HAYWOOD
Chapter two:
Something felt familiar to Richard…Something he couldn't quite explain. Sitting in an old winged back chair, he noticed the coffee rings on the arm rest. This was really starting to bother Richard; it wasn't so much a thought as it was a feeling of…? Relaxing in the old chair, he took notice of the large fish tank next to him. Watching the dozens of fish passing by Richard didn't know Dr. Wellington had come into the office, and had quietly seated himself across the small room.
"Mr. Haywood I presume?" Began Wellington with amusement in his voice as Richard jolted in surprise.
"Ah yeah, that would be me" Glancing nervously from wall to wall Richard suddenly felt being here was a very bad idea.
"I see you like my pets?" Asked Wellington gesturing toward the fish tank
"They're okay" he shrugged wanting to make it apparent he wasn't impressed by fish
"Mmm, so what has brought you to me this afternoon Haywood?" The large rimmed glasses just beginning to slide down his nose
"I uh got into some trouble at school and so here I am"
Wanting to keep his answers short Richard had no intention of giving himself away least of all to a shrink
"Do you want to talk about your school troubles?" inquired Wellington causally
"No, not really"
This is such bullshit he's putting me to sleep here thought Richard looking back at the school of fish swimming in circles next to him
"Then what would you like to discuss?"
Something about the name Haywood was sticking out in Wellington's mind like a thumb tack he knew this was Lawrence Miles Haywood's son but somewhere else he had heard this name…
Several minutes of silence past, Richards eyes firmly set on the fish tank; Wellington watching him through half fallen glasses. Just when Wellington thought this session would be a waste young Haywood spoke.
"What's his name?"
The question started Wellington who for a moment had no idea whom the boy was speaking of, and then he realized Haywood hadn't taken his eyes from the fish tank.
"Which one do you mean?"
The boys' eyes never wavered away from the tank
"The one that's black and white. All these fish are yellow, gold, red, solid black or solid white. But this one (points to fish) he is both black and white with a tip of gold on each fin."
"Why do you want to know his name, it is just a fish?"
"No, he is different. He is more then the other fish like two parts becoming whole"
Catching himself suddenly Richard wasn't going to let himself be examined
"Different people, give those fish different names. His name is whatever you want it to be."
"Huh yeah whatever, I need a smoke. Nice visit doc but I got to go"
Pulling himself up from the chair Richard made his way for the door, taking one last look at the fish as he exited the office.
Wellington sat up in his chair, opening Haywood's new file he went to make notes on their short visit. Something about what the boy had said regarding that fish, out of all 32 fish in the tank he had related most to that one. That's was the smallest fish in the tank, hardly anyone noticed it. Well really no one except Justin Pendleton. And that's when it suddenly occurred to Wellington as he stared into Richards file; Richie Haywood was the name Justin Pendleton had given that very fish over a year ago….
LATER THAT NIGHT
Coming into the house Richard was surprised the lights were still on after eleven. He made his way up stairs when his mom stopped him on the landing mid-way up.
"You left early!" Dressed in a silk robe, with curlers in her hair Rita Haywood looked scared
"What are you talking about mom, go to bed you're drunk" pushing past her he went on toward his room
"Your father knows you left the therapist early, and he isn't happy about it"
This stopped Richard in his tracks, turning back toward her; he could feel the blood draining from his face
"How does he? Did that balding quack call him!" Slowly backing toward his room
"No your dad called the nurse, said he had something to tell you but you had already left. You know how he gets when he thinks you're wasting his money and. and disobeying him…" There was an unmistakable quiver in her voice as she looked at the floor and twisted her hands together
"Where is he?" Richard's mind was suddenly racing a marathon of options
"He went to the store to buy more wine...Hurry, leave now before he.."
But before she could finish the sentence, the car garage began opening
With widened eyes, Richard made a dash to his room, grabbing his backpack and stuffing clothes inside. He could hear his father screaming down below
"WHERE IS HE!" the walls shook
"At a friends house dear I told you already" defended his mother
"LYING BITCH!" there was a boom and his mothers scream as she was flung to the floor
Half way out the window Richard stopped, paralyzed by fear for his mother, taking a deep breath Richard climbed back into his room and listened
"YOU STUPID WHORE, WHERE IS YOUR FUCKING MISTAKE? WHERE IS YOUR SON?"
A lamp flung across the room, breaking against the wall
Richard gathered all his courage picked up his baseball bat and opened his bedroom door, went to the stairs and slowly started to make his way down.
Lawrence Miles Haywood stood over his cringing wife as she clung to the floor whimpering, his back was turned away from Richard as Richard raised up his bat…
"Why do you make me do this to you, huh? Why do you have to make me so mad?"
Lawrence slurred and wobbled, Rita Haywood opened her eyes just in time to see her 17 year old son Richard raising a baseball bat over Lawrence's head
"Don't do it honey! Please he isn't worth it, please" Rite spoke directly to Richard
"I'm not doing it you're doing it he is your son" mumbled Lawrence thinking she was talking to him
Richard's eyes dart around unsure of what to do; he hated his father and really wants to just bash him right now
"Baby please…" begs his mom
Lowering the bat, Richard nods to his mother
Just then Lawrence falls forward passing out on the floor in a drunken stupor
"Get out of here before he wakes up, you should have already left!" hisses Rita Haywood trying to keep quiet
Dropping the bat Richard runs up the stairs, grabbing his back pack and gets out of there. He has no where to go, he cant go to any of his friends houses, they wouldn't understand. So he just keeps driving, speeding under the streetlights. He drives until he gets to the top of a cliff, parking he thinks maybe this will be a nice place to see the sun rise. Getting out of his parked car he lights up a cigarette and sits on the hood. It's an early September night but the winds blowing against the rocks making him shiver. Looking out across the crashing waves, Richard Haywood feels alone, completely and totally alone. He thinks back to that strange looking fish at the therapist's office today. He feels like that fish alone, and un- seen, small and different; throwing his cigarette over the bluff he turns to go back in his car. That's when he sees's it, he isn't sure what he is looking at, at first. It's so dark up here; the only light comes from the moon which is half blocked by clouds. Letting his eyes refocus and adjust he looks again, yes about 200 yards away there is a house of some sort, its old looking and appears vacant. Zipping up his favorite red jacket he heads toward the old house that appears to be clinging to the edge of the cliff.
