《An American Family》


 Chapter 1

    ***


    Gerald stared at the little square piece of paper balancing on his left-hand index finger. His depression now worse than it had ever been, and he was approaching the last few ideas on his researched list of potential cures. Traditional medicine had failed him, multiple times, and he wanted to be the best husband, the best father, the best Gerald he could be, to everyone. The isolation started again, and the family suffered¡­ again. The others gave up, long ago, but Gerald pretended he wasn¡¯t alone in his fight for the family.


    ¡°Under the tongue¡­¡± Gerald pushed his finger into the warm, soft, wet flesh at the floor of his mouth, while coming to terms with what he just did.


    ¡°Crap.¡±


    With that realization, he laid his body straight on the bed, hoping to fall asleep before he would have to consciously deal with the effects.


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    Despite his anxiety, Gerald drifted to sleep.


    POW!


    He sprung to his feet due to the piercing crack that woke him. Gerald looked at the digital clock beside the bed, but the numbers swirled around one another.


    ¡°Oh¡­ right.¡±


    Gerald remembered the LSD, rubbed his eyes, and staggered from the bedroom door to the stairs.


    He tip-toed over the wooden boards that descended below his clammy feet, and clung, for his life, to the banister. That is when he saw his son holding a gun over a small, motionless body on the floor.


    ***

 Chapter 2

    ¡°Don¡¯t you ever shut up, Gerald?¡± Tara said while rolling her eyes with as much dramatic fervor as possible.


    ¡°Yes, but I never leave the house, so you get to hear all my words,¡± he answered her in a slightly ashamed tone, even though he meant to be indignant.


    ¡°That¡¯s actually an excellent point¡­ but I still want you to shut up.¡± Tara wasn¡¯t pulling any punches with Gerald these days. She¡¯s been broken for a long time, and he doesn¡¯t seem to want to remain a productive member of their relationship.


    It¡¯s been years since he¡¯s acted like an actual person.


    ¡°I¡¯ll just go check on the kids. I can always talk to them.¡± Gerald normally wasn¡¯t very good at giving it back to his wife, but something was changing within him.


    Tara¡¯s tongue was sharper and faster than his, but one of his most redeeming qualities was his sweetness¡­ well, at least, it used to be one his most redeeming qualities, back when he had redeeming qualities.


    ¡°Gerald, please.¡± Tara said, defeated, trying to hide her poor attempt at discretion while refilling her flask with the vodka she thought no one knew about, to make her three-martini lunch in a few hours. It was the only thing she looked forward to, other than her three-martini dinners.


    ¡°Careful not to spill your lunch.¡± Gerald surprised even himself with this zinger as he walked out of the kitchen and toward the stairs to the second floor.


    Tara froze with his comment and then sprouted a sly grin that Gerald didn¡¯t see.


    ¡°Not bad for an incessant cry baby disguising himself as a man,¡± she groaned, licking the spilled vodka from the side of her palm.


    She heard the kids approaching the stairs from the second floor and gathered her keys and ¡°lunch¡±. Tara felt her skin crawl when interacting with her husband, but she still liked him a thousand times more than her children.


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    SLAM!


    The pictures on either side of the front door shook with her exit.


    ¡°Oh, well, now that¡¯s unusual!¡± Gerald stopped, turned to make eye contact with his children who followed behind him down the staircase, and said, ¡°Mommy never said goodbye!¡±


    All three of them took a beat to exchange stoic smirks before continuing their movement toward the foyer.


    ¡°Tina, take my car today,¡± Gerald spoke to his daughter while folding his car keys into her lotion-soft, lavender scented hand.


    This gesture confused Tina. Her father obsessed over his car and hated when anyone got their hands anywhere near it.


    ¡°What¡¯s up with this, dad?¡± Tina knew there must be a good reason for this decision.


    Gerald broke into tears, sobbing into the hands that held his face. The kids made eye contact with one another and flashed the ¡°dad is crying again¡± look.


    Gerald waited a moment, and when it was obvious no one was going to comfort him, he raised his head from his palms and looked toward his mostly grown children to utter, ¡°Germaine, can you hand me a tissue?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sure, dad.¡± Germaine stated with a brief, but noticeable, hesitation. He used to, at least, try to disguise his confusion and impatience with his father¡¯s dramatics, but now that he¡¯s closing in on his senior year of high school, his patience was wearing thin.


