Chasing the Monsters: 7

"Dad!"  Sam said, charging.

"Dad!"  Ray mimicked, and did the same.

Todd opened his arms, and got both of them, hoisting them off the ground, one in each arm.  He noted that Sam was not much heavier, at least it was how it felt, than Ray.  "Hey guys," he said, "Which one wants into the pool with clothes on first?"

"Me!"  Sam shouted.

"Not me, Daddy.  Cold."  Ray said.

Blair muttered, "Well, at least we know he has sense."

"Let's go get dumped on the couch, Dad, please?"  Sam said.

"Pwease?" Ray copied.

"All right."  He tossed them down in the family room, on the couch cushions.  

Jack lingered behind his mother and father, and Sam, sitting up rather abruptly, said, "So how was work, Giant Oaf?"

"Okay.  I didn't work too long.  We had to come home."

"Why, Dad?"  Sam said, starting to play with his action figures.  He had left a few on the floor beside the couch.

"We had to come home and see you guys, and then, I have to go on a little trip."  Todd said.

"Trip in the pwane, Daddy?"  Ray said, looking up innocently.  

Todd couldn't help but notice Sam's stricken face, behind his little brother's curiosity.  "I think so, Buddy."

Sam got up, and ran to the stairs and up to his room.  Both Todd and Blair watched him go, and Jack said, "The Runt is losing it."

Blair said, "Stop it."  Then she looked to her husband.  "Who goes after him?"

"I think this one is for me," he said, taking the stairs in doubles, as he always did.

Blair said, "Your brother is going through something," to Jack.

"Yeah.  I guess he is.  The Puny Little Goof.  I told him to stop worrying so much.  He can't.  I guess . . . Peter really did a number on where his head is."

She nodded, still looking up the staircase.

At the top of the stairs, Todd stopped a minute, and then headed to Sam's room.  He looked into the room first, and not seeing Sam, walked in and searched in the closet and under the bed.  "Come on, Sam.  Come out from wherever you are and talk a minute."

There was no answer.  Todd's heart leaped into his throat, and he raced to the master bedroom suite, pushing the slightly-ajar door open, and spying just what he feared.  Sam was outside on the balcony; the same one he had jumped into the snow pile from many months back.  Of course, now, there was no snow pile, and the child just stood, looking out over the yard.

As not to startle him, Todd walked slowly to the glass-paned wall, and then said through the open segment, "Hey, Sam?"  Something hurts, in my chest, he's . . .

Sam didn't turn.

On the lower level of the house, Ray, who was at the kitchen table waiting for his mother to bring his snack, said, "Mommy, wook, Sam!" in a gleeful tone.

"What do you mean, Ray?" she said, looking at him over her shoulder.  She saw the young boy, staring into the yard, toward the side of the house, eyes lifted upward.

She dropped what she was doing and followed his gaze.  "Oh my . . . God . . ." her voice caught.

Just then, Jack walked into the kitchen behind Ray, and said, "Shit, Runty's on the balcony."

Back on the roof, Todd, gradually walking out onto the outside patio above the yard said, "Sam, Buddy, what are you doing?"

"Nothing."

He's talking, at least.

"Why are you out here?  You don't really like the balcony much anymore."

"No.  I don't.  I just . . . Dad, point to where Mixie is buried."

By then, Todd was right behind Sam, and was able to gently, but firmly, grab his shoulder.  He did as the boy asked and pointed, explaining in words as well.

He felt Sam take a big breath and sigh.

In the kitchen, Jack said, "Dad's got him, Mom.  He's okay."

She was frozen in fear, and hadn't said anything more since her last sentence.  Finally, her shoulders relaxed, and she said, softly, "Todd, pick him up.  Please."

Within a few seconds, she noticed Todd hoisting Sam into his arms, and she leaned on the counter with both hands and lowered her head.  "Thank you," she said, breathlessly.

Todd, now having Sam in his arms, said, "So, why did you run upstairs?"

The little boy, now putting his head on Todd's shoulder and remaining quiet, said, "Nothing."

"Hey, you mad at me, 'cause you always tell me stuff, Bud, but lately, not as much?"

"I don't want to be a big baby," he said, lifting his head and looking into Todd's face.  

"You're not a big baby.  Where did you get that idea?"

