Part Twenty Three: Distressed Leather

It had been a long time since Rahab had seen Mike, so she was not prepared for that Saturday afternoon when he arrived at the house, riding a big, long, noisy, black and chrome motorcycle, dressed from the neck down in black leather, with the same faded, purple and orange bandana tied tightly to his head, pirate-skullcap style. A pair of customized, leather goggles hung around his neck. His cheerful though guarded greeting told her that he had forgiven but not forgotten their spat, and he kept a polite distance from her as he visited with Gaele.

Rahab, on the other hand, was bursting with curiosity over Mike's obvious change of lifestyle. She just couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"What's with this, and the motorcycle?" she said, pointing at his clothes.

He glanced up at her in mild surprise, then grinned.

"That's a big bike," Gaele declared.

"Uh, well, it's like this," Mike said, getting up from where he had been sitting on the front step with his daughter. "I had to put up the Testarossa, it was getting kind of played. It didn't pass the smog test, and the guys over at Ferrari took one look at it and laughed their heads off, they'd never seen anything come in there that looked as bad as that. When they gave me an estimate for repairs I told them they could cram-- I mean, keep it." He sighed and scratched the side of his neck. "Whatever. Besides, this is more fun."

"I take it you can't pick Gaele up anymore?"

Mike patted the bike seat affectionately. "She can ride on the back, see? It's built for two."

"Cool!" Gaele clapped her hands. "Can I have a ride on it, Daddy?"

"No," Rahab said firmly, shaking her head at Gaele.

Gaele stood still in surprise. "Why not?"

"It's too dangerous..."

Mike rolled his eyes. "Aah, come on, Rahab, it's not dangerous!"

"It is so! All it takes is one little mistake..."

"I don't make mistakes," Mike interrupted, smirking at her. He lifted Gaele onto the seat, and watched her lean up and grasp the handlebars, while making motorcycle noises.

"What was that supposed to mean, Mike?" Rahab asked quietly, after a few minutes.

Mike's grin faded as he looked in her direction. "I think you know what I meant."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do!"

"Da-addee," Gaele cut in. "How's this thing work?"

Gaele's interruption seemed to break the tension, because Mike sighed and turned his attention on his daughter.

Rahab stared at the intricate design painted on the back of Mike's sleeveless jacket. It was the stylized portrait of a white, leering goat rearing head-on, with long, curving golden horns and red bat's wings. Its cloven hooves grasped a series of letters that Rahab couldn't read. Between the horns was a green, upside down pentagram, enclosed in a circle.

"What is THIS?" Rahab said, tapping Mike's back gingerly with a forefinger.

He turned and stared at her. "What?"

"That design on your jacket, it looks... Satanic."

"So?"

"Mike... that could upset people-"

Mike gazed fiercely at her. "Hey, I don't care what people think, okay? and it isn't Satanic, it's just art. I don't believe in that Satanic stuff, anyway."

"Mike," Rahab said as patiently as she could, "What about Gaele?"

Mike looked at Gaele, who was blithely lost in some little fantasy ride on the bike.

"You know how much she wants to go to school... would you be willing to drop her off at kindergarten looking the way you do? People are going to misunderstand."

"Big deal, so this is L.A.! Half the people living in the 'Hills look like this."

Rahab stared into his eyes, slowly folding her arms across her chest. "No, they don’t."

"All right, I got your point," he said at length.

"It's just you have to take Gaele's point of view in this, Mike... she's going to have enough difficulty fitting in, it won't help to have her father look like some escapee from Hell."

He sniggered when she said this, and looked at his hands held out in front of him. "Okay, Rahab... only I can't do anything about the tattoos."

"What tattoos?"

Mike didn't answer, he was staring at something a short distance behind her, with a growing look of wariness on his face. She turned and saw Raphael approaching, with Devon riding on his shoulders. Raphael slowed as he got closer, his eyes narrowed in suspicion at Mike. They stood a few paces apart, gravely sizing each other up.

