Just My Luck Ch. 15
It was well after midnight…just a few hours since Dr. and Mrs. Holder had made a hurried arrival and quiet departure from the Scott homestead. The silence in the house was periodically interrupted by movement from one of the five figures lying on mattresses laid out in the living room but, for the most part, the group remained quiet.
Chris stared up at the dark, high ceiling, too many confused and frightened emotions causing his sleeplessness. The latest event…JC’s flashback had been a setback for the group and another dip into unfamiliar territory for the entire group. None of them had any experience with the matters of violence, but with the events of the last week, was sending them all through a crash course in violence and its aftermath 101.
Chris emitted a small, amused snort at his small yet, warped sense of humor before losing himself in his thoughts of the latest development.
He had no idea how they were going to handle JC regaining his memory of their attack when he had no ability to help him since he himself had been unconscious throughout almost its entirety. He could recall JC being grabbed…but…other than that and the swift kick to his midsection and his hitting the side of the house, he was at a total loss as to what else had happened. Only JC could supply that information and…if that realization wasn’t frightening enough, the fact that there was no control over when or how the memories would surface was pushing the entire group into unchartered territory…all on their own.
For several more minutes, Chris lay lost in his thoughts until the silence in the room became oppressive…so much so that there was an overwhelming desire to get up and move around was too strong to deny. He slowly turned on his mattress, wincing at the sore pull of stiff muscles. Having the mattresses on the floor didn’t make for the most comfortable sleeping, but it was the only way that they could all be together…and that was what they needed most, for the moment.
Tiredly, he ran a hand over his eyes, then scratched his head, ruffling his already unruly hair, before lowering his hand to gaze at the others…his eyes long ago adjusted to the darkness. JC and Joey lay closest…just an arm’s length away on a double mattress…their breaths quiet and even…any other movement almost non-existent. The sedative that Dr. Holder had administered were strong enough that the he had guaranteed that JC would more than likely sleep through the night and possibly well into the next morning. Joey, according to Dr. Holder, would also sleep very well…the strong pain medications for his strained right wrist would guarantee that. Chris had heard small, restless movements from Joey’s side of the mattress, which was closest, and noticed that the blanket that covered him had fallen away. With careful, slow movements, Chris leaned up on elbow then reached out and gently pulled the blanket back up over the younger man’s body…all without Joey apparently even feeling it.
With a quiet sigh, Chris then rested his head on his fist, gazing intently at the pair, the memories of JC’s panicked screams and Joey’s cries for help tumbling about in his mind. The confusion on the porch…the sight of JC’s limp body hanging awkwardly in Joey’s trembling grasp filled his mind and, briefly, he replayed the scene in his mind.
He had been in the kitchen in search of the perfect food to play a joke on Justin with.
“Coo-whip…cool-whip…where are you when I need you the most?” he had said, searching through the contents of the refrigerator but coming up empty handed.
“Well…I guess I can’t expect Jan to keep these kind of opportunities in mind when she shops…can I?” he said, closing the door before leaning his back against it.
“Okay…no cool-whip…what else…what else. Yeah…peanut butter and jelly!” he then spit out in a hushed whisper, turning back around to reopen the refrigerator to grab the jelly. He then crossed the room and opened the pantry. With a quick search, he found creamy and crunchy peanut butter.
“Perfect! This is going to be so good! I wonder…could we get a raccoon or something to lick it off?
“No, Chris,” a deep, hoarse voice replied from the doorway, startling the older man so badly that he nearly lost his armload of items. Hastily, he struggled to keep from losing his load.
“Lance…geez…don’t do that,” Chris breathed out, watching warily as the blond came toward him. “Wait…no…umm…I was just…fixing a snack. Yeah…a snack,” Chris blabbered out, reluctantly relinquishing two of the jars from his grasp. “Want me to fix you one too?”
“No…I came back down here to supervise,” Lance replied dryly, wincing at the scratchiness in his throat. “Wait…” he said, holding up one hand before walking over to the sink. He flipped on the tap, bent over and cupped his hand under the flow of cool well water, drinking deeply to satisfy the discomfort in his throat. Seconds later, he stood up, turned off the water and wiped his face off with the bottom of his t-shirt.
While Lance had been at the sink, Chris had searched for a few more items…marshmallows, a knife, spoon and roll of paper towels, the latter item in an effort to prevent a mess, although in the back of his mind he knew that would be a lost cause.
“So…what’s the plan, Chris?” Lance asked, watching the older man bounce about the room.
“Well…I figure we can put peanut butter on his feet…then add the marshmallows. The jelly can go in his hair with more marshmallows,” Chris said with a wicked grin, his excitement beginning to rub off on Lance, who was also slowly showing signs of a wicked grin growing on his face.
“Wait a minute. I think I remember seeing a bottle of chocolate sauce in the…”
Lance never finished his statement because it was at that very moment when JC’s unearthly screams could be heard.
For just an instant, the pair stood staring at one another in confusion.
“JC?” Lance questioned, his voice small…his face surprised.
