Chapter Ten
Owen pulled the Camaro into his driveway, and looked over at me. "You've been awfully quiet tonight. What are you thinking about?"
I sighed and answered, "Do you ever feel cursed?"
"Scout, you are not cursed!"
"You don't know that. With everything that has happened, to me and to the people I love, I'm probably the most cursed person I know."
"You're not cursed!" Owen stated matter of fact even though he had no good argument for his point of view.
Owen parked the car, opened my door and held my hand as the two of us entered his house through the side door into the kitchen.
"You want something to drink?" Owen asked as he pulled two glasses out of the kitchen cabinet.
"Sure." I leaned on the kitchen counter, and watched him pull a carafe of orange juice out of the refrigerator. I heard the sound of a woman screaming on the second floor of the house. "Did you hear that?"
Owen clearly heard the sound. His face filled with alarm. He slammed the carafe on the counter, sprinted across the kitchen and up the servant staircase at the back of the house.
I followed my boyfriend, but could not keep pace with him as he ascended the stairs two at a time. When I reached the top of the stairs the hallway was already vacant, but I could clearly hear Owen's mother screaming and sound of a young child crying. I crept down the hallway and peeked around the door jamb into Olivia's toy room.
Inside, Owen was trying to convince his mother to calm down and think about what she was doing. I glanced at his mother. She was dressed in her long peach satin night gown and robe, and her hair was disheveled. She held a wooden table leg in her hand from the broken tea table in the middle of the room.
"Her toys are always strewn about. She's ungrateful! She made me trip and break this table! This was expensive! Move out of my way! She needs to learn her lesson!"
Owen furrowed his brow and snapped at his mother. "You're drunk! You probably fell on your own!"
"You are always getting in the way! She will never learn her place if you keep interfering!" Angela screamed at her son. She raised the table leg up to threaten her children.
I held my breath for a moment and my heart pounded with fear. I glanced into the far corner of the room to find Olivia dressed in her pajamas, cowering and crying.
"Stop it! You're drunk! Put that down!" Owen screamed back at his mom as he raised his arm to shield himself in case she planned to hit him as he attempted to get the weapon from her grip.
Angela held the table leg out of Owen's reach. "She can't have everything all over the place! She needs to do what I tell her to when I tell her to do it!"
"She should be in bed! Not awake cleaning her toys up because your upset that dad's out of town!" Owen snapped then ceased trying to get the weapon and turned his focus to rescuing his sister from the corner of the room. He kept his body between his mother and her daughter. He reached his hand behind his back. "Come on, Livy. Stay behind me and I'll get you outta here."
Olivia fearfully stood up, grabbed her brother's hand and slowly walked behind him towards the door.
Angela knew she was losing control of the situation. In a rage, she raised the wooden table leg and thrashed Owen several times before he was able to shield himself with one arm and relinquish the weapon from his mother with the other. When he did he turned to the doorway and his eyes filed with surprise when he saw me standing there wide eyed and speechless.
Angela was furious as she slapped at her son and attempted to regain her weapon.
Owen pulled Olivia's hand to get her in front of him then pushed her towards the doorway. He quickly looked me in the eye. "Take her to her room, and lock the door!"
I grabbed Olivia's hand and noticed we were both trembling as we ran down the hall to her bedroom. Olivia climbed up onto her bed and cried as she worried for her brother. I stood by the door and left it open a moment in case Owen needed to join us for safety.
We could easily hear Angela screaming at her son, "She spilled wine all over the carpet! Someone has to clean up these toys! If she won't, you will! Clean up these damn toys!"
Owen's temper flared as he yelled back as loud as he could. "You want the damn toys cleaned up? Is that what you want, Mother? I'll be happy to clean up the damn toys!" Owen stormed out of the toy room and down the hall. From Olivia's bedroom doorway I watched Owen throw open Oliver's bedroom door across the hall. "If you want toys picked up, I'll pick up the toys!" Owen screamed in extreme anger and began picking up the tinker toys and trucks from Oliver's bedroom floor where they had sat dormant for the past six years.
From across the hall I held the door open and watched in shock.
"NO! Don't you dare touch anything in that room!" Angela shrieked from down the hall as she stumbled towards her son. The woman stopped outside the door and looked inside with astonishment. She cried out in agony, "Stop! Don't touch that! You're ruining everything!"
"You wanted the toys picked up, so I am picking up the toys!" Owen yelled as he continued to dismantle the shrine to his brother.
