My Calling (17 page)

As if she can read my mind, there’s movement in Saylor’s window and she pulls back the blinds. I lean forward to get a better view. She’s still in her pajamas, a pair of yoga pants and an oversized, off the shoulder t-shirt. Her blonde locks are knotted high on her head in a messy bun as she holds my coffee mug in her hands. I chuckle as I realize that I just staked claim on a hot pink ceramic mug that says, ‘
Watch out world, I’ve got my sassy pants on today
.’ That’s how much I love this woman, so much so that I’m claiming a mug that proclaims I wear sassy pants.

Satisfied that Saylor’s alive and well, I turn the key over and the engine roars to life. I look up to her window one more time. The engine must’ve caught her attention and she’s staring down at me. Our eyes lock but her’s don’t sparkle with her normal spunk, her happy smile is gone, and it rips my heart to shreds to see her like this because I did it to her. All those years ago, I should’ve been a man. I should’ve stepped up and told Saylor what Eddie told me, that we were all each other had left. It would’ve saved us both this heartache now and it would’ve given us so much more time together. I’m an idiot and I vow to spend the rest of my life making it up to her.

I back out of my parking spot, speeding to get to work on time. Work has never been a highlight for me, something that I look forward to, but right now, it’s my only connection to Saylor, my only way to keep her in my life. As much as I hate to admit it, I need this job. I pull into a spot and jog inside so I don’t get my ass chewed by the boss. I hang my head as I open the door because I never thought I’d answer to a boss. I spent the better part of my adult career building motorcycles and working on cars to make ends meet until Saylor took this job. Once again, I laugh at the things I’m doing for her but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Beckerdyte!” The boss barks at me as soon as I walk in the garage.

I take a deep breath and turn to him. His arms are crossed over his long torso, his nostrils flaring as he waits until I’m directly in front of him before he begins speaking.

“Warner called in, said she’d be here later today so you’re on rig wash duty,” he grumbles, turning around before I can respond.

A smile slowly creeps over my cheeks. Saylor knows the truth, she’s okay, and before the day is over, I’ll be able to plead my case to her. I’ll tell her the truth about the men that killed Eddie. It’ll break her when she learns that Eddie is dead because of me but it’s the only way for her to understand the real danger she’s been in. Hopefully, by the time I finish, Saylor will see my point of view and understand why Eddie was trying to force us together. The old man always looked out for both of us while he was here on earth and it seems he hasn’t stopped from up above either.

Saylor

The sight of the barbed wire lining the chain-link fence makes my heart palpitate. My neon green Mustang sticks out like a sore thumb in the sea of cars outside the state prison. I take a deep breath, it’s now or never. If I don’t open my car door and put my feet on the pavement right this second, I never will. In slow motion, I get out of the car and walk toward the drab building in front of me.
Come on, Saylor, it’s one foot in front of the other to seal your fate, your destiny.

My posture is hunched over, trying to blend in with the scenery. It’s not technically visiting hours so I’m a loner walking in by myself. There’s inmates in the prison yard playing basketball. I catch their attention, tempting them to shout obscenities and loud catcalls. My cheeks flame in embarrassment and I debate running back to my car and driving away as fast as possible. I’m about to pivot on the ball of my foot and make a mad dash when a vision of Beck appears in my mind.

When I got off the phone with the warden, who approved my visit today, I began to second guess myself, as I often do… case and point this exact moment. I made myself a mug of hot chocolate, just like Uncle Eddie used to do for me when I was a kid and uneasy about whatever lied ahead of me. It wasn’t until I was adding the extra marshmallows that I noted I had subconsciously retrieved Beck’s sassy pants mug to drink out of.

The man lied to me, stalked me… and made me the woman I am today. The woman I am is someone that my uncle would be proud of. I’ve sailed like Uncle Eddie told me to and there’s still wind in my sails to keep going. My dreams of helping kids like I once was, parentless kids, teenagers that don’t know love, is right at the tips of my fingers and I’m about to show Eddie just how fast I can sail. It won’t be easy, it won’t always be fun, but it will be one of the most fulfilling deeds I will ever accomplish in my life. As much as I want to hate Beck and as much as I should distrust him, the truth is that I can’t. I wouldn’t be who I am today without his guidance, even if it was without my knowledge. I’m not going to forgive him right away, I don’t even know that our relationship will ever be what it was just yesterday, but I need him to fulfill my new dream and if there’s anyone that will support me unconditionally, Beck will.

