On the Edge of Wakefulness
Chapter 22
Kevin pulled open the door to Llanview Psychiatric Hospital, Jedediah next to him. There was a winter chill outside and the hospital air was welcome warmth. It had been several days since Jedediah saw Todd last and he was nervous. Damn near had the shakes, he was so edgy about it. They were going to ask Todd about Phillip Manning and hoped for clear answers. Tim also wanted to talk to Jedediah about that very long night during which he'd found his father wandering the streets of Llanview. Jedediah had been very quiet about it, sharing nothing with Kevin.
Kevin put his hand on Jed's shoulder as they waited for the elevator. He gave it a squeeze. "You alright, buddy?" he asked gently.
"What do you think?" Jedediah said, shaking off Kevin's affection.
"I know. It'll be okay."
"How can you say that? I've stopped expecting anything normal anymore." The elevator door swished open and both stepped in, a couple of others joining them. Too hip, too much of an attitude. Must be part of the substance abuse group, Jedediah thought, recalling his short stint of employment at the hospital. They're taking the tour but their expressions said they had no intention of getting clean. Sure enough, they got off at the drug rehabilitation ward housed on the floor below Todd's. The door closed and the very next moment they were at the fourth level, one floor below the lock-down ward.
"Tim said to meet him here," Kevin murmured, "meeting room 4-A. 4-A...where are you?"
Jedediah walked alongside, looking at a few people who had their room doors open, one kicking back with a book, another sleeping. One woman glared at him from her bed, as she picked at her fingernails. He looked away. The nursing staff was busy with paperwork, on the telephones. This just wasn't what he pictured when he used to dream of meeting his "Angel Daddy," as his mom referred to him. He did imagine someone tall, like Todd, but heroic, a man with a kind voice and kind eyes who was so full of love that it would just pour out of him. He had imagined running to this person as a child, the man lifting him in the air, and swinging him around, so happy he'd be at meeting his son. He thought his father would be brimming with pride. Stupid image probably from movies but one he hung onto anyway.
The sad truth was that he didn't know what Todd thought of him. Dude was so wrapped up in his own trauma and mental illness, so enveloped in those drug cravings and his walking nightmare of a life, that he couldn't see beyond his walled-in existence. It made Jedediah feel like a… like a nothing. Then he felt guilty. The world doesn't revolve around you, Chant, he thought to himself.
"Here we are," Kevin said.
"Wonderful," Jedediah grumbled.
Kevin looked into the opened door and saw Dr. Graham sitting at a single large table in the center of the conference room, working on a file folder. Taking notes. The doctor smiled when he spotted Kevin and Jed filing in through the door. "Hey, glad you made it," he said. He eyed the younger of the two men, seeing immediately his discomfort. Glanced at Kevin a second then asked, "You hanging in there, okay, Jed?"
When Jed didn't answer, eyes glued to a couple of nurses outside the room, glued to their conversation about a television show, Kevin chimed in, shrugging and saying quietly, "Been kinda to himself. The other night was rough. Won't talk about it."
"Maybe we'll get some information today."
Kevin nodded, then moved to the table, sitting. "Mom said Todd hasn't been doing much of anything either, hardly talking, not reacting. Like not here. That true?"
"More or less accurate," Tim said noncommittally. "He's shut-down a bit in self-protection, yeah, but he's not disassociated. He hasn't had any flashbacks like the ones he was having before. He drifts but… he hasn't been..." Tim' s voice trailed, looking at Jedediah's face. The kid was listening now. The doctor gazed at a matching set of Todd's eyes. Uncanny the similarity of the two, their faces. Only Jed had a softness to him, a little bit of sweet in the bitter. The doctor smiled at him. He had almost mentioned that Todd wasn't self-harming but that was out-of-bounds information so he cut himself off.
"Well, suffice it to say this week has been quiet for him, too. He's only been with Viki and me. Hasn't seen Téa, refuses to see her. The quiet isn't going to last much longer, though. He'll have to start going through the emotions of what he's experienced. He'll have to start feeling his losses. Speaking of which, how are you feeling, Jed?"
Tim paused after his query to watch Jedediah pull out a chair noisily and plop himself down on it, slouching in typical teenage fashion. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a stick of gum, unwrapping it and sticking it into his mouth. He wadded up the paper and threw it into a small metal trash can. He glanced at Tim and Kevin. Rubbed his hair back tiredly.
"How I'm doing. Right." He lifted a shoulder, woundedness at the core of him. The night with Todd was still bouncing around inside of him. So many points of recall but mostly… the story. He stared at the table and realized he felt like puking. Could see the whole thing, the flying barf, the men jumping back. A real doozy. After a couple more seconds, he shoved the gum to the side of his mouth and eyed the doctor and Kevin. Looked back and forth… and another kind of vomit came out of him.
"Where should I start? Maybe with how all my life my mom told me about this great person who was my dad, angel daddy she called him. And... when I finally found him, I learn he's a suicidal raging drug addict who raped more than a couple of chicks - because hell, why stop at just one? - who has a tendency to hallucinate and seriously believes he's SATAN. Damn, just what I was counting on after all these years of waiting. Oh and yeah – I learned all about the night of my conception – about how his father came home, found him and my mom fucking, so he beat my mother and raped the hell out of him. His father… raped him. Yeah, forgot that part." Jedediah swallowed his gum. Looked down at shaking hands. "I'm doing fabo. Fucking fabo."
