Burn, Baby, Burn by Michael Seale (Chapter 21)

 Chapter 21

Jesus loves me

A chickadee and a blue jay argued outside of Kimber’s bedroom window. The sun shone low in the sky, casting hues of pink over a blue, grey sky. A few small clouds flitted by. The dew sparkled on the green grass. 

I opened my eyes to Kimber sleeping next to me, her hand on my chest. Her lips partially open and her snores nearly silent. 

“Good morning,” she said, sliding her hand off my chest.

“Good morning, sunshine.” I replied smiling. “When did this happen?”

She stretched her t-shirt, exposing her stomach. We were both fully clothed, so I assumed that we had only slept, slept together.

“I don’t know. I woke up, and you were standing over me.”

“I really don’t remember that.” I said as I sat up, trying to cover up my morning hard on.

“Did we?” I asked. 

“No,” she said. “You actually behaved.” 

She made coffee; I cleaned up the blankets in the living room. 

“Somewhat like a married couple,” I called to her.

She laughed. “You wish.”

Kimber sat across the table, drinking her coffee. She left me alone with my thoughts. 

I caught her staring. 

“Yes, dear?” I asked.

“Stop with the whole married act.” She replied. “What’s going on, Mike? You keep hallucinating, you are “sleep walking”, and you freaked out at the concert and left me there. It’s really scary.” 

“The doctor said, that it might stress related. But I don’t feel stressed.”

“I think it’s something more, I think that you have some connection to this killer, and that you keep hallucinating about.” 

“You said that. Last night was different. I couldn’t see anything. It was pitch black. I could hear voices, which sounded like me. Like I was arguing with myself.”

“That’s weird.”

“I know. And then I thought about my dad and all the things that happened as a kid.”

“What happened when you were a kid?” she asked.

My head was still a mess from yesterday, even though I was trying to play it down. I hadn’t thought about my dad in so long. 

“He was a drunken asshole. I don’t give two shits about him. It’s just seems like it might have a connection.”

“What do you mean?”

“My dad was military, through and through. He didn’t do love or happy family or shit like that. Couldn’t cope with life. Needed the military and church to tell him what to think, what to do, how to be. He would preach about the love of Jesus and then beat me senseless.”

“Mike, oh my god.” 

“He was so hypocritical, even as a small kid, I realized it. That turned off of the whole idea of church, but it was also the only place that I knew I was safe from his rampages. I used to ask, how could Jesus love me, when he sent this man as my father? I always wondered if there was a God, it there was then he was the biggest asshole around.” 

I got up to make myself another cup of coffee. I don’t like to think about him, let alone talk about him, but I suppose now I should. 

I sat back at the table and was silent for a moment. Kimber looked at me with her gorgeous brown eyes. She reached out to me. Her hands were soft, not like my calloused workman’s hands. 

“My dad used to beat on me, a lot. He ended up killing my mom and then himself when I was a teenager.” I said blankly, looking at the table.

“What?”

“Yeah, I was the one who found them both. My dad was a drunk, as usual, but this time was different. I came home from school and he had beaten her to death.”

Tears streamed down Kimber’s cheeks. She was curled up into herself. 

“When I found them, he was burning her body. He had thrown her on a heap of trash and wood, which he had cut the day before from the trees in our backyard. I guessed I passed out because when I came to he had slit his wrist and bled out.”

“Mike, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago.” 

“He used to beat on me but he at least he left my brother and sister alone. Would burn me with cigarettes and matches sometimes. Also spit on me and tell me I was worthless, all the while quoting scripture. As if that made it ok.”

“Oh my god,” tears welled up in her eyes again. She squeezed my hand tighter.

“He was a deacon in the church that we went too. I’m sure nobody there would have believed that he could do such a thing. He was the right hand to the pastor.” Shaking my head, I couldn’t make eye contact with her. I hated telling this, I knew she would pity me. I don’t want pity; never needed it, I thought.

