Shadows and Lies (17 page)

I put my hands on my hips. “Sean, where is this coming from?”

“Could you?” Sean pressed.

I sighed and gave in. “It would be difficult. Alright?”

Sean nodded, thinking hard. I shook my head at him. What crazy questions.

“Can I use your bathroom?” Sean asked me suddenly.

“Sure,” I said, pointing to the door. “Break a leg.”

That elicited a laugh from him. What a weirdo, I thought as I absently went over to my front window and looked out it. What I saw outside made me stop laughing.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, jumping back and heading straight for the door. I yanked it open. “Hey!” I yelled, stepping outside and leaning over the railing. “Get away from my car, you little creeps!”

Two white boys, probably 16 or 17 years old, with shaggy hair and those horrible tight pants that were in style at the time, were standing next to my car with a funnel and a bag of sugar, poised for action. Sitting on the ground at their feet was a can of gasoline. Apparently they planned to wash the sugar down the tank with that. I couldn’t see their faces very well because of all their hair and the street light wasn’t strong enough, but they yelled, “Crap, she’s seen us!” They dropped the sugar and funnel and began to run.

I stepped back inside, grabbed my purse and bolted out the door just as Sean was coming out of the bathroom. He saw me go and I heard him say, “What are doing?” but I had no time to answer him as I raced down the stairs. A small part of my brain told me that what I was doing was reckless and probably dangerous, especially considering that the little felons had built a pipe bomb, probably from instructions off the Internet, but the other part of me, the part that was tired of being scared, the part that had no tolerance for bullies, didn’t want them to get away. I wanted the little terrorists in jail and I wanted to sleep in my own bed that very night.

I was on the ground in seconds and I followed them in the direction they had gone in, around my building to the east. I could hear Sean yelling at me – I could hear him coming after me, his feet pounding on the stairs, but I saw the criminals round another corner, and I ran faster, not wanting to lose them. Sean was still running after me, but he was no longer calling out that I should stop, for which I was grateful. I rounded another building – the boys seemed to be weaving in and around the buildings with no particular logic or plan guiding them – but just as I came around one last building, I managed to see the two boys enter an apartment, number 2176, a downstairs abode, and I thought, yes! I have an address! I halted, pulled my cell phone out of my purse, and hit speed dial number 6 for the police.

Sean finally caught up, grabbed me by the shoulders and whirled me around just as the operator picked up. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded to know, obviously extremely upset with me, but I ignored him and gave the operator my information. She assured that me that a police car would be sent right away, but that I shouldn’t engage the suspects. I assured her that I wouldn’t and she stayed on the line waiting with me for the cops to show up, just in case the boys came back out. The thought that they could have access to guns did cross my mind, and I stepped back into the protective shade of Sean.

He looked like he wanted to ring my neck. Thankfully, he said nothing, though I could tell he wanted to blow his top at me. His mouth was set in a thin, disapproving line but he watched apartment 2176 like a hunter waiting for its pray to come into sight.

The police arrived in a single patrol car a few very long minutes later. Two officers stepped out. I identified myself to them and told them my story in a very rushed, excited voice. One officer called for backup and then, after telling us to back away, they both walked up to apartment 2176 and knocked on the door. A tall, very well put together woman answered. She looked frazzled and annoyed to see the police, but after inspecting their badges, she let them in.

Sean and I stayed put, keeping watch. While the two officers were inside, another patrol car pulled up and two more officers emerged. There was suddenly a bunch of yelling from inside the apartment, and then one of the boys, having snuck out the sliding glass door, jumped the short patio wall and began to run.

“He’s getting away!” I stepping forward and shouting like the helpful citizen that I was, and the second set of officers raced after that boy while they spoke swiftly into their radios. Sean clamped a hand over my mouth and pulled me back beside him. I set my teeth on a finger in warning, not biting. Yet. He let go of my mouth, but kept a hand on one of my arms. Apparently he was afraid I’d try to take up the chase or draw, dangerously so, more attention to myself in some way.

