Coming Clean (6 page)
“Okay,” he said. “I'll think of something.” I dropped down to the backyard.
“Like a cat.” Matt meowed. “That good?”
“Yeah,” I said through the fence. “Perfect.” He meowed again, and I followed my brother's footsteps in the snow.
The snow was untouched in the back-yard. A light glowed from a large window. Adam was kneeling just outside of the light, peering through the window.
“What's going on?” I said.
“Sly's in there,” Adam whispered back.
“Who else?” I said.
“I don't see anyone.” I peeked through the window. Sly was leaning against a counter in the kitchen. He had a beer bottle in his good hand. I started to stand a little taller to try and see what he was looking at. But just as I was getting up to full height, Adam yanked me back down.
“Someone's coming into the kitchen,” he whispered. I leaned against the wall and stared out at the blank, white backyard.
“Who is it?” I got myself level with the window and looked in. Standing on the other side of the kitchen from Sly was Amanda Palmer.
“Do you know her?” Adam said.
“Yeah, that's Amanda Palmer. She's one of Mary Jane's friends.”
“I thought I recognized her,” Adam said. “She was at the club that night, wasn't she?”
“Yeah, they did everything together.”
“What's Sly doing with her? I mean, she's like your age.”
“And Sly's, what, eighteen?”
Adam looked at me as if I were dim. “Twenty-one.”
“No way.”
“Yeah.”
I looked through the window at Amanda. She was wearing a tank top and pajama bottoms. Her hair was all over the place, and she looked as if she'd been crying.
“Do you think something was going on between him and Amanda?” I whispered.
Adam shrugged. “I have no idea.”
Amanda was shaking her head at whatever Sly was saying. Sly held his hands out to her, and she backed up, wrapped her arms around herself and then pointed at the front door. Sly dropped the beer bottle onto the counter and took a step toward her. She backed up again, and I heard her yell, “Just go.”
“What's he doing?” I said.
“I don't think she wants him there,” Adam said.
We watched as Sly reached out for her. She turned away from him, and he grabbed her roughly and spun her around.
“The asshole,” Adam said. And then he was up and running toward the front of the house. Amanda shoved Sly away, and he came right back at her, grabbing her and shaking her.
I followed Adam around the side of the house and scurried over the fence.
“What's going on?” Matt said.
“Sly's getting weird with Amanda Palmer,” I said as I dropped to the ground.
“Amanda? What's she doing with him?” I darted past Matt, trying to keep up with my brother.
I made it to the porch to discover the front door open. I hesitated for a moment and then stepped in.
The house was dark except for the kitchen and living room. It seemed that Sly spotted Adam just as I came out of the foyer.
“What are you doing here?” Sly said.
“You have to tell the truth,” Adam said.
“Amanda, you'd better call the police,” Sly said. He let Amanda go and pointed at the cell phone on the counter. “There's a criminal in your house.”
“Everyone just get out,” Amanda said.
I came up behind my brother.
“Two criminals,” Sly said. He smirked at me. “Drug dealers, or so I've heard.”
Adam stepped toward Sly. Amanda grabbed the phone. Her eyes were all over the place, dancing from one of us to the next. She suddenly ducked into the hallway saying, “Yes, police please.”
“You know my brother had nothing to do with it,” Adam said.
“That's not what I hear,” Sly replied. He zipped his coat up and moved around the island that separated the kitchen from the living room. “Listen, why don't you just get out of here. The police are going to be here any minute, and they have an arrest warrant on your head.”
“Because I'm not going to run,” Adam said. “I'll cop to my part in all this, but you have to as well.”
“I don't have to do shit, man.” He laughed and casually put his hands in his pockets. “You are such a chump. What did you think was going to happen?”
“I didn't think anyone was going to die.”
“Yeah,” Sly said. “That's not really anyone's plan, is it. But someone did.” Sly moved past Adam, almost as though he was daring him to make a move.”
“You're going to admit you were the supplier,” Adam said.
“Who, me? I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Your fingerprints have to be all over that garbage room.”
“You mean the one at the club? Well, sure, I work there, right?” Sly shook his head.
I saw my brother's fists clench. Sly did too.
“My brother had nothing to do with it,” Adam said.
I could hear sirens in the distance. Everyone turned and looked at the door as though the police would already be standing there waiting.
“I already told you, I don't know what you're talking about.” Sly laughed again.
And a moment later, Adam was on him. He caught him in the side of the head with a big full swing. He followed this with a jab to the gut and, as Sly started to go down, he caught him with an uppercut. I had never seen my brother move so quickly before.
Sly fell to his knees. Adam took a step forward and kicked him in the chest, then jumped on top of him once he was on the floor.
“My brother had nothing to do with it.”
“What is wrong with your head, man?” Sly said. He turned sideways and spit out some blood.
“Adam,” I said. “Let him up before the cops get here.”
Amanda came back into the room.
“Say it,” Adam said. “Say it so everyone can hear it. My brother had nothing to do with it.”
“Fine. As far as I know, he had nothing to do with it,” Sly said.
Adam turned to Amanda. “Did you hear that?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“You'll tell the police?”
“Sure,” she said. I noticed that she never once looked at me. “I knew that.”
“You tell them,” Adam said. Blue and red lights flashed around the room. There was a slamming of car doors. Adam stood. As the officers stepped into the room, he raised his hands.
“Everyone stay still,” one of the officers said.
“This guy just assaulted me,” Sly said. He'd pulled himself up onto a chair and sat there shaking.
“I am Adam MacLean and I want to confess to my crimes,” Adam said. One of the officers crossed the room and grabbed Adam's hands. He pulled them down and cuffed him, then patted him down for weapons.