Kevin murmured under his breath, "Jesus Christ."
Tim nodded, keeping his eyes on the suffering kid in front of him, and said in the same soft voice, "Pretty awful."
Before Kevin could even process the tale on its own terms, he reached across and grabbed Jed hard by the shoulder. "I'm sorry, kid." He felt so damn bad that Jed had to learn about his own history this way. No wonder he'd been quiet. Kevin sighed. Now the story. Well. Motherfucker. That certainly explained some of Todd's sociopath behavior. Made him sick. Who wouldn't be completely insane after an experience like that? Who wouldn't be raging mad at the world?
"You're sorry? Sorry doesn't even begin to cut it. And all that happened the night I was created. Bodes well for me, huh? They were fourteen years old. 'Well shit. Nice to meet you, too, Dad.'" He turned and kicked a chair in front of him, shoving the thing against the wall. Kevin jerked at the violence of it. Deserving… but the power in that kick was… bothersome. Maybe because Manning DNA was showing up.
Tim stood up and took a chair next to Jedediah, sitting down close. "Do you want some water?" he asked in a soft voice.
"No," Jed choked, now on the verge of tears. Man, that shit just took over all of a sudden-like. He had slept much of the week away, tagging along with Kevin to the Banner, getting established with a high school independent graduation program. Getting to know Viki some. Listening to music some. Anything to avoid thinking about Todd. He didn't spent five minutes on that night. He'd been smoking way too much weed, too. Got himself a dealer and everything in his tour of Llanview at the lunch hour. Couldn't believe Kevin didn't notice. He wished he could light up right now. Right here...
Tim said in his gentle voice, "It's okay, Jed, to be angry, hurt, scared. That's a nightmare."
"It's not okay. I will never be okay with this. Not with anything I feel." Jedediah leaned forward and held his head in his hands, his elbows near his knees. Sniffling.
"What hurts the most?"
"Knowing. Knowing what my mom went through. What she saw..."
"Yup. Pretty terrible stuff. Anything else?"
Jed remained quiet, coming up for air. He leaned back in the chair again. "I feel like my whole life was a lie. I was made on a night that destroyed people. Two people died ... my mother, literally – my father, slowly. I'm the remains. What's left over. And I didn't know. I never knew."
"How could your mom have told you?" The doctor was leaning towards Jed, a hand on the kid's arm. "You were eight years old the last time you saw her. You were too young. Nobody knew that story except Peter Manning, your mother, Todd..."
"Maybe she could have left something ... anything ... to warn me. 'Don't tell,' the motto of the Chant family. Even my own mother kept the truth from me. Yet all along I thought she was the one who told the truth."
Sighing, Tim absolutely understood where this child was coming from. He had seen it many times with all kinds of mental illness; he knew the frustration and disappointment that a child feels in dealing with a parent's problems. Problems neither the parent nor the child have any control over. How often the child gets lost in the struggle.
Jedediah suddenly laughed aloud, behind the tears. "You know, I just realized the most ironic thing."
"What is that?"
"Todd. He's never lied to me. Satan told me the truth. About the rapes he committed, about how he treated his wives, and now about what his father did. I would bet my life that if I went up to him right now… even now as crazy as he is… and asked him anything, he'd tell me the truth. Isn't that weird?"
"No," Kevin intervened. "Manning's whole life was a lie, too. He's always hated hypocrisy in people… it's kind of his soap box. Not that he's above lying to manipulate… but… yeah. I'm not surprised that he's had nothing but the truth for you."
Tim then asked, "Can I offer some small bit of consolation to you? Something that isn't a lie?"
Jed shrugged again, staring at the floor.
"When Todd first started opening up to me, his main focus was his daughter. She was his grounding force, the only thing that kept him here, alive. Now, since he found out about you, you've gotten into the mix. He has yet another grounding force in his life. Your name is in his journal. You. Now, I'm telling you this to show you a glimpse into his heart, not to put responsibility for him on you. You'll occupy a place in his heart no matter what you do. Reject him, go away. He accepts that; he expects it. You'll be with him no matter what he does. Whether he lives, dies, however he chooses to live his life."
Kevin heard the implication: Tim was referring to another suicide attempt. Reality. This ride was far from over.
Jedediah directed his gaze to the doctor. Massively confused. He hated Todd, yet he wanted to be acknowledged by him. Hated everything that he was yet he understood it. He didn't want anything more to happen to him. Yet underneath everything, he still didn't know if this monster had anything to do with the disappearance of Michelle. Although, he doubted it. Admittedly.
"However he chooses to live," Jedediah said quietly, moving away from his tangle of feelings. Relapse. "He did find some drugs in his room at the penthouse, a package."
"Jed, you never said anything about that!" Kevin spat, exasperated.
"I took it from him… and threw it out at your place."
"Oh my God, if we'd gotten pulled over...oh my God." Kevin closed his eyes, now worried about Jed. He did smoke marijuana on occasion, Kevin saw that for himself. This kid… "You're sure you threw it out? Didn't keep it for yourself?"
Jed flashed shock at Kevin's gall, "I hate speed! 'Course I threw it out. Check your trash can in your room."
