| General Fiction posted February 25, 2024 | Chapters: |
...26 27 -28- 29... 
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Lies like snowballs grow and grow
A chapter in the book Life's Twisted Road
Life's Twisted Road - Chap 28
by Begin Again
| Background A time when the nuclei of three generations unraveled, exploded, and tragically, changed their lives forever. |
END OF CHAPTER 27
"If he asks about Juan, I can't deny it. Everyone in our neighborhood knows I am friends with him." Becky grabbed a paper towel from the machine and wiped her face. "What if they've already talked to Juan?"
"So, you're friendly to the neighborhood pool guy. That's not a crime. You can't go in there acting like you're afraid or he's going to suspect you're hiding something. He'll start grilling you until you cave. Trust me. My mom and dad try those tactics on me all the time. Cry, it gets them every time."
"I'm not you, Nat. I don't know how to cry on demand. You don't think they'll yell at us, do you? That would make me cry."
"I don't know how they'd know about the Qwik Trip. No one saw us so it's probably not about that. And if they talked to Juan for some reason, he's not going to tell them anything."
"I guess we won't know until we go to the office."
"Come on, Beck, put on your game face. We've got this."
"Wait! One other thing, what if they ask you about all those scratches? I'm glad I wore pants. But how are you going to explain it."
"I don't know but I'm sure something will come to me."
*****
"If he asks about Juan, I can't deny it. Everyone in our neighborhood knows I am friends with him." Becky grabbed a paper towel from the machine and wiped her face. "What if they've already talked to Juan?"
"So, you're friendly to the neighborhood pool guy. That's not a crime. You can't go in there acting like you're afraid or he's going to suspect you're hiding something. He'll start grilling you until you cave. Trust me. My mom and dad try those tactics on me all the time. Cry, it gets them every time."
"I'm not you, Nat. I don't know how to cry on demand. You don't think they'll yell at us, do you? That would make me cry."
"I don't know how they'd know about the Qwik Trip. No one saw us so it's probably not about that. And if they talked to Juan for some reason, he's not going to tell them anything."
"I guess we won't know until we go to the office."
"Come on, Beck, put on your game face. We've got this."
"Wait! One other thing, what if they ask you about all those scratches? I'm glad I wore pants. But how are you going to explain it."
"I don't know but I'm sure something will come to me."
*****
CHAPTER 28
Principal Wyatt offered a friendly smile toward the teenagers as they entered the office. "Come in, girls. This is Sheriff Jackson and Officer Jones. They'd like to ask you a few questions about one of your friends."
"Our friends?" Becky raised an eyebrow. "Our friends don't break the law." She smiled innocently.
Jackson addressed a question to Becky, "I've been told you know a fellow who lives in the Anderson cabana."
"Juan, the pool guy." Becky tried to stay calm like Natasha had told her to do. "I see him all the time when he's cleaning the pools."
"Has he ever sold drugs to either of you?"
Natasha pushed back. "Drugs? That's crazy. Becky and I don't do that stuff. Why would you ask us something like that?"
"Whoa, calm down. No one is accusing either of you of anything. It's just a simple yes or no question." Jackson watched the girls' reactions. He could tell Natasha was the feisty one, the leader so to speak.
Two students entered the office and stood at the counter, staring at the group gathered outside Principal Wyatt's office. The principal stepped to the counter. "Marge, could you see to these two students' needs? I'm sure they want to get back to class."
"Maybe we should move into your office. We'd have more privacy in there." Without waiting for an answer, Jackson opened the door marked Principal. "Ladies."
Moaning, Natasha collapsed into an office chair, holding her stomach. "I think I need to go to the nurse. I'm going to throw up." She turned toward her friend, "Becky, maybe you should call my mom."
Jackson knelt so he could talk face-to-face with Natasha, showing his concern. "Are you sick?"
She nodded, "I'm not feeling well."
Jackson applied a little pressure. "Is it something I said? Maybe about Juan?"
"No, of course not." Natasha shifted her eyes to Becky and then back to Jackson. "I —uh —" Her voice quivered. "I've been hiding something. Something bad."
