In One Fell Swoop, page 8
I drove up the long driveway leading to the house. It was the only house for miles and was hidden by the many trees. It wasn't till I came really close that I spotted it. It was a sweet little house, quite quaint.
I parked in front of it and walked up, then rang the doorbell. The door opened swiftly and Pete looked at me, his expression one of great surprise.
"Patty?"
"Hello, Pete."
He stared at me, looked into my eyes, and I felt a little uncomfortable. He looked like he wanted to smile, but decided to sigh deeply instead. "What do you want? I’m actually quite busy."
"I bet you are," I said, as I pushed him aside and walked right in. I wasn't going to wait for an invitation that wasn't going to come.
Pete protested. "You can't just…"
But I was already inside. He grunted something, then closed the door and followed me into the living room. As expected, the place was packed with plants and microscopes, books, you know, scientist stuff.
Pete sighed. "What do you want?"
"You know something," I said. "You are here for a reason and I want to know why."
He exhaled. "Patty…"
"No. no. Don't Patty me. I don't want to hear your excuses. I want to know what is going on. The swamps are sighing at night, the trees are swallowing houses, my grandson…" I paused and took in a deep breath to not let myself get overwhelmed with emotion. I missed the boy terribly and it pained me to see my daughter in this agony, "…is missing somewhere in the swamps, which are now guarded by the military. By the darn military! What the heck is going on here, Pete?"
Pete looked serious. "Your grandson? He’s one of the missing campers?"
"Yes, yes, he is and we don't know anything. Please help me understand. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that something major is up around here."
Pete scratched his head. He hadn't shaved in several days and it made him look raw and outdoorsy. Just the way I liked him best.
"I…I am…first of all, I am so so sorry that your grandson is among the missing…"
"Well, thank you. And second of all?"
"I can't help you."
"You what?"
"Listen to me. I fully understand you want answers, but I am not the guy to get them from. I can't. I’m sorry. I don't know anything."
I stared at him, looked into his eyes. He was sorry, all right, but he wasn't telling the truth. Not all of it. If being a mother and grandmother had taught me anything, it was to detect when someone was lying or even just withholding the truth from me.
"I don't believe you," I said and sat down in his leather chair. "And I’m not leaving till you tell me the truth."
Chapter 29
"Dad, I’m so scared!"
Sam was crying while fighting to keep his head out of the trap. They had both been stuck in there for two days since he woke up, and he felt desperate, hungry, and so, so thirsty. Luckily, it had rained the night before and water had come inside the trap, filling the bottom. Sam had slurped it in, drunken it all, but now that it was daytime again, the sun was baking hard on him inside that thing, and the thirst was back.
"Me too, son, me too. I can't move. The tentacles have this sticky stuff on them. What are these things anyway?"
"They're flesh-eating plants," Sam yelled. He stopped crying and focused on what his dad had asked. "Yours is a Cape Sundew, mine a Venus Flytrap. I saw this documentary about them once. They don't usually get this big, at least not the ones they showed on TV."
"Uh-huh, and what else did this TV show tell you?" His dad asked, his voice trembling.
"Yours uses the tentacles to trap its prey. It has this sticky substance on them, like glue. Then when the prey can't move, the leaves roll lengthwise towards the center and sort of wraps itself around it, suffocating it, holding it still so it can digest it. It absorbs the victim's nutrients over time, a real long time."
Sam's dad was quiet for a little while, then asked, "Uh-huh, I see. And how about yours?"
"Well, the Venus Flytrap also uses the sticky mucilage to keep its prey from running off, but it has this trap—as the name implies—that shuts closed within one second after the prey gets in contact with the small hairs on the inside. Once the trap closes it is later sealed, so the prey can't escape. It stays in there while the plant absorbs it. For a small normal plant, it takes up to twenty days to digest a fly. At least, that was what they said in the show."
"But yours isn't sealed?" his dad said. "Not like the others I can see."
