Chapter Twenty Eight
It was just over forty miles to Oregon State Penitentiary and we drove most of the way in silence. I fiddled with the car radio for a while but in the end switched it off. Ace wore dark sunglasses and barely looked at me until we pulled up outside the dark forbidding prison.
When he didn't make a move to get out, I glanced sideways at him.
"You want me to come in with you?"
Ace lit up a customary cigarette and blew the smoke out of the drivers window.
"I ain't sure I'm going in."
I let that comment sit for a while and sat patiently until he smoked his cigarette down to the butt and tossed it out.
"So where did you tell the faggot you were going?"
His question caught me unaware and I felt a wave of guilt flood over me. I'd told Chris I was going to the cemetery. It was the only feasible excuse I could use as to why I was busy and couldn't see him today. I hadn't told a soul about where I was going or the deal I had made with Ace. I had badly wanted to tell Gordie but I had given my word to Ace and besides, I didn't want Gordie to have to lie to Chris.
"Don't call him that."
"Call him what? Faggot?"
"Stop it, Ace." My voice got harder and he glanced over at me in annoyance.
"Okay…so where did you tell 'Christopher' you were going? See, no matter how I say it he still sounds like a faggot."
"You say that again and you're on your fucking own, Merrill. I mean it!" I snapped.
"You think I give a shit?" Ace yelled back. "You think I even wanna see that cock sucker? It's bad enough he drove the old lady away but then he had to get himself banged up when he was the only fucking family I had left?"
I swallowed, trying to gulp back my anger, trying to remember the sad sullen fifteen year old boy Ace had been when his father had gone to jail. He'd been hurt just like I had.
"The things you regret most are things you don't do," I told him. "Not the things you do. You cant take it back if you don't visit him and he dies, Ace."
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
"I don't owe him anything."
"No, you don't," I agreed. "But you owe it to you."
We sat in silence for another minute before he got out of the car and slammed the door shut. I stayed where I was, unsure if he wanted me to follow. Ace disappeared from the drivers door and I jumped when he appeared at my window, an irritated expression on his face.
"What you waiting for? A written invitation?"
I smiled wryly at him as my fingers closed around the door handle.
"Sure, Ace. I'll come inside with you."
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Butch Merrill had aged twenty years since I'd seen him last.
He'd never been particularly tall, he was around Ace's height, but he'd had stature, presence and big rippling muscles that could tear a man in two. And had in fact. In a dirty dive bar just outside of town, a young truck driver had gotten into an argument with the wrong man. When the bar had erupted in chaos, the fight carried on out into the street and a particularly hard blow to that young truck driver's skull had ended his life. And in a way it had ended Butch's life too.
"How ya doin', kid?"
I couldn't believe the shrivelled old man in the orange jumpsuit was really Butch. He held out his hand warmly to Ace but Ace ignored it and dropped down in the seat opposite him. I nervously extended my own hand to save Butch the embarrassment and it was only then that he looked at me for the first time.
"I know you," he said, shaking my hand roughly. "You're Moira Willis' kid."
"Yes, sir," I said. "It's nice to meet you."
"This your lady?" Butch asked Ace as I slid uneasily into a seat. Butch stayed standing and Ace chewed on his toothpick, not answering but not taking his eyes from his father.
"We're friends," I said hurriedly.
Butch cast a slow look between us before settling himself down.
"You sure have grown since I see you last, boy." Butch's smile was wistful and I suddenly felt heart sorry that he was going to die in jail.
"It's been a while," Ace responded sarcastically.
"Oh." Butch's smile faded. "You ain't come to see me then. You've come 'cause I'm dying. And I guess you think you might miss out on something. Well, I ain't got no will, boy, and I got nothing to leave you."
I felt Ace stiffen beside me and slid my hand onto his arm in reassurance. He was beginning to shake and when I looked at him I could see the pure unadulterated rage in his eyes.
"Leave me? You think I want anything from you, you sack of shit?" Ace jerked forward, his low voice hissing at Butch like a snake. "You ain't never given me nothing and I ain't never fucking asked. Everything I have I've earned. By myself."
Butch snorted.
"And what in the hell do you have, pip squeak? A car you can barely afford to run and the daughter of the town whore?"
It took me a few seconds to realise he was talking about me and worse yet talking about my mother. But when I did I lunged across the table. Ace caught me just in time.
"Hey, settle down over there!" A guard barked in our direction. Ace shoved me back into my seat and glared at his father. He kept his arm out in front of me and I wasn't sure if he was protecting Butch or me.
"Moira Willis is dead."
"Eh?" The color literally drained from Butch's face as Ace's words sank in. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times and I wondered if it was the shock of my Mom being dead or the connection to his own mortality that momentarily stunned him.