    Gerald knew just how unpopular he became in his own home, and it caused him to revert further into himself. The others had their own lives to live. Tina was leaving for college this summer; Germaine towered over both of his parents as he grew into a man; Tara was¡­ well, Tara was out to ¡°lunch¡± most of the time.


    ¡°I wanted to check the spare, and I noticed your trunk won¡¯t open. The latch must be stuck.¡± Gerald responded as the tears welled in his eyes again. ¡°It¡¯s important to take care of things like this before you leave us this sum¡­ this summer.¡±


    Gerald choked through the sentence. Tina looked at her brother and flashed a quick eye-roll before her father pretended not to notice.


    ¡°Thanks, I¡¯ll make sure that I take good care of Laverne.¡± Tina smiled at her father while repeating a name she thought up after Gerald bought the car close to a decade ago. Tina always had a special relationship with her father, and she tried with as much effort as she could afford to maintain it.


    ¡°Ha, Laverne, I forgot about that.¡± This warm memory dried Gerald¡¯s tears as the kids exited the foyer and closed the door with much less force than their mother a few minutes earlier.


    Gerald, hearing the clicks of the door being locked by the keys he just handed Tina, wiped the pitiful, largely fabricated look from his face.


    ¡°I just hope mommy doesn¡¯t get another DUI,¡± he mumbled and walked back up the stairs with the gait of a man on a mission.

 Chapter 3

    ¡°One of these days, he¡¯s going to lose it, and I¡¯m afraid of what we could come home to.¡± Tina only took her eyes off the road for a moment to gauge her brother¡¯s reaction to her words.


    Germaine didn¡¯t bother to turn his head after hearing his sister¡¯s statement of obvious concern. She pushed him further, ¡°It¡¯s getting harder to keep pretending everything is fine.¡±


    Tina exhaled. She waited for her brother¡¯s response, but when it never came, she continued after a forceful gulp of air, ¡°He¡¯s never going to be happy again. We¡¯ve been here so many times before, Germaine.¡±


    After another unusual morning with their parents, Tina was confused by her brother¡¯s indifference. Germaine sat in silence and looked over the hood of the car as the broken, yellow center line passed by in a hypnotizing fluidity.


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    After a few moments, Germaine turned to his sister and uttered, ¡°Yeah, he needs help¡­ we all do.¡±


    The rest of the ride to school was in silence.


    Once Tina secured her spot in the parking lot, Germaine exited faster than usual, cutting off Tina¡¯s wishes to have a good day.


    ¡°Have a good one, Ger-.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, Tina, gotta run!¡± Germaine didn¡¯t look back at his sister as he hurried to the front entrance to the school.


    As Germaine blurred out of sight, Tina whispered to herself, ¡°Thank God I am getting out of this shit show.¡±

 Chapter 4

    Gerald sat on the edge of the bed he used to share with his wife and wondered if he could ever reconcile what happened to his family. All that he could see when he closed his eyes was the moment he discovered the boy and the small bloody shirt.


    ¡°I am to blame for this¡­¡±


    ¡°I should have called the police¡­¡±


    ¡°They will find me if I leave this house¡­¡±


    Gerald repeated these epithets to himself, day after day, as he watched life pass by from his bedroom window. He was depressed before it happened, but now, he was totally immobilized.


    The fear paralyzed him. Things would continue to get worse unless he made the seemingly inevitable choice. A choice he vowed he would never make.


    Gerald sealed his fate with his promise.


    The days and nights passed by without significance. Gerald would wake, see his children off to their various daily destinations, interact as briefly as possible with Tara, and then return to sit in front of his bedroom window and regret the day that haunts him, regret his self-imprisonment, regret ever starting this family.


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    On cue, Gerald¡¯s phone would ring at 9 am, but he stopped answering it days ago, except for the spurts of courage he would muster after a relatively positive morning.


    ¡°Hello, is it¡­ you?¡± Gerald¡¯s voice shook with paranoia.


    The voice was unrecognizable to him, and it was never the same. ¡°Where¡¯ve you been, Gerald? You need to keep answering my phone calls.¡±


    Gerald felt the lump in his throat as he thought of what to say. ¡°I¡¯ve been here, where I am, always¡­ wh-where I will always be.¡±


    ¡°Good, Gerald. You know I only check up on you to protect you, don¡¯t you?¡± The voice was especially terrifying today in its monotone, robotic vocal disguise.


