CHAPTER 42: WHEN ALL ELSE FAILS, LIES DO TELL

MICHAEL:

After listening to my side of the story and scaring the shit out of me, Bubble asked the guard for paper and a pen. He told me that he wanted me to write everything I told him down; said it reads like an episode from the world’s dumbest criminals or some such shit.

“Why?” I ask him.

“Outside of the fact that should you choose to disobey, I’ll break your hands and arms?” He asks as he stares at me and I swallow hard, knowing I have no choice but to do what he’s demanding. “It’s entertaining and will fetch me a tidy sum for commissary in this joint. So start writing, and make it legible! It betta be word-for-word of what you told me, too, or you’ll be sorry.”

“How will you know?”

“I have an eidetic memory and a Master’s in English lit, so consider me your tutor. Goodness knows that drivel you wrote as co-Creator of the comic could have benefitted from my expertise.”

“Hey!”

“You still want to talk without permission?” He cracks his knuckles, and I fall silent. “Glad to know that you can follow instructions. Word to the wise, Turd, don’t make assumptions about the intelligence of the people who end up in here. After all, you thought you were quite clever, didn’t you? Now start writing!” He sits down and makes himself comfortable with a magazine while I do what he commands.

I seriously consider making it into how I wanted this entire situation to turn out. It would have been the love story to end all love stories! But as I sit here writing, even while my hand cramps, I realize that this feels more like I’m writing a confession of some sort. I brush off the feeling, because seriously, who would believe I would be dumb enough to do that? Besides, I really do believe that Brian is out there working to free me from jail, even if it’s behind Boy Wonder’s back. I chuckle to myself, thinking of the look on Justin’s face when Brian tells him what he’s done for me; which Brian will do once he realizes that all of Justin’s scheming and conniving can’t compare to all the lengths I’ve gone to prove how much I love him.

I’m thrown out of my reverie, quite literally, by Bubble. As I pick myself up off the floor, I ask, “What is your fucking problem this time?”

He brushes his hands against his sweats as if he touched something disgusting before answering me. “You were chuckling, and I’m sure it was because of some wrong shit you were thinking.”

“What’s it to you?!”

“Other than the fact that it was annoying as hell, it also shows that the prison system is obviously failing in its duty to rehabilitate, therefore the job falls to me. So since you are so childish, I figured I would treat you as I would my former students.”

“What are you talking about this time?” I ask, officially losing what little patience I had.

SMACK! I can’t stop the whine which escapes me as I hold the side of my face where he placed this latest assault.

“Once again, you need to moderate your tone when speaking to me, Turd. Secondly, I’m talking about using the chalkboard technique to correct wayward behavior. So while I look over the written ramblings of your idiotic mind, you will sit back in that chair and write ‘I will not steal’ one hundred times. Then you will use another piece of paper to write, ‘I will not covet another man’s husband.’”

“But…”

He goes on as if I wasn’t about to protest this injustice. “Then you will take a third piece of paper and write ‘I will not talk back!’ I want each and every fucking line numbered, and if it’s all not done in the next ninety minutes, there will be an asswhipping waiting for you. Now get fucking moving!”

We were interrupted by the corrections officer on duty. “Chow time, Bubble. You and Novotny get to the mess hall.”

He moves to the opening of the cell, and I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s cut short when he turns back to me. “Turd, you have ten minutes to eat, and then you are to come back here to complete your assignments. I want them done by the time the dinner hour is over.”

I roll my eyes, smugly defying him before turning pleading eyes to the officer. “Sir, I want my cell changed. I am being abused and am in fear of my life. Please, can you help me?” I say with tears running down my cheeks.

Instead of the response I was hoping for, all I receive is laughter. “Bullshit, Novotny. We’ve already been warned of your flair for the dramatic. You’re just being taught how to become a model prisoner by one of the best is all. I’m sure you’ll survive,” the corrections officer says before turning and starting down the hallway to the next cell.

“Dry it up, Turd. Nobody’s buying your act,” Bubble tells me.

Fucking hell! Brian has got to get me out of here!

JENNIFER:

I walk into this new place called Annette’s Diner, hearing the pealing laugh of my daughter. It’s a sound that I’ve heard rarely in recent years. I don’t exactly know when it happened, but Molly became so serious after Justin left home. It was like the child had grown up over night with the discovery of the harsh truths of a reality I’d tried to shield her from. I remember the look on her face the day of her last birthday party so long ago. Justin had arrived to celebrate with her, but it turned into a discussion between him and me about his wants versus the needs of the Taylor family as a whole. I will not deny that after he left, I’d felt ashamed and disgusted with myself for having to turn him away because I knew Craig would never accept Justin back unless he towed the line. But what I had not counted on is that Molly would feel the same way… about me.

