Broken (13 page)

On the way to the workbench that ran part way down the rear center of the barn, Randy gingerly picked up a coil of barbed wire from the back wall and carefully laid it down on the plank table. Using a pair of clippers that looked as if they’d been brought there within the last decade, he snipped several lengths of the rusted steel, some for her wrists, and some for her ankles.

An old pair of heavy gardening gloves helped to ensure that he wouldn’t have too many scratches himself as he wound one of the clippings around and between her wrists in a figure eight. As soon as the first layer was secured, cuts and punctures began to appear in her skin. As he threaded a shank of half-inch rope tightly around the center twist of the wire, a tight mewl slid out of her throat.

With her hands secured, he repeated the process with her ankles.

He pitched the rope up over one of the cross beams and hoisted her up until her feet were several inches off the floor, and her back side seemed to bump against the main support. He watched lines of blood slide slowly down her arms from her wrists and cocked his head, pondering the hollow feeling inside.

“
We shouldn’t be here, big kids come here. Someone’ll see,” he urged, looking from his mother to his little brother.

Eric walked toward him, his hand outstretched, while behind the ten year old boy, their mother’s wrap around dress wafted in a rustle to the floor of the barn.

“
So what? It’s just love.” He smiled at the older boy. “Don’t the big kids do the same thing? That’s what all the stuff on the walls is, right? Who loves who? Who made love with whom?”

“
They shouldn’t do that! It’s WRONG, Eric! Nobody should do that!” Randy shouted, despite the tears that streaked his face.

“
No!” Eric protested, shaking his head with matching tears moving down his cheeks. “No, you have to be wrong, Ran, you have to be! It CAN’T be wrong if everybody does it.”

He tried to ignore the memories, the shame he’d felt for the pain he caused on Eric’s face, and the burning anger that had sliced through him as their own mother fed his little brother’s insecurities.

“
Of course it’s not wrong, sweetie, love is the only thing that matters. Now remind your brother how much you love him,” she instructed, her hand wavering over her box of toys, “take off your clothes and help him with his, nice and slow, just how he likes it.”

He levered Sam’s t-shirt up, rolling it until the weight of her breasts held it against her ribs, then breathlessly, he lowered the pajama pants until they sat just under the small protrusion at the base of her abdomen.

He could still see his sweet little bear smiling at him coquettishly as he opened his jeans, slowly pushing them and the underwear beneath down over his hip bones.

“
No!” Randy squeaked in agony, “Eric, if you really love me, you’ll stop right now!”

He hooked an end of the barbed wire onto the head of a nail then walked three times around her, aware now that she was coming out from under the influence of the drug. Her re-emergence would be fast so he quickly finished, leaving the final loop a little looser before he twisted the ends together and snipped away the excess.

Next, he took a shank of wood, maybe an old broken broom handle (he didn’t know and he didn’t care), and threaded it under the final loop he’d made. He pulled it taut and gave a vicious twist that tightened the other two windings, leaving tears along her belly and a muted scream bouncing through the barn.

He watched her eyes flicker open, patiently waiting until he was certain of recognition.

Her eyes locked onto his, and when her brows furrowed, he knew she was back. He smiled, standing up straight, drawing her gaze to him while he motioned around the barn, “You know why this place is special, Sam?” he asked, turning in a circle with his arms wide. “This is where it all started. It’s where I stopped being a kid. This is where I started to behave like a man,” he explained. “This is where I took a stand.”

10

Eric picked up the next bottle on the dresser and took a whiff. The clean, light scent was just what he was looking for. Smiling easily, he slid the cologne into his overnight bag, then stood before the closet, contemplating whatever was clean.

A nails-on-a-chalkboard shriek cleaved its way upstairs, wrenching his spine,
Mom?
He frowned dashing down the stairs and into the TV room where Sandy stood with her hands over her mouth, her eyes bloodshot and spilling tears, staring at Mike in disbelief.

“Mom?” he asked, skidding to a halt, noting the dent in the TV screen and the remote on the floor. “Mike? What happened? What’s wrong?” he breathed, watching his oldest brother shake his head.