“He would drink himself into a stupor and then flip out, because he said that alcohol was a sin. He would then take his anger out on me.”

“That makes no sense.”

“I know. But it did to him. My mom let it happen. She did nothing to stop it. I think she was too afraid or to stupid or just didn’t care, I don’t know.”

“He really killed her?” 

“Yeah, the police said he beat her with a blunt object.”

“Think.”

“Yeah, I came home, the phone was ringing, and I’ve never forgotten that. I was about to pick it up, but then I looked out the kitchen window. It overlooked the backyard. My dad stood there with his back to the house. His lawn chair that he sat in lay on the ground. His beer was in his hand. Thick black smoke was in front of him.”

She stared at me opened mouthed, disbelieving.

“I let the phone ring. I don’t know why, but I felt like something was wrong. I walked out to him. That’s when I saw her. He had built a fire and laid her body on top. I screamed.”

Her hand went to her mouth. A single tear streamed down her cheek. She has such a capacity for empathy. “I’m so sorry.”

“That’s when he turned. His face was red, menacing. He just smiled at me. Finally, he said she was dirty, that he had defiled her with his sins, but now she was cleansed again.”

“Then what happened?”

“I don’t know I passed out. When I woke up, the police were there. He was dead. He had slit his wrists.”

“Holy shit. That’s crazy.”

“Yeah, we lived with my grandparents until we all moved out. They put us in therapy and everything. I’m ok with it now, but for the longest time I had nightmares.” 

The entire time I told her, I only looked up once. I saw her tear. I saw the pity on her face. 

“Look, it was a long time ago. It was hard. It still is, but it’s over. I’m over it.”

Her expression changed, she could hear the tone in my voice changed. She wiped her cheek.

“Mike, I just want to help you. I’m your friend.” She squeezed my hand again. 

“I know, I’m sorry, it’s just any time someone finds out that you are that guy… it’s all about pity. I hate that, I don’t need that. My grandparents were great. They are my family.”

“What about your brother and sister?”

I shook my head, explained that they feared me. I wasn’t the best brother growing up. Even now we cannot hold a genuine conversation. I’ve always hoped one day that will change.

Kimber sat quietly for a long moment. 

“Don’t you see it? The similarities.”

“I don’t get what you mean.”

“Mike, you said the phone was ringing when he killed her, right?”

I nodded my head, my eyes wide. Why hadn’t I thought of this before?

“Just like what you have been hearing. Then the burnt bodies. My god, he burnt your mom’s body. What if these are just suppressed memories of the nightmares you had after it all happened?”

“I guess,” I mumbled.

I really hadn’t thought about, probably because I never think about my parents. I’ve blocked them out. My grandparents raised me. That’s what I tell everyone. I never tell them that my dad was bat shit crazy and murdered my mom and that I found him laughing maniacally as he watched her burn. Or that he said that he defiled, and he had cleansed her. No, I left those parts of my life out. 

Do you know how people treat you when they find that out? With pity, I hate it. Besides, other than my brother and sister being afraid of me or telling everyone that I was a bully, I had a great life afterwards. No more burns, no more punches, no more being told I was worthless. 

My granddad, well actually he was my step-granddad was the best man I have ever known. He had a way about him that was easy. He took the time for us, especially for me. They lived in a good size house out in the middle of nowhere Arkansas. With his own pond, forest, and rolling hills, a kid’s paradise. He taught me to drive, to fish, to hunt, to skin a deer. He was the greatest dad; a kid could ask for.

“Don’t you think I’m right?” she said excitedly. 

“Maybe, it’s just so much has happened. It’s all so weird.”

We sat in silence for a moment; she was still holding my hand. I thought I could fall in love with her right here and now. It’s strange how the brain and heart work. I know I should try to concentrate on figuring out what’s going but on the same time my heart is calling for her. She kissed the top of my head; her breast brushed my cheek. 

“Look, get ready for work. You should go home and get yourself ready, Saturday nights are always a bitch.”

I did as I was told, although I wanted nothing more to stay in her arms.