One Way Or Another You Will Pay (12 page)

I
roll my eyes. “That’s never gonna happen, so let’s not go …”

“It
can happen.” He sits forward. “I’ve done some
big
favors for some
big
guys here and they are happy to reciprocate.”

Brag!
Brag! Brag!

As
if I would ever consider fucking this piece of shit. I love Bear so much that the thought of touching another man makes me feel physically ill.

“All
I have to do is ask.”

All
I really want is for him to brag about Ingrid, but he doesn’t.

“So,”
I say, ignoring his comments, “how’s the prison food? Getting your daily dose of quinoa? Wheatgrass?”

“I
dream of you,” he says, ignoring my question. “My fantasies about you are …” he shakes his head and runs his tongue slowly over his lower lip.

I
fight to keep my face expressionless.

“Last
night, it was you spread eagled in the back seat of my Merc …”

You
don’t have a Merc anymore, you arsewipe!

“
…your top hitched over your neck. I mean,
around
your neck; your tits exposed, your nipples hard hot, waiting to be sucked.”

His
hand surreptitiously moves toward his crotch.

I
slam the phone down and jerk to my feet.

He
jumps to his. “Sit the fuck down!” he mouths. “Before I make you
really
regret it. This time I won’t tease, you hear?”

Even
though I have to lip read his threats, they are so terrifying to me, I slump back in my chair and pick up the receiver.

“You
think you’re so smart?” he sneers. “You think I can’t get to you, to your beloved children? Your significant other? HUH?”

Now
that’s what I wanted to hear.

“I
am connected. I’m in here, behind bars, but still, I’m connected.”

Keep
talking, you bastard, this call is being recorded.

“Oh,
please, Tom!” my voice is sneering.

“Yeah,
laugh if you will, but I have four words for you. The ties that binds. Four words. The ties …that …binds. Get it?”

“No,”
I say. “I
don’t
get it.”

“Yeah.
I should have known who I was talking to. Sometimes I forget I’m not talking to one of my peers. I forget it’s
you
I’m talking to.”

Silence.

“Not everyone is as shallow and disloyal as you are. Not everyone is calculating and manipulating and…”

“You
got me here to insult me?”

“…gets
a storage locker and hides stuff like a sneaky thief, who steals from her loyal and faithful husband. I snap my fingers and things get done. Just you remember it.”

He
brags and I sneer, he threatens, I roll my eyes, he intimidates and I stifle a yawn.

It’s
a relief when visiting hours comes to an end.

“Well,
I have to go now,” I say. “Thanks for your …your
pep talk
and your never-ending uplifting and encouraging words.”

He
twists his mouth around. “Don’t be late the next time.”

I
stare at him.

He
leans in. “No amount of security bars and remote gates and high fences and motion sensor spotlights can stop a man when he wants what he wants.”

I
feel my insides fall at his words. Perhaps I’m too transparent because he smiles. A big, genuine, pleased smile that reaches his eyes.

“Malls
aren’t secure, schools aren’t secure, public restrooms aren’t secure, school restrooms…you have to be careful these days, Mrs. Botha.”

It’s
a strain trying to maintain an impassive face.

“You
underestimate me.” He leans in further, his eyes bulging. “I’m like 50 Cents; I’ll die trying.
Die
trying. But I won’t die alone. I’ll take …” he jerks his chin at me.

I’m
so shocked at his words, I remain glued to my seat.

Not
him. He’s energized by the look on my face.

He
hangs up the receiver, springs to his feet, and casually walks away, whistling
P.I.M.P
by 50 Cents, from the album,
Get Rich or Die Trying.

As
far as I can remember, he only used to listen to classical music, not anything with words, so this
P.I.M.P
is definitely prison influenced.

At
the door, he turns, looks at me, and winks.

When
I do get into my car, I don’t drive off. Instead, I sit and stare ahead. What do I do?

I
wish I could talk to Bear about my conversations with Tom, my fears, but …

Ritchie?
Well, he appears to have a lot on his plate right now.

****

All I want to do is go to bed, close my eyes and be alone with my thoughts. Savannah’s kidnapping, Tom vicious threats, and Bears withdrawal has taken its toll on me.

I’m
weepy and tired.

But
Soong’s having this huge cancer fund-raising Halloween party, which I feel compelled to attend.

It’s
for adults and children and we purchased tickets months ago for it.

Even
though I’m feeling jet-lagged, for my kids’ sake, I drag myself into my bedroom and morph into Morticia.

My
skirt is long, black and flared, my top is black with batwing sleeves. Black lipstick, heavy eyeliner, and a black wig I purchased months ago on eBay, completes the picture.

Fatigue
and lack of sleep produces panda eyes and a greyish white pallor. Not very nice under normal circumstances, but it’s befitting for Morticia.

In
the next room, Warren paints Bear’s face green with food colouring while Amy works wax into Bear’s hair.

When
I see Frankenstein in front of me, I laugh. Genuine laughter.

He
blushes and the red seeps through the green, making me laugh harder.

“Lemme
fix your hair,” I say.

He
sits down on the bed, while I use more wax to box-style his hair. “All done!” I say and plant a kiss on his shoulder.

“Thanks,”
he says and gets to his feet. Under normal circumstances, he would have held my waist while I fiddled with his hair, snuck in some inappropriate touching, and told me that he loves me. But today, he doesn’t do any of that.

