Servings: 1
Ingredients:
2 c. ice, crushed
4 medium fresh strawberries
¾ t. fresh lime juice
¾ t. fresh lemon juice
2 T. rum
1 T. club soda
Instructions:
Hello, everyone. Here is the short story I promised. This is the second draft so feedback would be appreciated. Thanks in advance!
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Toby Neelson walked around the mall for hours. They were going to see a movie, but Toby didn’t have enough money for a ticket so Ashlee said she would just hang out with him in the mall until their friends got finished with the movie since Avery was her ride home.
“Thanks for hanging out with me. I wanted to talk to you about something anyway,” Toby said. He squeezed Ashlee’s hand and she smiled at him with that grin he loved so much. There was just something about the way her cheeks puffed up to make room for such a big, beautiful smile.
“What’s up?” She asked.
They didn’t walk through any stores, just around the main part of the mall – that walkway which leads to all of the stores and was always cluttered with people and retail kiosks. Ashlee was a sucker for kiosks. She never bought anything, but she couldn’t walk past them without providing her attention to the sales.
“I want to thank you for taking me with you to church every week. I really like it there.” He didn’t look at her.
She did a little half skip and said, “You’re welcome,” without looking at him.
“The preacher last week, what he said about having a purpose and always thinking about how we can help other people, that reminded me of my sister.” His voice cracked on the last word. Ashlee’s expression saddened.
“I’m sorry about your family, Toby. I really wish there was something I could do to help.” She looked up at him and he gave her a small, sincere smile.
“Don’t worry about that. What I was getting at was that last week’s message has convinced me to do whatever I can to protect Isabel,” he said.
“What are you going to do?” Ashlee asked.
“I’m not completely sure just yet. I still don’t have a full plan but whatever I do, I’ll make sure that my parents can never touch her again.” He looked straight ahead of them, oblivious to Ashlee biting her lip.
“And you too, right?” You’ll make sure they can never hurt you again, right?” Ashlee asked.
He nodded slowly. “Yes, I’ll make sure they can never hurt me again.”
She stopped walking and he looked at her. “Toby, you’re scaring me. I don’t want you to end up in jail or something.”
He smiled briefly at her worry. “I won’t end up in jail, I promise.” He bent down a couple inches and kissed her gently on the forehead as her eyes closed and her lips went soft.
*************
Walking home, Toby thought about the ridiculous possibilities that lay before him. For as long as he could remember, his mother had been married to his loser of a step-dad. For as long as he could remember, he had endured their awful lifestyle alone. The cigarette burns, stepping on glass in the middle of the living room from the latest anger rage, the constant screams when the beer supply was gone and then having to go to the corner gas station to get more beer so he could sleep at night.
It was a constant battle for Toby – a constant battle not to run away. He always believed his family would overcome their awful situation, but the latest issue was a little too much for him.
His mother had been sleeping around, according to his step-dad’s yells and accusations, and had gotten pregnant. She had the baby and now Toby had a little sister named Isabel. Isabel was constantly ignored even worse than Toby had been. Of course, Isabel required more attention. She wasn’t even a year old. How she was still alive, Toby wasn’t sure. It was up to him to keep her alive and he wasn’t sure how well that was working.
She was still an infant, yes, but she was too small. Most babies are chubby but Isabel had zero fat on her. It scared him to think that one day she wouldn’t wake up. He would cry if that happened. She meant the world to him.
But now he needed to figure out how to protect her. She needed to grow up and have a normal life, one completely opposite from his.
Toby took a deep breath before opening the front door to his home. It was a pleasant day outside but there was tremendous darkness in his mind. He dreaded going home. Always. But especially today.
When he opened the door a blast of screams greeted his ears. Isabel was crying again and no one was listening. He shut the door almost inaudibly behind him, not wanting to bring the same wrath that had probably made Isabel cry. In the living room he saw his little sister's red face that always made his heart break. His step-dad was asleep and drooling on the couch, a leg and arm hanging over the side. When Isabel saw her brother she cried harder.
He picked her up and the screams ceased immediately as her head rested in the concave where his shoulder passes to his neck.
The step-dad rolled over and grunted, his eyes remaining closed. Toby grabbed a beer and a premade bottle of formula from the fridge. He put the beer on the broken table next to the sleeping drunk.
Then Toby took Isabel into her room at the very end of the left hall, right across from his room. Toys were everywhere, covering every surface. They served as a distraction for their parents' sake. Isabel didn't like any of them; all she wanted was to be held and loved.
He cleared toys from a section of the stained, brown carpet and sat down, using his loving intuition to feed her the bottle to soothe her aching stomach. She drank it so fast that he thought she would just throw it back up, but somehow it stayed down. When she was finished, although probably not satisfied, he rocked her to sleep by simply moving his body back and forth. Within minutes Isabel was drooling and sleeping with a smile on her face.
He put her in his place to sleep and went to his room. Before shutting the door he noticed the beer on the living room table was gone. He shook his head and held tears in his eyes, then shut his bedroom door.
Throwing himself on the bed, he lit a joint and inhaled deeply, trying to escape. He lay there for hours, trying to come up with a solution, but he could only think of one.
The sun eventually went down, taking the light out of his room.
He relit the joint and took another drag. The pain began to numb. That was good. He had made up his mind and needed to keep his body as numb as possible.
He reached over to his dresser and grabbed the phone. He started to dial Ashlee’s number, but hung up before it rang a second time. He didn’t want to put her in the middle of what he was about to do. He loved her and wanted her to remember him the way he had looked into her eyes a few hours before. He set the phone down, took a deep breath, and grabbed the hammer next to his bed before he could change his mind.
*************
The next day, a policeman knocked on the Neelsons’ front door. When no one answered he radioed for backup. A call had come into 911 about an hour ago. A frightened, hysterical young girl had called and told the emergency operator that she feared for her boyfriend’s life. She informed the operator that her boyfriend had been abused his entire life and now had a little sister who was also being abused and neglected. Apparently she thought that her boyfriend was going to take action and do anything he could to protect his sister and himself and that his parents would hurt him in the process. The reason she had finally called was because he wasn’t answering his home phone, which was always answered.
So now a police officer banged on the boyfriend’s front door in order to make sure that all was well in the house. Backup was on its way just incase. He had been in this sort of situation before and it never ended pretty.
Within eleven minutes, three police cars and an ambulance pulled in front of the house. With guns drawn, the police knocked on the door. When no one answered, they entered forcefully and announced themselves loudly.
The step-dad didn't stir. The authorities shouted at him with guns pointed but he didn’t respond.
“Check him,” the Lieutenant commanded.
A male officer to his right holstered his firearm and stepped toward the suspect on the couch. He checked for a pulse and shook his head. When he examined closer, he noticed that his throat was slashed, dried blood caked on the suspect’s front. On the couch next to him lay a piece of bloody, broken glass.
A female officer came out from the right hallway and reported that a woman was also dead on the floor in the bedroom, her throat also cut.
“What do you make of this?” The Lieutenant mused out loud.
"Lieutenant," called an officer from the other part of the house. "You need to see this."
The Lieutenant answered the call, walked past another officer holding a screaming female baby, and into another room.
"We found him like this," another officer informed. "No pulse."
The Lieutenant saw the teenage boy lying in a pool of blood on the floor, a hammer sticking out of the back of his skull.
“I guess the girlfriend was right,” he said somberly. He walked back into the living room to join the other officers. “Inform the mortician and see what you can piece together. Call child protective services and get them to find a home for the baby. Anything should be better than this awful place.”
