Epsilon, p.4
Epsilon, page 4
She loved Donkey Kong. His latest segment was called Banana Bikers. Shannon popped open a Pepsi and took a long slurp off of it. She wouldn’t dare drink soda this early in the morning if Leslie was up and around, but, luckily, she was out like a light.
The girl missed most of the plot of the cartoon. Her mind was spinning with thoughts about her meeting that day with Gig. After all the years spent wondering, she would be sitting in front of him in less than four hours.
Eventually, Saturday Supercade ended and the new Dungeons & Dragons show started. She was desperate to learn more about the role-playing game, but couldn’t get Melissa interested in playing. There was another girl at school, named Heather Lollis, who was known to play on the weekends with her (admittedly small) circle of friends. Apparently, she learned how to play from her brother Kevin, who, in an attempt to seem cool, spelled his last name ‘Lawless.’ Kevin was one of those friends Jack Ross hung out with. Shannon had only a passing acquaintance with Heather, and almost none with the girl’s friends, but she had been thinking about asking to join them sometime.
As the cartoon was ending, Shannon turned off the television and took her empty bowl to the sink. She took a shower and spent an absurd amount of time styling her hair. She didn’t want Gig to see her and think, “Well, thank God I didn’t end up raising that kid.”
By the time she finished her hair, Leslie was up and around. She ate two pieces of toast slathered with Welch’s grape jelly, then headed to the shower to repeat Shannon’s routine. Leslie didn’t want Gig back. Hell, no! However, she did want Gig to regret leaving her. She hoped his life was currently miserable and lonely and that he would drive home kicking himself. “Oh man! Leslie is a complete fox! Why did I leave her?” Then he would arrive home and cry all night. Leslie smiled at the thought.
By 11:30, both ladies were ready to go. Shannon was wearing her favorite shirt. It was a Duran Duran off-the-shoulder shirt with a Nagel painting of a smiling woman on the front with the title Rio underneath it. She wore high waisted stone-washed jeans with jelly shoes. On her right wrist were over a dozen bangle bracelets in a rainbow of pastel colors. Six belonged to Melissa, the rest were from her own collection.
Leslie was wearing a pale pink Izod shirt and capri pants. She didn’t wear much make-up. Her oversized tortoise shell glasses tended to accentuate her eyes more than eye-shadow and mascara ever did. She wasn’t going to stay for the conversation. She knew Shannon wanted to do it alone. Still, she wanted Gig to get a nice, long look before she made herself scarce.
They both got into Leslie’s metallic blue Chevy Citation. Shannon had brought a Mead Trapper Keeper filled with papers and held it in her lap. It took a few minutes to arrive in town. Their home was just over five miles from the Top Hat Drive-In. Leslie parked in one of the car stalls and got out. A carhop came out to take their order. Leslie explained the situation and that her daughter would be staying to eat lunch. The waitress said she understood, but that the stalls were only for people ordering food from inside their cars.
Leslie looked around. There were only two other vehicles in the place and over a dozen empty stalls. She held her tongue and got back into the car, then parked along the edge of the property. The restaurant had picnic benches for customers to use. She assumed some customers arrived in vehicles and decided to get out to use the picnic tables. She shook her head and decided to let it go. The day was for Shannon.
They sat at a picnic table to bide their time until Gig arrived. They didn’t have to wait long. He pulled up less than five minutes later in a black panel van. When he exited the van, he immediately recognized Leslie. If she could have read his mind, she would have been thrilled. The sight of her filled him with a profound sadness. She was just as lovely as he remembered. The extra years and mileage hadn’t taken any visible toll.
The young lady with her looked remarkably like her mother. She had feathered brown hair that was wavy on the ends. She possessed the same beautiful hazel eyes as Leslie. As was to be expected, she had absolutely none of Gig’s physical traits. Still, he’d have been proud to be her father if he could go back in time.
Leslie stood up and put her hands on her hips. “Jesus, Gig. You drive a kidnapper van now?”
They all three laughed. “No, no. I work part-time for a local band as a roadie. I need the van to haul around all of their gear.”
Leslie found herself feeling sorry for him. She wasn’t sure why. Seeing him again made her realize that, perhaps, time had worn away some of her anger toward him. “I’m glad you still work in music. You’re such a great guitarist, you should be on stage.”