"Watthahelliziss," Raphael said in an uncomfortably loud voice. Devon yelled something similar from above Raph's head, with a disapproving scowl that matched his father's.

Mike snorted in disgust. "You all've gotta be the ugliest yelling totem pole..."

"Shaddap," Raphael shouted, getting closer to Mike's face. " Who invited you over here? Didn't I tell you not to come around here? Hah?"

"What are you guys doing," Rahab demanded. "And with the children around?"

They ignored her. Raphael set Devon down, who immediately scrambled up on the bike to sit in front of Gaele.

"Big bike," Gaele said to him, as Devon craned his neck to look at the instrument panel.

"BITE," Devon shouted, drumming his sturdy hands on the gleaming gas tank.

"Get that grimy kid off my hog, he's leaving fingerprints," Mike protested, frowning at Devon.

"Get him off yourself, ugly," Raphael snarled.

"You're the one who's ugly, toadface!"

"Look at you! Who you tryin' to be, one of the friggin' Village People? Or are you into S an' M?"

"Will you two cut it out?" Rahab tried to pry Devon off the motorcycle, which was threatening to topple off its kickstand. "Gaele, get down, now!"

"Mo-om! Dad said I could," Gaele whimpered. Devon squirmed out of Rahab's arms, and climbed over Gaele.

The conversation between Mike and Raphael had deteriorated considerably and the next thing Rahab knew, the two brothers were rolling down the embankment, in a cloud of dust.

"Ohh, for- When are you two gonna grow up? And will you stop talking like that--"

"F***," Devon yelled, loud and clear, and then grinned at his sister's shocked expression.

Gaele gasped and clapped a hand over her open mouth. "Um-mnn! Mom, did you hear what Devon just said?"

After staring at her a second, Rahab hunkered down on the driveway and picked up a large rock, and hove it in the direction of the fight, and heard with great satisfaction the thud and resulting roar of pain from one of them. A second later, Raphael stood up, holding the back of his head.

"What the hell're ya doin'?"

"That was meant for both of you foulmouthed pinheads!"

Finding another stone, she aimed it at Mike, and flung it as hard as she could. He saw it coming, and ducked it easily. "Hey!"

They glanced at each other, then started for her, and she turned and ran toward the house, past the wide-eyed stares of the children, and through the front door.

She felt a hand grab her arm and roughly turn her around. She spun and faced Raphael's furious expression. "What are you, some kind of psycho?"

"You're the one who's crazy," she shot back. "Coming up there like that, coming up when Mike wasn't doing anything, and starting a big fight!"

"What big fight? We were just fooling around, Rahab. Don't you know by now, can't you tell? You know when I yell like that, I'm just fooling."

"Oh, right! And talking like that in front of the children? You and Mike should both know better than that! I swear, sometimes you behave worse than Devon!"

Raphael fell silent, jaws working, as he lowered his eyes in thought. He looked at his hand, which Rahab noticed in horror was covered with blood.

"Is it bad?" She tried to get a look at the back of his head. He turned, so she couldn't.

"Nah, it's no biggie."

"You're bleeding!"

"Not much."

Mike cautiously peered in through the doorway.

"C'mon in, Mikey," Raphael waved him in.

"Uh... could somebody get Devon off my bike? He's-- you know--"

"Oh, I'll get him," Rahab said. Raphael followed her.

Devon was standing on the motorcycle seat, loudly repeating his fascinating new word, over and over, grinning at Gaele who stood by, solemnly covering her ears.

"Devon, get down, now, and stop saying that," Rahab said calmly.

Devon stopped a moment, and stared at her, then went on with his shouting.

"Devon!"

Devon ignored her.

"Hey," Raphael shouted at him. "Didn't you hear your mother? GEDDOWN!!!"

Devon sat on his haunches, and glowered at his father. He stuck his little jaw out in a stubborn expression. "NO!"

Before Rahab could react, Raphael jerked Devon off the bike by one arm. Devon struggled, then savagely bit Raphael on the wrist.

