as Andy did, and she could read my face and see the remorse.
Of course, a total stranger could’ve probably seen the same thing
on my face tonight. I felt miserable and guilty and was unable to
hide it.

“Of course,” she said quickly. I told her
Carla was in the shower and she ran upstairs quietly.

Andy’s fists were clenched by his sides. He
looked nearly as angry as I did. “What are we going to do?” he
asked. “To Bernie, I mean.” I didn’t know if it was my imagination,
but I detected a harder tone to his voice now.

I shook my head. “I don’t know yet. But Jill
was right. I’ve got to get this taken care of first, but then the
son of a bitch will pay for what he’s done.”

“Damn right, he will,” Andy added with every
bit as much anger in his voice as I had in mine. And I didn’t have
to wonder whether I’d imagined it this time.

As Andy drove me to the hospital, he asked a
few questions about what had taken place at my house. I answered as
many of them as I could. With each answer I gave, his hands
clutched the steering wheel tighter, until his knuckles were
white.

When he ran out of questions, we finished the
ride in silence, both of us hoping that Bernie wouldn’t return to
my house. The women and children were alone.

I applied as much pressure as I could to my
stab wound to minimize the bleeding. In fact, I applied a little
more than necessary as a punishment for allowing this to happen. I
wouldn’t tell Andy how responsible I felt, but I was sure he knew.
He would tell me that it was crazy to think I could’ve prevented
the night’s events, but he’d never be able to convince me. If I’d
only stayed in bed with her, none of this would’ve happened. Maybe
if I’d been sterner with Bernie the morning he tried to push past
Carla and get into her house, everything would be fine now. And
maybe, if I’d done more when he had broken into the house and
violated Carla, this would’ve been just another uneventful
night.

But I hadn’t done any of those things. And
now Carla was paying.

I fought a wave of nausea as Andy pulled into
the hospital parking lot. I was looking forward to getting this
over with and getting back to Carla. I’d failed her once tonight. I
wanted to be there for her now.

Though it felt like an eternity, it only took
a little more than an hour to get stitched up and out of the
hospital. Luckily for me, Bernie’s bad aim failed to reach any
vital organs. A few stitches and a lie about a barroom brawl later,
we were on our way home.

We rode in silence, neither of saying what we
were thinking. Though it was unspoken, I knew we were both
considering ways to deal with Bernie. Of course, ‘we’ wasn’t really
an issue. I didn’t want to involve Andy. It wasn’t his fight. He
hadn’t failed Carla; I had. Now I had to make it right. I also knew
that Andy wouldn’t accept that. He’d be right by side, as usual. My
fight would be his.

Andy turned onto Hewitt Street and I couldn’t
take my eyes off Bernie’s house. I saw no signs of life, but I knew
he was in there. He was in there, and he was surely gloating about
having raped Carla and stabbed me. I could almost see him sitting
in there, laughing.

I was going to beat the laugh out of him.

I noticed Andy staring as well. I knew we
were on the same wavelength.

I unlocked the door and we went quietly into
the house. I checked on Ethan and Shelby, who remained blissfully
unaware of anything. I envied their ability to sleep. Seeing them
in slumber was a painful reminder of the lack of sleep I’d
experienced in the last couple of days. The night’s events had
given me a surge of adrenaline that had aided me in remaining
awake, but it was fading now, and sleep wanted to take over.

We went upstairs, where Jill had managed to
get Carla dried and dressed in our absence. The two were in my
bedroom, where Jill sat perched on the side of the bed, which I saw
had fresh linens. Carla sat in a chair across the room. Her knees
were drawn up to her chest, and her arms wrapped around them
tightly.

I walked into the room without taking my eyes
off her. I wanted to go to her and squeeze her to me, but I didn’t
want to make things worse for her.

I looked to Jill for a sign. She nodded
slowly. I took this to mean that she had made more progress than I
had earlier. I took a step toward Carla, putting no more than a
single step’s distance between us now. I waited.

With as much tenderness as I had in me, I
said, “Carla.”

Slowly, she lifted her head and met my eyes.
In a move that couldn’t possibly have been any more unexpected, she
jumped up from the chair and threw her arms around my neck. She
squeezed me as tightly as I had wanted to squeeze her. I
immediately returned her embrace, fighting back tears as I did.

It was at that moment, that exact moment in
time, that I realized I loved her. It surprised me to have such
strong feelings for her, having known her such a short time. Of
course, in that short time, we’d been through a lot.

I leaned my head down and whispered into her
ear, “Are you okay?” I knew it was a stupid question, but better
ones escaped me.

She nodded and pulled back so she could look
into my eyes again. “I’m fine now,” she said, and hugged me again.
I knew she meant she was fine now that I was with her. Even though
I felt this had all been my fault, she clearly didn’t see it that
way. She saw me as the good amidst the bad. I was her
protector.

Andy asked if Jill had called the police. The
reaction from Carla as he asked that simple, obvious question was
one none of us suspected.

She nearly screamed, “No! No police.
Absolutely not.”

I exchanged a quick glance at Andy, both of
us puzzled. I didn’t want to anger her at such a time, but I had to
know why she refused to call the police.

“Carla, why not? Bernie has to pay for this.”
I said this in a calm and soothing tone. I didn’t want her to feel
as if I were pressuring her in any way. I didn’t want to cause her
more stress than what I already had.