The whole scene wrapped up very quickly after that. The running boy was caught and cuffed, and the second boy was escorted from the apartment, the tall woman following and looking pissed. Both boys were complaining loudly. The officers told them to shut up, but they didn’t, at least not until the woman, presumably the mother of one if not both boys, also told them to, calling them a very vile name in the process. The boys were shoved inside a patrol car and as it drove off, the woman followed them in her own car.

The remaining two officers came up to us and the older of them said to me, “Miss, you’ll have to come with us down to the station to give an official statement.”

I nodded while the officer told his partner, “Ted, you go down to this lady’s car with her and pick up those items they left behind. We’ll be able to get prints from them, and take any pictures of whatever damage might have been done.”

And that was that. Sean came with me to the station in my car, which luckily the punks hadn’t had time to kill, I gave my statement, and both boys who were 17 and 18 years old, were booked with criminal charges for harassment, destruction of private property, setting off a homemade bomb, vandalism and arson. We found out from overhearing the tall woman speak that only one of the boys was hers, (they knew each other from school apparently) but she had found out only yesterday that both were involved in some sort of online anti-gay organization, which was ironic – her words – because she thought her son was secretly gay. She hadn’t pressed the issue, not wanting to alienate him.

Apparently, despite the fact that his mother didn’t have a problem with his being attracted to other males, her son did, and chose to express his self-loathing through hatred and violence. The mother, a single parent, who was three years divorced from a very violent man, broke down in tears at that point. She was given over into the hands of a resident counselor and Sean and I heard no more.

We went home soon after that. At that point I was exhausted from the entire evening’s events and I kept yawning as I drove. Neither of us said a word to the other for the entire ride. I assumed Sean was still upset with me for running off after the little hooligans the way I did, and I didn’t entirely blame him. If I were in his shoes, I thought, I’d be upset too.

Did that mean he loved me?

Either way, I just wanted to go home and fall into bed.

We arrived at the complex, I parked, and we both walked upstairs. I unlocked my apartment and Sean followed me in without an invitation. I sat down on a chair in my sitting area, my purse on the floor, and he just stood there before me, staring at me.

Then he began to pace.

Well, something heavy was obviously weighing on his mind. Feeling the need to break the silence, which was becoming uncomfortable, I asked, “Do you want some water?”

“What?” he asked, startled out of his thoughts. He frowned at me. “You ran after those two boys without a thought to your own safety, didn’t you?”

His question wasn’t accusatory. He sounded more curious than mad, in fact. Curious myself as to what was going on inside that shiny, bald dome of his, I answered, “No. Are you mad?”

Sean shook his head. “Yes. And no. You really weren’t afraid to go after them?”

I shrugged. “No. Besides, they ran away after I called out for them to stop. They were cowards. There wasn’t any reason to be afraid. Maybe I was too angry to be afraid.”

Sean studied me, and I looked down at my hands, nervous suddenly. “I’m usually a huge coward,” I added quickly. “I generally hate confrontations, and instead of standing up for myself, I normally end up crying.”

“You stood up for yourself and me to Nancy very well tonight,” Sean pointed out.

“An exception to the rule, believe me,” I said bitterly.

Sean came and sat down in the chair next to me. “And you always argue with me,” he continued.

“You don’t treat me like I’m a worthless nobody who can’t ever do anything right,” I answered quietly.

“I think you’re very brave. Sometimes a little reckless, but always brave. You may not see it, Carrie, but you are.”

I looked up at him, made brave by his kind words.

He reached out and gently touched my cheek. “You’re also very tough, I think.”

“Yeah, right,” I said in a voice that had become choked. “Then why am I starting to tear up now?”

Sean grinned. “Because you’re a girl and that’s what girls do. It doesn’t mean you’re not brave. It doesn’t mean that you don’t stare down fear and go charging into the thick of things.”

I wiped my eyes. “So maybe I’m brave. So what?”

“So…” he hesitated and rubbed a hand nervously over his head. “So, I need to tell you something. Something really important.”

I sat up straight, on the alert now. “What is it?”