“I don’t know…” Chris replied in just as small a voice.
Then Joey’s frantic yells for help caused them to snap out of their frozen state. From that moment on, his recall of the situation could only be described as confused and frightening flashes.
Racing out of the kitchen with Lance hot on his heels…
Running through the living room…
Seeing Justin nearly fall to the floor in his haste to get up from the couch…hearing Lance asking the younger man if he was okay…
Pushing past Justin to get to the door…
All the while, JC’s screams fueling his energy…Joey’s frantic calls causing his feet to move even more swiftly…
The sight on the other side of the door nearly causing his knees to give out…
The dim porch light only adding to the horror of the situation…
JC’s shadowed face contorted in fear…panic…his eyes suddenly rolling back in his head…his back arching sharply…his head flung back against Joey’s left shoulder…his arms flailing only to fall limply to his sides as his body falls forward…Joey’s grip the only thing preventing JC from hitting the porch…
Joey’s tearful face bent over JC’s sudden limp body…his breaths hitched with exertion…his voice small and uncertain…”JC? Jace?”…his eyes questioning and confused when he looked up to say…”Chris? What do I do? Help me…please?”
For a split second, the group only stood gawking at Joey and his limp burden before Joey’s knees gave out on him and he crumpled to the porch, barely keeping JC in his trembling grasp. It was at that instant that Chris shook himself then began barking out orders to the others.
The images were still raw and powerful…so much so that Chris felt a knot in his stomach and a catch in his breath. He reached up and held his head in his trembling hands and he closed his eyes, which were stinging with unshed tears.
“We’re going to get through this…somehow…we’re going to get through this,” he whispered through tear filled eyes before falling back upon his mattress.
He wiped a shaky hand over his face while at the same time coming to the realization that sleep just wasn’t going to come. So, quietly, he pushed his covers to the side and rolled off the mattress to his knees. Standing up slowly then stretching, he glanced about the room before carefully picking his way through the maze that had been created by the mattresses that they had placed in the room so that they could all be near each other…JC’s collapse causing their insecurities to resurface stronger than ever.
Movement from Justin caused Chris to cease his movements, freezing in place, hoping that he hadn’t awakened him. Moments later, once the younger man had again grown quiet, he made his way to the back door. With slow and careful movements, he unlocked and opened the door then stepped out onto the dimly lit porch.
The cool night air caused chill bumps to break out on his bare arms and he rubbed his hands up and down over them in an effort to stay warm. He walked over to the steps and sat down while gazing up at the star filled sky…his thoughts tumbling as hard and quick as the knots that were developing in his stomach.
Guilt…incredible guilt…
“I should have listened to Jace that night,” he told himself, his tone bitter as he allowed his mind to briefly revisit what little he remembered of his and JC’s attack at Lance’s home. “If I had only listened to his gut feelings instead of just plowing on in there. None of this would have happened tonight.”
“And…if I had locked the trailer door…absolutely, none of this would have happened,” a deep, quiet and slightly strained voice said, causing Chris to violently start. In his sudden burst of fear, he shot off the porch and took several stumbled steps into the dew damp grass, his heart racing, breaths caught in his throat s he turned to look behind him.
“Whoa…Chris. Hey, man…it’s just me,” the deep voice said in a rush, a shadowy figure stepping out under the light to reveal Lance, his eyes wide, hands out in an effort to calm the older man.
“Lance? Don’t do that to me…” Chris shakily breathed out, his hand still clutched against his chest in an effort to keep his heart from bursting through his chest. Taking another deep breath, he shook his head, a small smile breaking out on his face as he took the few steps back to the porch to join the younger man.
“I am so sorry, Chris,” Lance said, his own quiet voice shaking but not out of fear but regret.
“Hey…don’t worry about it. My nerves are just a little shot, I guess,” Chris said, his voice not so shaky. “What are you doing out here, Lance?” he asked, trying to make the other feel more at ease. “I thought you were still asleep. Did I wake you up?”
“No…you didn’t wake me up,” Lance said quietly. “I’d have to be asleep for that to happen.”
Chris frowned and raised his eyebrows at the admission. “You really need to get some. Your voice…” Chris said watching Lance lightly run a hand over his throat.
“I know…it sounds pretty bad. I want to sleep but I just can’t get my mind to slow down. It’s racing, Chris.”
“Yeah…I know what you mean,” Chris replied, unsure of what more he could say, realizing that there really wasn’t anything else he could.
For several moments the pair remained silent, the only sounds to be heard were those of nature. Finally, Chris noted Lance slightly shaking.
“I think we need to go inside.”
“Yeah…I’m getting kinda cold out here.”
“You think there might be some cocoa mix in the kitchen somewhere?” Chris asked, standing up and offering a hand to the younger man. A ghost of a smile appeared on Lance’s face and he nodded his head.
“Yeah. That sounds pretty good.”
Chris led the way back across the porch and the pair quietly entered the house. As he closed the door, Chris made it a point to lock the door, checking to make sure it was secure before following Lance into the kitchen.
