Silt, Denver Cereal Volume 8 (7 page)

Charlie hugged the girl again.

“
You helped them get the
killer, right?” Ivy said. “At least that’s what Tink
said.”

“
Yeah, I guess so,”
Charlie said.

“
Did you really kill Saint
Jude?” Ivy asked. “You’re sure he’s dead and not just gone
somewhere.”

“
He’s dead,” Charlie said.
“I saw it myself.”

“
Pan, why did
Jeffy . . .?”

Ivy pushed away from him and stepped back.
She started picking at her fingers. When she did, Charlie saw that
she was high.

“
Ivy, you have to get out
of here before they . . .” Charlie leaned close,
“ . . .figure out you’re high.”

“
I can’t do it anymore.”
Ivy slowly closed and opened her blue eyes. She was bone thin and
the landmarks on her face looked like peaks and valleys. “I wish he
had taken me. Saint Jude, you know. Why didn’t he take me instead
of Jeffy? No one would miss me, but I . . . I really
miss Jeffy.”

“
Me too,” Charlie said.
“But I’d miss you just as much.”

“
Tink said you live with
that psychic woman,” Ivy said. “Did you talk to Jeffy?”

Charlie blushed and nodded.

“
I keep having this dream
that he’s being tortured, like Saint Jude, only worse, a lot worse,
and Jeffy . . .” Ivy said. “I have it every time I
sleep. He’s calling for me, Pan, to help him. I don’t sleep
anymore.”

Ivy raised her eyebrows to indicate she used
methamphetamines to keep from sleeping. Charlie’s stomach tightened
with anxiety. He had to get the tiny girl out of there.

“
Listen.” Charlie put his
hands on Ivy’s shoulders like Aden did when he tried to talk sense
to Sissy. “My sister’s husband is in the waiting room. Go out there
and tell him you saw me and you want to talk to Delphie. She’s
nice. You can trust her. She’ll give you dinner and a place to
sleep. She’ll even let you talk to Jeffy.”

“
She will?”

“
I swear,” Charlie said.
“If you can talk to Delphie . . .”

“
She’s in the waiting
area,” the policewoman said. She gave Charlie a doubtful
look.

“
You’re sure?” Charlie
asked.

“
Medium-sized white woman
with a crazy flower skirt,” the policewoman said. “Red
hair.”

Charlie nodded.

“
She’s out there with Sam
Lipson,” the policewoman said. “Plus, I’ve known Delphinium for a
long, long time. She’s good people. You can trust her.”

“
Go with her,” Charlie
said. “She’ll take you to Delphie.”

“
But
Pan . . .” Ivy hugged him. “I miss you
too.”

“
Ivy, I don’t know what’s
going on here,” Charlie said. “I’m in some kind of trouble
and . . .”

“
There’s a bunch of
chicks,” Ivy said, under her breath so the policewoman wouldn’t
hear. “I saw four chicks. Nobody I recognize, but I saw Fawn in the
parking lot. She’s not on the streets no more.”

“
Good for her,” Charlie
said.

“
She’s in foster care,”
Ivy said. “Tink said she might have a forever home.”

“
One of my sister’s best
friend’s,” Charlie said.

“
I heard you’re dating,”
Ivy said.

Charlie knew the girl was trying to extend
her time with him. But the more she talked, the more anxious he
became.

“
Yeah,” Charlie said.
“It’s new.”

“
Tink’s always loved you
Pan,” Ivy said. “You guys are good together.”

“
You ready to see
Delphie?” Charlie asked.

“
Who?” Ivy looked up at
him with a blank face.

“
The psychic, you
remember, to talk to about Jeffy?”

“
I miss Jeffy, Pan,” Ivy
said.

Charlie’s eyes shifted to the policewoman.
The policewoman moved toward them to take Ivy.

“
Me too,” Charlie said.
“Go with this woman, Ivy. She’ll take you to the waiting
room.”

The policewoman maneuvered Ivy toward the
door.

“
Bye Pan.” Ivy turned to
look at him. “I love you!”

