An Important Notice to Readers...
Although this fiction blog is illustrated with photos of dolls, and dollhouse miniatures, the language and content of the storyline is intended for an adult audience. Please be advised.
|Maureen hears something upstairs|
Fr. Kevin looked at him oddly. "I suppose they're strong. They are pain killers after all. But I'm not sure there's a "happy" in any of this, Ted. Frankly, it's been the kind of day I'd like to completely forget."
Beckett dragged over the same chair that Roxanne had been sitting in a few hours before, and like she, plopped himself a foot away from his face. Kevin sighed, as it appeared today was the day for interrogations of every kind. The Sheriff was right. The Percocet had taken the edge off the pain, and his mind did seem a bit fluffy around the edges. He knew he should be careful in what he said to his brother-in-law, but the slight buzz he was feeling was far from unpleasant.
"I would imagine so, O'Kenney. Quite a frightening experience, being held hostage like that. Especially with the women involved...your sister and Roxanne sitting there in harms way. I bet you were very, very upset."
He knew the Sheriff was baiting him, obviously seeking some kind of secret agenda, waiting for him to screw something up. What it was exactly was unclear, so he decided to let him keep talking until the man got around to explaining his purpose. "Yes...I suppose I was nervous. It was, after all, an armed hold up. I just wanted for everybody to get through the ordeal safely. There was no reason for anyone to get hurt."
Beckett looked at him with cold eyes the color of a frozen lake, and not for the first time, did the priest wonder what it was his sister saw in this man. And not just Maureen, but women in general. Sure he was handsome in a magazine ad sort of way. But to Kevin's eye, his face seemed like a mask, artificial and phony, with no life pulsing beneath it. Even at the death of his child, the man had seemed arrow straight, not allowing anything to pierce the hard exterior. He couldn't understand the pull this man had over his sister, who herself was so open, and loving, and full of life.
"Did you hear what I said, Father?" About the gunman?"
Kevin rubbed a hand over his forehead. "I'm sorry, Ted. I'm really tired. Can you repeat the question."
The Sheriff gave a huff of disgust. "I said...you gave the police artist a pretty detailed description of the perp. That's very unusual, you know. In situations of high anxiety. I'm curious how you remembered all that."
The little voice in his head offered warning. So that's where he's going with all this. He's suspicious about the drawing. About my knowledge of the gunman. I need to tread lightly here. He wouldn't believe the truth anyway. "Can't really say for sure. I just know I had the opportunity to speak one on one with him. His face...well, it was just sort imprinted on my brain. Stayed with me I guess."
Beckett leaned back and folded his arms on the back of the chair, in the same manner Roxanne had done, and Fr. Kevin wondered if there was something common among people who went into law enforcement. His brother-in-law must had seen that same something in Roxie. The thought of them both crawling all over him, prying into his head, made him uneasy, though in Roxie's case it was a bit more complicated.
"Odd, O'Kenney. Very odd. Most people have the direct opposite reaction to a stressful moment. Try to wash the whole memory from their heads. But you, in fact, can give the artist enough information to create a photo like drawing. Highly unusual. In my professional opinion, that is."
Beckett's interrogation was beginning to annoy him. He hadn't invited either of them over, and now, he was being subjected to the man's intense scrutiny. Maybe it was the Percocet bolstering his confidence, but he considered throwing his brother-in-law out of his house. Sending him merrily on his way without a second thought to any one's feelings. But he could hear Maureen banging about in the kitchen, and for her sake, he knew he would do no such thing.
"I'm not sure what to say about that, Sheriff. I thought I was being helpful. You do want to catch the men responsible, don't you?
"I most certainly do, O'Kenney. The question is...do you want them caught?"
The question caught him completely off guard, and he struggled for the right words to answer. Did he want the young man with Fr. Murphy's face apprehended? And if he didn't, just why was that?
Before he could even let his mind wrap around those concerns, Maureen interrupted the conversation.
"Dinner is ready guys. I just have the toss the salad, and we can eat." A look around the room gave evidence of the intense conversation that proceeded her. She frowned, and spoke directly to her husband. "Ted...you promised. No discussion about the clinic during dinner. We're here to help Kevin out. To make him feel better. After all, if it weren't for my brave, big brother somebody might've gotten hurt. Kevin's the reason we all walked safely out of that place."
Beckett rose from the chair, the smile on his face insincere. "You're right, darling. I should be offering the good Reverend my undying gratitude. Thank you, Father O'Kenney...for being the hero of the day."
There was an awkward silence, broken again by his sister. "Okay, everyone, lets eat while its warm." As she moved toward the kitchen, she paused next to the stairway leading to the upper floors, cocking her head. "Do you hear that?"
Beckett stopped next to her, and listened as well. "I don't hear anything."
"No seriously...can't you hear that? That low buzzing sound coming from somewhere upstairs?"
There was food on the table. He knew it because he could feel it in his mouth, see it on his plate. But taste it? No. All he could think of...all he could concentrate on...was the fact that his little sister could hear the watch. Normal people couldn't. It was obvious Beckett didn't hear the low droning sound, even when he went upstairs to investigate. Oh my God...Oh my God...please not Maureen, Lord. Not her too.
He hated lying to Maureen, but there was no way he could admit he heard it too. Knew what it was. Knew what it meant. And so he acted as if she were hearing things that weren't there, which of course would mean her husband would insist on a visit to a specialist. It couldn't be helped. There was no way in both heaven or hell he would expose Mo to the powers of the damned watch. The thought of Maureen, his baby sister, held at the mercy of time travel, made him sick to the core. She had suffered enough. He would get rid of the horrid thing against the advice of the other worldly. And if it meant he'd sacrifice his own well being, then so be it.
He was wrong. About it all. Stubborn and close minded when it came to anything that trampled on his tightly held beliefs. Roxanne sat on the end of the bed in the cozy, rented room, and cursed Fate for working it all out the way It had. She refused to give it a name. Not God. Not Father. Not Allah. That would give it a personality. A character. The thing that had directed her life didn't have character. Didn't care about her personal happiness. She knew Kevin would have all kinds of thoughts on that. Would counsel her until he was blue in the face that the Will of God was not in accordance to her plan. Her wants.
Well, duh. That was obvious. Her plans would never have included a father arrested for racketeering. A mother who coped with the shame by living in a bottle. Her will wouldn't have included a series of moves, each to a neighborhood more desolate than the one before. It wouldn't mean a daily struggle in which things never worked out. And most of all, her way wouldn't have kept her from the one person she wanted the most. Fate was selfish and cruel, and had kept her desired prize all for Himself. And for that, she had never forgiven Him.
Not that she'd tell Kevin any of this. He'd be mortified if she told him how she really felt. Probably insist they never see each other again. And that would kill her for sure. Their time travel experience together reinforced what she had always known. The two of them had forged a special bond the moment they had meet as kids. Right there on the steps of his parent's home in Boston. And despite being set on two different paths, it was a connection that could not be broken. The watch that hummed away in the attic rectory of Holy Family, knew it as well.
|Roxanne contemplates the issues at hand|
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