"Oh, can you tell me what it's about? Maybe I can help."
"No, I need to go to the nurse." She started to cry. "Mr. Wyatt, please call my mom. I've got to tell her something and it's really important."
Jackson nodded to the principal. "I think you should let Becky take Natasha to the nurse. And go ahead and call her mom." He turned back to the girls. "We can have our conversation on another day, okay? Hope you feel better, Natasha."
Jackson followed the girls out of the office and watched them enter the nurse's office. "Those two are hiding something, but what?"
"If it wasn't for Gabby, we might never have found out about Juan's side business. Do you think there might be more to it than scrounging for a few bucks? Charlie's digging into this Juan guy. Want me to pay him a visit?"
"Not just yet. Right now, all we've got him for is selling a few packets to Bobby. I think there might be more to this.'
"Hmm, like a drug ring in this hick town of ours?"
"Even hick towns grow up. I don't know, but my gut tells me those girls know more than they're telling us. We'll give them a day or two to stew. Maybe one of them will crack." Jackson slapped his officer on the back. "Let's go get some lunch. On me."
"Sounds good. I'm hungry."
"I know. I can hear your stomach growling up a storm." Jackson laughed. "Just kidding."
As the two officers left the building, Jackson mulled over the girls' reactions and what made Natasha sick. She was hiding something, but what?
******
Becky wrapped her arm around Natasha's waist and helped Natasha into the nurse's outer office. Once they were out of earshot, she whispered, "What are you doing, Natasha? You've got something to tell and it's bad. Like Big Frank? Are you trying to get us killed?"
"Shut up and listen. We've only got a minute. During Christmas, when I was in the hospital for a few days, my roommate told me how she got out of trouble once. I will use her story and it doesn't involve Juan, Frank, or any drugs. You've just got to keep quiet. Okay?"
"I hope you know what you're doing." Becky stopped talking to Nat when the nurse entered the room. "Mr. Wyatt sent us here. Natasha's sick."
"Oh, dear. Bring her into room one. She can lie down in there." She turned to Becky. "Maybe you should go back to class. I'll take good care of her."
Becky squeezed her friend's hand and Natasha whispered, "I've got this." She wasn't as sure as her friend, but she trusted her. She nodded and headed back to class.
After Becky left, the nurse sat beside the bed. Her soothing voice urged Natasha to talk, "Can you tell me what's wrong, Natasha? Does something hurt?" She carefully examined the jagged cuts and bruises on her arms and legs. "Do these have anything to do with what's bothering you?"
Natasha nodded and started to cry, but this time she was sobbing, fighting to catch her breath. If she was going to pull this off, she needed everyone to feel sorry for her.
"It's okay, sweetie. I'm here to help. You can tell me anything. It's going to be all right." The nurse picked up a tissue box and opened it, handing it to Natasha.
The teenager wiped her eyes and then took another to blow her nose. "Is my mom coming? I need to see her. I've got to tell her — about those." Natasha nodded toward the cuts and bruises before burying her head in the pillow, mumbling, "I'm sorry, but it wasn't my fault."
******
Five hours later, Ava and her daughter left UW Hospital's Emergency Room. It had been a grueling afternoon. One neither of them would ever forget.
The DCFS officer exited the building, only steps behind them. Things hadn't gone exactly how she'd wanted, but she was sure after a little encouragement she'd get the evidence she needed. She was up for promotion and this case might be the key to getting it. She tossed a quick wave at Natasha and Ava. "I'll be in touch, until then, you've got the packet. Read it over and follow it."
Natasha waved back, but Ava just glared her way and climbed into her car. "Get in, Natasha. You act as if she's your best friend."
"She's just trying to be nice, Mom," Natasha smirked at Ava. "At least she believes me."
"I didn't say I didn't believe you, but —" Ava stopped. She had just had her family torn apart and she had no idea what to do about it. She couldn't begin to imagine how this train wreck had happened. All she was sure of was that she was caught in the middle.
