Failings of the Fathers: 55

Calvin had waited patiently for the right time.  He'd heard enough.  Jack, gone.  Blair, gone and not returning soon.  Shaun, out like a light.  Perzno, in copter.  Starr, unsuspecting.  There was something very exciting about the moment he was enduring, and it was the moment of decision and action.  The time had come.

He could hear the mixture of Ray's teeny voice and Sam's small one, echoing against the house and trees.  Soft sounds also came from where Starr was, as she made calls, and spoke to the boys about their actions.  "The baby must be asleep in the house," Calvin said, "I can get her on the way out if things go all right."  He began to creep around the side of the house to view what he was up against, once more, before attacking.  He touched the gun in the back of his waistband.  Then, he decided.

Now.

He walked toward the patio, nonchalantly, and the boys, ignoring him, for his was a common presence in the last day or two, continued to play.  Mixie, who suddenly came out from under the picnic table, stopped and looked, his tail wagging.  Starr barely looked up from her magazine as he approached.  Calvin soon got close enough to grab Little Ray off the ground, and tuck him under one arm, as Sam watched.

 The weird man.  He's scary.  Sam said, "No, don't touch my brother." 

"Shut up," Calvin said, grabbing Sam's wrist with his free hand.  "Don't worry, you're coming, too."  

Sam shouted, "Put him down, or my father's going to get you."

This made Calvin laugh and Starr look up.

Realizing what was going on, Starr flew off the lounge chair she was sitting in, but purposely stopped herself from looking at the basket, for fear he would look as well.  She rushed the man, and he backhanded her across the face.  The impact deafened her, and she felt the pain sear through her face, as she stumbled backward and went to her knees on the ground.  Dazed and feeling blood trickling onto her chin, she attempted to get up.  She could see Sam, frozen, perfectly still, and his pants were darker where he had wet himself.  Ray was eating a lollipop that Malcolm had managed to hand him without her seeing, and the toddler hadn't noticed anything amiss yet.  
Starr heard herself scream, "Run, Sam!  Run!"

Of course, Sam, trying to listen to her in his shock, was pale, and his face was twisted in terror.  He ran the opposite way, back toward the house.  Calvin didn't bother chasing Sam; he didn't want the bastard child of some impostor, anyway.  He wanted Todd Manning's flesh and blood.

He wasn't happy with Starr's warning to the children, or what she was about to do next.  To his surprise, she was back on her feet and charged him, knocking her head into his stomach and sending the wind out of him.  She hauled back and kicked at him, missing her target and hitting into his thigh, causing him to topple backward a bit, but not let go of the toddler.  Her actions toward Calvin were amusing him, at best.  She was a mess of bloody lip and frazzled blonde hair, her small frame dirtied with mud from the ground.  

Instead of reacting the way she thought he would, he laughed at her more.  "You little bitch," he said aloud, through his gales of laughter, and he backhanded her across the face a second time.  She went down, and then crawled, albeit slowly, under the lounge chair for protection.  Then, a thought came to her:  My God, Jewel.  Get him away from the basket, before he notices her.  Make him drop Ray.  He can't take the kids.  From under the chair, she saw that Sam was gone from her view, but Mixie, who was now running directly at Calvin's back, was baring his teeth.

Sam, who had run behind the snow pile, yelled, "Mixie, no!" and Calvin, alerted to the dog's presence, turned toward the mutt, putting out his hand, which had a small treat he had stowed in his pocket, intentionally.  The dog, sniffing it, moved closer, and with all of them watching, took the treat from Calvin's hand.  This lead Calvin to kneel on one knee, quickly, and pet the dog, and abruptly twist his head, breaking his neck with an audible snap.  Starr flinched at the sound, and decided there was nothing to do but crawl out from under the chair, and fight him, or lead him toward one of the cabins.   
Where the Hell was Shaun?  

Then, Calvin said, into Ray's face, "Hey, Little Guy, you're coming with me."  He let the dog go, and strangely pet it after it hit the ground, like a rag doll.  All this while holding a very compliant Ray in his other arm, without a hitch, sucking on a lolipop and seemingly oblivious..

With all of her strength, Starr had been pushing herself out from under the chair, and fought to get to her feet.  Her legs felt like dead weight, and suddenly, her vision was blurred.  She'd seen the gun in the back of his waistband, and told herself to get around him, and reach for it.  Her vision was patchy, now, the blood from her lip definitely soaking onto her shirt.  She tried to duck around him, and grab the handle of the gun, but he grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm until she heard a strange crack.  He pulled her in front of him and she said, "Who are you?  Just take me with you, put my brother down, and I'll go without a fight."

"You surprise me.  You're a fighter.  I'm impressed.  What's more, magnanimous.  And much more cocky than you should be.  Just like your father."

"What do you know about my father?"  She spit out, but her words were beginning to blur like her vision.

He said, "I can do the rest of this with one hand," and still holding Ray under his arm, he let go of her wrist, and swung his fist at her face.

Starr went down to the grass, but still looked up at him with vengeance in her eyes.  She wrapped her good arm around his legs to try and prevent him from going.  He said, "Don't bother calling for help, your knight in shining armor is out of commission."

That said, he kicked her in her ribs.  She heard and felt them shatter, and saw stars and black from the pain.  Another blow to her back snatched her breath from her, and she lay, on the ground, very still.  Without moving, she tried to see what had happened to Sam, and instead, saw the gardener go toward the basket.  Before she passed out, she saw him pick up her phone.

Calvin still had Little Ray tucked under an arm, and the boy was very still and quiet.  He picked up Starr Manning's cell phone and saw a recently-arrived text:

I changed my mind.  You made me feel guilty.  Me and Jenna are on our way back.  She did her thing at the art show, and she decided to come home with me for a while.  Sorry about the shitty things I said.  Your bro.

He made the conscious decision, right then, to cut his losses.  He had one of them, and one would be more than enough.  He could see his car, from where he stood, and realized that if he left then, with Starr probably dead, and the other kid . . . the other kid probably scarred for the rest of his life, he could get away with one of the Manning children without any hangups.  "Just you and me, kid," he said, and started to jog with Ray under his arm, to avoid Jack's return with this Jenna and Perzno.  He'd take his chances with the toddler and his car . . . and freedom.  

He never noticed the sleeping Jewel in Bitsy's pink basket.  He'd never seen where Sam had gone and hid.  But he had Raymond Thomas Manning in the front passenger seat of his 2005 black Chevy as he drove off.

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