“
Love you too, Ivy,”
Charlie said.

When the door opened, he saw a man he
recognized, but couldn’t place. The man had dyed dark hair and a
big matching mustache. He wore a deep rust colored cowboy sports
jacket, boots, and jeans. He wasn’t as tall as Charlie, or Aden, or
even Uncle Seth. But he looked tough. The man gave Charlie a hard,
assessing look. The door closing broke his stare.

Charlie was alone. He stared at the door for
a moment and then went back to sitting on the table.

He hoped he didn’t have to pee in the
corner.

~~~~~~~~

Monday night—7:12 p.m.

“
How did it go?” Blane
asked, Heather when she came in the house.

“
It was hell to drop her
off at the shelter,” Heather said. “Just hell. I cried the whole
way home.”

Blane hugged her and she sighed.

“
I already feel like she’s
already our daughter,” Heather said.

“
That’s because she is.”
Blane nodded and held her tight. “How was therapy?”

“
Good,” Heather said. “We
talked about the night terrors. Her therapist thinks Tink is
re-experiencing her assault in those dreams. He thinks there’s
something in Tink’s daily life that makes her remember what
happened to her. ‘Triggers her.’ Those where his words.”

“
God, how awful,” Blane
said.

“
I guess they’ve talked a
lot about it,” Heather said. “Tink has no idea what might be
affecting her. She’s excited about Charlie and us. Her therapist,
well really a counselor, is through the shelter. We’d have to find
a new one when she comes home.”

“
Did you eat?” Blane
asked.

“
I got fast food for
Tink,” Heather said. “She loves the shakes. I didn’t eat there
because of the baby and I knew you’d give me hell.”

“
I would have,” Blane
smiled. He went around the bar in the kitchen and started getting
her dinner together. “I waited to eat in case you wanted to talk.
Plus, you know, I’m eating for two.”

Blane patted his stomach and Heather
laughed.

“
How’s Mack?” Heather
asked.

“
He wanted to stay up to
see you and Tink,” Blane said. “But he crashed around
five.”

“
Did you call our social
worker?” Heather asked.

“
I forgot.” Blane set out
a plate of herbed chicken, rice, and vegetables.

Heather didn’t say anything. She let the
silence pressure him.

“
Okay, okay, I give!”
Blane laughed. She smiled. “She said that she’ll get a report from
Tink’s counselor, talk to Tink, and we’ll see. She said that
everything looked really good when she stopped by at the Castle on
Sunday. She felt like Tink had found a ‘nice village’ to live
in.”

“
Village?”

“
That’s just what she
said,” Blane said.

“
Mmm,” Heather said,
because her mouth was full. “I’d hoped she would say that Tink
could move right in.”

“
I think they like to move
slowly,” Blane said. “It’s funny though?”

“
M-hmm?”

“
She asked if Tink said
anything about her assault,” Blane said. “She said the police think
they have a break in the case. They called her to ask if Tink could
come down to the station, but she wouldn’t let Tink go.”

“
Oh? Why?”

“
She thought it was too
much,” Blane said. “Especially if she’s triggered. She said when
they had a firm lead and a real case, she’d let Tink talk to them.
She wasn’t going to let Tink be dragged through it again on a
‘maybe.’”

“
I like her,” Heather
said.

“
I do too,” Blane
said.

“
Do you think she likes
us?” Heather asked.

“
I don’t know,” Blane
said. “I hope so.”

Heather nodded. As if on cue, Mack began to
wail.

“
Finish up,” Blane said.
“I’ll get him ready for our run. Do you want to come?”

“
Just ate,” Heather
said.

Blane just looked at her. Most nights, Blane
and Mack ran while Heather walked the running path. While she
watched, her boys ran away from her and back again. Mack loved it.
She really liked the walks, but now that she was pregnant again,
she was harder than usual to get moving.

“
Sure,” Heather said.
“I’ll get dressed.”

“
That’s my girl,” Blane
said. “We’ll have cake when we get back.”

“
Bribes! I love
bribes!”

Heather yelled after him as he ran up the
stairs. For a moment, she stared off into space. She had the
feeling that things were changing. She nodded to herself and got
ready for her walk.