"No one, maybe Jack a little.  But he didn't say it, so don't tell him."

"Okay, I won't.  Do you want to tell me why you ran, and then came here?"

"I wanted to see where Mixie was buried.  I remembered I could see it really good from here."  His eyes went to the ground in front of the balcony's edge.  "Dad, there's where the snow pile was."

You're scared, aren't you, you pansy?  You're scared that this little boy has more guts than your sissy ass ever did, and was planning to . . .

Todd swallowed.  "Yeah, I remember that.  But Sam . . ."

"I wasn't gonna jump or anything, not again.  That would be stupid.  I'm smart.  I just . . . was remembering.  See, Dad?  There's where the snow pile was.  I was right there, hiding."  He continued to point around various places as he spoke.  "There's where Starr was lying.  She was bleeding bad, out of her nose and mouth."

Todd smoothed his back.  "Okay.  What else do you want to tell me?"

"There's where . . . Peter grabbed Ray."  Todd felt the boy shudder in his arms.  "He gave him a lollipop so he would be quiet and good.  Starr told me to run, so I did.  I ran to the snow pile.  It had holes that Mixie and you dug in the side, so I could see out.  That's when . . . he told Starr she was just like you."

"Did he?"

"Yep.  And that's when Mixie charged him from the back.  Dad, you should have seen Mixie.  He just went wild and wanted to bite Peter bad."

"Well, he's not the only one," Todd said.  And, Sam managed a smile.  

The boy continued, "He tricked Mixie, Dad.  He wanted to give him a treat, and when Mixie came for it, he . . . did something to his head."

Todd felt the contents of his stomach moving.  "I know.  I know, Sam.  Is that all you wanted to tell me?"

"Yeah.  I think."

"Okay."  He paused, and then said, "So, why did you run?"

At this point, Sam's calm face scrunched up, and as much as he tried to fight it, he couldn't and broke down.  "I don't want you to leave us."

The boy slipped his arms around Todd's neck and put his head over his shoulder and cried.  Todd, fighting his own emotion, raised his eyes up, and then closed them.

Get it together, now, and help this kid with all of this.  You're his father, aren't you?  Aren't you?

"You mean, ever?  Or for a day or two?"  Todd said.

"Both.  I don't want you to go to away.  When you said it, I felt afraid.  And then, I just ran, and my feet took over."

"They took you up here?"

"Yeah.  When I think of you going," he stopped to sob and catch his breath, "I think of Peter and you.  I think of Grandma Bitsy's drawings, and him hurting you when you were little.  I don't want you to go to because he might be there, waiting for you."

"Sam, Sam, look at me."  The boy did as his father told him.  "Peter can't come back.  He can't be waiting anywhere for me.  He can't hurt you anymore.  He can't hurt me anymore."

"Are you sure?"  he sniffled.

"Yes.  I'm positive.  Remember, Grandma Bitsy shot him to save us."

"Yeah, but . . ."  

"But what?"

"You were dead, and you came back."

Todd thought a minute.  "I was missing, for 8 years, but I wasn't dead."

"No, not that.  When you went to Ireland.  Mom was with you.  You died, and they brought you back."  By then, Blair was standing behind her husband and son, and her hand landed on Sam's head.  She stroked his hair, and he looked into her face.  "Hi, Mom."

"Hi, Big Guy.  What's the matter?"

"I don't want Dad to go to anywhere.  Peter might kill him.  He killed a lady, some kid told me at school."

He did more than that.

Blair said, "He did.  He did do that.  He was not a healthy man.  His mind was not healthy."  

"But he might come back and hurt Dad.  Dad should never go to away again, ever."

She reached out and took her son into her arms, and walked to one of the lounge chairs.  Sitting, she put him down beside her, and took his hands.  He studied her face.  She said, "Peter can't come back.  He was shot.  I know what you're thinking.  But that's different.  Daddy was sick, in the hospital, and he stopped breathing.  But, the doctors were quick and helped Daddy breathe, so that he wouldn't stay dead.  It's called 'resuscitation,' and doctors know how to do it with special medicines and machines.  Daddy wasn't really dead, he was just not breathing on his own.  The doctors saved him from dying."

"Then Peter could come back.  Someone could dig him up, and resusstate him."

"No, people can't do that.  Doctors can't help you once you die.  Once you die all the way, you can't come back."