Sam lifted himself up high enough to be able to look around once again. Many of the flytraps surrounding him were sealed completely shut. Nothing would be able to come in or out. No water, no sunlight. But his wasn't? In the show, they had said it took the trap one second to shut and fifteen minutes to seal. He had been inside his for days. Did this mean it wasn't going to seal? Was that why he was still alive?
"You're right," he said. "It is shut, but not sealed. Maybe there’s something wrong with this one?"
Sam's dad grunted in pain. Sam looked down and watched the Cape Sundew tighten its grip on him.
"I-I-I don't know how much longer I can stay alive," he said, half-choked. "It keeps tightening around me and I can…hardly breathe anymore."
Sam whimpered. His dad's face was turning purple. "Dad. You can't die. Please, don't leave me here."
"I-I-I'm afraid I don't have m-m-much of a choice," he said with great strain. "This thing is d-d-determined to kill me."
"Please, Dad, I can't…you can't, please don't die."
"I-I-I'm sorry, son. For everything. F-f-f-or not being there," he stuttered, gasping for breath.
Sam's heart was racing. He was crying hard now, still holding onto the spikes at the end of his trap, barely holding himself up.
"Please, Dad. It wasn't your fault. Mommy kept me from you. You were right. She never wanted me to see you. I asked and asked, but she didn't want me to. She told me you didn't want to see me."
"That's not t-t-true! I wanted to, son. You must know it. I wanted to be there for you, but she wouldn't let me. I even asked her to marry me when she found out she was pregnant. I wanted you. I wanted us to be a f-f-f…amily." As he spoke, the plant tightened its grip once more, and Sam screamed.
"NOOO!"
While crying, desperately pleading for the plant to spare his dad's life, Sam remembered something. There had been something on the show about a beetle. A small black beetle.
It escaped the Venus Trap, not just once, but twice. How was it again? Oh, yeah, it chewed its way out of the sides of the trap.
"Dad, I remember something. I remember something from the show, about a beetle and how it escaped, Dad, I…"
Sam stopped himself. His dad was no longer responding.
"DAD?"
Overwhelmed by hopelessness, Sam let go of the spikes and slid down into his trap. As he did, he sensed the sides of the trap were suddenly moving, vibrating like it had somehow realized it had someone trapped in there.
Oh, my God. It's going to seal, isn't it? Oh, my dear God!
Desperately, Sam tried to climb up once again, but the sticky mucilage made it so hard to move and, as he fought the gluey mass, the light suddenly disappeared and he couldn't see anything anymore, only feel the slimy sides. The air already felt thicker and it was hard for him to breathe. Sam gasped for air, while hitting the plant from the inside, hitting the walls, but only with the result of him getting even more wrapped in the gluey slime. He could hardly move anymore and, crying, he leaned his forehead against the slimy wall, then sunk his teeth into the flesh of the plant.
Chapter 30
"Suit yourself."
Pete said the words with a shrug, then left me sitting in his living room. I was baffled. I had thought he would at least try and throw me out, or maybe give in. One of the two, but indifference? I hadn't expected that.
"Is that all you’re going to say?" I asked when he came back. He seemed to be looking for something, then opened a drawer and pulled something out, then left me alone again.
"Hello?"
I growled deliberately loud to make sure he could hear me. I can't believe him. He is even more annoying than I remember him.
I was determined to stay put, no matter what. I was going to get some answers. No matter what.
Pete returned, grabbed a book from a dresser with a "there it is," then turned around and left me again before I could say anything.
I remained calm. I knew what he was doing. Trying to be all busy and not notice me. But he wasn't going to get to me. Nope. Wasn't going to let him. I could sit there all day if I had to.
"I’m still here," I sang. "I'm not leaving."
Pete poked his head out of the room next door. He didn't seem to be looking at me. "What was that?"
"I just said I’m still here."