She’d overheard the exchange between Justin and me, but because we had company, she covered it well. I guess all of the WASP training I had been teaching her since birth allowed her to just simply treat me with cold disdain instead her throwing the tantrum I knew she wanted to throw. When everyone else had left, including Craig, to presumably work, Molly ripped into me about my treatment of Justin. And then she burst out in tears, asking me if she grew up wanting to do something out of my well-ordered existence would I disown her too.

The thing that struck me right then is that she didn’t ask what her father’s response would be; she simply didn’t care. Molly was looking for me to  reassure her as the child I gave birth to, and it was then that I realized just what Craig had done to both me and my son. He made me make a choice between his happiness and that of the child I loved with my whole heart. What’s funny is that I never realized just how jealous the man was of the children he helped me create. So when he came home that night, and Molly went to bed, Craig and I had one more fight, culminating in the divorce.

I think what surprised me the most is that I wasn’t sad about the end of my marriage to Craig Taylor. I was upset that, as an intelligent woman, I stayed married to him for far too long. I let the fact that he kept a roof over our heads and food on the table blind me to all of the man’s faults- faults that I ultimately couldn’t deal with. Of course, he put into Justin’s head that he was the cause of it all, but that’s not true. Justin was the catalyst to get me to remember just who Jennifer Alwin was before she became the puppet called Jennifer Taylor. It took a strength of character and will to reconcile who I was pre-marriage to who I was post-marriage, and to become the woman I am now. Realizing that I was raising a young woman named Molly Taylor helped me to make the hard decision to let go of my comfortable existence and begin to really live. I would never want my daughter to compromise herself, or her beliefs, for a false sense of security, so why was I so willing to do it?

Walking over to the table where the three youngsters were sitting with an older lady, I stopped again to take in the scene. Although they were all laughing it wasn’t hard to see that lack of sparkle in the younger boy’s eyes. I knew immediately who it was, even before Molly called his name. My heart ached for him. It was the same lost look I’d seen one too many times in my own son’s eyes after the bashing. And in that moment I had to resist the urge to pick him up and cuddle him, whispering that everything would be alright for him. Because in all honesty, we don’t know that. Both his mother AND his father were going to jail without a doubt, so there was a good possibility that Peter would end up in foster care unless there was someone to take him. I doubt very seriously if Joan Kinney would be that someone.

“Mom!” Molly is the first one to notice me, and rushes over to embrace me.

“Hello, Sweetheart,” I say, looking her over and chuckling. “Well you don’t look any worse for your Bonnie and Clyde times two adventures. Why don’t you introduce me to your partners in petty crime.”

“Seriously mother, what could I possibly have stolen from him? I mean considering the fact that he’s been stealing from Justin and I for only God knows how long…”

“Molly, what did you just…”

“You heard me right, Mom. Justin’s wasn’t the only trust fund he’s been siphoning- his words, not mine.”

I can barely control the shock and anger I feel at this moment. It was bad enough to do it to Justin, but Molly… Craig’s got a lot of explaining to do, and that is an understatement. If I’m not careful, I might just end up in a cell right next to him. Better yet, lock me into the cell with his trifling ass, is how I’m feeling right now. But I have to swallow these feelings right now, as there are three youngsters who need a mother, not a future inmate.

“Hello, boys and Miss…” I begin.

“Annette Humphries, Mrs. Taylor,” she tells me, extending her hand which I happily accept. “Molly has been filling us in on the drama as she knows it right now.”

“I’m not surprised, and please call me Jennifer.” I smile. “So where are we in the story, Molly?”

She has the good grace to flush, being caught out in her gossiping. “Mom…”

“No, you’re not in trouble, Darling. I just need to know where I should take up the tale.”

“Well, we were just telling Ms. Annette of Brian and Justin’s history with Dumb and Dumber back at the house.”

“Molly! It’s not nice to call people names, no matter how correct you are.” Annette snickers, and I know that I have found a kindred spirit in this woman. “Where do the boys fit into this tale?”

“I think I can answer the bulk of your questions, Jennifer.” She sighs before offering me a seat at the table. “My best friend met and married Claire Kinney out of obligation and in truth, a bit of trickery on the part of both his and Claire’s mother. John had plans to leave Pittsburgh the moment his cap and gown was off. We were going to attend college at UCLA since we both got in. But, well, John’s parents were a lot like Brian’s were to him, in believing it was a son’s duty to carry out the legacy of working in the steel mills, foregoing any alternative hopes and dreams you may have had for yourself.”

“Sounds a lot like Craig in reference to his plans for Justin as well.”