"But what?" Natasha snapped. "You weren't there. I was. Maybe if you'd listened to me more often, we wouldn't be having this conversation. He did things he shouldn't have done. Is it my fault?" Natasha screamed at her mother. "Is it?"
Ava gripped the steering wheel, silently ordering herself to stay calm."Nobody said it was your fault. I'm just trying to understand."
"Maybe if it was one of your stupid Grey's Anatomy shows you'd get it. Isn't that all you care about?"
"You're being mean, Nat? I didn't do this to you." Ava reached across the seat for her daughter's hand, but Nat snatched it away.
"You let him yell at me all the time. He thought he could treat me any way he wanted. Well, now he'll find out he can't. Payback's a bitch."
"Payback? This isn't a game, Nat. Listen to yourself."
"No, this time you're going to listen to me." She turned her head away and stared out the window. For once, she was in the driver's seat and she liked it.
*****
Ava pulled her car into Isabella's driveway. She couldn't imagine telling her mom what was happening. She could already see that "I warned you" look spread all over her face.
Lost in thought, she jumped when Natasha snarled, "Mom, why are we here? You aren't going to tell Grandma about this, are you? She'll never shut up about it and her whole card group will know. I'll be the center of gossip. It's our business, not hers."
Ava stared at her daughter, her baby. How could any of this be happening? She closed her eyes for a moment, uttering, "I have to tell her."
"No, you don't. Let's go home." Nat leaned over, trying to start the car.
"You can't go home. DCFS says you need to live somewhere other than our house."
"What? Why?" Nat twisted up her face and spat out her words, "I'm not going to live anywhere else. They can't tell me what I can or can not do."
"I'm afraid they can and they have. You have the choice of staying with your grandmother or in a foster home."
"A foster home. Is everyone going nuts?" Natasha crossed her arms on her chest and pouted. "I'm not going in there."
"Yes, you are. Let's go. You can go upstairs, and I'll tell her myself. Okay?"
Natasha climbed out of the car, slamming the car door. She charged across the lawn like a raging bull and stormed into the house. Her boots stomped against each step. The final sound of the slamming door echoed down the hall. This wasn't going the way she had expected. Frustrated, she threw herself across the bed and cried —real honest-to-goodness tears.
*****
Isabella placed a bowl of gnocchi covered in a marinara sauce in front of Ava. "I doubt you've eaten anything today."
Ava shook her head. "I'm not hungry."
Isabella stood beside her daughter. She wanted to reach out and hug her, to fix her world again, but she knew better. For whatever reason, Ava was angry as if Isabella had caused this tragedy. She felt the coldness radiating from her daughter's stature, so she remained silent, waiting.
Ava toyed with the food Isabella had prepared, absent-mindedly twirling her fork through the sauce and then setting it down without taking a bite. She wasn't good under pressure like her mother. Of course, Isabella stewed and worried over problems until she sorted out a solution, but she wasn't like her. She'd inherited her father's temper, not to say he was a violent man because he wasn't. Their plan of defense against a problem was to utilize every obscene swear word imaginable and then repeat it a thousand times. It seldom accomplished anything except scaring every living, breathing person or animal far, far away.
Depleted for the moment, Ava pushed the bowl of gnocchi aside and sat, fixated on the screen of her cell. The packet of DCFS papers lay on the table like a beeping siren, physically screaming, "I'm still here. This isn't going away."
Ava pulled her Green Bay Packer sweatshirt over her head and tossed it on the table. She stretched and twisted her aching shoulders, before snapping, "Say something. Don't just sit there, staring at nothing."
Isabella's finger traced circles on the tablecloth. She lifted her head to gaze at her daughter, judging what she should say. Sighing, she responded, "What do you want me to say, Ava? You want me to say I believe her. Well, I don't. You've been married to the man for almost twenty years. Do you honestly think he's capable of molesting his daughter?"
"No — he wouldn't, but why would Natasha tell such vicious lies about her dad? She said he caught her skipping school. He got mad and started throwing things. He tossed her on the bed and —" Ava shuddered and buried her face in her eyes, muttering through her fingers, "Oh God, Mom, she says he laid on top of her — touching her."
