A Child is Torn: Innocence Lost (19 page)

It took a little convincing, but we got him to go to the nurse’s station to be checked out. The promise of ice cream seemed to seal the deal. I felt relieved that it seemed he was more scared than hurt. But once again, I was back at square one with Brad.

As I got ready to leave for the evening, I decided to check on Brad before I left. Cindy was in the room observing, and I nodded to her. Brad was snoring softly; he’d been asleep most of the day. I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for leaving, but I knew the therapist on the evening shift was capable of handling any situation that arose; he was well acquainted with Brad and his history. I was torn, but I had plans to have dinner with Marty and his father at their house. The Captain had been bragging about his lasagna and I’d been looking forward to this evening for a long time.

As I turned to walk away from his bed, I felt his hand reach out to me. He grabbed my pinky. His lids were barely open, but I could see his eyes following my movement. His skin was ashen against the white sheets.

“Please, Dr. Hope. Make me stop.” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

“Brad, can you tell me what happened?” I grabbed a chair, and sat next to the bed. I pushed the blond bangs covering his eyes away from his face. He shook his head.

“Brad.” I squeezed his hand. “Brad, does anyone tell you to hurt people?”

I considered that perhaps he was suffering from delusions. Perhaps he was a paranoid schizophrenic. It had occurred to me before, but I’d never actually come out and asked him if he heard voices compelling him to do things.

“No.” He shook his head. “I just want to stop. I hurt my mom and dad. I hurt them bad, and I miss them. I don’t know why I do it, but I can’t stop. Please help me stop. I like Scottie.”

He started to cry, and then he fell back onto the pillow. Within minutes he was asleep again. Cindy glanced up at me, tears in her eyes. This child had captured her heart as well.

“Call me if you need me,” I said softly.

She nodded a reply, and I walked out quietly, shutting the door behind me.

Snow was beginning to fall. Normally I wouldn’t pay the road conditions any mind, but tonight I took extra care. My life had started to have some meaning. I was no longer just in a rut of going to work, coming home, and watching TV. Every once in a while I was even able to tolerate my mother’s craziness. She seemed almost gleeful that Marty was becoming part of my life. A few times she even hinted she wouldn’t mind going on a double date with Marty, the Captain, and me. The thought horrified me.

I pulled up to Marty’s house. I grabbed the bottle of wine I bought the day before, and paused to check the rearview mirror before I left the car. I hadn’t realized the incident with Brad had brought tears to my eyes, and my eye makeup was smudged. I grabbed a tissue and wiped away the black stain. Satisfied, I got out of the car and walked down the path to Marty’s house.

I heard Christmas music in the background as the Captain opened the door. His smile was welcoming and his blue eyes twinkled in the dim light.

“Ah, my favorite doctor.” He leaned over to kiss my cheek. If I had the slightest doubt I was falling in love with Marty, there was no doubt in my mind I’d already fallen for his father. I don’t know what it was about the man, but his presence just gave me a strong sense of contentment. I felt a feeling of security and warmth that I hadn’t felt since my own father passed away.

Seeing the tension in my face, he asked, “Are you okay, Hope? What’s wrong?” Before long Marty came and joined us in the vestibule.

“Hey, babe.” I handed him the bottle of wine. Marty took his cue from his dad’s expression. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Come on in, Hope.” The Captain took my arm. “Come sit down in the den. We have a fire going, it’s nice and cozy. I’ll pour you some of this spirit-lifter you brought us.” He took the bottle from Marty, gave him some sort of unspoken order, and then walked out of the room. I made myself comfortable on the sofa and Marty joined me. The fire felt good. I was starting to relax.

“It’s Brad,” I told him as I watched the flames dancing in the fireplace. “We had another episode; he lashed out at Scottie. He looked like he wanted to kill him, Marty. If Gabby hadn’t pulled him off… God, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

I looked at him, hoping he would have an answer. I looked at him like Brad had looked at me, begging me for help.

He didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to. He knew that all I needed was to be held. I don’t know why, but I broke down. All my frustrations and feelings of failure were coming out. I was just about finished crying and getting Marty’s neck wet from all my tears, when the Captain returned.

“Feeling better?” He sat down on the other side of me, and then handed me a glass of the red wine. “I got some damn good lasagna just waiting to be eaten. How about we put some meat on those birdlike bones of yours?”

Pasta was my favorite comfort food. I took a sip of the wine, as I followed them into the kitchen with Marty holding my hand.

The first half hour was monopolized by talk of Brad and what had occurred that evening. Up until that night, Marty and I hadn’t really discussed the gory details of what he had found at Brad’s house that fateful morning, but I was hungry for any information I could get now. The smallest new detail, I was convinced, might help me solve the mystery.

The Captain brought me another serving of lasagna. He too was mesmerized as Marty told us what he found at the Madison’s home; Brad sitting in front of the television playing a video game, while his parents lay dead upstairs. It was the first time Marty had talked about it with his father.

“There’s absolutely no evidence this child was abused? Mentally, physically?” the captain asked me.

I shook my head. “None. I think Detective Whitley has run that theory into the ground. She swears she and Moran have explored every option imaginable. She looked into the uncle’s background, the teachers, everybody or anybody that ever came in contact with the boy. I think she even checked the mailman. Nothing.”