As Gig arrived in front of her, he spread his arms haltingly. He wanted to give her a hug but feared a punch in the jaw. His fears seeped away as Leslie leaned in to accept the embrace. “I’m glad you’re well, Leslie. How’s your Dad?”
Leslie’s smile faltered for a moment. “He passed away a couple of years ago.”
“Aw man, I’m sorry. He was never a big fan of mine, but he was a good guy.”
She smiled and held her arm out to Shannon. The teenager stood up. “Gig, this is my daughter, Shannon.”
He held out a hand. Better for her to want a hug and not get it than not want one and have it thrust upon her. The girl took his hand and shook it. Leslie watched the exchange and relaxed a bit. It seemed certain he wouldn’t mentally scar the girl.
“I’m going to let you two have some time to talk without me hanging around. I have to go over to the Ben Franklin store for some crafting stuff. I’ll be back in about 30 minutes. Is that good?” Leslie smiled as they both nodded, and she turned to walk the two blocks to the store.
As she crossed the street, a gold Dodge Demon rolled up its driver side window, started up, and pulled away from the curb. It disappeared down the street heading out of town in the direction Leslie and Shannon had come from.
Gig was a bit of a car buff. He had noticed the Dodge Demon as he was approaching the Top Hat Drive-In. He gave up his dreams of being that guy driving a gorgeous muscle car years ago. He had finally splurged on a used Plymouth Barracuda a while back. He drove it for three weeks and then the thing died. He couldn’t afford to fix it and had to sell it.
Gig and Shannon sat down at the table. He laid down two colored folders and waved to one of the carhops. Shannon’s gaze lingered on the folders. It had to be the proof he promised. She laid her Mead binder on the picnic table. She had a few things to show him, too.
Shannon ordered a corn dog and a chocolate shake. Gig ordered the dreaded Stink Dog, an order of fries, and a large vanilla shake. As the waitress left to turn in their order, Gig pointed to Shannon’s shirt. “So, you’re a fan of Duran Duran?”
“Oh God, yes! You know who they are?”
Gig laughed. “I don’t live in a cave. I still keep up with music. What other bands do you like?”
Shannon began rattling off a long list that included Rod Stewart, The Fixx, Culture Club, The Human League, U2, Quarterflash, Def Leppard, Journey, The Go-Go’s, and Stevie Nicks. When he heard Stevie Nicks name, he jumped in.
“I met her once, you know.”
Shannon’s eyes widened. “Who? Stevie Nicks? When?”
“Fleetwood Mac was playing in Kansas City in 1977. One of my old bandmates knew some of their people and got us backstage. Man, she was beautiful. Super nice, too. At least she was to us.”
Shannon’s grin threatened to become so wide it would shear off the top of her head. “That is so awesome! Mom plays that Rock Junction album sometimes. I didn’t know you played in the band until recently.”
Gig didn’t seem surprised. “Guess she didn’t talk about me much. No reason to, I imagine.”
Shannon was about to respond when the carhop emerged with their food. They began to eat their lunch. Shannon was drowning the end of her corn dog in mustard and looking at Gig stealthily. His hair was very dark brown and down to just below his shoulders. Mixed in were a peppering of gray hairs. He had thick eyebrows and intense eyes. He wore a mustache that stretched down from the corners of his mouth like a biker. He definitely looked like a roadie. He didn’t, however, look anything like her.
Gig held up the Stink Dog for Shannon to view. There were so many onions on it that she could barely see the hot dog underneath. He gave a big smile, then opened his mouth and shoved the Stink Dog inside. Shannon grimaced. “Oh, grody!”
They both laughed. Gig struggled to keep onions from flying out of his mouth as he chuckled. A few seconds later, they both took long pulls through the straws on their shakes. She hated to bring down the mood, but she had to know. She tapped the folders. “I guess this is your proof?”
Gig slowed his chewing and looked down, nodding. After he swallowed the latest bite, he said, “I’m going to show this to you and explain everything, but I want you to know, I’m not doing this to hurt you or to reject you. I just need you to know I didn’t abandon my own fiancé and unborn child.”
“But, that’s kind of what you did, isn’t it? Maybe I wasn’t your blood, but I could have been your daughter.” She took one last bite of the corn dog and laid the bare stick on her paper plate.
Gig nodded slowly. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I guess what I am trying to say is that I want to show you the information that went into my decision at the time. I’m not saying it was the right decision, or that I wasn’t a jerk back then.”