"In my room?! And how do you know it's speed? Jesus!"
Jed grinned but then pulled back. "I'm sorry. I'd actually forgotten that I had it until I woke up later, after I slept for a while. I tasted it. That's how I know."
Kevin grumbled and hissed under his breath, "Unbelievable."
"It's not that big a deal. It was hardly anything. Just a bump. I wasn't really that surprised that Todd was an addict. He kinda screamed addict from the moment I met him."
"Well, as a matter of fact, drug abuse is very common for people like him," Tim explained. "I haven't explored that with Todd, the exact why's of his particular use, but I suspect he used the methamphetamine to avoid sleeping. According to Téa he suffered tremendously from nightmares during the time they were together, ones that were very real, highly vivid. Once his physical limit for staying awake ended, he turned to drugs to help stay awake. His suicide attempt happened, most likely, after a very long period of being awake. Perhaps as long as 5 or 6 days. Maybe even longer. By that time he was completely delusional, resulting in...well...we know what the result was."
"I think...one thing..." Jedediah stopped, feeling uncomfortable with expressing any kind of concern about Todd. He didn't want to admit anything. But, he needed to know.
"Go ahead, I'm listening," Tim said.
"The drug thing; as soon as he stepped out of this place the other night, he went for those drugs. Which means when you let him out or if he leaves here too early, before you can… cure him, he's probably gonna do the same thing, go back to it."
"You're right - his battle with drug abuse isn't over. Like I told you, this whole week he's shut-down. Cut himself off from feeling anything. It's not going to last, though. He's going to start feeling the pain again. He'll be mourning the losses in his life and he'll feel very intense emotions about what's happened to him. He very well may turn to illegal drugs to help him out. All we can hope is to educate him, to encourage him to continue his process with us, to continue treatment. But we don't control his life. It's the patient's decision."
Kevin spoke up, "What can we do?"
"Just be supportive, do your best. Like I said, it's nothing you can control – Todd has to decide how he's going to deal with his pain. Pain that's going to hit him hard when his self-imposed safe distance starts to fail. And it will fail."
Kevin was visibly shaken suddenly, the thought that this could be a "forever" thing was too much. He so worried for Viki, for Starr. And now for Jed. "So… can we talk to him about the other night? Is he willing to talk to us?" He wanted to move forward, get Jed home and get his mind off of all this.
"Sure," Tim said. "I told him you were coming, that you had questions about Michelle. Like I said, he's pretty cut-off, so he might actually be able to talk with you without losing it. First though, I want to ask you, Jed, something about the other night."
"Okay."
"Did you two run into anyone at the park? He didn't say which park, just said that he saw someone and that you did, too."
"Yeah. We saw a guy, he was like Todd's age, maybe older. Creepy dude."
"So the two of you did see someone."
"Oh yeah. I…uh...was riding my bike and when I looked up, I saw Todd in the street. Damn near hit him. He was running..." At that, Tim took a breath, reminded of his own experience with his friend, Jonathan. That was how he had died. Jedediah continued, "I had to brake hard and he tripped. I...was...so pissed! But then I saw he was...scared. And then this weird guy came up to us...said a couple of things and...Todd...he wasn't just scared, he was terrified. We got out of there fast – Todd just climbed on my bike. The guy screamed something at him. I thought for sure Todd knew him – I just followed his lead, figuring if he was scared of this guy, there was a good reason. That and my own feelings about the guy. Like I said, he was weird. Creepy. Todd never said who he was."
"Okay, good. I was concerned that Todd might have been hallucinating so… thank you."
"You haven't made up your mind, then, about him being...more seriously ill?" Kevin asked.
"No. It's inconclusive at this point but I'm not seeing any increase in the delusions. We'll keep at it. Well, you've told me what I needed to know, so let's get Todd."
Jedediah swallowed down a spurt of fear, his palms sweating. Shuddered. Tim left the room and as soon as he did, a wild-eyed Kevin rounded on Jed. "The next time you find drugs on Todd, or at school, or wherever, you don't touch them! You simply call the cops, got me? None of this taking it into your own hands!"
"Look at me, Kevin. Take one good long look. Now, do I look like the kind of person who calls cops when he finds someone's stash?!"
Kevin shook his head. Thanked god he had no kids of his own. ""Jesus… can you just… do this one thing for me?"
"Yeah...yeah...whatever ..." Deep inside, he sort of liked it when Kevin got tough with him. Reminded him of a father. One he never really had. Because he had always known Beatrice's husband was not his real father, he never took him as such. Never treated him as such. So despite there being a "father" in the house, he never really felt he had one.
Kevin and Jedediah both turned around to the sound of people. The doctor was hustling into the room, Todd lagging behind him. He seemed to have cleaned up a little, but his expression was wary, hard. He wore loose-fitting jeans, hands buried into the pockets of a zipped hoodie over a flannel shirt, a t-shirt beneath everything. He wore suede slippers, an expensive-looking gift probably from Viki. His gold-brown hair was brushed back into a rather long ponytail. He was partially shaven, the beginnings of a goatee showing. He stood in the doorway, judging everyone. His eyes were very sharp and directed. For being so ill, for having been so terribly disconnected and out of it at the Penthouse… Todd Manning had just shown up in that doorway.