"Oh, yes, of course…toothbrush," he said, holding his pointer finger up high in the air.
"Toothbrush?" I asked. "Is that your new nickname for me? 'Cause I could easily come up with a better one."
Pete ignored my remark. I wondered how long he was going to keep this up. He disappeared again. I looked around his small house. It didn't have much furniture and everything was in serious need of updating. The wooden floors were old and looked worn. The place was dirty too and needed a good cleaning. There obviously wasn't a Mrs. Pete.
"Say, how long have you been staying here?" I asked and ran a finger across a dresser next to me. The finger turned black. I wrinkled my nose while mumbling to myself. "How can you live like this?"
Pete returned. He still tried to make me feel ignored by looking all busy and distracted. But I wasn't falling for it. It was nothing but a trick. Two could easily play that game.
"So, how long are you staying in town? Not that you're actually in town, since you made sure to stay right outside, but figuratively speaking?"
Pete didn't answer. He walked to a pile of books, then grabbed some strange instrument from behind them with the first smile I had seen on his face since I entered his house.
"Aha," he said. "I knew you were here somewhere." He placed the thing in a bag and closed it.
I smiled at his bad acting skills. "I ain't going nowhere," I repeated. "You do realize that, don't you? You can ignore me all you want to."
Pete looked up. "What's that? Huh." He looked like he suddenly remembered something, and then disappeared again.
I was starting to get quite annoyed with his little game. Maybe it was working after all.
"Now Love Bug, there’s a cute nickname. I always wanted to meet a man who called me that. Not some stupid name like Honey Bunny or Baby Doll, I never liked those. They're almost demeaning if you ask me. My Queen. I would love to be called My Queen. It has a nice ring to it."
Pete returned to the living room, sunglasses in one hand, backpack in the other. "What was that?" he asked again.
I shook my head. "Nothing. I was just talking about nicknames—say, are you going somewhere?"
Pete looked at his watch and took a few steps while swinging the backpack over his shoulder. Then he spotted me, looking surprised. His acting skills weren't going to get him an award anytime soon, that was certain.
"What? Are you still here?" he said.
I rolled my eyes. "Yes! Dang it. I’m still here. Could you please just tell me what's going on?"
He mumbled something to himself, walked to the front door, and grabbed the handle. "Could you not turn the lights out when you go? The Philodendron Bipinnatifidum needs it. Oh, yeah, and lock the door, please. There is a key behind the Petunia Exserta outside. Stay as long as you want. Thanks."
"But…but…"
I got up from the chair and stormed after him as he rushed outside. I stopped on the porch and watched him hurry to his car, open the back, and throw his backpack in with a thud.
"Pete!"
"I'm sorry," he said while closing the door. He smiled at me. "It wasn't actually that bad to see you again. Not as bad as I had feared at least. I mean…it was actually good to see you again, Patty. You look well. Beautiful, as always. Now, if you'll excuse me…"
That was when I had enough. "Oh, no, you don't," I yelled and ran to the car. Before he could react, I had opened the door to the passenger seat and thrown myself in. I locked the door.
"Patty!" he said from the outside.
"I am sorry, Pete, but I want answers. I won't leave here till I have some."
Pete growled, frustrated, then went to the driver's seat, unlocked it and peeked inside. "Get out, Patty. I’m in a hurry."
"Well then, hurry up and tell me what I need to know. What's going on around here? Where is my grandson and why is the military out in the swamps?"
He grunted angrily. "I can't tell you anything because I don't know anything, okay? I don't know what's going on; I don't know where your grandson is. There. That's the truth, now get out of my car so I can get going."
I crossed my arms over my chest and then shook my head. "Nope. I ain't going nowhere till you tell me everything you know."
Pete growled, annoyed, and stomped his feet. I was still shaking my head in defiance when he said:
"All right. Suit yourself," then jumped in the car, slammed the door shut, put the key in the ignition, and started it.
