Tell My Dad (18 page)

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Authors: Ram Muthiah

BOOK: Tell My Dad
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They walked inside the house. The medium-sized living room was cluttered with toys, video games, water paint, and small chairs. Angel sat on the couch with her hands on her right cheek and stared at the man entering the house.

“You must be Angel! I’m Gilbert.”

“Hi.” Angel got up, smiled, and shook his hand.

“You really look like an angel. Your mom gave you an appropriate name.”

“Actually, her dad gave her that name. She was born ten years after our marriage,” Laura said.

“I am sure that the man had good sense for names. What grade is she in?”

Laura noticed he kept staring at Angel.
What is that look?
She sighed. “I think we should get moving.”

“Sierra can wait. I want to know more about Angel,” he said as he lowered himself onto the couch, next to Angel.

Laura crossed her arms over her chest and watched Angel moving to her right, a few inches away from Gilbert to avoid him.

He giggled, slid himself to his right, and moved closer to Angel.

“Mom, I want to watch TV.” Angel was about to cry.

“Gilbert, give her some time to know you. Let’s get moving now.”

He looked up and smiled. Then, he puts his finger to his mouth as if to signal “Don’t say anything.” Then, he grabbed Angel’s left hand. “See…You look so beautiful. Your skin is so soft.” He rubbed her hand slowly.

Angel looked uncomfortable.

Laura stepped forward.

“What grade are you in,
baby
?” He grinned.

Angel quickly closed her nose. “You smell so bad. Don’t come too close to me.”

His face turned red. “I am going to be your stepfather. You need to learn some manners, young lady.”

Angel gasped and looked at her mother, who moved closer and pointed her right index finger at Gilbert.


Stepfather?
What is wrong with all you men? I think you should get out of my house now.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. All I am asking is what grade she is in! You are making a big deal of it!” He turned to Angel. “Okay, Angel. Tell me; what grade are you in?” His smirk remained.

Laura said sternly, “Angel, go back to your room. I have to talk to Gilbert.”

Angel got up and walked slowly toward her room.

“Oh, man! You are scaring that little girl, Laura. Look at her. How can you yell at that little angel?”

Angel stopped walking, turned around, and looked at Laura.

“Goddamn it, just go to your room!” Laura screamed. Angel ran to her room. Laura’s blood started to boil. “You son of a bitch, get out, right now!”

He did not seem to be angry. Instead, he smiled.

“What is that fucking smirk? Just get out.”

“You really don’t get. Do you?” He slowly got up as he shoved his hand into his pants pocket.

“What—” Laura stopped when she saw the gun in his hand. The next thing she knew there was a blow to her head with the back of the gun and a voice from afar.

“I did not come here to take
you
, bitch.”

* * *

G
ilbert opened
the door with a gun in his hand. Angel screamed.

“Shut up. I will kill you if you scream again.”

“I want to see my mom.” Angel started crying.

“Your mom is dead—”

Angel screamed louder and ran toward the door.

Gilbert grabbed her hair with his left hand and slapped her face with his right hand three times. She stopped crying and dropped her face into his hand. He dropped his hold on her hair and watched her falling down on the carpet.

“Oh shit.”

His phone rang as he checked her pulse. He slid his hand quickly into his right pants pocket, and pressed the side button to ignore the call. Then, he ran to the truck, lifted the thirty-one-foot-long wheeled ice chest and rolled that down into the house. He lifted Angel from the carpet and positioned her inside the ice chest before closing it. As he rolled the ice chest toward the entrance, he paused for a moment to look at Laura. Then, he pulled the trigger.

* * *

A
bout twenty minutes later
, Gilbert took a left turn before Hayward Memorial Park and drove straight for three minutes. Then, he took a sharp left to enter a narrow road leading to small house surrounded by redwood trees. He parked the truck in front of the lonely house and jumped out.

His phone rang again. Now, he answered it. “Yes, Bob. You will get the girl tomorrow.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath after ending the call. He remembered his grandma as he smelled the eucalyptus aroma in the air. He had spent most of his nights in his grandparents’ house after getting beaten up in the middle of the fights between his parents.

He came back to the present moment and remembered the girl. He pulled the ice chest down and rolled it toward the front door.

The front door was wide open. He remembered locking it before heading to Starbucks. He pulled his gun out and held it in his right hand as he rolled the ice chest wheeler using his left hand.

As he stepped into the house, he saw an Asian man in a Raiders hat and weird red dress sitting on the edge of the L-shaped dark-gray couch and staring at him, a MAC-10 in his hand.

“What the—” Gilbert raised his gun.

“Don’t even think about it. If you make even the slightest move, I will blow your head off. Leave that box there, and walk
slowly
toward me.” The man stood up and waved the MAC-10.

Gilbert let go of the ice chest without looking at it and inched forward. His mind was occupied with strategies to knock down the man standing in front of him. The door was still open. For a moment, he thought of crouching quickly, dodging the bullets, and running toward the back door.

“Okay. Enough. Stop right there,” the man ordered.