“He’s been identified as the North Side Rapist,” Mike’s voice was so soft with disbelief, Eric wasn’t sure he’d heard him right, but as Sandy dove into her eldest boy’s arms and her fists beat against his chest, he knew he had.

“It can’t be! Not my baby! Not my boy! He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, they’re LIARS! LIARS!” she shrieked.

Eric could feel his strength fading as he backed away, straight into the wall, an echo of his big brother’s voice from the other day coming back to haunt him,
‘They’re ALL nice in the beginning, you know that, you’ve seen it with your own eyes, why do you keep going back for more?’
“Holy fuck,” his eyes flicked to Mike’s and started spilling. “Oh, God, Mike,”
Not my big bear, please no. God, no, Ran, please don’t be, please not you, big bear, it can’t be him, I love him too much.

“It’s NOT POSSIBLE!” Sandy screamed, glaring at her baby.

“Like hell it isn’t!” he challenged, pushing himself off the wall, his face twisted with anger and pain,
This is YOUR fault, this never would have happened if you hadn’t driven him away!
“This is YOUR fault! All those girls? You’re responsible for every single one of them!” he accused.

“Bullshit!” Mike came forward, stepping between the young man and his mother. “Eric, what the hell are you saying?”

“No,” Sandy shook her head, “baby, no, no, I love my boys…”

“NO, Mom, YOU did this! It wasn’t bad enough you poisoned us with YOUR sickness,” he gasped against the crushing feeling in his chest, his hands fisted in his hair as he turned in circles, one second racing for the front door, the next wheeling back on Sandy with no certainty of which was the right way to go,
I have to find him, I have to help him, God, Ran, please don’t do this, please. Come with me, we’ll leave, we’ll go together, we’ll start somewhere they don’t know us. I have to find him!

“Eric, what the hell are you talking about? Shut up, man! That’s our MOTHER you’re talking to. You don’t really believe Randy could hurt anyone, do you? I mean, it has to be a mistake, right?” he pressed forward, hoping to divert his little brother’s attention from Sandy.

Over the years, he’d spent more time than he cared to admit de-fusing potential arguments between them. Most of the time, Eric simply stayed away, but whenever they were forced to spend time together the animosity was sickening.

He remembered a time when his two younger brothers and their mother were virtually inseparable. While he learned the family business at Carl’s knee, his brothers got to spend their time with Sandy, taking day trips, going to movies, having fun, while he dutifully fulfilled his role. It wasn’t that he’d minded the responsibility, but he often felt cheated out of a meaningful relationship with their mother. As a teen, he frequently fought a deep burning envy, and occasionally, as a young adult, he’d still felt it, but by then Randy was already so distant from the family that he was almost estranged, and Eric was a social butterfly who was rarely home between the boyfriends and the girlfriends he couldn’t make his mind up about.

“Sure, why would
you
believe it? You spent your life at the shop with dad,” Eric sneered.

Off to the side, Sandy’s eyes were fixed on Eric, her hands over her mouth, and she was shaking her head.

“What’re you talking about?” Mike asked, fighting a throbbing cottony feeling in his head, something he didn’t want to hear was coming.

Eric shook his head, his expression flat, “Nevermind,” he shuffled toward the kitchen.

Good, that’s good… whatever it was, I didn’t want to hear it, that’s for sure,
he knew, but before he could stop himself, gave chase into the kitchen. “No, Eric, there’s no
nevermind.
What the HELL are you talking about?”

“It’s okay, Michael,” Sandy clutched at his arm, trying to draw him back out of the kitchen, away from her baby.

Frowning, needing to find out what made Eric believe the report, and what made him blame their mother so easily, he shrugged out of Sandy’s grip, then watched her zip past him. “How can you blame me? I love him, just like I love you, and Michael, you’re my sons!” she whined, reaching toward the younger man’s head, her hands poised to cradle his face.

Behind them, Carl shambled to the kitchen, drawn from his office by the sound of another fight between his wife and youngest, and unaware of the news report that labeled his middle son a murderer.

“Yeah, sure you loved us in your own
sick
way, but I’ll bet you never FUCKED Mike!” he screamed, jabbing his finger toward the eldest son.

“Eric!” Mike gasped.