"No, no, no..." Angela cried out. She darted into the room, grabbed Owen's shoulders and tried to pull him out of the room. When she knew her attempts were futile she turned her rage towards something else she thought she could over power. The drunken woman turned and found me watching from the other side of the hall.
"You!" She screamed at me, hoisted up her long nightgown and stormed across the hallway. "This is all your fault! He used to love me, but you turned him against me!"
For a second, I froze in panic then my instincts kicked in. I pushed the bedroom door shut, but my hands were shaking so bad that I wasn't able to turn the skeleton key to lock the door.
With her rage, Angela easily turned the handle and shoved the door open.
Petrified, I backed up to Olivia's bed to shield the little girl's body with mine.
In a drunken rage, Angela lunged towards me. She raised her hands to me and pounded on me with her fist closed tight.
Olivia let out a terrified scream.
Shock ran through my body as I tried to dodge her blows then grabbed the taller woman's wrists to keep her from hitting me again.
"Leave her alone!" Owen's voice commanded as he ran up behind his mother. He wrapped his arms around her, lifted her off the floor and tackled her hard to the floor with a thud.
Angela exhaled heavily from the blow and appeared to have her breath knocked out of her lungs as she laid still.
Owen didn't care about what he had done. He popped back up to his feet, grabbed his little sister in his arms and yelled at me, "Get to the car! Get to the car! Go! Go!"
I darted out of Olivia's room, and my legs were shaking so bad I thought I might fall over as I ran down the front staircase. Owen passed me on the landing. Before I was halfway down the second set of steps he had thrown open the front door and was waiting for me to catch up.
I ran passed him through the door as he pulled it shut behind him. We reached the Camaro at the same time. I opened my own car door, climbed inside, pulled the door shut and locked it behind me with my trembling fingers. I looked to my boyfriend who was attempting to squeeze into the driver's seat with his sister in his arms.
"Here, hand her to me!" I yelled. Olivia scrambled onto my lap as tears rolled down her cheeks. I kept watch on the front door to see if Mrs. Jasper would appear.
Owen slammed his car door shut and attempted to put his key into the ignition as his hands shook with anger. Once the key slid in he turned the engine over and jammed the transmission into reverse. He slammed his foot onto the gas pedal and the car shot backwards then Owen slammed the car into drive and squealed the tires on the Chevrolet before it accelerated down the driveway. At a high rate of speed he turned left onto the street as the car lurched to the right.
"Slow down, please slow down, Owen you're going to get us killed!" I pleaded.
Olivia mimicked my concern as she cried. "Slow down, slow down."
Owen listened to our pleas, abruptly hit the brakes and pulled the car over to the side of the road. He looked over at us, and asked with agitated concern, "Are you two alright, are you okay?"
Olivia quickly nodded her head. Owen leaned over to wipe her tears away, and I noticed he had been wounded from his mother's lashing.
"Owen, you're bleeding!" I said after seeing the stream of blood running down his hairline from the gash on his head.
"It doesn't matter. I'll be alright."
"Are you sure? It might need stitches." I said hurriedly. Owen ignored my concern.
"I want daddy." Olivia whimpered.
Owen grabbed his little sitter's hand to comfort her. "I know, but he's outta town for the night so you're gonna have to be brave. Can you do that for me?" Olivia nodded her little head as tears continued to fall from her eyes.
My mind began to flash through all of the moments when I was asked to be brave.
Owen kept a hold of Olivia's hand as he sat back in his seat and stared up at the headliner of the car. It was then when I noticed the hot tears of frustration and anger filling his eyes. "I could have beat her silly... when I saw her go after you..." Owen turned his head to look at me. He spoke quietly, "I know it's wrong, but I wanted to kill her... I wanted her out of our lives forever."
I squeezed Olivia tight and hoped she hadn't comprehended Owen's words. I must have been in shock as I failed to find anything to say to him to bring him comfort. I looked at the young man. He was a lot that Johnny Cade was not, but I could have easily been having the same conversation with my old friend.
As the faint sounds of police sirens wailed in the distance Owen told me, "This is why I wish we were older. I wish we could get married, take Olivia and go live someplace far from here. I wish we could just get away from her and her drinking and her temper."
With my thumb, I felt the promise ring on my finger. I sat dumbfounded as the sirens grew louder and presumably closer.