She nods. “So you can imagine how the boys in the neighborhood were held back…”

“Uncle Brian wasn’t,” John states.

“That’s because Brian wasn’t able to be tricked the way my best friend was…” And it’s what she doesn’t say which offers me a clear view of just how John Townsend, Senior was able to be convinced to stay.

“So he married Claire.”

“Yes, he did. Regardless of how she and her mother tried to paint him in court, John, Senior is an honorable man. But he couldn’t stay with Claire Kinney knowing all he knew of her. From what Molly and the boys have told me thus far, his knowledge didn’t even scratch the surface of her perfidy.”

“Did you ever get to Los Angeles?”

“Yes, I did. John is there now, completing his degree at long last.”

“So you’ve called him?”

“I did, but Brian beat me to it. I just told him that I had both boys, not the other stuff.”

“I guess that brings up the question of what happens next.” I turn to the two young men at the table. The older is consoling the younger, while Molly is holding his hand. The closeness of the trio is not lost on me nor Annette. “John…”

“I won’t leave Peter,” he says quietly, but firmly.

“John…” Peter begins, but goes quiet at John’s stern look.

“I won’t leave you, little brother. Us and Molly… we’re all we’ve really ever had. But I need… I need to speak to Uncle Brian.”

“Brian? Why?” I ask.

“Because the whole accusing him of something he didn’t do wasn’t my idea. It was my mom and dork boy’s.” I can tell he’s embarrassed to even have to discuss this, but it’s necessary that I have it all from John’s perspective. I have to know what I need to do.

“Who is ‘dork boy’?”

“It’s Michael, Mom,” Molly tells me.

“And just what did Michael do?” I ask. At their reluctance to tell me, I level with them. “Look, children. Here’s the real of it, and I’m going to talk to you all as if you’re adults because I believe that you are all old enough to receive what I have to say as such.” I look at each of them in their eyes to make sure I have their full attention. I’m also gratified to see that Annette is also paying rapt attention, because she is going to have to relate all of this to John, Senior. “The bottom line is that Michael Novotny is in rotting away in jail, awaiting trial, but the D.A. handling the case will probably still need to ask you some questions. Unfortunately, from what you’ve all told me so far, it will also mean that you all will have to put your parents’ involvement out there as evidence. It’s not a nice position for any of you to be in, but necessary if you want to do the right thing, which I believe you do.”

“But doing it puts Peter in even more trouble,” John stammers.

“Maybe, but then again maybe not. I can’t promise you anything, nor will I lie to you. This is a difficult situation for all involved, moreso you Peter than any of us. But that doesn’t mean that you are in it by yourself. Okay?”

I can tell that he wants to believe me, but the truth is that because he’s been let down by all of the adults around him, it’s difficult. John is the one who speaks on their behalf. “We’ll try to trust you, but you have to promise to be honest and tell us what’s going on every step of the way. I don’t think Peter and I can handle any more secrets.”

“I’ll tell you what… I’m willing to do as you ask…”

“Even if you think it will hurt, Ms. Jennifer,” Peter tells me. And the desperation in his eyes once again, breaks my heart. “It’s what we need. I can’t take the ‘not knowing’ anymore. It’s like all these decisions are being made for us, about US, and we just have to go along with everything because it’s what’s expected. I don’t want to live like that.”

I smile at him. He definitely reminds me of Justin right now. It was an argument my son and I have had many times, even as he became an adult. “I can do it, guys. Full disclosure, no matter how painful. But you have to promise me the same thing. I may not be your mom…”

“And thank God for that!” Annette says, causing the three youngsters to laugh. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I chuckle before becoming serious again. “I want you both to know that I’m on your side. I will honor my word to the both of you, I promise.”

They both look to Molly for confirmation that I’m telling the truth. She shrugs and tells them, “She and I have had our problems, but breaking promises wasn’t one of them.”

I almost laugh aloud at how old she sounds. It’s almost as if she’s even older than dirt with the world-weary sigh she just released. I shake my head at my daughter’s continued antics, and then turn back to the guys. “So, now that I have been given Molly’s seal of approval, are you both willing to give me yours?”

Peter smiles at me for the first time, and for some strange reason this time it reminds me of one of Brian’s rare smiles. “Yes, Ms. Jennifer. You have it.”

And not a moment too soon, since the police cars just flew by the eatery. Annette looks at me, smirking. Before I can even pose the question forming in my mind, she smiles. “I’ll lock up and we can go.”

“I…”

“You want to see them get what’s coming to them just as bad as I do.”

I snicker. Yeah, she’s right. I do!