“I’ve been…slowly – steadily…for a long time…” He grimaced, knowing that he wasn’t doing a good job of expressing himself. “I’ve liked you for a long time Carrie. Even before you would talk to me, I liked you. I thought you were pretty, but you were sad. Then I got my chance at the shower, and I’ve told you all about me, and you’ve accepted that. Accepted me for who I am. That means the world to me.”

I nodded, unsure where he was taking this, though I did hope and wish for him to say certain words to me. Three words, in fact.

“I’m crazy about you, Carrie. You drive me crazy.”

Sean stopped talking, and I just waited. I could feel that he was not done speaking; he was gathering his courage. My stomach was tied in knots, yet I waited patiently.

“I – I love you.” Sean let out a breath, as if relieved to finally have it out. “I’ve fallen in love with you.”

I couldn’t help it. My eyes swam with tears that I wiped away with the back of my hand. “That’s very coincidental,” I said in a wobbly voice. “Because I have too.”

I expected Sean to grab me up and kiss the stuffing out of me, but he just sat still, not even touching me.

“Do you really?” he asked me. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “Yes. I love you.”

He grabbed my hands up in his. He was very tense. “If I asked you to run away with me tomorrow, if I asked you to marry me tomorrow, could you do that? Could you maybe envision living the next 50 years with me?”

Again, he was asking the most oddly probing questions. There had to be a reason behind it. “Don’t you think it’s kind of soon to be talking about running away together?” I asked.

Sean shook his head. “I want a family. I want a wife and I want a couple of kids. I want to buy a house with a white fence and bay windows with a big back yard and a tree house. I want to be a father, a good one. I need to be with someone who wants those things too.”

“Oh,” I said. I took a deep breath and studied his face. I knew that he made me happy. I knew that with him I was safe. I knew that one day I wanted a husband and maybe some kids too. If I couldn’t picture myself with Sean, whom I knew that I loved, than there had to be something wrong with me.

“I can picture it,” I finally said. It wasn’t like he was asking for a commitment today anyways.

Sean took a deep breath as if to steady himself. He leaned forward and put his forehead to mine. “That’s real good. In that case, I need to tell you something, one last thing about me. If you decide you can’t handle it, I’ll understand, but I think you’re brave enough and strong enough to handle it. No one knows what I’m going to tell you, Carrie. Not Isaac, not Genny, not my boss, not anyone. If I tell you this, you have to swear first that you won’t, on pain of death, ever tell anyone what I’m about to tell you.”

Whoa. Sean was dead serious. I trusted him though, and I nodded my consent. That wasn’t good enough for him though. “Do you swear, Carrie?” he asked earnestly.

I swallowed the tension that created a lump in my throat and I said the words. “Yes. I swear I won’t tell a soul.”

He nodded and took a better grip on my hands, only them lightly but firmly. He was so tense, and that made me nervous. Sean closed his eyes for a moment as if praying, then opened them and looked me straight in the eye.

“I didn’t start out life as Sean Whalen. Sean is a name I was given about three years ago.”

I blinked, not understanding. “Given?”

Sean rubbed my anxiously. “By the Feds after I swapped information on my old boss’s operation in exchange for my life.”

I frowned at him. “The Feds gave you the name Sean. Is this for real?”

He nodded. “This is the part you have to swear to never tell.” He leaned forward and put his lips to my ear, as if he were afraid there was someone else in my apartment who could overhear him. “I’m in the Witness Protection Program.”

I jerked my hands out his so fast. “What?” I exclaimed. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” he said uncomfortably. “I’m not going to repeat it.”

I stood up. I couldn’t help myself. It was impossible to sit for me to sit down. I started pacing up and down the room, trying to wrap my mind around what he had just told me. I found that I couldn’t do it, so I sat back down. “Explain,” I demanded.

“My boss is in jail, for now. He would like nothing more than to find me and kill me; in fact he did try. That’s why I’m in the program. If he ever gets out, he’ll want to come after me. If the goons that are still loyal to him on the outside ever find me, they’ll try to kill me. I’ve been in the program for five years now. I’ve been here in Vegas as Sean for three. I’ve been safe here. No one has found me here.”