Owen sat up in his seat and looked in his rearview mirror. A few seconds later new sirens screamed loudly as they sped past us. The blue lights from the squad cars illuminated the inside of the Camaro before turning and disappearing up the Jasper family driveway.
Owen turned around in his seat to confirm that his eyes had not fooled him and he had seen the officers pull onto his parent's property. "What the hell?" He exclaimed. "No, no, no! What is she doing? She can't draw attention to this!"
"What's the matter?" Olivia whined softly as she looked in the same direction as her brother.
Owen didn't answer her. Instead, he slammed the car into first gear, cranked the steering wheel all the way to the left and sped the car into a U-turn to go back to his home.
"What are you doing? Owen, are you sure you want to go back?" I asked.
"I can't let her ruin everything for this family! She shouldn't have called the cops. Now everyone will know."
I held Olivia tightly in my lap as Owen took a fast right hand turn to enter his driveway. I used one hand to hold the little girl and the other hand grabbed the dashboard to steady myself. Owen raced up the brick road then the car lurched forward as he brought the car to a quick stop close to the garages.
"Stay in the car, Oliva!" Owen ordered before he hurriedly slammed his door shut, and approached a group of police officers standing near the front door to his home.
I rolled down the car window. That's when I heard the wailing words of Owen's mother who was standing in her night gown under the portico.
"I killed my son! I killed him!" The drunken lady was frantically crying out to the officers who were attempting to calm her down.
I opened the car door, and noticed, one by one, the lights in each room of the home turn on, illuminating the driveway while the officers searched for clues inside. "Stay in the car. I'll be right back." I told Olivia before I climbed out and left the car door wide open.
I stayed closed to the house in the shadows as I slowly approached the scene. I overheard one of the officers speaking to Angela. "Ma'am, what do you mean you killed your son? Your son is right here." The man pointed to Owen.
Angela avoided eye contact with anyone, and continued her drunken rambling. "I killed him. I need to be taken away. I need to go to jail for killing my son!"
I watched as Owen grabbed his mother by the shoulders and tried to shush her to protect the family secret. "I'm right here, Mother. Please just be quiet and we'll go back inside and these officers can go home."
In a controlled rage, Angela looked at her son. "You know what I did. You know what I've done. Tell them to take me away. I need to go away. I need help, Owen! Let them help me!"
Owen nervously attempted to pull his mother back into the house. "Stop it! Let's go inside. You are making a spectacle of yourself out here in your nightgown!"
"I can't..." Angela muttered and then began to sob to the police officer, "I am so ashamed. I can't go on living this way. You need to arrest me. You need to take me away. I need to go to jail for what I have done."
One of the lead officers pulled Owen away from his mother. The men stepped closer to where I was standing. The officer threw his arm around Owen and spoke discreetly. "Son, I know you'll want to keep this whole situation as quite as possible. It seems your mom has had a little too much to drink, so why don't I help you take her inside, put her to bed and sober her up."
"Sure thing, officer." Owen nodded and appeared relieved.
I wanted to yell out that she did kill her child. I wanted the police to know that Owen and Olivia were in grave danger. I took a step forward to speak up as two officers came out of the front door. One of them was carrying the broken tea table leg. "Lieutenant?"
The officer with Owen turned around to listen.
"We didn't find anyone else in the house, but there's a broken child's table upstairs with drops of blood on the toys and carpet and some on this table leg."
I watched Owen throw his head back in disbelief that he had almost covered up the family dispute.
The Lieutenant noticed too. He turned on his flashlight and shined it on my boyfriend's face. He took a close look and highlighted the fresh blood from Owen's wound. "Do you want to tell me about how you got that natty gash on your head?"
Owen reached up to touch the gash then he looked at the blood on his fingers. The boy remained silent, just as Johnny Cade would when he was asked about the abuse he endured at home.
"Cuff her and put her in the car!" The Lieutenant instructed the officer waiting with Angela. He quickly pulled the woman's hands behind her back and placed the hand cuffs on her wrists.
Instantly, Angela's demeanor shifted as she protested. "What do you think you are doing? Unhand me! You can't do this! I'm a respectable woman in this town!"
"Mommy!" Olivia's little voice yelled out as she ran from the car in an attempt to rescue her mother. Before the child could get close I stepped out of the shadows, grabbed her with my arms and stopped her momentum. "Let me go! I want my mommy! I want my mommy!"
The tiny voice crying out pierced my heart. In that moment, I felt exactly the same way. I squatted down and held tightly to the little girl as the officers forced the uncooperative woman into the back seat of the squad car.