She sighed deeply. “When I was ten, a man
broke into our house and raped my mother. She called the police
after he left, even though he told her not to. They arrested him a
few days later. He never did time, though. He was let go on a
technicality. He came back. He killed my mother because she had
told on him. I won’t put my kids through that. They won’t grow up
without their mother the way I did.”

None of us said anything. We knew then that
neither of the four of us would call the police.

I felt the change in me. I knew I’d have to
deal with Bernie. I had to rid her of this threat, this problem
that lived next door to her. I couldn’t possibly expect her to live
beside him without fear.

I would take care of her at any cost.

I watched the room spin as I lay on the bed.
The ceiling was nearly out of control. It might have not been such
a good idea to drink so much. Especially since that damn Owen would
probably be coming. They hadn’t called the cops, for whatever
reason, so I had no doubt that he’d come over here and start
something. He’d want revenge for what I’d done to the broad. He
didn’t realize that I’d only done what she’d asked me to do. She
hadn’t asked with words, but actions. And everybody knows what they
say about actions; they speak louder than words.

I smiled and closed my eyes as I remembered
creeping up the stairs and sneaking in the room where she lay,
naked, sleeping, waiting for me. I relived every moment, every
detail. I’d never forget the way she looked in the dark, or the way
her skin felt as I crushed it between my teeth, or the way it felt
to be inside her.

I didn’t realize I was jacking off until I
felt the warm mess on my hand as I finished.

I opened my eyes and laughed. That was almost
as good as when it had really happened. I wiped the gunk on the wad
of blanket lying beside me. Who cares?

I was glad that I could experience it over
and over, because I doubted that I’d ever get another chance to do
her. Even though I knew she wanted me to sneak over there and do
her every night. I was sure Owen knew it too. I was also sure he’d
do everything he could to keep me from satisfying her. He was
jealous. He knew she wanted me and that made him jealous.

I lay there with my eyes closed to avoid
watching the spinning room, and wondered what that damn Owen had up
his sleeve. It had to be something. I didn’t know why they hadn’t
called the cops. I imagined her begging him not to because – though
she’d never say it to him – she’d wanted it. Whatever the reason,
they hadn’t. That led me to believe Owen had a plan.

I imagined him sneaking over here in the
night, slipping into my house and trying to catch me by surprise.
The surprise would be on him, though, when he realized that while
he was here trying to catch me, I was at his house giving it to the
broad again.

The thought of having another chance at her
gave me yet another hard-on. To take care of it, I closed my eyes
and imagined creeping back up those stairs again.

The women were upstairs. Owen and I had gone
to the kitchen under the pretense of needing a drink. What we’d
really needed was a moment to ourselves to talk about what to do
about that bastard Bernie.

I wasn’t sure how to handle this situation,
and I knew Owen wasn’t either. What I did know, was that if it had
been Jill he’d done these things to, I’d be throwing the dirt over
his limp body right now.

Even though it hadn’t been my wife, it felt
almost as bad. It was Owen’s girlfriend, and he was like my
brother. I felt the pain it caused him and what hurt him, hurt
me.

I leaned against the kitchen counter with my
arms folded across my chest. Owen sat at the table, looking
exhausted, with his head in his hands. There were a couple of times
when I thought he was crying, but I was never really sure.

“Maybe we should talk about this more after
you’ve had some rest,” I suggested.

“I just don’t know what to do, Andy. I have
to do something.” He sighed heavily.

“Well, I’ll tell you this. The son of a bitch
will pay for what he’s done. What we have to do is figure out what
we’re going to do to him and when. That’s it.”

Owen nodded slowly. “You’re right. Let’s get
something figured out.”

I sat down at the table with him and we began
a conversation that lasted until after dawn. In the end, we had
what could only be described as a rudimentary plan. It was basic
and unsophisticated at best. Basically, we’d just talked about what
we wanted to do to him and what we should do to him. In the end, we
sort of just threw it all together.

I walked away unsure of how much of it would
really be done. We were both angry and tired. In a well-rested and
less emotional state, would we see things the same way? Bernie had
to be punished. There was no doubt about that. But were capable of
being the kind of monster he was?

Only time would tell.

I sat at the kitchen table sipping a glass of
milk and nibbling on some buttered toast. I was trying to work with
my stomach instead of against it. Andy on the other hand was really
putting away a bowl of oatmeal, saturated with sugar, butter,
cinnamon and cream. I tried to not look at it or smell it, or even
think about it. I just wanted to keep down the toast. So far, so
good.

He hadn’t told me what he and Owen had talked
about in the wee hours of the morning, and I wasn’t sure I wanted
to know. I was sure the conversation had centered on Bernie and his
misdeeds.

I wanted desperately to talk to him, as I
still hadn’t had the chance. There had been so much going on
lately, there just never seemed to be an appropriate moment.

I watched him rinse his now-empty bowl in
Owen’s sink before checking on Ethan and Shelby, who were playing
in the back yard. When he returned, he took his seat at the table
once more and sighed.

“This is just awful,” he said, resting his
elbow on the table and his head on his hand. “If that would’ve been
you...I don’t know what I would’ve done. I can’t imagine what he’s
going through.”

“What about her? I mean, she has to live next
door to that creep. I couldn’t do it. I don’t know how she’s going
to do it.”