Isabella's voice was low but firm. "And you want to believe her? I understand she's your child, but she's lying. He might have a temper, and I can believe he might have thrown things, even punched a wall, but he wouldn't hurt her. The man I know wouldn't do what she says."
"Then why is she doing this? Our family will be destroyed. He'll never be the same."
"Would you? If someone accused you of molesting someone, how would you react? He could go to prison. If convicted, he will never be able to be around children, including his own. I can't blame him for hating the world, right now."
"So you're taking his side? What about your granddaughter? What if she's telling the truth?"
"She's not. Nat's a troubled child. You've pampered her and refused to admit when she's wrong."
"She's my child. I'm supposed to protect her. She wants me to believe her. Isn't that my job?"
"No, your job is to show her the difference between right and wrong. You're not her friend, you are her mother."
A string of filthy words exploded from the kitchen doorway. "Are you going to sit there and listen to this bitch? She's calling me a liar. Do something?" Natasha fell into her mother's arms, crying. "It's not my fault. It's not my fault. Tell her it's not my fault."
Isabella pushed her chair back and stood. Her arthritic knees and spine screamed in pain. Her temples throbbed, but none of that amounted to the agony in her heart. She sighed and offered her thoughts, "Maybe you believe it's not your fault, Nat, but I don't think it's your father's fault either. He's not that kind of man." She took a deep breath and left the room.
Ava stared at her daughter, her baby. How could any of this be happening? She closed her eyes for a moment, uttering, "I have to tell her."
"No, you don't. Let's go home." Nat leaned over, trying to start the car.
"You can't go home. DCFS says you need to live somewhere other than our house."
"What? Why?" Nat twisted up her face and spat out her words, "I'm not going to live anywhere else. They can't tell me what I can or can not do."
"I'm afraid they can and they have. You have the choice of staying with your grandmother or in a foster home."
"A foster home. Is everyone going nuts?" Natasha crossed her arms on her chest and pouted. "I'm not going in there."
"Yes, you are. Let's go. You can go upstairs, and I'll tell her myself. Okay?"
Natasha climbed out of the car, slamming the car door. She charged across the lawn like a raging bull and stormed into the house. Her boots stomped against each step. The final sound of the slamming door echoed down the hall. This wasn't going the way she had expected. Frustrated, she threw herself across the bed and cried —real honest-to-goodness tears.
*****
Isabella placed a bowl of gnocchi covered in a marinara sauce in front of Ava. "I doubt you've eaten anything today."
Ava shook her head. "I'm not hungry."
Isabella stood beside her daughter. She wanted to reach out and hug her, to fix her world again, but she knew better. For whatever reason, Ava was angry as if Isabella had caused this tragedy. She felt the coldness radiating from her daughter's stature, so she remained silent, waiting.
Ava toyed with the food Isabella had prepared, absent-mindedly twirling her fork through the sauce and then setting it down without taking a bite. She wasn't good under pressure like her mother. Of course, Isabella stewed and worried over problems until she sorted out a solution, but she wasn't like her. She'd inherited her father's temper, not to say he was a violent man because he wasn't. Their plan of defense against a problem was to utilize every obscene swear word imaginable and then repeat it a thousand times. It seldom accomplished anything except scaring every living, breathing person or animal far, far away.
Depleted for the moment, Ava pushed the bowl of gnocchi aside and sat, fixated on the screen of her cell. The packet of DCFS papers lay on the table like a beeping siren, physically screaming, "I'm still here. This isn't going away."
Ava pulled her Green Bay Packer sweatshirt over her head and tossed it on the table. She stretched and twisted her aching shoulders, before snapping, "Say something. Don't just sit there, staring at nothing."
Isabella's finger traced circles on the tablecloth. She lifted her head to gaze at her daughter, judging what she should say. Sighing, she responded, "What do you want me to say, Ava? You want me to say I believe her. Well, I don't. You've been married to the man for almost twenty years. Do you honestly think he's capable of molesting his daughter?"