Marty was nervously tapping his fingers on the table “Marty, will you stop that? You’re making me crazy.”

“Sorry, Pop; it helps me think.” He put his hands in his lap.

I saw the Captain look up. He crossed himself and mumbled something under his breath. It sounded like, “Thanks a bunch, Sean,” but I wasn’t sure.

The Captain turned his attention to me. “How about dessert in the den?” He looked at his watch. “Football game starts in an hour. Marty and I have some money on it. Care to get in on the action?”

“I’ll put my money on your team, Captain.”

“Hey!” Marty cried, pretending to be offended.

“Never argue with experience, Marty,” I commented as we went into the den.

I stopped to examine the photos lining the far wall. Pausing at each one, I asked them about the people in the pictures. I giggled when I stopped at what must have been a toothless Marty and his twin, Tommy.

“Which one is which?” I asked over my shoulder.

“I’m the better looking one.”

I rolled my eyes.

“What?” he said in a defensive tone.

“You’re identical. I mean, how does anyone tell you apart?”

“I don’t know how, but the Captain and Mary always knew. We were able to fool just about everyone else. But those two, they kept it their secret. They never would tell us.”

The next picture showed the Captain in army fatigues.

“Your dad, he’s very handsome here. He looks just like you.”

Marty walked over and used the cuff of his sleeve to wipe away a smudge on the glass.

“Actually, that’s not my dad. It’s my Uncle Sean, my dad’s twin.”

“Your father has an identical twin too? I turned to ask Marty as the Captain entered the room.

I turned to his dad. “Are you two close?”

“Unfortunately, Sean died long before Marty was born,” the Captain replied. “He was killed in action. Most of my kids never met him.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Captain.”

“No, it’s okay.” He gave her a wide smile. “I’ll tell you what though. Sometimes the way Marty acts, the things he does… It’s as if Sean was Marty’s twin, not Tommy. Those two …” He trailed off, seemingly lost in thought.

Marty handed me another glass of wine. Thanking him, I sat down, sinking into the well-used sofa.

I must have fallen asleep before the end of the first quarter, because the next thing I knew I woke up and I saw the lights on the DVD player blinking 1:00 a.m., covering me was a down blanket. The fire had died down and every few seconds I could hear the crackle of a flame fighting to stay alive.

To my left, Marty was fast asleep in the brown leather lounge chair. One leg lay over the side of the chair, the other dangled over the front. His arm was bent and his hand was holding his head upright. He looked sweet and vulnerable—all six feet, three inches of him.

I got off the couch, and quietly approached his chair. Leaning over I softly kissed his mouth. To my surprise, his hand reached over and gently grabbed the back of my neck. I landed in his lap and returned his kiss, this time with a lot more intensity.

“I thought you were asleep,” I whispered when we finally came up for air.

“I was, but I couldn’t resist.”

I slowly ran my finger down his nose. It was perfect, not an imperfection marked his beautiful face. I couldn’t get over the fact that he seemed to want me as much as I wanted him.

“It’s late. I better head home.” I started to rise. His hand held me tight; he didn’t let go.

“Stay, please,” he said softly, his eyes pleading.

“Marty, your dad…”

His hand dropped to his side. He wasn’t going to push it. It had to be my decision.

“My dad knows I’m not a virgin, Hope. And sorry to disappoint you, but I think he knows you’re not one either,” he said, winking. He got up from the chair and held out his hand. I hesitated for a second, and then took it. I think it was at that moment that I decided that I didn’t need to get myself a cat.

Marty

Marty opened his eyes, hoping it hadn’t been his imagination. Then he felt her hair touching his chest. He leaned in, softly touching his lips to her hair. Hope started to stir.

“Good morning,” she quietly said. She covered her mouth as she spoke.

“No, you don’t have morning breath,” he reassured her, giving her one more kiss, this time on the cheek. He pulled the blanket aside, throwing his legs over the side of his bed with his naked back facing her. Grabbing a pair of boxers, he raised himself off the bed, and tugged them on.

Hope watched in silence. He didn’t have an ounce of body fat, and though it was already the beginning of winter, he still had a dark tan.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“7:38,” he replied, glancing at the alarm clock.

“Shit.” She jumped up. “I’ve got to get to work!” She looked around to see where she had left her clothes. Holding the sheet up around her breasts, she hopped around, picking them up piece by piece. He handed her the bra.

“Thanks,” she said, taking it from him while his eyes took careful inventory of every inch of her body. Her face turned a bright shade of pink.

“I’ve got to run home and get a change of clothes. I can’t go to work wearing the same thing I wore yesterday.”

“What time do you have to be there?”

“In one hour and twelve minutes.” A look of relief came over her face. “I just remembered, I have a suit from the dry cleaners hanging in my office at work. Maybe I can sneak in and change before anyone sees me.”

“You want a police escort?”

They were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Fresh coffee and bagels await you downstairs,” the Captain said through the door. His footsteps faded away down the stairs.

Marty saw a look of pure mortification cross Hope’s face. The previous pink turned crimson, making her green eyes an even deeper shade of aqua almost blue.