The expression on Raphael's face as he stared at his bleeding wrist scared Rahab. "Raphael, wait! Don't!"

Grabbing Devon by the scruff of his neck, Raphael pinned him against his thigh, as he took off his own belt.

"No! Stop it--" Rahab tried to hang onto Raphael's arm as he beat Devon, but was roughly shoved aside.

Devon gaped in horror, shrieking in pain, as the strap came down across his back, and when Raphael finally released him, he fell in a quivering heap onto the asphalt.

"You've hurt him," Rahab gasped, reaching for Devon.

"He can handle it," Raphael ground out, as he put his belt back on, and stalked back toward the house.

"He's only a baby," she yelled after him, as she knelt to hold Devon, who was barely able to breathe, he was sobbing so hard. For once he was passive, and let his mother pick him up, and he clung to her neck, sniveling.

Mike and Gaele looked at her soberly, as she entered the house. She stopped when she was level with Mike. "You'll stick around, won't you? I have to speak with you."

He shrugged. "Sure, I think."

She looked at the long, red welt on his back, as she undressed him. He continued his body shaking sobs, not resisting when Rahab lowered him into the tub. She tried to think, but no thoughts came, the usual little dialogues that went on in her head were now shocked into silence.

When Devon finally calmed enough to fall into a fitful sleep, she put him belly down in his crib, and closed the door. Walking by Seth's room, she peeked in, to see him still asleep, a peaceful, angelic expression on his pale little face.

She found Mike and Gaele sitting in the den, Gaele immersed in a TV show. Rahab settled into a recliner nearby, and sighed.

Mike was watching her. "Rahab," he said at length. "Does Raph usually do stuff like that?"

She stared back at him. "He's never even spanked him before," she said wearily.

He made a noise of acknowledgement.

They sat in silence a long time.

"You wanted to ask me something, didn't ya?"

"Yeah," Rahab said thoughtfully.

"So, what did you want to ask?"

Rahab sighed. " I dunno... oh, do you ever remember Splinter beating you?"

"What?"

"Did Splinter-- what did Splinter do when you guys misbehaved?"

Mike gave her a wary look, then shrugged expansively in a show of nonchalance. "Ahh, he gave us a lot of long looks, you know, like this..." He glowered at Rahab in such a close imitation of Splinter's stern expression, Rahab almost grinned.

"But seriously, Mike. Did Splinter ever, you know, hit any of you?"

Mike snorted in half amusement. "Are you kidding me? He clobbered us all the time. I mean, you know, when he caught us messing around too much. But I don't blame him," Mike added quickly, "He had to, so we'd take him seriously. I think Raph and me were the little hellions, we tended to shoot out mouths off and talk back. Usually it was me he knocked over the head the most with that stick of his. He may not weigh much more than a cat, but he sure could pack a mean punch. I mean, I must weigh ten times as much as he does, and he used to sling me across the room like I was nothing!" Mike chuckled, then grew sober again. "What are you getting at, Rahab?"

"What am I getting at," Rahab said, aghast. "You saw what Raph did to Devon! I thought he was going to beat him to death! Why would he do that to his own son?"

Mike looked stricken, and turned his gaze on the back of Gaele, comfortably parked in front of the TV. "Well, I can tell you something, Splinter never lost it when he had to get physical. He did it to teach us something, to keep us alive. Somehow we knew that, so there was rarely a time when we really ever gave him any crap. I dunno, Rahab, I don’t think Raph would want to injure him, or anything. I've only ever seen him be totally patient with him."

Rahab became silent, she couldn't think of any more to say.

Mike got up and stretched. "Listen, I gotta go, I've got a, uh, friend down at the other house waiting around for me."

When he said this, Gaele turned and looked at him sadly. "Aw, Daddy, do you have to go now?"

"I'll be back for you in the morning, okay?" Mike bent over and kissed her hair.

Gaele made a noise of half hearted disappointment, but it was soon lost as she directed her attention back to the TV.