He looked at the expression on the older man’s face, “She never did, did she? Never taught you personally the
right
way to ‘Love a woman;’ did she show you personally how a
real
woman gives a guy a blow job? Did she Mike?” he couldn’t stop himself even if he’d wanted to. Sandy was the reason Randy separated himself from the family, SHE was the reason he went away, SHE was the reason Randy turned his back on Eric and it was because of her that he’d eventually even stopped letting Eric into his bed, and locked him out of his heart.
If she’d just let us be, this never would have happened! I would have taken care of him, and he would have let me.

“Did you ever expect either of us to have a normal relationship with a woman? Or did it just get you off to think that every time one of us had sex with a girl we’d see your face or taste your pussy?” he continued.

Mike couldn’t stop himself; for the first time in his life he balled up his fist, pulled it back and connected with his baby brother’s cheek, “Liar! You sick little fucker, take it back! Take it back right now, you little shit!”

Arms flailed as the boys grappled across the kitchen, Sandy haltingly reaching toward them, her voice pleading as she begged them to stop. Behind her, Carl clutched the wall, struggling for air.

Eric jumped, wrapping his arm around Mike’s neck, holding the older man captive in a headlock, “Why do you think all my lovers are men, Mikey? You think the first taste I ever got was girl? Guess again.” Mike slid from the soft headlock, going once again for the young man.

“What?” he asked, as Eric grabbed hold of his arm, twisted it behind his back and slammed him chest first into the wall.

“That’s right, you weren’t part of the hot dog and a bun club,” he breathed into Mike’s ear, slowly releasing him, turning him around and holding him against the wall gently by the shoulders as tears broke over the rims of his eyes. “She said it made us special. She said it was love,” he glanced tearfully back over his shoulder at Sandy, “she said it was good and…” he groaned wistfully, “and it
was
good, God, sometimes, when it was just us,” he glanced back at Sandy, “When we could be with each other late at night without
her
around, it was heaven,” his fists clenched into Mike’s shirt, his chest bobbing as he struggled against the sobs. He looked up into the older man’s face, seeing a matching set of tears ready to break free, “Ran was all I ever had. He was all I ever wanted,” he leaned forward, his forehead against the man’s chest. “He was the first boy I ever fell in love with.”

Mike’s head shook violently back and forth even as his arms clutched around his baby brother, holding him close, “Shut up, shut up, Eric, just shut up, please.”

“He didn’t want me anymore, and he wouldn’t let me love him,” Eric sobbed.

“Sandra?” Carl finally managed to breathe in the doorway, his fingers white clutching the wall. His face shone waxy, glistening and purely colorless as he sank down toward the floor.

In the instant Mike grabbed Eric’s face in both his hands, the young man almost thought he was going to feel his big brother’s lips on his and his breath stopped in his chest. “Call 911,” Mike instructed, before moving to Carl’s side, unable to look at his mother who sat with his head in her lap, stroking his shiny nearly hairless pate.

“Carl? Baby? C’mon now, don’t do this baby, stay here,” she pleaded.

--

Once the EMTs arrived, Mike drew Eric aside, “Eric, if you and Randy both, I mean, if she,” he hung his head in shame, years of petty resentments lay heavy in his heart, “do you have any idea where he might have taken Sam?”

“No, bro.” Eric shook his head desperately. “I wish I did. I like Sam, I think she knew I had a crush on her for a while, but she never made me feel stupid for it,” his eyes grew wide and he began to shake, “Oh God, oh god, oh god, this is my fault,” he whispered, then slapped his hand over his mouth, “Ran knew, jeez just the other day we were talking about Sam. He asked if I was still crushing on her and I said I was just a little maybe, but, oh jeez, Mike! I didn’t mean it. Maybe he does still love me and he got jealous, oh shit!”

Masking the distaste that came with the sudden knowledge of his brothers’ incestuous relationship, Mike shook his head, “No, Eric, no. Listen to me, it’s not your fault! Whatever he’s done, whatever happens, you can’t let yourself give in to that, okay? It’s not your fault.” He grasped the younger man by the head, turning his face so they were eye to eye, “You gotta tell the cops, Eric. Maybe something you know can help them find her.”