Sadness
washes over me and a frog lodges itself in my throat.

At
the door, he pauses, turns, and looks at me. In his eyes, I see a flicker of what I believe is longing. He has to miss me. I’m certain of that. For a few seconds, we lock eyes, before he drags his away.

I
turn my attention to the kids. Warren is dressed in his skeleton costume, while Amy is dressed in a wicked fairy costume – all black and silver.

Little
Savannah is dressed as a tiny fairy, Amy’s hand-me-down costume. Not scary, but she likes the glittery costume. Likes anything Amy has.

We
all cram into a cab and head for Soong’s.

With
Soong’s massage business doing so well and Mike getting the promotion he’s coveted, they have been able to move into a huge, double storey home in Turramurra, a neighbouring suburb of Wahroonga. Perfect for raising their two kids, Soong’s nine-year-old son Charlie and Mike and Soong’s two year old, Elizabeth, who looks like a porcelain doll with her jet-black hair, grey eyes and white skin.

The
house is old, with floorboards that talk to you, but it’s spacious and inviting. My kids call it the Harry Potter house because of the number of tiny windows it has, not to mention the original structure.

The
party is thumping with an eerie, Halloween feel – a DJ with lights and smoke, while skulls, pumpkins and skeletons litter the place. About a hundred people, friends mainly, trip over each other.

We
paid an entrance fee of $20 per adult and $10 per child, with all proceeds going to Breast Cancer. Everyone brought a plate of something too and whatever they are drinking. There are also raffles of Estee Lauder gift baskets and holiday vouchers to be won.

A
great way to raise funds, I must say.

The
kids have a wonderful time while I help Soong out in the kitchen. I’m not in the party spirit, but I try for the kids’ sake.

Just
before midnight, I look around for Bear. He’s nowhere to be seen. I step outside onto the long patio and spot him in the corner in the dark. Next to him, in her stroller, is Savannah, fast asleep in spite of the loud music.

He
sits shoulders hunched, staring at the floor.

I
walk back inside, grab a beer, and make my way to him. Around him, I spot three empty beer bottles.

“Hi,”
I say, taking a seat next to him on the patio couch. “Come here often?”

White
teeth flash in the dark as he accepts the beer.

We
drink in silence for a while, the air around us heavy with misery. After a few minutes of silence, I get up to walk away.

He
grabs my hand. I turn to look at him. With his eyes on mine, he pulls me to him and sits me on his lap.

“I
miss you,” he whispers, his voice slurring a little.

Slowly,
I smooth his hair down. “I miss you,” I say, then lean my forehead against his, tears smarting my eyes.

He
reaches up and takes my face in his hands. “I love you, Arena.”

“I
love you, B…Bear,” I say as the tears that threatened to fall all day, cascade down my cheeks.

He
wraps his arms around me and holds me tight, the way I want to be held, the way I needed to be held by him for a while now.

“Don’t
cry,” he says as he wipes my tears. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. Somehow, I am going to fix this. I’m going to do what I need to do to keep my family safe. To keep my wife.”

“I’m
really sorry I hurt you and our beautiful family,” I say.

“You
once told me that you sleep well at night, because you do the right thing, Bear. I couldn’t sleep at night after hearing Tom was dying of cancer, Bear. My mind kept going to my mother and how she was in her last days, and I thought…like, maybe I should see him and if he’s that ill, maybe I should consider letting him see Warren. He’s asked for years and for years I denied him, but he was
dying
. Or at least he told me that.”

Bear
nods his understanding.

“I
couldn’t sleep at night. I kept questioning myself about it, about my refusal, and eventually, I went to see him for myself. What I did was dangerous but, Bear, no matter what Debbie did to you, if she was dying and she asked to see Amy, I know you, Bear, you wouldn’t refuse her a dying wish. You would do the right thing even if I disapproved of it.”

More
nodding.

“I
too haven’t recovered from the shock of losing Savannah and I too am struggling. The shock, the …the …” My voice breaks.

“It’s
okay, baby,” he whispers. “It’s okay. It’s behind us now, baby. I should have been more understanding. I want you back. I want us where we were two months ago.” He wipes away my tears and kisses my lips. “I can’t function without you. Night times are so hard on me. I need to hold you when I sleep. I need you to be the last person I hold before I close my eyes. It’s crazy but it is what it is.”

I
hug him hard. “I miss you so much, Bear. These two months have been hell on me. I want us to move past this and I know it’s going to be hard because he’s still around and he’s not going away, Bear.”

He
moves back to look into my face. “We’ll handle it, okay? Do what needs to be done. I’ll back you up one hundred percent, no matter how hard it is. Just don’t leave me out of it. Tell me everything, deal?”

I
nod, even though I’m not sure if he can handle
everything
. “S…sure.”

He
smiles and plants a kiss on my lips. “I love you, Arena. I wanna take care of you. When you are sad or unhappy, man, I feel like I have failed. When you smile and laugh, then it’s like, I’ve done my job. I know you’re not happy and I’m not happy and …when you hold me like this, it’s like everything inside of me that’s …that’s broken and…and misplaced and damaged, they…Arena,” he shakes his head, “baby, the pieces come together and I’m fixed, I’m whole again.”