Jedediah and Kevin both let out a collective sigh.
Tim decided to break the obvious tension in the room, "Why don't you sit down, Todd? Kevin and Jed both really wanted to talk to you about Michelle. Like I told you, I think it will be good for you."
After a moment of him turning around and gazing down the hallway like he was contemplating leaving this popsicle stand, Todd moved to the table. With his foot hooking a leg of a chair, he dragged it out quite a ways from the table and sat down heavily on it. He sat with his knees apart, slouched in the chair, his head back. He crossed his arms.
"So talk," he said, eyes on the ceiling.
Jedediah bit down on his teeth, screaming at Todd's arrogance. Arrogance in spite of his illness. A "screw you" to his illness and a "screw you" to anyone who cared about him. Tim on the other hand was a little surprised at Todd's behavior and it dawned on him that this might be anger, or resentment. or defense. Whatever the source of emotion, it was the most animated Todd had been all week. Meaning the distance might be closing. Oh, yay, Tim thought to himself. Just under the wire with these questions.
Keep it together, kiddo, he thought, before asking, "You okay to chat with us?"
Todd sniffed, shrugged, and sat up a little straighter, just barely, regarding Kevin. Something in the air always got sucked out in their meetings. Never failed. And clearly his illness didn't take anything away from the powerful fuck-you he managed to convey. It only got worse. Todd gave seated Kevin a long dragging glance, cold eyes all along tense limbs, nestling at Kevin's crotch a few seconds as he casually licked his lips. Raised his eyebrows slightly when he landed on Kevin's eyes. Jesus, Kevin wanted to punch him. Realized that Todd had always done that, made things sexual with anyone he wanted to intimidate and only now did he realize just how effective it was at getting a man off his goddamn game. Fucker. This had to be self-defense, though, old protection.
Clearing his throat, trying to remember what the hell he wanted to ask… indeed thrown off his game, Kevin breathed to calm himself and decided to go easy. "Todd," he said, "the last time you and I spoke was before the intervention, it was the day...you...uh..."
"The day I tried to kill myself," Todd said, completing Kevin's sentence.
"Uh...yeah. You left me the report about Michelle's death. That it was a suicide. That she jumped into the New River." Todd's eyes flew to Jedediah, softening only a tad.
"Yeah, so?" He dug his hands into the pockets of his jacket, his jaw tightening.
"Well, I did research like you wanted, so I could complete the story about her. I went to West Virginia, went to interview Michelle's mother, Beatrice. That's where I met Jedediah. Before he came here. The moment I saw him, I knew he was yours. I knew you and Michelle were close but didn't know more than that. He looks so much like you it was easy to put two and two together. I promise you, I had no plans to bring him here, no plans to spring him on you. It just happened. Jedediah contacted me, told me he was Michelle's son and not her brother like the report said. When we met, I told him about you, about who you were."
"You gotta question in all this?" His knee started bouncing, Tim noting it. Keep it together, keep it together...
Kevin kept on with the story. "While I was in Fayetteville, the place where Michelle supposedly jumped, I found some inconsistencies in the police report. First, the report said there were three witnesses to her suicide, but the file only had two witness statements. The third statement was missing and her name wasn't mentioned anywhere. Secondly, the search for Michelle's body was cut short. It maybe lasted a couple of days at the most. Maybe a week. They searched only a short distance. Not near enough to turn her up. And not near enough to what was normal for a missing young woman."
The armor was cracking. Too easily. Hearing about Michelle… too strong a sword. And the armor was thin, like paper. He wasn't looking at Kevin as he ran a hand over his hair, pulling at the pony tail. The knee kept bouncing and his breathing shifted ever so noticeably. What he didn't say was that the rape played in the background of his mind like a pornographic loop. The agonized sick days after. He adjusted himself in the chair to alleviate the cutting pain in his gut, physical pain from being ripped apart that had taken a long time to heal. He gritted his teeth. Black, ugly, soul-wrenching sorrow.
Shhh. Don't cry. Don't tell. If she didn't tell, why should you?
"'Cause I'm different," he mumbled.
Tim watched him carefully, Kevin having quieted. Todd wasn't looking at anything, but rather at nothing, his eyes not clear anymore. Not sharp. All that arrogance had rolled away. He rubbed his face with one hand, then pulled at the pony-tail again. Seconds he sat in the silence of the room. He seemed to come to himself. He glanced at everyone, his face hardening. "What are you looking at? Talk already!"
Kevin hesitated, glancing at Tim for permission who gave the go-ahead. So he continued, clearing his throat, "Ok. Umm...when Jed and I went to look at the jumping point, we found more inconsistencies. The benches supposedly from where the witnesses saw the jump take place were too far away. There was no way they could have seen her jump. No way. Then, after doing a little research, we discovered who the third witness was – purely by accident – Hannah Plankett, the daughter of one of the witnesses. By the way, both listed witnesses died. One from cancer, one from an unsolved car accident."
Todd had grown inpatient, screwing up mouth as if there were a bad taste. With spitting exasperation, he said, "So what the fuck are you trying to say?! That she was killed? That someone killed Michelle?"
"Yes. Hannah wrote us a letter and she said exactly that...she said, Phillip Manning killed her. You know him?"