"My girl, the tube head," Mike muttered, and flashed a grin at Rahab as he went out.

The aroma of brewing coffee woke Rahab early the next morning. As she pulled on her robe and went out toward the kitchen, she could see it was just getting light outside. The coffee maker was recently done, and half empty, she noticed, as she got herself some. She took a sip, and cupping her hands around the warmth of the cup, wandered out into the atrium. It was there she saw Raphael, slumped in a recliner, feet apart, grimly hanging onto a steaming mug.

"Well, there you are," she said.

He shifted in his chair. "Well, here I am, like a turkey buzzard."

"Oh, Raph..." Rahab sighed, and leaned against a support beam.

He took a sip from his mug, and closed his eyes wearily.

"Where've you been all night," she asked.

"Just out, walkin'."

"Oh."

She watched the sky lighten to a pale lilac, against the dark silhouettes of the ornamental trees.

"Pretty morning," she said.

"It's gonna rain."

"Maybe, but I think it will clear up."

"Maybe it won’t."

Rahab stared at him a long moment, trying to think of something to say in return to his caustic comments, but she realized it wouldn't be worth it. She took her cup back to the kitchen when she finished its contents, and rinsed it in the sink, and headed back to the bedroom.

She finished making the bed, and then noticed Raphael peering through the bedroom doorway at her. "Rahab, I need to talk to you," he said quietly.

"That would be a real good idea," she returned.

His expression was muddy and unreadable, as he sat on the edge of the bed. He inspected his fingernails a moment, then looked sideways at her. "This ain't easy for me to say."

"Take your time, Raph," she said without emotion, as she sat near him.

He nervously scratched the back of his neck. "Just ain't easy, that's all."

"You been having trouble? You know, with headaches? Forgetting things?"

"No," he said abruptly, looking annoyed. "It's not physical, this time."

She didn't answer, but stared at the floor in front of her.

She heard him clear his throat a little. "Rahab, I think-- I don't think I can hack this lifestyle any more."

"Lifestyle?" she said suddenly.

"You know, this... domestic thing."

She turned her head to stare directly at him. "What?"

"Look. I know this isn't easy, it isn't for me-"

"What are you getting at, Raphael?"

His eyes widened. "It's this life, Rahab, living in a house, raising all these kids... it's getting to me. I’m on overload. I don’t want to deal with it any more."

Rahab stood up. "You don't want to deal it any more? What kind of statement is that? This isn't a game, Raphael, it isn't a job, you can't just quit."

He stared at her with that same muddy expression. "I don't want to take it out on Devon any more. He'll be better off without me."

"No, he wouldn't! Just because you lost your temper--" She couldn't finish, when she realized what she was saying. When she looked at Raphael, she could see him nodding slowly.

"The case rests," he said, and got up and went over to the closet. He got out his overcoat, and threw it on the bed, then went through some drawers, getting things out, and dropping them in a pile.

"What are you doing?"

"I have to go back to New York. Don's there, he said he needs me." He stopped to look at her again. "He needs me."

Rahab leaned against the closet door. "Since when?"

"He called me last night. Something's come up."

"May I ask what it is?"

"No."

She shrugged a little, and stared at her feet. "One of those things, then."

"Yeah, it's one of those things." Raphael reached in to pull out a small canvas bag. "It's not your problem."

"Not my problem? After what you just said, about not wanting to have a family, and you're packing to leave, to go do... heaven knows what..." The rest of the sentence died when she saw him unlock and open a narrow cedar chest, on the floor of the closet. She knew what he kept in there, she'd seen it before. He got out a foot long, slightly curved, lacquered wood and ivory sheath, that housed a Japanese blade. He had shown it to her once, had told her what it meant to him. It was very old, and valuable, and had two dragons coiled around it in silver. He never took it anywhere, he just kept it locked in that box in the closet. Their eyes met a long, pulsing moment, and he silently put it in the bag.