Chapter 31
"Eat your sandwich."
Billy Bob pushed the plate closer to Emily. She looked at it, then shook her head. "I'm not hungry."
"You have to eat, baby," he pleaded.
Since the incident that ended with her mother dying, Emily hadn't been eating or sleeping much. She cried all night and sulked during the day. Billy Bob had no idea how to deal with her and what she was going through. Mostly because he was feeling awful himself. He loved Darlene. He loved her a lot. Yes, she was a pain in the butt every now and then and she sure made some bad decisions, but she was his. And she was the mother of his child. What was he going to do now? How was he supposed to go on without her? How was he supposed to take care of a teenage girl? He had no idea what it was like to be thirteen and a girl. He could say a lot about being a thirteen-year-old boy, but that really didn't help him much now, did it?
"Come on, Emily, just a few bites. I'll have you know I paid a lot of money for that sandwich. You better eat it, you hear me?"
The girl finally gave in. She grabbed the ham sandwich and took a bite. She chewed, her hands crossed in front of her chest, sulking in his direction.
"Now what?" she asked as she swallowed the bite.
"Now you take another bite," he said.
"No, you idiot, I meant now what are we going to do?"
"Well…let me check on the car. Wait here."
"Where would I go?"
Billy got up, went outside on the porch of the diner, and called the auto shop. The guy there, Kerry, told him the car needed more work and that he wouldn't be able to get it for several days.
"Are you freaking kidding me?" he said and hung up with a growl. It was like this town was trying to keep him there. Why couldn't he be allowed to leave?
I'll steal a car, he thought and looked out at the parking lot. Yes, that was the solution. They couldn't wait any longer, could they? But he didn't want Emily to know. Not until he had stolen it and she couldn't say anything. He would tell her he rented one or something like that.
"We'll have a car by tomorrow, they say," he said as he returned. "Then we'll be out of here and go somewhere else."
She scoffed. "Like where?"
Billy had no answer. He had been thinking about it for a very long time, at least that's how it felt because he hadn't reached a conclusion just yet.
"I have a cousin in Tampa. Maybe we should go there. What do you say?" he asked.
She shrugged, then took another bite of her sandwich. "Do you know him? Will it be better than here?"
"You still like it here?" he asked and drank his coffee. This was a surprise to him. He had thought she wanted to get out of this town as fast as possible. "Even after all that has happened?"
She shrugged again. "I don't know. Kind of."
Billy looked out the window of the diner. He didn't really know what it was about this town, but he liked it here too, kind of. He was upset about what had happened to Darlene and angry at that stupid tree. It scared the heck out of him even thinking about it, and so far he had received no answers. None that he believed to be true. On TV, they said stuff like it was from climate change, or something, like global warming made the trees grow faster; others said it must have been a pesticide in the water that had made it sick, but Billy didn't buy any of it. Something else was going on with that tree. Something that made him want to run away from this town, screaming.
But, then again, there was that nice family that had taken good care of him, the good Miss Patty and her daughters. Miss Patty had been checking in on them every day, making sure they had what they needed, and that Billy's leg was healing properly. They weren't half bad. As a matter of fact, he kind of liked one of them. The tall and tight one. The one that looked like an accountant. She wasn't his usual type and she was far from interested in him, had hardly even spoken a word to him at all while they were at Miss Patty's house, but still, he couldn't stop thinking about her. There was something about her that grabbed him and made him want to stay. Emily had spent some time with that Julia too and it seemed like they somehow were able to comfort each other.
"All right," he said. "Let's vote. All of those who want to stay in Webster—the town that has a two-foot rooster statue as its main attraction and that got its name from the cover of a dictionary—please raise their hands."
Emily looked a little annoyed but still raised her hand. Billy raised his as well. "Guess that’s settled, then. We'll stay. At least for a little longer. We're not in any rush."
Finally, a smile spread across Emily's face.
"Thanks, Dad."