I whispered comfort to Olivia, "it's okay. They are going to help her get better. They won't hurt her."
I looked back at Owen who was now the center of attention. The officers had forced him to sit on the front steps as they assessed the wound on his head.
"Ma'am?" Another officer looked down at me. "Whose child is this?"
"That's her mom." I told the officer and nodded to where they were holding the drunken mother.
"Do you know what went on here tonight?" The officer asked.
I sighed deeply with regret and I nodded my head to let him know I had been a witness.
"Why don't you let one of the Officers take care of the little one and you and I go over there and talk."
I noticed the officer take out his notepad. I knew all too well the next steps in this procedure. Another officer coaxed Olivia out of my arms then the officer assigned to me led me over to the front of the Camaro so he could get my side of the story. I leaned up against the car and stared at the ground.
"I'm Officer Ford. What's your name?"
"Scout Curtis."
The officer paused then put his pen under my chin and pulled it up to reveal my face. "I've heard of you."
"I'm sure you have." I said dryly.
"I worked your case when you and your friends came back to Tulsa after that church fire. That was mighty brave of you." The man said sweetly before he patronized me. "Now, I need you to be brave again and tell me exactly what's been going on here tonight."
I felt my head start to spin with worry. I looked across the driveway at the officers questioning my boyfriend. I could still faintly her the boy's mother ranting from inside the squad car. I knew the truth could give Owen the freedom he desired from the hell he was living in. I just hoped he felt the same way too.
_
I rode home in the backseat of the officer's squad car with the lights flashing. I rested my head against the back of the seat and thought more about the mess the evening had become. I remembered Detective Berg arriving on the scene before I had finished telling Officer Ford what I had witnessed. I closed my eyes and recalled the memory. …
"Scout Curtis!" Detective Berg called to me in his New York accent. "Sweetheart, we've got to stop meeting like this."
I remembered Detective Berg from the night that James Young had attacked me. He was kind and friendly, but very matter of fact and professional. He was great at getting the truth, and being sure it could be proven in a court of law. I looked up at the man. "Hello, Detective Berg. As usual, I hadn't planned on getting myself into this situation."
"Yeah, well kiddo, you know the drill. I'm gonna need the truth from you to get to the bottom of this, so why don't you walk me through what happened here tonight." The detective had the officer join us to photograph the evidence I would be pointing out. I reluctantly led the two men into the kitchen the same way Owen and I had entered the house an hour before. I told the men about Owen getting us orange juice. Detective Berg looked at the carafe of orange juice on the counter and told the officer, "snap that". The officer knew he needed to take a picture for evidence. Then the detective noticed two empty wine bottles near the sink. "Snap that and make sure we print that!" he said to the officer so the finger prints could determine who had possibly consumed the alcohol. The officer made a note of the request.
"Before Owen could pour the juice we heard his mother screaming at Olivia." I told the detective.
"Show us where the yelling was coming from." Detective Berg gestured for me to show him what happened next.
I led the group up the back stairway to the little girl's toy room. I told the detective how I had stayed outside the room, but could see where the family members had fought. Detective Berg looked in the room from the doorway. He called out orders to "snap that" when he wanted a picture of the broken child's tea table, the spilled glass of wine on the carpet and the droplets of blood on the floor.
The detective pointed into the room. "You saw Mrs. Jasper hit her son with the table leg?"
"I saw her swing the leg at him. He was trying to protect himself from getting hit. I didn't know she had actually hurt him until we left the house."
"I see." Detective Berg nodded his head and kept his thoughts private for a moment. "I'm curious, why do you think Mrs. Jasper thought she had killed her son if you couldn't even see that she had hit him, and you were less than ten feet away from the attack?"
I felt my nerves jump inside my body as I stayed hush about the Jasper family secret.
"Hmm." The detective said audibly as if to let me know he would be asking me that question again. "What happened next?"
"Owen asked me to take his sister to safety, so I grabbed Olivia and ran with her to her bedroom." I pointed to the next door on the right side of the hallway."
"Let's check it out." Detective Berg told me. We walked down the hallway towards the little girl's bedroom door at the same time the other detective had led Owen up the front staircase.
"I told you, I don't remember anything. I don't know what she is talking about. I'm fine!" Owen proclaimed as he turned down the hallway and saw me with the other detective. Owen froze in his spot. "Scout! Are you okay?"