The name hit Todd like a brick to the side of his head. He huffed hard and then seemed to stop breathing. Rounded eyes fixed on Kevin. Lips parted. A look of shock on his face.
Georgie Porgie, pudding and pie, kissed the boy and made him cry.
Todd stared at Kevin for what seemed like the longest time. Not saying anything, not reacting. Then his eyes drifted and he rocked his head back, breathing out raggedly, rubbing his already smoothed hair with both hands. Suddenly, he pulled his legs to him and stood, breathing a little harder than moments before. Not sure where to go. He glanced all around the room, a hand on the edge of the table… scratched his nails on the wood. Panting hard now.
Tim sucked in air, too. Oh, shit, he thought.
Show time.
"Todd," the doctor said assertively, "What's going on? Do you know Phillip Manning?"
"Oh…oh... yeah," Todd said in a breathy way. "Phillip." He was pacing the room, hunched over, getting into a twitchy stride. Tim knew he was feeling physical pain, the sensation of having just been assaulted.
"Cousin," he muttered.
That girl. That poor girl. Oh God. Do something! I can't move. I can't breathe.
Kevin and Jedediah looked at each other a second, Kevin seeing how worried the young man was, but they both looked back at Todd again. Jedediah straightened up in his chair, his whole body tensing.
Todd then stopped in his tracks. Said in a firm voice, directing a concentrated stare at Kevin, "That bastard killed her?"
Kevin said, "Yeah. That's what Hannah wrote and we don't have any reason to doubt her – her story's really convincing. Supposedly he chased Michelle out of the woods to the ledge, hitting her. The witnesses heard her scream and then nothing. Phillip came running past them. It was pretty obvious it wasn't a suicide. We haven't interviewed Hannah personally yet – just have her letter. Our question is…what do you know about Phillip?"
All everyone could hear was Todd's ragged breathing as he paced, a caged lion again. His face was tense, features pulled with worry, fear, disbelief… all of it played out openly. Back and forth he walked, a mood building, intensifying. Such terrible quiet – an answer was coming. Had to put it into words.
Shhh… don't tell, don't tell...
"A sick ... bastard ... of a human being. He and my father ... they ..." He looked away, not wanting to remember this. Faltered once or twice. "Shit, shit, shit…" His voice was pitched, almost a whimpering. He hunched over again, as if being hit. Grunting at the seeming hit.
Tim was concerned, glancing down at his medical bag where he had one kick-ass sedative just in case this deteriorated further. Nobody said anything, figuring Todd had enough voices in his own head to drown out anything they'd say.
Instead of turning once at the end of the room like he'd been doing, he continued and walked straight to the farthest corner and sat hard on the floor. Slammed his knees up and covered his face and head with his arms. I don't want to feel this. Don't let me feel this. The fact that he was shaking was painfully obvious. He was groaning, a low deep quiet sound that dragged out.
Jedediah was highly stressed at witnessing the shift in mental state. He had his hand over his mouth and eyes wide and afraid. Tim quickly and quietly told him, "Jed, take a walk. Go to the lobby. Get a soda." He smiled tenderly, encouraging.
Kevin agreed. Jedediah was hesitant because he wanted to hear the story first hand, but after watching Todd a few more minutes, he finally got up. He'd get the information later – this was too hard to watch. He took a last glance at his father and walked out of the room.
There is perfection in imperfection. You have repented by facing moments of choice and choosing not to rape again. You are living a life of repentance.
"No, no I'm not. It's always there ... I will always want to do that when pushed. It's there." Don't. Shhh. Don't tell. Todd started rocking himself, whispering to himself, closing his eyes tightly. Banging against the wall behind him. "Don't make me do this…I don't want to see it anymore..." he whined.
Tim kneeled down next to him, "Todd, talk to me. What happened? What did Phillip do?"
"I'm so tired … I don't want to …"
"Telling your secrets helps you."
"It's sick, so sick." He laughed, the chuckle ending with a groan, his face streaked with tears. "Oh god, one's just like the other ... just as sick, just as fucked up. Does it ever fucking END?!"
"Nobody's going to judge you for what happened – whatever Phillip did wasn't your fault."
He looked very intently at Tim for the longest time, biting his lip, shivering as if it was 20 degrees in the room. Tim kept saying softly, over and over, "It's going to be okay."
Finally Todd said in the barest of voices, "They ... uh ... they raped her. They both raped her in front of me ... but-but-but I was hidden." He quieted and stared at the carpet, his face creased in worry, indecision. He seemed to be searching for language, for strength. He looked at Kevin.
Tim realized what Todd was trying to express: guilt.
"I was too scared to do anything. I was too hurt to fight them ... and I couldn't do anything. I was scared. I was so scared. They gang-raped her. Like father, like son."
"Who did they rape?" Tim pressed.
Kevin was mesmerized, caught up in Todd's memories.
"G..G...Georgianna C-Calhoun ... Georgie ... they raped her. Phillip and Peter. Together they raped her because she wouldn't tell them where Michelle went. Georgie kept quiet. She knew what happened to me, to us, knew what Peter did. And she kept quiet. She never told. She never told ... she must have known about the baby..." Todd's body shook violently and he bit down to stop the pain, to stop the hurt from coming, the pain coming in physical form, tearing through his chest, running straight down to his gut, twisting in his back. He drew his knees closer up, writhing in place. "Oh god… it hurts… oh my god..."