CARL

I arrive on the scene just in time to hear the argument that caused the neighbors to call the police. It doesn’t matter that I was already on my way here to this house anyway to arrest these two, but hearing the venomous words pouring from each of their mouths makes me wonder how they could ever have been lovers at all. I guess avarice breeds strange bedfellows just as well as any other thing.

“This is all your fucking punk sons’ fault! Molly would never do something like this!”

“And yet it’s your cell phone that is missing from your car! And talk bad about John and Peter once more and I swear Craig, I’ll punch you!”

“Oh, so now we want to play the ‘caring’ mother? Get real bitch! Your endless and overused hole was just the tool you used to extort money from unsuspecting men!”

“Mad because you’re one of them?”

“Look…”

The rest of his words are cut off as Office Duggin tells them to shut up. While he questions them, I decide to turn on the camera all police cruisers are now mandated to have. Originally, a lot of the officers were disgruntled about being policed, but it has actually saved a lot of our jobs. Consequently, it has also helped IA to get the bad cops out of our department, many of whom were in Stockwell’s camp. Considering his indictment and the fact that some of them could have been wrongly accused, they quickly shut the hell up.

“We received a call about you both disturbing the peace. What’s going on?”

“Her brats broke my car window!” Craig yells, looking directly at Claire.

“While his brat stole his phone out of the glove compartment,” she sneers back. I have to admit that Brian does it better. I mean, the way her lip curls, it just reminds me that there is a Rocky marathon coming on tonight that I hope I remembered to tape.

“Well, I guess the question is where are the children now?” That shut them up for a moment and I find myself snickering. It’s quite obvious that they don’t know. Duggin folds his arms. “Okay, so a much simpler question would be why weren’t you two watching them?”

“They are pre-teens and old enough to play outside unsupervised,” Craig answers nonchalantly.

“Be that as it may, they are still children and require at least a modicum of supervision. At the very least, you both should know where they are. Do you know how many kids end up abducted every year because the parents are less than vigilant?”

“Officer…”

“So I will ask again, where were the two of you and where are your children?”

“Oh this is ridiculous!” Craig yells. “Instead of standing here interrogating us, you should be out there looking for our kids!”

“It would help if we had all the facts so that we have some direction as to where they may have gone. So again, where were you two?”

“That’s not…”

“Actually it is my business since it’s your pre-teens that are running the streets and possibly in danger right now.”

I’m sitting here laughing at the way they are still trying to avoid the questions. I’ve seen lobsters that look less red after they’ve been boiled. Finally Duggin has worn down Claire and she yells, “Oh alright! We were in the house arguing!”

“What about?”

“How the fuck is that any of your business?! Married people fight all the time!” I actually do guffaw inside my car at the look of disgust and horror etched on Craig’s face at Claire’s pronouncement.

“That’s true, but you’re not married to Craig Taylor, so try something else.” Duggin snarks.

“How do you know I’m not? It’s a new relationship!”

“No man looks at his new wife like that unless he’s straight and just discovered he’s accidentally married to a transgender female.” Oh my God, where the hell did he come up with that?! “But now that I look at you…”

“I want your badge number,” Claire growls. “You are insulting and…”

“Wouldn’t have been so if you hadn’t tried to insult my intelligence by lying. So again, I will ask what the argument was about.”

“Just some money woes is all,” Craig hastily says.

“Thank you for at least being vaguely honest, Mr. Taylor. Now I have to ask you if you know of any reason the kids would just take off without a word to either of you?”

Claire sighs, even as Craig fidgets. “No.”

“Well according to two of the neighbors who called us, you were both having a rather loud argument about the parentage of Peter Townsend. Is that correct?”

“Yes it is,” Claire says quietly.

“And is it possible that he might have overheard it?”

“I don’t know. I guess. The windows were open,” Craig says. “Now that you have your answers, go find our kids!”

And that’s my cue. “Officer Duggin, the children are with Jennifer Taylor,” I say.

“What?! How do you know that?!” Craig yells at me. “And who the hell are you?!”

Instead of answering the irate man, I do what I’ve come to do. “Claire Kinney and Craig Taylor, you are both under arrest for extortion, fraud, conspiracy, accessories to blackmail, accessories to embezzlement, grand larceny, child neglect, and endangerment of Molly Taylor, John Townsend, Jr., and Peter Townsend, and also in Craig Taylor’s case the neglect and abuse of Justin Taylor…” I quickly read them their Miranda rights as both of them continue to protest.

Claire begins crying about how sick with worry she is for her children, not even realizing that they are standing across the street, watching this entire episode. When I point them out to both Craig and Claire, the tears not only dry up, but the ear-piercing screeching begins, as well as growls of revenge and discontent. It is definitely going to be a fun afternoon.