~~~~~~~~

Monday night—7:32 p.m.

The door opened and Charlie jumped to his
feet. The guy Charlie had thought was a friend of Uncle Seth’s was
standing in the doorway.

“
I have to pee,” Charlie
said.

The guy nodded, and gestured for Charlie to
come out. The guy didn’t say anything as they walked down the hall,
but Charlie had the distinct impression he was protecting him, not
keeping him captive. Just for a little privacy, Charlie went in a
stall and closed the door. He stayed there long after he finished
because the stall was familiar and safer than the little room.

“
Come on, son, we can’t
delay the inevitable,” Uncle Seth’s friend said. “Just no
point.”

Charlie blinked. MJ always
said something like that. He always said,
“You know what the LC always says? There’s no point in
delaying the inevitable.”
Charlie got up,
flushed, and opened the stall. Uncle Seth’s friend gave him a kind
look and a nod. Charlie was going to leave, but then he remembered
that Aden was trying to get him to wash his hands after he used the
toilet. He stopped near the door and went back to a sink. If he was
going to get into trouble, he may as well have clean
hands.

They walked back down the hallway. Uncle
Seth’s friend opened the door to the room he’d been in. There were
two men, cops, sitting on one side of the table. Uncle Seth’s
friend moved Charlie into a seat on the opposite side of the table.
Then he did something weird. He stood near the door.

The guy with the mustache, the one Charlie
remembered but couldn’t place, didn’t like that Uncle Seth’s friend
was there, but clearly couldn’t do anything about it. He cleared
his throat as a way of indicating that this was his show. Charlie
squinted.

He innately liked the guy with the mustache.
He wasn’t sure why, but he did. The man had dark eyes and the
brownish skin of someone from Mexico or maybe one of the tribes.
His teeth were a little snaggled—like Charlie’s had been before he
started braces. He looked smart.

Maybe more than anything, he had a really
great haircut.

Charlie leaned back in his chair. The man’s
eyes seemed to laugh.

“
You seem to be at the
center of a lot of my problems,” Mustache Cop said.

“
You sure that’s not some
kind of projection,” Charlie said. “Freud said that we project our
anxiety and anger onto other people as a mechanism of defense
against our own emotions. Are you anxious? Angry?”

Mustache Cop looked at Charlie and
blinked.

“
I knew your father,”
Mustache Cop said.

“
Oh yeah?”

“
Never liked the
man.”

“
Well, he’s been dead a
long time,” Charlie said. “Maybe it’s time to get over
it.”

Mustache Cop gave Charlie a steely look.

“
Therapy works,” Charlie
said.

Mustache Cop laughed. Charlie smirked.

“
I’ve had a number of
threatening calls about you.” Mustache Cop raised his eyebrows to
ask Charlie what he thought of that. Charlie shrugged. “O’Malley
might not invite me to his next party, which I don’t care about but
my wife loves those music things. General Hargreaves told me if I
didn’t go easy on you, he wouldn’t sign the recommendation for my
next promotion. I got a call from your coach who told me if you’re
injured, he won’t let his kid mow my lawn anymore.”

“
Sounds rough,” Charlie
said.

“
You know what hurt the
most?”

“
Sandy won’t cut your hair
anymore?”

“
That’s just mean,” the
man said. “Dirty.”

Uncle Seth’s friend covered a laugh with a
cough. Charlie leaned forward.

“
What do you want?”
Charlie said in a low intimate tone. “My family must be crazy with
worry. The little kids have been through a lot. They can’t handle
this kind of thing. And that police lady said Sam was in the lobby.
He’s not young and they go to work early. Can we just get this over
with? And . . .”

The man looked up at Charlie.

“
Don’t I get a
lawyer?”

“
Yes, actually, you get
another threatening Hargreaves,” the man smiled. “She’s in the
lobby making the desk Sergeant’s life hell. I wanted to talk to you
first.”

“
Isn’t that
illegal?”