Kevin knew he had to be talking about Georgie Phillips. She ended up being the lover of Phillip Manning. Perhaps to always stop him from going after Michelle. Perhaps as a consolation prize. She was raped then by Phillip Manning… and Peter. Jesus. Another screwed up person. Like Todd. No wonder. No wonder he had reacted so strongly at seeing her body. Buried her. Covered her in lilacs. She had sacrificed herself for them. For Todd and Michelle. For the baby. She was a symbol of the beginning of Todd's decline. Of his fall into Hell. She was the protector of the secret, the keeper of secrets. No wonder she fell apart. She must have found about Michelle's death. She must have known. That's why she started the whole blackmail scheme.
Tim laid his hand on Todd's shoulder as he continued to rock, continued to hold it in. Whimpering but not crying. He clenched his jaw with a desperate effort at self-control. This was not the breaking point.
"It's alright, kiddo. You can cry, you know. Let it go."
"No. No crying. I'm not a pussy. I'm not a faggot. Men don't cry, they don't whine – they take what comes to them. Then they give it right back. You understand that, right? They give it BACK. They give what is asked for. They give what is deserving."
Kevin breathed in deeply, knowing he'd be haunted by the taunts of a rapist.
Todd leaned his head back against the wall while Tim talked softly to him. Assuring him he was okay, that he was safe. That no one was going to hurt him. Kevin wasn't so sure about that. It suddenly occurred to him that the person Todd and Jedediah saw in the park was Phillip Manning.
God, he thought. Was he here? In Llanview?
Cassie Buchanan and Sam Rappaport sat across a worn oak desk from Jack Neederman, the federal agent investigating the bribery scam that had hit Llanview. He had set up camp at the Llanview Police Department and didn't mind the cramped quarters, the chair that leaned back too far and the lack of a window. He also didn't mind the stares of the Commissioner's loyal cops, the ones who refused to buy into the possibility that their chief was dirty. Not Bo Buchanan. No way. Jack didn't mind any of these things because his primary goal was the truth. A rarity now-a-days, he often would say.
Cassie was not in Jack's office as a reporter but as a concerned citizen, as an "adoptive" caretaker of Jedediah Chant, the boy who had managed to get under her skin despite her initial reservations about his being Todd's son. In some ways, she felt that she had gotten to know Todd better through Jedediah. They had a similar sense of humor, shared certain mannerisms, and possessed a real drive to go after what they wanted. And of course, now she was rather rabid about protecting that kid from the likes of Phillip Manning.
The previous night, she, Kevin and the Mole had met once again in that dingy End of the Road Bar, where he handed them a copy of the tape where Phillip demanded him to kill Jed. He also laid out what he wanted in exchange for his testimony. Sam was in the office to assure a deal for the Mole, to make sure Phillip Manning was going to be taken care of.
Shaking his head, Jack listened to the tape of Phillip Manning produced by the Mole, his brown moustache hiding his tightened mouth, his gruff appearance revealing a career following the exploits of organized crime leaders. Sam was horrified at what was on the tape.
The cassette's tiny wheels turned in the tape player while the Mole's sing-song voice crooned out of it…
"I mean, the subject of the artwork will be this young, fresh, bright eyed-kid. A shock of brownish hair, messed by the wind of that long tunnel after the moment of his death. A youth just starting out – already facing his end, his moment of judgment – those pearly gates and all that shit. Barely old enough to drive. To screw. To cock a pistol ... to vote. Innocent, precious eyes, God's love just pouring through every pore of his body! Lord save that sweet soul! Lord give us His grace -"
"Yeah, God damn it! A picture in death, a picture of the boy in fucking Hell! I WANT JEDEDIAH CHANT FUCKING DEAD!"
Jack clicked the tape off, sucking in air, "Well, there you go. The tape's pretty good – sounds like the Phillip Manning we're familiar with – he's still the scumbag we always thought he was. I don't know why he's after the kid, though."
"Well are you going to arrest him, now?" Sam demanded. Cassie looked at him intensely, knowing the negotiation was going to be rough. The Mole gave her the tape but refused to come along, not wanting to have to sit in a police department and reveal his true name, his true background. His crimes. Not yet. Not without the proper assurances.
"Is your informant ready to testify as to the making of the tape?" The Agent asked, staring back at Sam, his gaze steady and unwavering.
"Of course he will," Sam said. "No question."
"For immunity." Cassie smiled.
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Jack laughed heartily, a booming laugh, as he leaned back, not revealing his frustration with the legal system. The tape was worthless unless they had legal foundation to support its authenticity. "Listen," he said to them. "I'd have to get a name first from you – look up his record, find out who he is before I could even begin to consider immunity."
"This puts us in a tough position," Sam responded. "He doesn't want to come forward until he's guaranteed a free ride. He's helped us a lot – he's the one who brought Cassie all that information. Without him, we'd have nothing, you'd have nothing. The whole scam would be underwater."
Jack studied the urgent eyes of Cassie, her long black hair framing a delicate, soft face. Ironic that such a gentle woman was mucking around with the King of Scum. He then looked at Sam, at his tired face. "Do either one of you know anything about Phillip Manning? About his background? Has your Mole shared with you anything about him?"