    ¡°Well, you¡¯re my only contact with the outside world. Are you ready to say what you want from me?¡± Gerald was desperate to find out why this stranger was tormenting him.


    The voice was silent much longer than usual, but responded after several moments, ¡°Gerald... I know.¡±


    ¡°I figured,¡± he responded.


    ¡°If you leave, they will find you¡­¡±


    ¡°If you tell anyone, they will think it was you.¡±


    END CALL


    Tara trembled as she placed the phone down on the desk in front of her.

 Chapter 5

    ***


    The car drifted close to the curb in the neighborhood adjacent to her own. Tara grabbed the wheel to correct her path but weaved across the yellow line and into a well-manicured lawn with a small brick wall outlining the perimeter of the property.


    SMASH!


    The car was only going twenty-ish miles per hour, and Tara was almost invincible because of the numbing effects of the contents of the flask in her hand. She was mostly unscathed from the impact to the bricks. She collected her thoughts and essentials, her keys and purse, and motioned toward the door handle to make a quick getaway before anyone noticed her intoxication.


    As Tara was about to exit the car, she remembered the Glock. She grabbed the gun from the console, slipped it into her clutch purse, and hurried through the streets to her house.


    Her hands shook as she opened the front door, and to her relief, no one seemed to be home. Tara put the clutch down and ran to the basement guest room to change and collect her thoughts.


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    ~


    There was a line of people outside Tara¡¯s office waiting to talk to her, and she had nowhere to hide behind the glass that separated her from the employees that worked on her floor. Tara often pretended to have conversations on her cell phone when she had no one to call, just to avoid interactions with anyone wishing to receive her attention.


    Her lunch was especially large today, and her anger less muted.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you people have anything better to do than stalk me?¡± Tara shouted while lobbing her phone at the door.


    ¡°Email, people!¡± She made it very clear she would not be taking any in-person visits today, and the line dissipated.


    The day came and went, liquid lunch and all. Tara waited until everyone else went home before venturing out of her office, as she always did. She hadn¡¯t always been like this. Tara used to command the attention of anyone in her proximity and welcomed collaboration. Now, employees turned over so many times that most people never knew the real Tara, only the recluse alcoholic in the glass-enclosed corner office.


    Tara, no longer able to muster the empathy needed to care what anyone else thought, lived her life on her own. She was her own family, her own coworker, her own existence. The family unit she began with her husband, almost twenty-years ago, dissolved with her desires to fight to keep it together.

 Chapter 6

    Germaine stared out of the old, lead glass window next to his desk in Chemistry class, across the shimmering green field where he once played soccer with his friends. The typical life, one that he shared with friends his age, disappeared once his father hid from the rest of society and forced him into a role he was too young to fill.


    ~


    Germaine read to the boy as part of connecting older kids with younger kids, a mentorship program of sorts. They required Germaine to participate, but he enjoyed reading the boy stories that made him laugh. The boy¡¯s parents were young, and not as wealthy as his own family, and Germaine saw this as a chance to become a role model for someone younger, someone with less opportunity and less culture at home.


    ¡°So, you want more of the classics today, or should we do something a bit more age appropriate for you this week?¡± Germaine looked at the boy with a smirk, already knowing the answer to his question.


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    The boy, furrowing his brow with impatience, responded, ¡°I am ten years old¡­ not four, Germaine.¡±


    ¡°Well, I guess that answers that!¡± Germaine opened the Riverside Shakespeare anthology he¡¯s lugged around for weeks, always hoping the boy would change his mind and prefer the ¡°wizarding world¡± of Harry Potter, instead of traitorous family murders and the evil, power hungry kings of Shakespeare.


    ¡°Oh, before I forget, can we read at my place tomorrow? My dad is sick, and someone needs to be home¡­ just in case.¡± Germaine didn¡¯t mean to say that last part out loud.


    The boy turned while speaking. ¡°Sure, you always have better snacks at your place, anyway!¡±


    Germaine cracked a smile that broke his sad reflection and responded, ¡°You¡¯re right. Your mom has something against good food!¡±


    ~


    RRRRING!


    The bell snapped Germaine out of his trance-like stare. Another school-day down.