Pushing away my doubts, I lift my shoulders and continue to walk forward. My black leggings are tighter than the prisoners are used to and my hot pink tank top is a contrast to say the least next to their orange and gray uniforms but I keep my confidence and let out a sigh of relief as I get to the front window to sign in. Looking in the window, I seek solace from the guard on the other side until I notice his eyes are fixated on my boobs. He’s probably in his thirties, rocking a mega porn ‘stache, and a buzz cut, trying way too hard for the
Orange is the New Black
look.

I debated between wearing this and my work uniform since I’m headed there afterward, perhaps the latter would have been the safer choice. Clearing my throat, the guard takes his time lifting his gaze from my cleavage to my eyes. I roll my eyes and hand him my driver’s license. He takes my ID, helping himself to one more look at my chest before he begins to fill out the visitor’s log.

“Warner, huh? You Donnie’s daughter?”

Goosebumps pop over my arms as he calls me that. It’s been years since I’ve associated myself with Donnie Warner and here I am, in prison, being noted that I’m his offspring. Finding a poise I never knew I had, I lift my chin and nod, knowing it’s Beck and Eddie giving me the courage to be here right now.

“Yes, I am.”

Porn ‘Stache lets out a low whistle, calling to another guard behind him. A potbellied, bald man appears beside him, both of them taking their time to check me out and not even hiding it. I cross my arms, trying to hide myself and wishing I’d brought Beck with me. Even if I hate his guts right now, he’d be much better company than these two.

“Can I see my father now?” I ask, interrupting their wandering eyes.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Porn ‘Stache says, buzzing a door and pointing for me to walk through it.

Cautiously, I step through the doorframe. I’m not sure if I expected to be surrounded by criminals right away or what but I’m greeted by a female guard with her hair in a tight bun. Much like the other two men, her eyes travel up and down my body and I have to say I think she enjoyed my pat down way more than she should have. Finally, I’m sitting at a table, feeling violated and anxiously awaiting to be face to face with Donnie Warner.

There’s ten teeny, tiny tables that have two chairs at either side. The concrete walls are their natural color with nothing decorating them. In the back corner, by the door where a guard stands, there’s two vending machines. Every button on the soda one is flashing to notify people that it’s out of stock while the snack machine has one lone bag of beef jerky. Trying to distract myself from my meeting with my father, I try to picture life without Mountain Dew which is even scarier than the next few minutes ahead of me.

“Saylor Roxanne.”

I look away from the empty soda machine and am face to face with the man who gave me life. His voice sounds the same as it did a decade ago, just as duplicitous as ever. His face hasn’t changed much other than the crow’s feet around his eyes and the wrinkles on his forehead. His hairline has receded to the point that he only has a ring of hair around the outside of his head. Even after all these years have passed, he’s still the same man I’ve always known and without hearing anything other than my name, I know he hasn’t changed one bit.

Taking note of how well he looks compared to the other inmates, I nod toward him and comment, “I see you haven’t changed much since the last time we’ve seen each other.”

A Cheshire cat grin expands across his face and he leans back, his fingers templed as he inspects me from head to toe, unlike the others that did the same since I’ve arrived. The man is my father and the last time he saw me, I wasn’t even double digits yet.

“Not much, unlike you, Saylor, who has grown into quite the young woman. I see Eddie’s influence inspired you to permanently disfigure your body.” He gestures toward my floral tattoo and I roll my eyes. “Tsk, tsk, young lady, you shouldn’t roll your eyes.”

I clench my jaw as he tries to remind me of manners that he never instilled in me. Leaning forward, my elbows on the table, I hiss at him, “It’s a little late to be trying to act like my father, Donnie.”

He pauses briefly then gives a soft chuckle. “Feisty, just like your mother.”

“Who you let die. Then when I finally had a ‘normal’ childhood and someone who loved me like a parent, like you
should
have, you had him killed. Why? Why would you do that?”