“I want to press charges,” Sly said, spitting blood onto the carpet. The officer walked Adam out of the living room.
“Everyone stay put,” the other officer said. “We might be here awhile.”
Adam came home for two days before the police arrived to take him for his first of many court appearances. There were a lot of charges against him. Dealing drugs was at the top of the list. Assault came a close second. Adam told the police the same story, the one where Sly had him handing out the drugs and nothing more, over and over again, but no one wanted to listen. The problem was he'd lied to them before. He'd run away. And it was only at the last minute that he came clean about giving Mary Jane the drugs that had killed her.
I felt like that was the most courageous thing he had ever done. No matter what happened, it seemed to me that Adam had redeemed himself with that one admission. He could have gone on lying. In fact, he might have got away with it. But he finally stopped telling stories and, instead, admitted to his part.
Amanda told the police that, to her knowledge, I had had nothing to do with drugs at the club. But she had also been there when Adam had given Mary Jane the drugs that killed her. I later heard that she'd had something going with Sly. Though, whether she knew he was the actual dealer or not, I'll never know. Sly had kept himself well removed from the whole enterprise. Once it was all said and done, there was no way to prove he'd ever even seen a bag of drugs before.
Two months after the incident, Adam was in jail. There was no doubt this was going to happen. He'd been caught in the middle, and though he hadn't intentionally done anything to hurt anyone, someone had died. Detective Weir had worked hard to make certain Adam was not out on the streets. I think he figured Adam would, eventually, roll on whoever the distributer was. And he had. Over and over again. Sly was the center. Sly was the real dealer. Sly had put him up to it. But that wasn't the answer the detective wanted.
It sounded too much like another lie.
There's a lot that goes into being a visitor at a prison, even a juvenile one. Luckily, since visiting hours were almost over, I was able to pass through with a little of my dignity intact.
Adam was sitting at a table in the middle of the visitors' room.
“No Plexiglass shield between us?”
I said as I sat down. He was in an orange jumpsuit. The room was filled with low, murmured conversations and occasional sobs. It was, by far, the very worst place I had ever been in my life.
“Yeah, that's only for the hard-core guys,” Adam said.
“Hey, don't kid yourself. You're hard-core.”
“Not so much in here, Rob.” He looked at me, then turned his head away. “This place is awful.”
“Yeah,” I said. Our mother had been to visit once. I'd been at school that day, so this was the first time I'd spoken with Adam since he'd been put in here.
“But you won't be here for long.”
“Who knows?”
“Is it really bad?” He nodded to this, his head tilted down. I could tell he was crying, and I had no idea what to do.
I wanted to reach over and hold him.
To give him a hug, like he used to do for me when we were young and I'd fallen and hurt myself. He used to be able to make anything better. And yet now, I could do nothing for him.
“So,” I said.
“Sorry, man. It's just⦔ He looked up, then away. “It's not where I expected to be, you know?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I know.”
“It's just so stupid. Everything. Why?”
He stopped, shook his head again. “The counselor says asking why isn't useful. Not now. Anyway, I know why.”
“Why what?”
“Why I'm here.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I'm a bad person.”
“No, you're not,” I said. “Man, not even close. You made a bad choice. That's all. This will blow over, man. This is nothing. You never received any money for any of the drugs.”
“Sly paid me.”
“Not for that,” I said.
“Yeah, well, the problem is that I have a certain reputation. Anytime anyone asks about me, the first thing they hear is that I'm full of shit. That doesn't help when I claim I'm innocent. And it wouldn't even matter if they got something on Sly. It wouldn't change any of the facts.”
“How's your lawyer?”
“I don't know. I haven't really spoken to her.”
“They can't keep you here for long.”
He looked at the table again. “Mandatory sentence,” he said. And those were the two hardest words he'd likely ever had to say. And the two hardest I had ever heard.
“Something will happen,” I said.
“Yeah.” He looked at me again. “Listen, don't take this the wrong way, but it'd probably be best if you didn't come visit.”
“What?”
“I don't want you around all this shit.”
“Adam. I will be here every week.”
“Man, don't do that. We can talk on the phone, all right?”
“No, I mean, yeah, but also⦔
“It's just going to be for the best.” He suddenly stood up. “I'm sorry, man. I should have tried harder.”
“Tried harder at what?” I said.
“Just, you know, tried harder. Tried to be someone rather than create the illusion of someone.”
“You're someone,” I said. “You're my brother.”
“Yeah.” He smiled and gave me a nod. “You maybe need to choose your family a little better next time.”
But that isn't an option, I thought. We don't choose our family.
“Given the choice,” I said, “I'd still choose you.”
“Proving yet again that your grades do not necessarily reflect your intelligence.” He gave me a slight smile. “Listen, I just don't want you to see this shit. I don't want you to be here around these people. It won't do you any good. Forget about me for now. I'll see you when I get out, and maybe we can start again.” He turned to leave.
And though there were signs everywhere that read No Touching, I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't just let him go off like that. Even in those final moments, I had to try and make things better. I darted around the table and grabbed him and held on to him as hard as I could.
“I'm sorry, man. I should have tried harder too. I'm sorry.”
“No touching!” someone yelled. But I just held on. “Hey, no touching.” Then there were hands on me, pulling me away.
And, a moment later, he was gone.
Jeff Ross is the author of three books in the Orca Sports seriesâ
Dawn Patrol,
The Drop
and
Powerslide
. He was a DJ for a number of years but now lives happily, although with reduced hearing, in Ottawa, Ontario, where he teaches Scriptwriting and English at Algonquin College.
o
rca s
o
undings
The following is an excerpt from
another exciting Orca Soundings novel,
Dead Run
by Sean Rodman.