"Is Peter dead all the way?"

"Yep, he is," Todd chimed in, sitting on the other side of Sam.  "He's not able to come back."

"But Dad, Zeus told us that his father died just before he met Mom.  That was when he was pretending to be you.  So, wouldn't that mean that Peter died before?"

"Sam, you're so smart to figure all that out," Todd said, "Yep.  I thought he died.  But he faked it.  He was a mean, sick man.  He faked dying so he could hide from police for hurting me and Grandma Bitsy."

"So he never really died?"

"Not until now, no," Todd clarified.

"So he can't come back?"

"No.  He can't."  Blair said, and her eyes caught Todd's.  She saw emotion welling in them, and took the lead.  "Now, come on, downstairs.  Ray wants to eat his snack with you, and then, I'm going to make Rice Krispie treats for later, and you can help."

"Oh I love those Mom!  I like to melt the marshmallows, it's so weird watching it."

"I know, right?  It's kind of cool," she said, standing up.  "Do you think you can be a big boy, and go down to Ray by yourself?  Jack's down there, and Jewel."

"Yeah, sure!"  he said, running off and back into the house.  

They both watched him.

"I thought . . . he was going to jump.  But then, I realized, most little kids don't want to die.  Just me,"  Todd said.

She touched his hand.  "Oh, Todd," she said, "we can't change any of that.  I wish I could, take it all away."

"I just . . . saw him there, and I thought, 'my son's going to kill himself' and I heard Peter's voice, loud and clear."

"What did he say?"

Todd stood up, turning his back to her, and looking out, over his kingdom, that now reflected back something he didn't want anywhere near his family.  "Blair, maybe we should move."

She walked up behind him, and slid her arms around his chest.  "I've thought about it.  But we love this house."

"We'll sell it.  The yard, it's too much for Sam.  And probably all of us."

Blair gulped, and came around next to him.  Both of them looked out over the land they had called home.  "Sam jumped, he almost died.  Before that, you almost jumped, remember?  When you remembered everything about Leona?  Starr was beaten here.  The bear.  Ray was taken from here."

"But, Jewel was born in that house," he said, and covered one of her hands, still on his arm, with his.  "We have a lot of great memories here, too."

"Yeah, we do," she said, wistfully.  "What now?"

"I'll get the house lifted up and moved."

"Stop, Todd."

"Well, maybe not that.  But there has to be a way to move the house, off the foundation, and plant it somewhere else?  I'll rebuild it again and keep the pieces we can."

"Are you sure?"

"I don't know, it might be time.  With all that's happened."

"Let's talk about it when you get back."

He nodded.  She moved closer to him.  "Todd, what did Peter say, in your head?"

"When I saw Sam standing there, I . . . I hate to admit it, but I almost panicked.  I thought of how I felt, at that age, and with Sam standing so close to the edge.  Then I heard Peter . . . taunting me for, well, being too afraid . . ."

"Of what?"

He walked closer to the edge.  "Funny how I never remembered so much of this for so long."

She hugged him from the back, and he turned toward her.  "Sam will be okay.  But, I wonder if he'd be even better if he didn't have to relive what happened in this yard every day.  Think of it.  At least three traumatic things:  his jump, the bear, and Peter.  That's enough to drive anyone nuts."

"And his dock-shun day, and his sister being born . . ."

"We'll talk about it when I get back?"

"We'll talk about it when you get back."

"Should I stay, since he's scared about it?"

"No.  You can't let him think he might be right.  You should go, even though I don't want you to.  My reasons are a little different than his."

"So you're not scared Peter's going to get me?"

"Not physically.  The happiest sight I saw was him lying there with that bullet hole in his head.  I have to be honest, I felt so relieved, and a little vindicated for you."

"What does that mean, 'not physically?'"

"You know what it means, My Love."

He kissed her, passionately, and said, "I"m all right.  Over it.  Yeah, little pieces come in and out of my head, but it's over with.  Just the last stages of whatever it is.  Call it the scab period."

She let a small laugh escape.  "All right.  The Scab Period it is."

He looked directly into her vibrant, green eyes.  "I'm okay, now.  I am."

"I believe you," she said, smiling, and tears filled her eyes, "It doesn't mean I won't miss you.  I love you so much, Todd."

"I love you so much, too."

She knew she could count on that.

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