"No — he wouldn't, but why would Natasha tell such vicious lies about her dad? She said he caught her skipping school. He got mad and started throwing things. He tossed her on the bed and —" Ava shuddered and buried her face in her eyes, muttering through her fingers, "Oh God, Mom, she says he laid on top of her — touching her."
Isabella's voice was low but firm. "And you want to believe her? I understand she's your child, but she's lying. He might have a temper, and I can believe he might have thrown things, even punched a wall, but he wouldn't hurt her. The man I know wouldn't do what she says."
"Then why is she doing this? Our family will be destroyed. He'll never be the same."
"Would you? If someone accused you of molesting someone, how would you react? He could go to prison. If convicted, he will never be able to be around children, including his own. I can't blame him for hating the world, right now."
"So you're taking his side? What about your granddaughter? What if she's telling the truth?"
"She's not. Nat's a troubled child. You've pampered her and refused to admit when she's wrong."
"She's my child. I'm supposed to protect her. She wants me to believe her. Isn't that my job?"
"No, your job is to show her the difference between right and wrong. You're not her friend, you are her mother."
A string of filthy words exploded from the kitchen doorway. "Are you going to sit there and listen to this bitch? She's calling me a liar. Do something?" Natasha fell into her mother's arms, crying. "It's not my fault. It's not my fault. Tell her it's not my fault."
Isabella pushed her chair back and stood. Her arthritic knees and spine screamed in pain. Her temples throbbed, but none of that amounted to the agony in her heart. She sighed and offered her thoughts, "Maybe you believe it's not your fault, Nat, but I don't think it's your father's fault either. He's not that kind of man." She took a deep breath and left the room.
 Recognized |
I apologize for the length of this chapter and the story, but sometimes a story takes on a life of it's own. Last night as I finished this chapter, I knew I needed to flush out the emotions behind the characters a little bit more. The story is important to me and I can't just state the facts and move on. I appreciate everyone of you who have continued to follow. I promise you the end is near. Thank you.
ISABELLA - Natasha's grandmother
AVA - Isabella's daughter and Natasha's mother
DION - Star quarterback and Jason's best friend
JASON - Dion's best friend and teammate
COACH - the high school football coach and team counselor
GABBY - Jason's girlfriend and best friends with Natasha and Becky
BOBBY - Gabby's father
AUDREY - Bobby's sister and Gabby's Aunt
JUDY -THE BLONDE - Bobby's drinking date for the day
PADDY -THE JOGGER - A nice older Irish gentleman
AMANDA - Paddy's wife
LUCILLE LAKEWOOD - one of the arresting officers
CHARLIE - Department Manager for the Sheriff
JACKSON - the sheriff and the man dating Bobby's sister, Audrey
JUAN - Local pool boy and behind the scenes drug supplier
AUSTIN - semi driver and owner of Roscoe
ROSCOE - Austin's co-pilot, a German Shepherd
AL - a firefighter at the scene
TAYLOR - a town resident and mail carrier
ALEJANDRO - a local farmer
LAYLA - a registered nurse and Jackson's sister
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. ISABELLA - Natasha's grandmother
AVA - Isabella's daughter and Natasha's mother
DION - Star quarterback and Jason's best friend
JASON - Dion's best friend and teammate
COACH - the high school football coach and team counselor
GABBY - Jason's girlfriend and best friends with Natasha and Becky
BOBBY - Gabby's father
AUDREY - Bobby's sister and Gabby's Aunt
JUDY -THE BLONDE - Bobby's drinking date for the day
PADDY -THE JOGGER - A nice older Irish gentleman
AMANDA - Paddy's wife
LUCILLE LAKEWOOD - one of the arresting officers
CHARLIE - Department Manager for the Sheriff
JACKSON - the sheriff and the man dating Bobby's sister, Audrey
JUAN - Local pool boy and behind the scenes drug supplier
AUSTIN - semi driver and owner of Roscoe
ROSCOE - Austin's co-pilot, a German Shepherd
AL - a firefighter at the scene
TAYLOR - a town resident and mail carrier
ALEJANDRO - a local farmer
LAYLA - a registered nurse and Jackson's sister
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