 Chapter 7

    ~


    Tina pulled up to the curb in front of the house in time to watch the boy slip in behind Germaine. They left the door wide open.


    She forced out a sigh of disapproval and jogged toward the door before the cat, Sugar, got adventurous.


    ¡°Germaine, you know Sugar hates it here!¡± Tina shouted as she pulled the door closed behind her.


    ¡°I am sorry, Miss Tina. Germaine said I could have one of these, but only if I beat him to the door.¡± The boy stood in the dining room and held up a cookie the size of his head.


    Tina couldn¡¯t stay angry about the door after seeing the chocolate-stained face of the boy giving such an innocent excuse. She smiled and replied, ¡°Oh, I was only gonna be mad if Germaine did it, anyway.¡±


    They both laughed. Tina walked over to clean up the items left on the dinner table to make more room for the boys to read. Tina picked up the white clutch that was much heavier than she expected. As she grasped it tighter, so not to drop it, a sudden blast came from the small purse.


    POW!


    The boy fell to the floor. Tina dropped the purse, and it left her hands stinging from the heat and the force of the blast. Germaine ran into the room to discover the boy. His sister was speechless and on the precipice of hysteria.


    ¡°Tina! What in the hell?¡± Germaine shouted as his eyes focused on the purse as it lay smoking on the dining room floor, with one side ripped apart and blackened from whatever exploded inside of it.


    Tina got her jaw moving to speak, ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know what happened. Something is wrong with the purse. Is he¡­ bleeding?¡± Tina noticed the boy¡¯s shirt turning red as he bled into its fabric.


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    ¡°Go get some blankets from the attic. We have to take him to the hospital!¡± Germaine directed, while trying to piece it all together in his head.


    Tina ran out of the room with great haste. Germaine darted over to the boy and began compressions on his chest. While he used every bit of strength his arms could muster, Germaine noticed the gun sticking halfway out of the hole in the side of the damaged purse. The lifeless boy was not responding to the compressions, and Germaine locked his gaze on the floor to confirm it was a gun that pushed a bullet into his heart. Terror washed over him.


    He picked the gun up from the floor and held it in his hands over the boy, staring at it in horror. Germaine heard someone coming down the stairs, dropped the gun, and ran toward the garage.


    Gerald swayed on his feet and crept closer to the body, the gun, and the damaged white clutch purse. He took the magazine out of the gun, placed it in his pocket, shoved the clutch down the front of his pants, and tossed the small body over his shoulder. Gerald raced out of the dining room, grabbed the keys to his daughter¡¯s car that were left by the door, opened the trunk, and placed the small-framed boy within it.


    Tara stood, silent, on the stairs to the basement after witnessing everything. In horror, she thought to herself, ¡°It¡¯s my gun! It¡¯s my fault!¡±


    Her eyes widened as she came to that tragic realization.


    ~


    The ride home from school was as silent as the morning commute. Tina broke the silence, as usual. ¡°Germaine, we can¡¯t ignore this. We have to go to the police.¡±


    He pursed his lips in obvious frustration and responded to his sister¡¯s demand.


    ¡°That was mom¡¯s purse¡­¡±


    ¡°That was mom¡¯s gun¡­¡±


    ¡°That was the day she got another DUI¡­¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know what happened to him¡­¡±


    ¡°She will go to prison, and we will be accomplices for not telling anyone¡­¡±


    ¡°Maybe he is alive and just missing?¡± Germain fired out his thoughts in rapid succession.


    He looked over to his sister as she pulled her father¡¯s car into the garage and said, ¡°This stays between us. I doubt mom and dad were home. If they were home, why haven¡¯t they said anything to us? It¡¯s too late to change our plan.¡±

 Chapter 8

    Tina, Germaine, Gerald, and Tara arrived home together, but in separate cars. Germaine and Tina entered through the garage, and Gerald came in through the front door. Tara stared at the back door for a minute before taking in a deep breath of confidence to join her family.


    ¡°Trunk¡¯s all fixed,¡± Gerald said as he handed his daughter her car keys.


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    Tina accepted them with gratitude. ¡°Thanks dad.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Tara, I have something for you, too.¡± Gerald turned toward his wife and handed her a shopping bag. He raised an eyebrow and said, ¡°I got you a new purse while I was out.¡±