Chasing the Monsters: 71

Todd gulped, staring directly into Mitch's face.  The older man said, "Caught you there, huh?  Now you're interested?"

"I don't know," Todd lied.

"Then put the phone down and go."

Todd hesitated.  Then he said, "You making threats?  From in here?"

"Oh, can't I?"

"Nothing I'd care about.  You tried before."

"Then why are you here?  Shouldn't you be going?  That phone in your pocket has been buzzing the whole time."

He looked to his leg and could see the shape of it, in his slacks, the rectangular item with curved edges.  The LCD light was flashing purple.

Blair.

"I don't suppose you've ever wondered why," Mitch started, "Your mother doesn't talk much about certain things."

"What are you getting at?"

"Now, back to the business at hand."

"No, finish what you said."

"You know, I've read a lot about you . . ."  Mitch started.

"Shut up and don't talk about my mother."

"You and I . . . we're so very much alike, Manning.  More than you realize . . ."

"Shut the fuck up," Todd glared at him.

"Your mother . . ."

"Forget my mother!  You're better off if you do.  She knows who you are.  She knows what you're capable of."

"Your mother will come here, to see me."

"She won't be doing that."

"You must allow her.  Whether you do or not, she will eventually come. I guarantee that."

"She doesn't want to.  That's where you're mistaken."

"She does.  You're blind to it.  Afraid to see.  Afraid that she does want to see me, that she does want me."

Todd slammed the phone down.  Mitch still held his, and grinned, tauntingly.  "You might want to pick that up," he said, and even without the phone connection, Todd could hear it, softly from the other side.  "You've sat here, on this end of things, Manning.  You probably know what a visit or two could mean."

Todd remained sitting, though he wasn't sure why.  He doesn't have Tina, just get up and go.

Mitch continued speaking, and holding the phone.  "You can go, but then, you'll never know my plans, will you?"

Todd picked up the phone, carefully.

"That's better," Mitch said, "Bring your mother to me.  Otherwise, something drastically unpleasant will happen to your wife, or maybe one of those little spawn," and he smiled.

"You don't really think I'll buy this?  You'll alienate Bitsy forever.  Let go, Laurence.  My mother has not been interested in you for over thirty years."

"But you're wrong, aren't you?  You've always been wrong about her, and where her heart lies.  She left you, didn't she?  She left you behind with that perverted monster.  That pedophile."

Todd moved his hand to his phone, and could feel the warmth of the battery as it continued to notify him of pending messages.  "My mother was ill.  You took advantage of her.  She knows all that."

"She does?"

"Yes.  She's aware of everything."

"Everything.  Hmf.  The question is, are you?"

"Look, I'm going now.  Nothing you have to say matters to me or her, or anyone else.  I know who my mother is, what she's about, and what kind of past she's had.  None of it matters, just as mine doesn't matter to her."

"Ah, before you hang up, you would want to consider this.  What if your mother does want to see me?"

"She doesn't.  I've told you.  And if you cared for her, you'd understand and let her go."

Mitch reached into his pocket.  He brought out a small stack of paper, that Todd recognized instantly as envelopes.  He began to pick through them, deliberately.  Todd said, "Those are not from her."

"They're not?" he said, fingering through them again.  He took one, and lifted it to his nose.  "She wears the same perfume, actually.  All this time.  You must have it ordered for her, yes?"

Todd slammed the phone down again, and went to get up, when Mitch stood and dropped one of the letters over the dividing glass.

Todd looked at it.  Light pink envelope.  The flap was turned down, the address side facing up.  A soft scrawl wrote the address.  Feminine print.

"Go ahead, take it," he could hear Mitch, taunting.  "Look at it.  These letters are very important to me, as you probably know.  Your time, contained here, was made easier by one Rebecca Lewis, if I recall."

Todd's eyes became steel.  Rebecca.  So gullible.  So trusting.  But I was young and foolish, she was too, and I was desperate. . .

He interrupted his own thoughts, and took the letter.  On the flap was no return address, just the flower design that he had seen before.

His mother.  

What is she doing?

"Don't bother to open it, or try and read the contents.  I've kept the actual letters for safe keeping.  That's just the envelope.  You can have it."

Todd, in his shock, lifted his head, and took the receiver.  "If she did write these, which there's no proof of, it's because she's recovering, trying to sort things out."

"If you say so.  Now, here's what's going to happen.  If you want to protect your dear wife, you'll bring your mother to me.  Otherwise, we wait it out and see what happens.  But of course, I won't be patient long."

"Careful, that's a threat they've just recorded."

"It's not a threat.  Could simply mean, I'll give up and never speak of it again."  His eyes narrowed, "Could mean many things."

"Why should I care about a feeble threat from inside prison?  Most of what you spew are lies anyway."

"Maybe," he said.  "But you'll have to figure that out, won't you?"  Mitch hung up, leaving Todd sitting across from the plexiglass pane, holding the phone with a deadness on the other end.  He raised his eyes as Mitch stood.  "As always, Heed the Messenger."  And he turned, and waited for the guard to come to the door and let him back into the annals of the prison.

Todd watched him go, slowly replacing the receiver on the hook, and staring blankly at Laurence's back.

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