"No, she's not okay! She just witnessed her boyfriend being beaten by his mother, who now thinks he's dead." Detective Berg was disgusted with Owen's uncooperative attitude. "Get him out of here, he's intimidating my witness!"
The detective guided me into Olivia's bedroom before he looked back at my boyfriend. "You don't remember anything? You mean to tell me you're gonna let this fifteen year old girl have to suffer the burden of being the only witness again like she has had to before? You're gonna leave her all alone to tell the truth?" Detective Berg shifted his weight and voiced his disgust with Owen's uncooperative behavior. "Hot shot running back! Let the little girl do all the work! You call that love? Cause I don't! Get him out of here!" Detective Berg demanded before he stepped into Olivia's room with me, and slammed the door behind him.
"Scout!" Owen called out in painful desperation. I could hear the agony in his voice as he dealt with wanting to be protective of me and his family's secret.
"Maybe he doesn't remember. It all happened so fast." I suggested.
Detective Berg gave me a disappointed look. "It all happened fast for you too. Right? You've had no problem telling me the truth. Am I right? You are telling me the truth, aren't you?"
My head began to throb as I answered, "yes sir."
Outside the door I heard Owen begin to sob. I heard the other detective encourage Owen to tell the truth about why his mother thinks she killed her son. The other detective parroted what Detective Berg had said. "If you aren't man enough to tell us the truth I'm sure the girl in there will, or maybe the littler one downstairs will tell us. What do you think? Should I drag her up here and make her tell us what happened?"
I stood silent inside the room with Detective Berg, but I really wanted to throw the door open and yell at the detectives to be nicer because they had no idea of the severity of the situation. Then I heard Owen begin to cry. Detective Berg put his hand up to keep me from saying anything while he eaves dropped.
Outside the door the other detective continued to pressure Owen. "I'm just not understanding. You seem pretty alive to me. Heck, you even have all your tinker toys and trains out to play with, so why would your mother be thinking you were dead?"
Owen didn't answer.
"Maybe it's time to ask your little friend in there." The detective walked across the hall and opened the door to Oliva's room. He stepped in, grabbed my arm and pulled me out in the hall.
I looked down at Owen who was sitting against the wall with his head buried in his arms while he cried tears of frustration.
The detective stood in front of me and looked me square in the eye. "You know the truth, don't you?" I didn't answer, but my eyes filled with tears and he was trained well enough to know that I did. "I'll tell you what's gonna happen. I'm gonna put you in the back of a patrol car, haul you down to the station and question you there. I bet after a night of no sleep you'll be more than willing to tell me what happened to drive that poor mother crazy and what happened to the supposed dead son. Berg! I'm taking this one with me." The detective pulled me down the hallway towards the stairs.
"Leave her alone!" Owen yelled out and jumped to his feet.
The detective stopped and the two of us looked back at the boy.
Owen tried to control his sobbing as he blurted out. "She was drunk, and she killed my brother!"
The detective didn't release his grip on my arm as the two of us stood in the hallway and listened as the young man clearly recalled every moment of that horrific day in detail to the detectives. Detective Berg took notes, and when Owen had finished sharing the truth everyone could tell the boy was emotionally exhausted.
Detective Berg apologized to Owen for badgering him. Owen fumed and didn't acknowledge the apology. The detective looked down the hall at me. "Scout, finish walking me through what happened here tonight. Detective Meyer, get Mr. Jasper downstairs and into an patrol car to have his wound tended to at the hospital.
"I'm not going to the hospital!" Owen stubbornly insisted.
Detective Berg told him. "Yes you are. We'll see to it that Scout gets a ride home when we're done, and your grandfather will be here soon to look after your sister."
The other detective let go of my arm and walked over to grab ahold of Owen, but the boy pulled away and told him to leave him alone. Owen yelled that everyone needed to leave him alone because he was capable of doing things on his own. In anger, Owen stormed past me and darted down the stairs without another word to anyone.
Detective Berg gave me a little hug and let me know that he felt everything was going to be okay. I didn't believe him, but he didn't know that. As instructed I finished telling him what had happened in Oliver and Olivia's bedrooms that evening. When I walked out of the Jasper home every one of the family members were gone. All that remained was Owen's Camaro in the driveway with the passenger door still wide open. …
I lifted my head up from the back of the seat in the patrol car and wiped my eyes again. I looked out the window as we passed by the DX station where my brother worked. I knew I would be home soon and as always, my brothers would be waiting.