Hours later, the early morning atmosphere in the Scott’s bright and airy kitchen was strained and somewhat awkward…no one was exactly sure of what to say…or, rather, what could be said…nor did anyone of the have any idea as to what they needed to do next.
No one had expected that JC’s memories of the attack that he and Chris had suffered at Lance’s home would remain hidden in the deep recesses of his mind forever. They had all been warned by Dr. Shannon that eventually the memories would begin to resurface in bits and pieces, but no one could have anticipated or fully prepared for the manner in which last night’s episode had occurred. Now…now, they were going to have to somehow work through this new development.
Lance glanced at those seated around him at the small kitchen table they had gathered around, save for JC, who was in the next room still sleeping off the effects of the sedative and Joey, who had taken some pain medication when Chris and Lance had reentered the living room an hour after getting up. They suspected that Joey would probably sleep for a few more hours since he hadn’t moved a muscle since and they suspected it would be hours more before JC would stir.
Justin was seated directly across from Lance, listlessly pushing a spoon through his barely touched bowl of soggy cereal. Lance couldn’t get a good look at his friend’s tired features since his face hidden by a hand that he had braced his forehead against, in what the older blond could only guess, through previous experiences, was an effort to hold back a headache.
Beside Justin was a bleary-eyed Chris and Lance felt instant sorrow for the oldest in the group. He was taking last night’s incident the hardest, blaming himself instead of channeling those feelings toward those who had brutally attacked him and JC. During the wee hours of the morning they had discussed that there had been no way that neither he nor JC could have prevented that assault or the one at the hospital. The men that had attacked were the ones who deserved the blame…the deep feelings of fault and guilt, but no amount of words would convince Chris otherwise…at least not for now…maybe later when they all had a chance to sit down and talk more.
Silently, Lance watched as Chris slowly tore small pieces of crust of a slice of toast then, dropping them onto the plate set before him, not even bothering to eat, his eyes seeming to be unfocused as they stared at the small, but growing pile of bread before him.
Lance inwardly frowned, tearing his eyes away to look out the bay window at broad pasturelands surrounding the house, his vision blurring as the tears prickling at the back of his eyes threatened to spill over.
‘Okay…ultimately, this all started with me…so…I guess I need to somehow get it together,’ he told himself, rubbing a hand over his eyes while trying to draw from some form of inner strength, only to realize, with a small sigh of resignation, that he couldn’t do it all alone. He would need everyone to help…but…judging by the faces and body language of those surrounding him, he had no idea how that would be happening. Everyone looked so defeated…so lost.
In the next room, those in the kitchen missed quiet movements and the sounds of covers slowly swishing about, indicating that someone was unexpectedly awakening.
Slowly, Joey’s brown eyes opened to squint at the morning light softly cascading into the room before bringing up a hand to shield them from the intrusive brightness. For a brief moment, he was afforded the luxury of having no memory of last night’s events, but then a soft rustling of covers on the mattress beside his pushed him harshly back into reality.
“Josh…” he whispered to himself as he turned his head to look at the figure lying just inches away, instantly regretting his quick movements and the sound of his scratchy, sleep laden voice. A flash of pain formed behind his eyes and he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his left hand while resting his heavily bandaged right on his chest.
“Nnnngh…” he quietly moaned, feeling a bit of a headache trying to push its way to the forefront…one of the few side effects of the pain medication that he was taking.
‘Humph…we’re a pretty sad group,’ Joey thought to himself. ‘I should have seen this coming…I didn’t protect one of them again.’
About thirty minutes away, Nora and William Holder were seated out on their back porch, drinking coffee and watching their bird feeders being assaulted by a wide variety of winged creatures.
“I’m not sure you really need to go over there this early in the morning, Albert,” Nora said quietly, affectionately using her husband’s middle name, watching him out of the corner of her eye.
“I’m sure those boys probably didn’t get much sleep last night and they might be sleeping in,” she added, knowing that he had already made up his mind anyway and that her words were falling on deaf ears.
“You might be right, mother, but if I’m going to show those boys around, we might as well do it early rather than late. Besides that, I want to check on them first thing this morning then give their physician a call.”
Nora simply nodded her head, knowing that once her husband’s mind had been made about any matter, there was no changing it. She quietly stood then moved about the porch looking at her potted plants, pinching off dead leaves and tossing them into the yard.
“Will you need for me to make you and the boys a picnic lunch?” she asked a few minutes later, after finishing with her plants.
“That would be good, mother,” Albert replied with a smile. “You will be going with me, won’t you?”
“Yes, dear. I’ll just stay at the house and make a batch of chili for the boys’ supper tonight. Might even start a stew for them too.”
“I’m sure they’ll appreciate that, but don’t start spoiling them, Nora,” he gently teased, knowing that his words would be ignored as he rose from his seat.
“Oh…pshaw. Let me be, Albert. You take care of those boys your way, and I’ll do it my way,” she answered with a wry grin, shaking a finger at her husband, who simply blew her a kiss before entering the house to call Dr. Shannon.