Initiation (25 page)

“Get your hands off me,” Carter said.

“Jim, let go,” Grace said.

Jim chuckled and released his grip. Carter stepped back.

“Been a long time, hasn’t it?” Jim said. “Your father wanted me to adopt you because he was such a cheap ass that he didn’t even wanna pay your child support.”

Carter shrugged. “I really don’t care about either of you.”

“Carter Matthew, what has gotten into you?” Grace said.

“I’m leaving,” Carter said with a professional poker face.

Jim laughed.

“Stop this craziness,” Grace said. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Where the fuck are you goin’?” Jim said.

“It’s none of your business. I just came to get my stuff.”

Jim clenched his fists, his face red. He moved into Carter’s personal space. “Your stuff was purchased with
my
money, so it’s
my
stuff.”

“Not all of it,” Carter said. “I’ve been paying for my own stuff.”

Jim half-snorted, half-laughed. “You were a minor until what – last week? It’s all mine. I shoulda been chargin’ you rent.”

Carter nodded, a smirk on his face. “Too bad you didn’t have a contract. Now get outta my way. And if you touch me, I’ll file assault charges. Don’t think I won’t.”

“You can take your clothes, but everything else stays.”

“Fine,” Carter replied. “Move outta my way.”

Jim stepped back, his eyes narrowed. Carter slipped past.

“This is silly, honey,” Grace said to Carter as he started down the basement steps.

Carter shut his bedroom door, pressed the lock on the handle, and took a deep breath. He opened his closet. A box the size of a microwave sat on the top shelf. His heartbeat pounded as he pushed it aside. A wave of relief washed over him as he saw the shoebox, his makeshift piggy bank, taped up and safe. His relief turned to panic as soon as he picked up the box. It felt different. As he brought it down to eye level, he saw it. He felt nauseated. The tape was cut. He opened the top, confirming what he already knew. The box was empty. His money was gone.

His heart pounded in his chest. His mouth felt dry and frothy, like a rabid dog’s. He ripped his door open and sprinted up the steps. Grace stood like a statue as her son blew by. Jim shot out of his recliner, standing flat-footed. One side of Jim’s mouth curled up, almost in a smile. He expected the oncoming train to stop. The quickness and ferocity surprised him. Carter was at full speed when he launched himself at Jim’s head. He was all forearms and elbows to his stepfather’s face. Jim fell to the floor against the recliner. He was on his side, his bell ringing, his hands covering his head. Carter was a rabid animal, pummeling Jim’s face. Some of the blows smashed Jim’s fingers. Some smashed his nose, his jaw, his ears, his eyes. Jim’s face bled; his nose was off-kilter. Eventually Jim’s hands fell away, his body slack against the punches. Carter kept pounding until Jim’s face was unrecognizable.

Two loud bangs woke Carter from his rage. He stood and looked up from the bloody mess he had created. Grace stood at the bottom of the steps pointing Jim’s handgun at his chest. The rectangular Glock shook in her hands. Carter gazed down at his stepfather. His face looked like pulverized meat, blood covering every speck of white except for his expansive forehead. His knuckles had blood and bits of flesh attached to them. His wrists hurt; he couldn’t make a fist without searing pain. Blood droplets covered his shirt. He gazed at his mother. Her eyes were wide. Shame made him drop his gaze to her feet. They were obscured by the shopping bags piled near the steps, waiting to be carried upstairs. Tears slid down his face. Sirens pierced the air. Shortly after, police officers in helmets and body armor burst through the front door. He didn’t resist when he was taken down or when his hands were yanked behind his back. He grunted, the metal against his wrists cutting deep.

It wasn’t until Carter was sitting in the back of the police car that he realized the full gravity of his actions.

Chapter 20: Felonies and Misdemeanors

–20 –

Felonies and Misdemeanors

* * *

The stainless steel stool that Carter sat on matched the table that it was affixed to. His hands were folded on the cold steel. He wore orange pants and an orange shirt, with a white T-shirt underneath. Men with blue shirts, ID badges, and dark trousers patrolled the room. Other men in orange, tattooed men, men with shaved heads, men in all sizes and colors sat across from their families and friends. Some spoke in whispers, some were jovial, some were formal. Some ate vending machine food. The guards watched closely when a child sat on an orange lap.

Carter stood as Sarah made her way across the linoleum, an ID badge attached to her thick T-shirt. She tiptoed through the scene as if she were afraid to touch anything. She approached with a forced smile, dark circles under her glassy eyes. Carter hugged her. She held on tight. A guard glared at them. Carter let go and sat down on the steel disc. Sarah sat opposite.

“Three seconds,” Carter said. “I think we can have a three second hug before they get upset.”

One side of her mouth turned up for a second. “How are you?” She searched Carter’s face. His black eye was fading.

He smirked. “Maybe you could write an article about the hazing here.”

“You look better than …”

“Last time.”

“Yes.” She nodded, her hands folded in her lap. “Are the Wheelers still visiting?”

He smiled. “Every week. I keep thinking they’re gonna get tired of coming, but every Saturday, they’re here.”

“Anyone else?”

“Devin came once with his dad. It was really nice of him. He’s at football camp now, University of Richmond.”

“I thought he was going to run track.”

“He’s doing both.”

“Good for him.”

“So, any news from the outside world?”

She scowled. “Did you hear about what happened with Justin and Zach?”