"That's right, she's dead. Just like you will be soon. Don't expect me at your fucking funeral." Ace stood up and walked right out of there, signalling the guard to open the door.
I stood to follow but Butch's strained voice stopped me in my tracks..
"Hey, Moira's girl. Don't go. I'm sorry, kid. About your mom."
I had felt ready to claw his eyes out seconds ago, but looking at his pained expression and empty eyes, I felt the anger start to ebb away.
"Sit down, Moira's girl. Tell me about him. I know I don't deserve it…" He looked down at the table then and the gesture was so Ace, avoiding my eyes after any show of emotion. I don't know why, but it was this action that made me sit back down.
"It's Nina," I said.
He glanced up in surprise.
"What?"
"My name. It's Nina. What do you want to know?" I didn't know how my voice was so steady or why it was that I wanted to make Butch Merrill feel better. I was only there in the first place to keep Ace from killing Chris but something inside me ached when I looked at the wasted life in front of me.
"I don't know. I hear things, you know. And I've seen him once or twice. But them eyes never give anything away. Cold just like his Mama's."
It wasn't the same Butch talking that I remembered. He had been more like Ace; tough, uncompromising, the strong silent type. But maybe jail and a terminal illness changed a person.
"He's not good at showing emotion," I said carefully.
"I always wondered what kind of man he'd turn into. If he'd be like me. Can he look after himself? Can he handle his liquor? Do the women like him?"
I stared at Butch Merrill for a long time, studying the earnest look on his face, suddenly seeing how it was that Ace had become so messed up. Those were his father's wishes for him. Not good job prospects, kindness and a fulfilling relationship but the ability to fight, drink and bed numerous women. Well, Ace had made the cut alright.
"He can look after himself," I said evenly. "He can drink and he's never had a problem attracting women."
A childish pride appeared in Butch's eyes and he leaned back, almost content looking.
"At least I made him a man before I went away. I just wish he didn't hate me so damn much."
I didn't respond.
"I wasn't the best father but I tried my best, even after his Mama left. Felt like my right arm had been severed when they split us up."
Butch's version of events sounded like Ace had been removed from his care rather than left to fend for himself after Butch went to jail. Ace had been a mess when it had happened.
As my mind drifted to Ace I realised he was probably waiting outside for me. Either that, or he'd left me behind.
"I have to go," I told Butch, standing up once more. "I'm sorry you're sick, Mr Merrill."
He stood up too and held out a hand to me as if to shake it. When I reached out, he closed my small hand in his two rough ones.
"Take care of him for me, kid. Take care of him and I'll be sure to say hello to your Mama for you."
My eyes started to fill with tears as did his. When he finally let go of my hand, my vision was so blurred I almost fell over my chair. It occurred to me that Butch would die thinking Ace didn't care about him at all.
I turned back to see him crossing the room back towards the cells, a sad slow shuffle with the weight of the world on his shoulders.
"Mr Merrill?"
He paused and looked back at me and I struggled to decide whether what I was about to say was a comfort or a betrayal.
"He still wears your St Christopher."
Butch closed his eyes and when he opened them, the tears ran freely down his weathered cheeks. I could see in his face that what I had revealed had been more than the right thing to do.
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The journey home was even quieter than the journey there. Ace left me a street away from Gordie's and didn't answer when I said goodbye. I watched his car drive away, feeling oddly guilty like maybe I should have said something reassuring on the drive home. But what was there to say? Butch was an asshole and Butch was dying. Nothing I could say would change that for Ace.
Chris and Gordie were playing cards when I climbed into Gordie's room.
"Hey. Where ya been? I was getting worried about you." Chris looked up at me as i pulled myself inside then he frowned in Gordie's direction. "Keep your eyes on your own hand, Lachance."
"I just wanted some alone time." I tried to smile as i saw the concern cross Chris' face. I was the worst girlfriend in the world.
"Are we playing or not, Chambers?" Gordie demanded. "Don't forget what's at stake, asshole."
"What you betting on?" I asked, coming closer and perching on the end of the bed.
"Whoever loses has to do tomorrow's math homework and let the other copy," Gordie answered. "Had you got here a half hour earlier you woulda have to have played too. But I guess you can copy anyway."
"II did it already. You guys can copy from me."
Chris smiled approvingly and Gordie tossed down his cards.
"Good 'cause I had nothing anyway."
"After all that bullshit you just talked?" Chris demanded. "You are so full of shit, Lachance. You'd give Teddy a run for his money in bluffing."
I laughed along as the two of them began trading thumps in the arms but my conscience was niggling away at me. Not only did I feel terrible for lying to both Chris and Gordie, my sense of morality was also telling me I shouldn't have left Ace alone either.
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A.N: Who's still reading?