* * *

H
arrison glanced
at the ice chest. “What is in there—”

Gilbert charged forward to attack him in the face.

Harrison moved slightly to his right and let Gilbert’s arm pass by. Then, he used his left leg to kick hard at the side of Gilbert’s left knee.

Gilbert lost his balance and fell on his right side on the couch. Harrison aimed his gun at Gilbert’s knees and fired one bullet into each knee. The suppressor in the submachine gun silenced the shots.

Gilbert screamed.

“Is it painful? How many little girls screamed like this? Do you have a count of how many lives you destroyed?”

Gilbert leaned his back on the couch. “Who are you, man? What are you talking about?” Blood started pouring from his knees.

“What is in that box?” Harrison pointed his piercing eyes at the wheeler before turning them to Gilbert.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Really?”

Gilbert closed his eyes without saying a word.

“You stay right there. Make another move, I will put a bullet in your head.” Harrison kept the aim steady on Gilbert’s forehead as he started moving slowly backward. As he got closer to the wheeler, he slammed his right leg on the front door to close it.

He scanned around and looked at the couch for a brief moment. Then, he held the gun steady in his left hand, opened the ice chest with his right hand, and found the girl in a fetal position.

“You motherfucker.” Harrison leaped forward and slammed the gun into the side of his head. Gilbert instantly fell down on the floor.

Harrison pressed his shoe hard on Gilbert’s left knee. “Is that girl alive?”

“Yes! Yes!” he screamed.

“What did you do to her?” Harrison lifted the pressure from his knee.

Gilbert crawled backward on the floor and leaned against the dirty couch full of cigarette burns. “Nothing. I just brought her here. Who are you, man?”

“Who am I? The correct question is:
Who are you
? Are you a human being or an animal? You went to prison for molesting your stepdaughter. Even the prison time did not teach you a lesson. You stuffed a small girl into a box?” Harrison spit in his face.

Gilbert looked up and stared at the MAC-10, which was pointed right at his nose. “Listen, I made a mistake. Okay? Just call the cops, okay?”

“You look like a well-built guy. Why don’t you find a woman and marry? If you want to have sex with someone, why not try someone your age, moron?”

Gilbert stared at him without saying a word. He stretched his injured legs, his hands on the floor.

Harrison continued, “Oh, I know why. Because you are a coward. You can’t go after women your age because they will kick your ass. You can show your courage only to young children, is that it?”

Gilbert raised his right middle finger above his head. “Fuck you!”

“No. Fuck this.” Harrison took a machete he had hidden behind his shirt and swung it in a semicircular motion. Gilbert’s right wrist was cut, and his hand fell to the floor.

“These hands will never touch another innocent girl. Do you understand?”

“You cut my hand off!” Gilbert screamed. He sobbed in pain and disbelief. “You are barbaric!”

Harrison waited for a minute; he wanted Gilbert to feel pain before dying. Then, he threw the machete onto the couch, lifted the MAC-10, aimed it just below Gilbert’s belly, and shot multiple rounds.

Then, he threw the gun on Gilbert’s dead body and looked around. It was eleven o’clock, but there was not much light inside because of the trees in the backyard. He walked back to the ice chest and lifted Angel, who was in a deep sleep. He carried her slowly to the right corner of the couch and let her lie down there.

He walked to the kitchen, grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator, and sprinkled the water on Angel’s face. After a minute, she slowly woke up.

As soon as she opened her eyes, she screamed.

Harrison took a step back. “It’s okay. Don’t cry. I am a good guy. I’m like your father. The bad guy is dead. Look down on the floor. See? He is dead.” He pointed at the dead guy.

Angel looked down at the man lying in the pool of blood and screamed even louder. “I want my mom!”

“Okay, okay. The cops are coming now. They will take you to your mom. The bad guy is dead. Don’t worry!”

Angel sobbed as she looked at the dead man. “He said that my mom is dead. I want my mom…”

His heart sank. “You know what? That crook lied to you. You will see your mom soon.” He wiped the tears off her face. “Listen, I want you to be brave and talk to the cops about what happened. Okay?”

Angel nodded.

He sat on his knees and searched for a phone. He found one in Gilbert’s left pocket and handed it over to Angel. He said, “Call 911. Tell them what happened, okay?”

Angel nodded and dialed 911.

“Hello, my name in Angel. I am scared. Somebody hit my mom and took me to his house.”

“I am here to help you. My name is Diana. What is your name again, sweetie?” the operator asked.

“Angel.”

“Good. Where are you, Angel?”

“My mom’s boyfriend hit her and took me to his house. Can you please come here? I am so scared.”

“Do you know where you are now?”

Angel put the phone slightly down on her right shoulder and whispered to Harrison, “She wants the address.”

Harrison adored her voice without showing any emotion. “Just hold on.” He signaled to her to wait and rummaged through the paper stack on the coffee table on his right, between the couch and love seat. He found a utility bill, handed it to Angel, and circled the address using his finger.

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