My emotions take over and my last words come out as tears trickle down my cheeks as though I’ve just found out for the first time that Eddie died. The wound, although created years ago, will always be fresh in my mind like it happened minutes ago. My father should feel lucky there are guards around because as I sit here thinking about Eddie’s final moments and knowing this bastard is the reason he’s dead, the inner-Donnie in me wants to reach across the table and strangle him.

Very calmly, almost too calm, my father shakes his head. “It wasn’t me, Saylor. Find someone else to blame.”

“Bullspit! You blame me for being in here and you knew the only way to hurt me was to take Eddie away so that I fell into the system which would only make me more like you and my mother.” My chest is heaving as I’m fighting every urge to scream at him but I know if I do, our visit will be cut short and I can’t leave before I have answers.

My father looks over both his shoulders then leans across the table so our faces are mere inches away. “I do blame you because it’s your fault I’m here. At the same time, you did what you had to do to better yourself and I can’t fault you for that. Still, Eddie is the one that got himself killed for taking in that other kid.”

I scrunch up my nose. “What other kid?”

Donnie moves even closer and lowers his voice. “Jonathan Beckerdyte.”

Rolling my eyes again, I throw up my hands and sit up straight. “That’s ridiculous—” I hesitate, not sure what to call him. Last time I saw him, I addressed him as dad but he’s anything but that right now. “You’re grasping at straws trying to cover it up. You weren’t always an awful father, I remember you reading Amelia Bedelia to me before bedtime and saying my prayers with me. You couldn’t stand the thought that someone had filled your shoes. I know you put the hit out on Uncle Eddie and even for you, that’s low.”

“Saylor Roxanne, I’m disappointed that you think so lowly of me. Eddie was my brother. You
are
my daughter. I sell drugs, I gamble money that isn’t mine, I break the law, but I don’t kill my own family.”

I stare into the face of my father, hearing the sincerity in his voice. It’s like Beck, I want to hate him, be mad at him, blame it all on him, but my inner voice is telling me that Donnie, the man with the same face as me, is telling the truth.

“Th-then who did it?” I ask, afraid to hear what he’s about to say.

“That Beckerdyte kid was mixed up with the Crimson Crew.”

My heart sinks. The Crimson Crew is a gang that was started by a few runaways and they prey on kids that don’t have families. The rumor is the only way to prove your loyalty and become a member is to actually kill someone. If Beck was a part of the Crimson Crew, that means he took someone’s life.

“When Eddie and him first met, that kid was being held at gunpoint. Eddie got the kid straightened out, out of the gang world, and probably saved his soul although it cost him his own.”

“Beck, err, Jonathan didn’t kill Eddie though. He was standing by me, taking care of me…” Even before all this happened, Beck was tending to me like it was his calling.

“No, he didn’t, but he turned his back on them. Some newbie wanted in the gang and Eddie was their hit because of that young man.” Donnie leans back, tapping his fingers against each other, proud that he’s proven himself innocent. “So, is he still alive?”

Lost in my thoughts, his question takes me by surprise. “Who? Beck? Yeah, I work with him.”

The color drains from Donnie’s face and he leans close to me again, placing his hands on top of mine. “Get as far away from him as possible. Distance yourself, Saylor. This is your father giving you an order. Crimson Crew doesn’t forget rivalries. The fact that this Beck person is still alive is a miracle. I don’t want anything to happen to you, daughter.”

My heart flip flops at his paternal actions. I place my hand on top of his and give a light squeeze. “Thank you for telling me the truth.”

Donnie brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles lightly. “Be careful, Saylor.”

He wants me to tell him I’ll stay away from Beck but I can’t do it. Down deep, Jonathan Beckerdyte is my calling.

CHAPTER 24

Saylor

I’m still trying to wrap my mind around all the information my father shared… and the emotions that he evoked. My grief for Eddie still isn’t healed, I’m not sure it ever will be. My hatred for my father diminished slightly as he tried to protect me, his little girl. Then there’s Beck, the apparent reason my uncle is dead. He’s been trying to protect me all these years, maybe because of guilt, maybe because of loyalty, maybe love? Will I ever know the truth? It depends… how will I ever believe him again?