Two

It wasn’t a hard decision to keep quiet about Detective Thompson’s visit. Rick wouldn’t be by to pick up Caroline for another couple of days, and I saw no reason to call him and tell him any of this before then. Besides, I already knew how he would respond—with a five-minute tirade about how worthless our son had become. Rick had long ago determined that the reason for Kurt’s problems was that we had been too soft on him. I’d heard countless renditions of “We just made his life too easy,” “He never learned to take responsibility,” et cetera, et cetera. It didn’t matter how much I reminded him that Kurt had been an honor student and outstanding athlete, that he’d worked part-time to pay for his own used car and performed a couple hundred hours of community service. The answer always came back to soft parenting.

Out of curiosity, I dug through the recycling bin until I found the story of the weekend’s murder.

A local man was found beaten to death just outside De La Guerra Plaza early Sunday morning. Due to the severity of the beating, the victim was not easily recognizable, but has since been identified as Rudy Prince.

Mr. Prince was well-known among local authorities as a small-time drug dealer who had been arrested numerous times and convicted on three different occasions for aggravated assault. Police believe the murder weapon was likely Mr. Prince’s own Louisville Slugger. According to sources, he used to carve a tally mark in the handle of the bat each time he beat someone with it. The wooden bat is currently missing, and police are urging anyone with information of its whereabouts to please call the toll-free hotline.

My son owed this man money. The man who carried a baseball bat with tally marks. I shuddered when I thought of all the things my son was experiencing that were far too horrible for me to even comprehend. How had that happened?

Just then, Caroline came bounding in from school, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Hey, Mom, can we get a puppy? Holly Jeter’s Mom brought theirs to school today, and he was soooo cute. I really think we need a puppy.”

Life is so simple when you’re ten; a new puppy solves everything. I kissed her mop of sandy hair and smiled. “What do you think Boots would think of that?”

She looked toward the bundle of sleeping cat, in his usual spot by the heating vent in the corner, then walked over and buried her face in his fur. “You’d like it just fine, wouldn’t you, boy? You’d like to have a doggy brother, wouldn’t you?”

Boots lifted his head and looked toward Caroline with feline annoyance before stretching, flashing his claws in the process.

“See, Mom, he wouldn’t mind. Besides, since Dad’s not here anymore, we need some protection. You know, a guard dog sort of thing.”

“Yeah right. Now sit down and eat your snack.”

As she removed some ice cream from the freezer and took a seat at the kitchen table, I tossed the newspaper back into the bin and thought again how much Caroline looked like a younger, feminine version of Kurt. The two of them were so much alike in so many ways, it almost seemed as though they were twins. Twins with an eleven-year difference in age.

She put a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, and then another, with no conversation in between. This in and of itself was unusual. Then I noticed she was staring at the front door as if transfixed by the dark stain of the mahogany or polished shine of the brass handles.

I had cleaned off the dirt from earlier but began to wonder if I’d missed a spot. I tried to follow her gaze but couldn’t see anything unusual. “What are you looking at?”

“I’m just watching for Kurt.” The expression on her face was so matter-of-fact that it broke my heart.

“Why would you be doing that?”

“Last night I dreamed he came back home. Jenny says sometimes dreams tell the future, so I’m just watching.”

I was certain that the man she looked for had the same winning smile and easy laugh that had once been such a part of Kurt. She undoubtedly pictured his loose sandy curls swaying in time as he played the air guitar, or felt the tickles in her ribs from former wrestling matches. In her mind he was still healthy, happy, and wonderful—he just wasn’t around anymore. Somehow the innocence of childhood seemed to erase her bad memories of the last years before he disappeared completely. The timing of her dream couldn’t have been worse, what with the detective’s visit today. I was glad she hadn’t been home when he came by; at least she’d been spared that.

“Why don’t we go for a walk? Maybe we can stop by Holly’s house and you can show me her new puppy?”

“Yay! I knew you’d come around.” She jumped up and threw her arms around my neck. “Just wait until you see him. You’ll want a new puppy, too, I promise you will.”

As much as I dreaded the next few weeks of puppy-begging this impromptu outing was bound to cause, it was worth it to get Caroline’s hopes off Kurt’s arrival. At least she could visit Holly’s puppy, pet him, hug him. Something she would never be able to do with Kurt.

Later that night when I tucked her in, I gave her an extra long hug that brought tears to my eyes. She knelt to say her prayers, and began immediately with “Please show us the right puppy for our family. Help Mom to understand how much we need one.” When she got to her usual “God bless Kurt,” I didn’t have the typical mental response that Kurt was too far gone for even God’s help. Instead, I found myself pleading right along. Please, please, please.

I left her room and sank beside my own bed to pray. “Father, help him. Father, help him.” It was as articulate a prayer as I could offer when Kurt was involved.

Leaving Yesterday
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