Preppy: The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater, Part Two
Page 14

A pair of squawking black birds chose that moment to practically fall from the night sky, tangled up with one another. My eyes shot open to the scene playing out in front of us. The birds would separate briefly, only to fly another few feet before colliding together again, talons extended, beaks pecking away at the other. The occasional feather floated down onto the platform. The pair traded blow for blow as they rose and fell in the air like a carnival ride. “You think they’re fighting or fucking?” I asked, not realizing I’d spoken the words out loud until it was too late.
The mood between us turned more serious. Even the crickets must have realized the shift in energy because it was as if they’d sensed it and stopped chirping so they could listen in. “I think you and I both know you can be doing both at the same time.” His words took me right back to when Bear became a tool in our battle of ‘who could make each other feel worse’.
If there was a winner, it sure as shit hadn’t been me.
“Who knew that sex could be the ultimate weapon of mass destruction?” I asked, followed by a nervous laugh. I reached for the ends of the sleeves I wasn’t wearing so I could pull them down over my hands. I could feel his eyes on me, watching my every move. I shifted left and right, already feeling the indentations of the diamond plated metal platform taking shape on my butt cheeks. “So... more weather then?” I asked, needing to break the tension that was winding tighter and tighter in the space between us before it broke.
“More anything else,” Preppy replied, sounding both relieved and saddened.
“Learn anything new since you’ve been...” I hesitated, not knowing what word to use. “Back?”
“Well,” Preppy started. “King and his girl got a bunch of kids now. They rebuilt the garage because there was some sort of catastrophic event that they won’t tell me about. But then again they aren’t really telling me shit these days. Bear is hiding from me for some reason. My room is now bubblegum pink and is being occupied by a six year old who likes to come in my room and stare at me while I sleep.” He paused. “And Grace died.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, reaching my hand out to comfort him only to be met with the cold metal of the tower when he skidded back out of reach. I retracted my hand and pulled my knees into my chest.
“Forget the weather. Maybe tell me something funny. Tell me a joke, Doc,” his voice was fading as if he were growing tired. “I haven’t heard one of those in a long while.”
I sat for a second, breathing in the smell of cigarette smoke and his soap, thinking I was in some sort of dream that was about to end. All of my dreams about Preppy ended abruptly so if it was a dream, time wasn’t on my side. “Knock knock,” I started.
“Who’s there?”
I hesitated and almost changing my mind about what I was going to say next, but I needed to rescue the words dangling from my lips before I woke up from this weird dream and it was too late.
“Who’s there, Doc?” Preppy asked in a whisper.
I took a deep breath. “Me.”
“Me who?” He asked, playing along.
“Apparently...your wife.”
Silence.
I cleared my throat. “Those papers I left for you?” I started, “The documents you wanted to use to get guardianship of King’s daughter? Those were just meant for show for the lawyers and the judge, but very recently, like VERY recently, I learned that you filed the marriage license. So in the eyes of the county clerk’s office...well, in the eyes of the State of Florida as a whole...”
“We’re married,” Preppy finished, not sounding the least bit surprised.
“Yeah,” I replied. “We’re married.”
“Guess I just got confused,” he said, shifting his position although I couldn’t see exactly how I heard the scraping of metal against the platform which I assumed must have been a button on his pants. “All that shit with Max was over my head. Probably thought I was supposed to file them.” He explained in a manner that had me thinking there was more to what he was saying that he wasn’t letting on.
He loves you, you fucking idiot. He sent you that letter. He told you he loved you. He filed them because HE LOVES YOU.
“Why are you back, Doc? Here? In Logan’s Beach?”
“When I went home my dad sent me to rehab. The best in New York. My dad’s business had always done alright so I didn’t question him when I asked where the money was coming from to pay for it and he lied to me and told me his insurance was paying for it.” I took a deep breath and remembered the reassuring look on his face when he tried to convince me it would all be okay.
“But it wasn’t.”
“No, it wasn’t insurance. There was no insurance. It was all him. He took out all these loans. First to send me to rehab and then back to school,” I cringed because I hated the fact that my father sacrificed so much because of all my mistakes. “Long story short, his business is failing. Or, according to the past due notices and demands for payment I’ve found, it’s already failed.”
“And?”
“And he’s losing his house,” I replied. “Because of me.”
“That’s not your fault,” Preppy said, sounding a lot like Brandon.
“I know,” I agreed, although it was a lie. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m not going to try and do my damnedest to help him.”
“You’re selling the house?” Preppy guessed.
“Yeah, I’m selling the house. How did you know?”
“Either I could see where your story was going... or maybe it was that big ass for sale sign in Mirna’s front yard might have tipped me off,” he said. “I mean; the stalker might have seen it when he stalked by.”
“I see,” I said, my lips turning up into a smile.
“You know those letters I told you I wrote in case of my untimely death?” Preppy asked.
“Yeah?” I froze.
“Well I kept them up and I left instructions for Doe...I mean Ray, King’s girl, to send them out for me after...” I heard him shift and he stretched out his legs, his black boots were now visible in the light.
“Ray came to see me today. I like her,” I admitted.
“She did?” Preppy asked.
“Yeah, just wanted to say hi,” I said, “So what happened, with the letters?”