Carter mimicked her scowl. “Please tell me they didn’t get off.”

“They pleaded the charges down to sexual battery – an F-ing misdemeanor.” Her face went red. “They’ll be out in six months.” She leaned forward. “Your lawyer
fucking sucked
.” She whispered
fucking sucked
, so the guards wouldn’t hear. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you. It just makes me
so mad
.”

Carter shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I’m pretty immune to disappointment these days. Besides, they still have to live with what they did, just like I do.”

“True.” Sarah’s face softened and she sat upright. “What you did wasn’t your –”

“So, the big day’s coming up. Are you all packed?”

She shrugged and stared at her hands.

“What?” he asked.

She looked up. “I just – can I be really honest with you?”

He half-smiled. “I should hope so.”

She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her T-shirt. “A big part of me wants to leave. To just forget about all this.”

He nodded.

“It’s killing me seeing you here. I can’t sleep. I just …” she wiped her eyes again.

Carter stood, asking the middle-aged inmate to his left if he could have the box of tissues on his table. The woman sitting with him glanced at Sarah and handed the box to Carter. He thanked them and sat back down in front of Sarah. He pushed the box across the table. Sarah whipped out a couple of tissues and dabbed the corners of her eyes.

After a moment Carter said, “You just what?”

She shook her head. “I just – I mean, every day I wonder if you’re hurt or dead or worse. I just can’t.”

Carter bit his lower lip. “I know.” He smiled, but his eyes were still. “Next week you’ll be in Illinois. Are you excited?”

“I am … is that terrible?”

“No.”

“I feel like a terrible person, like I’m abandoning you.”

“What are you supposed to do, wait around for five years?”

Her eyes were wet. “If you tell me not to go, I won’t go. If you need me to stay, I’ll stay.”

He frowned. “If you stay, I’ll feel like I’ve ruined your life too. I can’t live with that.”

She nodded and wiped her eyes once more with her tissue. She sat up straight, forcing a smile. “You do look better. You look better than me. I mean look at me. I’m a mess. You’d think I was the one in prison.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “Please tell me that you’re going to survive this.”

“It’s getting better, but I’m not gonna lie to you. That first month was like living with a thousand Jims. They were testing me, to see if I would stand up or not. It was really stressful. The predators were trying to decide if I was a mark. You don’t know who to trust. Everyone’s trying to work an angle.”

“But now it’s better?”

“It’s still prison, but yeah. It’s better.”

Sarah glanced around to make sure nobody was listening. “Did anyone hurt you … like, more than physically?”

He smirked. “You mean did someone hurt my feelings?”

She looked around again, leaning forward. “Sexually.” She winced as if the word caused her pain.

He leaned forward, reached out, and put his hand on top of hers. “No.”

She exhaled as if she were holding her breath. Her shoulders slumped, the tension in her body eradicated with a simple two-letter word.

He squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry, I passed the initiation. I made friends with some of the guys that lift weights. They were shocked at how much I can bench press. I have a bunch of ’em on my program now. I even made some friends in my anger management class. A lot of guys with dads like mine.”

“So what happens now?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “You’re gonna go to Northwestern. I’m gonna be happy for you. And we’ll see what happens.”

Chapter 21: Fresh Fish and Second Chances

– 21 –

Fresh Fish and Second Chances

The sound was on mute, Carter’s focus dialed into the tip of the rotating football falling out of the sky. He stepped in front of the receiver and leaped, his arms reaching for the clouds. His fingers were outstretched, his hands forming an open triangle. The receiver jumped behind him, grasping at his arm. The football dropped into Carter’s grasp, his hands and fingers cradling it safely. He landed on his feet, a few yards inside the end zone. The receiver fell to the ground. He knew he should take a knee. It was over. There was nothing left to gain. But he saw nothing but green in front of him. He was off like a rocket, the precious cargo stashed tightly in the crook of his arm. He dashed down his team’s sideline. Players and coaches jumped up and down in blue uniforms. He knew he was being chased, but he didn’t look back. He knew this time it would be different.

Carter raced through the end zone. The man in the striped shirt threw his hands up. The sound returned. He flipped the football to the man and turned, scanning the metal bleachers of the old city stadium. It was half-full, but they were cheering – they were definitely cheering. The afternoon sun peeked through the scattered clouds. The clock on the scoreboard was 0:00. His teammates had already started spilling onto the field. His fellow defenders that he’d left in the dust on his jaunt to the end zone caught up to him, burying him in the middle of a huddle of hugs and head slaps. It was a meaningless touchdown in a meaningless game, but it didn’t feel that way.

After post-game handshakes, Carter and his teammates meandered toward the home bleachers. On his way, he was stopped by an older dark-skinned coach with a wiry build.

“Helluva season, Wheeler.”

Carter smirked, his blue helmet in hand. “It would have been nice to win a few more.”

“We’re a young team.” The coach laughed. “Well, everyone except you and me.”

Carter chuckled. “Come on, Coach, I’m not
that
old. I have been meaning to ask you what it was like playing in a leather helmet.”

“I see,” Coach Clay said grinning. “Old man’s got jokes now. You’re lucky I can’t make you run anymore. You will be gettin’ my coffee though.”

Carter shook his head with a smile. “And here I thought I was done with initiations.”

“New coach gets coffee.”

Carter held out his hand. “Thanks, Coach … for everything.”