So Long and Goodnight...

Marshall stood in shocked silence, all the color having drained from his face. In the soft, dirty light from the street lamps outside, he looked like a zombie, a garish reflection of the monster he was inside.

“Y-you c-can’t be…” he stuttered now from fear rather than inebriation. He was now quite suddenly sober. “I killed you. I saw the car. You’re dead. You’re a ghost and you can’t be here.”

“Oh I’m here”, you said matter-of-factly. “I’m alive and I’m standing right in front of you.”

“Why? What do you want from me? Money? I don’t have any. What the hell do you hope to gain by blackmailing me like this?”

You threw back your head and laughed. The notion that this decrepit shell of a man may have possessed anything that you wanted was a joke to you.

“I don’t want anything from you,” you whispered as you shook your head in disgust. “I just want to know why.”

“Why what,” he sneered.

“Why you took my family from me. Why you killed them but left me to suffer in this shit hole with no one to turn to, to stop the bleeding that you inflicted on me and that I inflicted on myself.” Though you tried to remain calm and collected, you were slowly losing your grip on your emotions, letting the rage and fear and all those years of bitterness and resentment boil over into a flood of tears and hate. As you went on, totally unbridled, your voice rose to an almost animal roar and in one fell swoop, the predator became the prey. “My mother and my sister were my best friends, you son of a bitch and you stole them from me! Mom was beautiful and talented. She painted things so breathtaking that they actually made me weep. April was going to go to college. She could have been anything. They both had their whole lives ahead of them and you crept in like a fungus and you suffocated them with the drinking and the beatings and the emotional fucking torment that you poured on us! They were dead before you killed them. You murdered them every time your fists struck them. We loved you once a long, long time ago. Now you’re just a sad little man all alone in his big empty house. Does that make you feel better? Is that what you wanted? Why not just let mom go and take us away like she wanted to? Why did you have to end it like that? Why?”

Marshall didn’t utter a word. He just stood stone faced and staring at something only he could see. There was nothing but hate in his eyes and he had the audacity to actually smirk at your petulant little outburst.

Like a serpent striking at its prey, you reached out and smacked your father square across the face. He recoiled like he had just been shot and gaped at you in shock. No one had ever hit him and not left the scene on a stretcher. ‘It’ll be no different for this little bitch,’ he thought to himself. He would kill you both. He figured you were probably just bluffing about the microphone thing anyway. He did remember your little friend from before and frankly he was pretty sure that she wasn’t smart enough to pull something like this off. Damn thing probably wasn’t even turned on.
Marshall dropped the hand that had been holding his cheek and sauntered toward you in the sickly yellow light.

“You just did the last thing you’ll ever do, you little whore,” he said with a gritty smile and raised his fist to strike you but before he could deliver the first blow, Alexa stepped in front of you and blocked him.

“You’ll have to go through me first, jackass,” she huffed.

“My pleasure,” Marshall said with a chuckle.

Just as his fist began its fast descent to Alexa’s face, the room was filled with blue and red flashing lights. Outside, the sound of warbling sirens rose into the night sky.

Marshall’s fist froze just inches from Alexa’s wide eyes and his own eyes grew to twice their natural size. He shoved Alexa onto the couch and out of the way and took a shaky step toward you.

“You bitch,” he swore in a whispered hush. “You were serious. You set me up.”

“I just made you tell the truth,” you said, standing your ground.

“I’ll kill you, do you hear me? I will gut you like a fish while you scream, you little fucking slut!” He was still screaming obscenities at you when three armed police officers burst through the door, weapons drawn and pointed directly at Marshall.

“Don’t move, Marshall or I will shoot your ass do you hear me?” one of the officers threatened. You knew his voice. It was Officer Michael Greene. His wife used to babysit you and your sister when you were very young. She made the best snickerdoodles in the entire world. The officer to his left motioned for you and Alexa to get behind him and when you did, they moved to form a barrier between you and your dad. These men were people you had known your entire life, who had held you in their arms when you were just an infant and now they were risking their lives for you. You couldn’t help but feel a swell of gratitude.

“C’mon guys,” Marshall cajoled trying to act nonchalant. “You know I didn’t do anything wrong. Helena’s just being over dramatic.”

“Five years ago, Helena was dead,” Greene said with sadness in his voice. “Hell of a homecoming you’ve prepared for her here.” He glanced around the room, not even bothering to hide his disgust.

“We heard you confess, Marshall. Someone was nice enough to record it all for us and drop it off at the station. Never did get the guy’s name. Shame. Guy deserves a medal.”

“And you really believe it was me? These kids are trying to pull a fast one on you, man. You’re being punked by a bunch of damn juveniles.”

“I’ve known you since we were both in diapers, genius. I could pick your gravelly ass voice out of a crowd.”

“You’re wrong,” Marshall demanded.

“Tell it to the judge,” Officer Greene said, holstering his weapon and unclipping the set of handcuffs from his belt. Then a smile crossed his face and he looked back at his old friend. “Did you know that the judges’ wife and your wife were best friends? Yeah those two were pretty close as I recall. Actually, this whole damn town loved the hell out of your wife and daughter. That probably won’t have an effect on your trial though.” He chuckled under his breath, highlighting the extreme sarcasm of his last statement.

Officer Greene approached Marshall and looked him in the eye. “Now are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?”

“You can go to hell,” Marshall said and spat on him.

Greene wiped the spit from his face onto the cuff of his deep sky blue uniform shirt and shook his head slowly. “The hard way it is, then.” With one swift movement he drove his knee into Marshall’s groin and when he doubled over, he pulled him to the floor on his stomach and pinned one arm down while he cuffed the other. When both arms were shackled behind Marshall’s back, Officer Greene pulled him to his feet in one yank. Marshall screamed out in pain as his shoulders were pulled out of socket but Greene made no apology. “Oh what’s the matter? Did I hurt you? Why don’t you tell Helena how bad it hurt? I’m sure she’s got all the sympathy in the world for you, you steaming bag of dog shit.” He shoved Marshall toward one of his colleagues like he was shooing away an obnoxious fly. “Get his smelly ass in the car and down to booking. I don’t want to look at him.”

“You got it, Mike,” his fellow officer said, roughly grabbing Marshalls aching arm. “I’ll make sure the ride is nice and bumpy.”

“Good,” Greene said nodding in agreement as both officers filed out the door, their prisoner between them. He then turned to you with awe and wonder hidden somewhere behind the cop in him but he couldn’t keep it from showing in his eyes. “Helena,” he sighed. “As I live and breathe. Come here and give me a hug, girl.”

You threw your arms around him and thanked him profusely for what he had done.

“You don’t need to thank me, sweet heart. The pleasure was all mine. I had a bad feeling about him from the beginning. I’m just so sorry it took us so long.” He trailed off looking sad.

“it’s ok,” you assured him. “It’s over now… isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he said. “That confession is enough to put him away until your grandchildren have grandchildren.”

You both laughed and he walked you out the door. His cruiser sat waiting; it’s blue and red flashers dancing off the surrounding houses, painting pictures with light. Neighbors in robes and slippers were beginning to come out onto their porches and lawns to see what was going on. Helena would have greeted them all with open arms, had she had the strength but as it was, she was exhausted and just wanted to go home.

Home. That word floated like a melody in her head. She couldn’t wait to go back to the place that had become her home after her mother and sister died. Five years had passed since she’d laid her eyes on it and right now it felt like five centuries.

“Hop in the cruiser,” Mike said, “I’ll give you a ride to wherever you’re going.”

You looked up at Mike with the first real smile in years on your face and said “Home, Mike. I’m going home.”