When he finished packing, he stood up straight, and faced her. She didn't look up, but she knew he was standing that way, because his stance generally matched his mood. She never liked it when he stood that way, his weight centered, feet apart a little. She always felt as though she were facing some sort of adversary.

"I know, you don't have to tell me, you aren't coming back this time."

"You don't know that."

"But you know it."

"I can't think about it now."

"You can't? Why not?" She gave him a quizzical look.

"I have to... not think."

"I think I get it," she said softly, after a pause.

Raphael stared through her.

"You have to be somebody else."

"No," he said faintly. "I have to be... nothing."

It was the last thing he said to her, before he left.

Mike breezed in several hours later, wearing a gently faded denim jacket, and a crisp, new, red and white paisley bandana, tied tightly to his head, pirate-skullcap style.

"Hey," he said to Rahab, when he found her in the garden. "How's this for dropping Gaele off at BH Elementary?"

Rahab snorted. "You look like you're off to a Bruce Springsteen concert."

Mike groaned. "Kaa-mon, Rahab, gimme some slack, I'm trying, okay? I mean, I'm just trying to look less, uh, threatening to the other So-Cal-soccer-mommies."

"So-Cal... uh, what?"

He flapped a hand at her. "Forget it. You can read it in my book... when I get around to writing it. Hey, where's the girl with a capital 'G'?"

Rahab shook her head in mock disbelief. "She's over in the play yard, with Devon."

"Hey, you should check out what I'm driving now," Mike said, after studying her for a curious moment.

"Do I have to?" Rahab pretended to groan.

Mike tossed his head. "I want to get, ah, your approval."

She went with him to the front of the house, and he gestured at a dust covered, late model Range Rover.

"Where did you get that?"

"I just borrowed it. I want to fit in with all the other 'Burban Assault Vehicles lined up to drop off their kiddies. But if we like it, I might just go buy a couple."

"I don't know, Mike..." His words sunk in, and she forgot the rest of her comment. "Why would you buy a couple?"

He shrugged in exaggerated innocence. "Well, I thought maybe if you liked it enough, you'd like to have one, too. "

"Why would I want one?"

Mike looked at her thoughtfully. "You know, Rahab, you really oughta learn how to drive, and get out on your own a little more. Range Rovers are all the rage, right now. If the other parents saw you in one, they'd think you were as cool as them and ask you to join the PTA."

"Where in the world would I go by myself? You know how risky that is. Pretty conspicuous, wouldn't you think?"

"There's a thing called one-way windows. Who'd see you?"

Rahab stared at him suspiciously, and he stared back. "What are you trying to tell me, Mike?"

Mike lost his airy expression, and seemed to deflate a little. "I talked with Raph before he left for Nueva York. He asked me to look out for you."

She turned away from him, and started walking back toward the rear of the house.

"Rahab," she heard Mike say. "It's okay, really. I don't mind."

She knew he was following her, but she kept walking. The farther she went, the worse she felt, until she stopped and put her hands over her face to suppress a sob. She managed to get it under a reasonable degree of control, then she turned to glare at Mike. "What am I, a child? That I need a sitter?"

"That's not what I meant, Rahab, you oughta know that."

"I certainly hope not."

"Come on, Rahab. You can't expect to raise all those kids alone, can you?"

"Of course not! Gaele practically lives with you, as it is."

"I meant the other ones. Devon and Seth."

Rahab stood as quietly as she could, trying to calm her frantic thoughts, as she watched Mike's face. "You plan on raising them as well, Mike?"

"Somebody has to do it, Rahab."

"I take it you know something I don't."

"Maybe you know it, too."

"Maybe not."

"Rahab, maybe its time you faced reality here."

"Oh?" Rahab shot back. "Who are you to say?"

Mike lowered his eyes, and stirred at the pebbles under his feet. After a moment, he looked up at her. "I've been just on the perimeter of your life, Rahab. On the outside, looking in. But I see Leo drift in and then out. I see Raphael dropping out, he can't handle it."