"Just what I've been able to pick up – what you've seen," Cassie said.
"The bribery stuff and now this," Jack noted.
"Right."
He looked away, out the door for a moment and then back at her, "Manning is the head of a fairly well-organized crime ring. We've not been able to pin anything on him. At all. Too slick, too hidden. This tape? Typical. It's the first time, granted, that I've heard him quite this agitated, I admit—"
"What do you mean 'typical'?" Cassie asked, flabbergasted. "You have other tapes like this? And he's still walking the streets?!"
"Yeah, exactly. And you have every right to be angry. He's been based in Chicago for years now – he's young - maybe 32, 33. He's earned his position through cruelty and brute force. No one turns on him. He has a way of knowing everything about his workers, knowing their weaknesses. And he uses them. So he's clean, like snow over a garbage dump."
"I don't believe this," said Cassie. "I can't believe someone would be that protected."
"Well, believe it," Jack continued. "He's a very, very bad guy, Mrs. Buchanan. You really ought to be careful because what you have? It's weak. Circumstantial. Clumsy. Makes me think Manning's losing his touch. We need more, though. Confession is good, a tattle-tale would be great. More evidence." Jack picked a small Styrofoam cup partly filled with what looked like coffee. Cold, black coffee. Drank it down, wiping his mouth with a crumpled napkin next to him. He tossed the cup into an over-flowing office trash can. "He's not gonna go down easy."
"Where are you now with the investigation?" Cassie asked.
He took a heavy breath and opened a drawer, pulling out a file. He opened it and flipped through some papers. "Let's see ... we stormed his office a few days ago with a search warrant – packed up every piece of document there, ripped the place apart." He looked up at Cassie. "Agents are sorting through it, now. So far we've come up empty other than matching types of paper which supports the documentation we received from you as being the real thing. Um...what else...uh ...we have an APB out on Manning – he's disappeared. Big surprise." He closed the file and leaned back on his chair again, putting his hands behind his head. "And as far as Llanview's concerned, our investigation has been mainly focused on Judge Campbell who, as you know, was apparently on Manning's payroll. But that's ending up to be a dead end as the old Judge keeled over dead from a heart attack this morning."
"What?! I didn't hear about this!" Sam bellowed.
"He was found by his wife in his home office, the remains of a whole hell of a lot of paper in the 'cooling embers' of his fireplace. His office was trashed, empty. Your L.P.D. folks are over there now, raking through the mess. It's pretty hush-hush." Jack took a breath and looked very serious at the young lady in front of him. "The Commissioner asked that it be kept quite ... until he could get out there himself."
Cassie looked directly at Jack and he looked back at her. Words didn't come, but both were suspicious of the Commissioner's request.
"Really?" she cooed, breaking the quiet.
"Listen, between us, off the record, the Buchanan family is next on our investigative focus. In fact, I have a meeting later today with Mr. Asa Buchanan. Maybe he'll turn on Manning."
Cassie sighed, looking down at her fingernails, feeling for her husband. She knew how painful this whole thing was for him. Made him question his family, the people he loved and respected. Made him feel dirty.
Sam changed the subject, "What does Todd Manning have to do with Phillip? I understand they're cousins. Is...Todd involved in this...ring?"
"Not that we can see. I know about Todd Manning – his criminal past – and we've always placed him under the category of 'loose cannon'. As far as we can tell, your newspaper guy has created his own messes all by himself. No help from the cousin, no help from anybody. He's never been protected or covered for or anything. So far as we're concerned, he's on his own. Most likely he has nothing to do with this scam. I know his various companies are not listed as owner of any of the Angel Square properties."
"What about his father? Peter Manning? What's his connection with Phillip?"
"Peter...Peter..." Jack shook his head and rubbed his neck, looking like an old enemy had suddenly walked into his office. "We think he was the original boss, not particularly wealthy, not particularly successful or far-reaching. Based on various property passages and company holdings, it looked like Peter may have passed the torch to his nephew Phillip. Phillip is the one who really took off, who really turned Peter's hamlet into a goddamned metropolis."
"So you know a lot about the Manning family?"
"Oh yeah. This is why we need your Mole to come forward. This has happened too many times to count. Good evidence, worthless in court. He always walks."
"Do you have a picture of him?" Cassie asked, her voice gentle, hopeful.
"Nothing recent, no," Jack answered. "This is another one of our problems with him." He opened the file again and tossed out a black and white photo, clearly taken on a surveillance camera. "Lately, he's been a chameleon. Can't get a good shot of him."
Sam and Cassie both leaned in, studying the photo. The picture showed him talking to someone, in front of a glass building, clearly in a city. Must be Chicago, Cassie thought. Phillip was grinning at his companion who was a nondescript, inconsequential man. A full neatly-trimmed beard covered Phillip's face and he wore a long coat covering his shape, although he looked tall and thin. His hair was kind of long, dark, coming to his shoulders. Wavy. The thing that caught Cassie's attention were his eyes – though he was smiling, his eyes weren't. If she were to cover the lower portion of the picture so she could only see those eyes, there would only be a dead stare. She placed the picture back on his desk.
"What are you going to do to protect Jedediah?" she demanded. She had already explained early on in their conversation who Jedediah was, that he knew nothing about the hit out on him. About how innocent he was to all of this.