"Handle what," Rahab asked haltingly.

"Being a parent." Mike stood back and folded his arms, his expression mockingly grim. "Never before have I had more worries, more challenges, more fears... until Gaele was born. And then Devon, and then Seth. I swear, it's easier being ninja than being a parent."

"You seem to like being a parent."

"Like?" Mike snorted. "I don't just like-" He paused in mid sentence, and looked intently past her. "Excuse me a moment," he said, and trotted over to where Gaele and Devon, who had begun some sort of argument at the top of the slide, were threatening to tumble off its apex.

He came back with Devon on his arm, and Gaele affectionately clinging to his thigh. "Like I was saying--"

Rahab suppressed a giggle. "It's pretty obvious." She patted Devon's cheek. "I can see where your heart is the most."

Mike looked her over a long moment, a faint smile forming on his lips. "Yeah. I'll bet you can."

The look in his eyes and the gentle tone of his voice had a strange, bittersweet calming effect on her, she found herself returning his gaze, not caring how he was willing to interpret it.

The effect was unexpected. Mike suddenly stirred, and looked away from her, not before she caught the fleeting glimpse of alarm in his eyes.

He stood back and cleared his throat, and set Devon down. "So, ah, I guess I'd better run along, I promised Gaele I'd take her on a test ride in in this so-called world class, hybrid all-terrain station wagon-jeep thingie..." He looked down at his daughter, who had been watching her parents' interaction with great interest. "You ready to go, sweetheart?"

"Can Devon go with us?" Gaele had a broad smile on her face as she gazed up at Mike.

"Go?" Devon asked, giving Mike an equally charming, dimpled grin, and patted Mike's other thigh for emphasis.

Mike gave Devon a guarded smile, and warily glanced at Rahab. "I dunno if that's a good... idea."

"Daddy please?" Gaele yanked on Mike's hand. "Please-please please?"

"Pea? Peepeepee Pea?" Devon chimed in, pulling on Mike's other hand.

"We'll be good, we'll be incredibly extra super deluxe good," Gaele added.

"Yeah, I can believe that," Mike muttered half under his breath. He looked at Rahab. "I dunno, Devon's been kinda quiet this morning, maybe he'll be all right, huh?"

Rahab sighed. "I guess if it's all right with you... maybe he needs a distraction."

Devon gazed up at Mike, looking wide eyed and innocent. "Go?"

Mike smiled at him. "Okay, you can go..."

The kids' exuberant reaction drowned out the rest of what Mike said, so he shook his head and grinned ruefully at Rahab. He herded the two toward the vehicle, and strapped them down in the back seat. They sat looking at Rahab, faces wreathed in smiles, waving through the open passenger door at her.

Mike turned to get in, and then stopped and eyed her.

"What?" Rahab asked, cocking her head at him.

"You want to come with us?"

She looked at Mike, a dubious answer forming at the back of her mouth, but then when she saw the expectant expressions on all their faces, she sighed in resignation. "Okay, let me go get Seth."

Gaele hopped in her seatbelt. "Yay! Mommee's coming with us!"

She and Devon were still chanting the same phrase, when Rahab came out, carrying Seth in his car seat and his diaper bag, comforter, and various other baby paraphernalia. Mike was leaning his forearms on the grille guard of the vehicle.

"Geez, you gotta bring half the house with ya, don't ya," he said jokingly, as he came over and took Seth from her, and strapped him in the center space in the rear seat.

"I brought some food, and drinks..." Rahab held up a paper bag.

"You didn't have to do that, I have a cooler, loaded to the gills, in the back."

Rahab peered in through the rear hatch as Mike opened it to insert Seth's luggage. "My word, Mike. Were you expecting..." she stopped and pressed her lips together. "You little turkey, you knew I'd come along, didn't you?"

Mike barked in sudden laughter. "Really, I wasn't sure, I didn't know what kind of mood you'd be in, but- just in case, you know?"

"You little turkey," she said again, and smiled at him.

Next section... Rahab 24