"We can have an agent trail the kid," Jack said. "The hard thing is that all we have is an unsubstantiated tape of an apparent contract to kill. That's not much to warrant a full-scale operation. Hopefully, your Mole will not follow through on his job. Hopefully he'll come forward. Not to be pessimistic ... but all the cops in the world can't keep Phillip away forever from that kid. He will get through to him. Trust me. He won't rely on your informant for long because he likes his work done fast. Your guy has to come to us. Immunity or no. For the kid's sake."
Kevin and Todd sat at the table, Tim next to them. With shaking hands, Todd lifted the cup of water to his mouth and drank slowly.
"He's a couple of years older than me," he said. "Always was hanging around Peter. Peter used to ... talk about him. To me. Telling me what a 'great kid' he was. What a 'smart kid' he was. How he was going to be a real man. A real ... son of a bitch. Just like Peter. Just like dear...old...dad."
"How long had you known him?" Tim asked.
"My whole life, as far back as I remember," Todd said, his voice strained and shivery, on the verge of breaking. "Phillip's dad, Matthew, was this sickly guy – polio, I think. They'd come over and Phillip would just – you know – hang all over Peter. I was always put off when he was around. Matthew died when I was 17 or so. Peter became like a surrogate dad to him. I'm sure that's why Peter gave me up so easy when I went to jail. He had someone he could be really proud of."
"Why did Peter want to know where Michelle was? He was pretty safe from what he did to you – obviously Michelle wasn't going to talk about it."
Todd shook his head vehemently, "Not Peter ... Phillip wanted to know. He was obsessed with her. See, I met Michelle when..." He stopped for a moment to drink some more water. Shhh. Don't cry. "I met her when I was in seventh grade. We became friends and it wasn't until later that we got really close. Phillip started to hang around at that, trying to talk to her. She would talk to him, sweet as always, but she didn't have any interest in him. I knew about it but I didn't think anything of it. I was too ... beaten." He whispered, "I was nothing."
Todd breathed in deeply, looking down, sipping his water again. He held the cup with both hands as he was shaking, still. "It was par for the course to have Phillip around, harassing me. He was an extension of Peter. Just another limb. Just another bastard to deal with..." Todd put the water down and lay his head on the table.
"Something hurts … real bad," he said. "Oh god…"
"I know, kiddo."
I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Shhh. I don't want this pain. Please. Let me go home. Let me be with her again. I'm so cold here. It's much too cold.
"I hurt, I hurt, I hurt…"
Tim said softly, "It's all right. You're doing really well."
Todd suddenly lifted his head and looked at Kevin whose heart lurched at what he saw. The deep sadness that Todd had always hidden before was staring right at him. They understood one another. They both wanted to protect the "baby," Jedediah. Without needing Todd to say anything, Kevin assured him, "Jed's in the lobby. He's fine."
"Okay," Todd said beneath his breath.
"Can you tell me what happened with Phillip, what happened next?" Kevin prodded.
"He just kept bothering her. We had a fight over her. Came to blows. I lost. Bad. The bastard played dirty. Real dirty. After what happened..." His eyes went to Kevin, not sure if he knew about his being raped by Peter. He decided not to elaborate. "After this one bad night, Michelle had run to Georgie's house. They were best friends. She knew everything about us. I accepted that. I didn't care, I loved Michelle. I loved her." He looked down, flashes of Téa before him. How he missed her, how he dared not see her. He was dangerous around her so he didn't want to risk her safety.
"What happened then?"
"Phillip knew that Georgie was friends with Michelle. After she left, Phillip went nuts, tried to get me to talk – but I didn't know where she was. I didn't. So one night, I heard noises. Peter's voice. Drunk. Threatening. I was still pretty messed up from ... well ... I went downstairs and saw that it was Georgie. They raped her." Todd closed his eyes, held his stomach.
"It was awful," he whispered. "And I just sat and watched. Watched the whole thing." Todd stayed quiet a little while there in the chair. His eyes dipped then opened. He picked up the cup again and finished the water. He sniffed. Sat up and seemed to stretch in place. He licked his lips. His expression slowly changed, moving from one of agony to one of calm to one of disconnect… then finally to one of controlled dominion over the moment. Iced assuredness. It was such a shift that the doctor and Kevin both sat back in their own seats. The man now who spoke was a very dangerous man, a man who committed terrible crimes, who could kill you if you spoke wrong.
"Georgie never said a word. We never spoke again. She kept her mouth shut. So did I. A couple of years down the road I saw her with Phillip. They were ... a couple. He treated her like shit. Heard he slapped her around. By then I'd ... uh ... learned what it was to be a man. I'd already proven myself. I thought she deserved what had happened then. Deserved to be gang-raped, deserved Phillip. If she was gonna be his whore, well then ... fuck her. The rest is history. Lilacs and dirt." Todd gulped the rest of the water down, threw the cup into the trash can. Standing up, he looked at his listeners with no emotion, with lifeless eyes now.
"They're all the same you know. All the victims. They all deserve exactly what they get." He turned and pushed the door open, the door closing once again, slowly.
The enlightenment of a rapist, Kevin thought to himself. Jesus Christ.
End of Part 1
To be continued in Part 2, Heroin Heaven...