Shannon nodded and watched him open the first folder. He extracted several sheets of paper including an official-looking form. He selected the form and laid it atop the other papers.
“See the date here?” He pointed to one of the top lines. “It’s March 9th in 1968. Your mother hadn’t been feeling very well, so we went to the hospital. While there, they discovered that she was pregnant with you.” He pointed to a notes section which clearly stated that the patient, Leslie Gail Brooks was over four weeks pregnant.
He opened the other folder and withdrew some more forms. These appeared to be military records and x-rays. He pointed to a section filled with dates near the top.
“I was wounded in Viet Nam. My leg was damaged by a grenade. I underwent a few surgeries and spent time in a VA hospital recovering and doing rehab. I was released on this date.” He pointed to the release date. It said March 1st, 1968. “After I got home a few days later, Leslie and I… well… you know. We had missed each other.” He blushed a bit.
“So, what does that mean?” Shannon thought she understood, but wanted to hear it from Gig.
“Your mom got pregnant at least three weeks before I was back in town.” He turned the forms around so she could read them easier. “Your mother insisted that the doctors were wrong. Maybe they were, but not by much. There’s no way her pregnancy was only eight days old.”
“So, Mom is lying…”
“I thought so, but over the years I’ve let go of that. I reacted poorly and accused her of not waiting for me to return. Thing is, everyone I talked to who knew both of us insisted that she only loved me and they never saw her showing interest in anyone else.”
He reached across the table and gently took Shannon’s hands. “I no longer believe your mom is lying. I believe she was impregnated without her knowledge. I don’t know how, but I know Leslie absolutely believes she was only with me.”
Shannon stared at the papers for a few minutes. Neither of them spoke. Finally, she put the papers in his folders and pushed them over to him. “I’m really, really sorry to have bothered you and dug up all of these difficult memories for you and Mom.”
Gig just looked down at his empty paper plate, littered with small pieces of chopped onions. “You know how I know humans will never discover time travel in my lifetime?”
Shannon gave a small chuckle. “No, how?”
“Because if they did, I’d have already gone back and married your mother and raised you as my daughter. I would. You seem like such an awesome girl. I wish I could take credit for that, but it was all Leslie’s doing. She did a fantastic job.” He reached and held her hands again. She looked up at him.
“I don’t even know what to feel about you.”
“I’d be thrilled to be a great family friend to you and your mom. Anytime you needed help with anything I might be able to help you with… maybe if you ever wanted to learn guitar. I hope I can be some kind of factor in your future. That would make me very happy.”
Shannon smiled without meeting his gaze. “I’d like that. I brought something for you, too.” She pulled her hands out of his grip and opened the Mead Trapper Keeper. Inside were several pictures and several notebook pages with writing on them.
“I wanted you to have these.” She picked up a school portrait and handed it to him. “This is my 9th grade school picture. Mom wouldn’t let me wear the Duran Duran shirt.” They both laughed.
As they went through the photos and she read a few of the poems she had written over the years, Leslie arrived to join them. She was carrying a bag full of various types and colors of yarn and fabrics. “Everything okay over here?” She sat beside Shannon.
The girl smiled broadly and looked at her mother. “Yeah, everything’s going to be alright.”
The Breach
The Demon watched the two women as they greeted the man at the Top Hat Drive-In. A family friend? The father, maybe? The mother excused herself. With his window rolled down, he could hear her say she’d come back in 30 minutes. As she began to walk away, he rolled up the window, started the car, and headed out of town.
A few minutes later, he pulled onto an access road that ran along the western edge of the Brooks’ property. He got out and removed a few tools from his trunk. Locking everything up, he headed across the wide field.
It was obvious that nothing had been grown there for years. Well, no crops, anyway. The wide-open area contained a few sparse trees with bare branches along the perimeter. The main fields contained scrub, tall grass, and occasional naked sticks and twigs jutting up.
He arrived at the back of the Brooks house fairly quickly. Behind the home there were two sheds. One was open on both sides. More of a metal canopy than anything else. Inside was a lawnmower, a roto-tiller, and an assortment of shovels, rakes, and other gardening gadgets.
The other shed was much nicer. A peek through the lone window revealed a workbench, a couple of radios, and a variety of wood-working machines. The door had a padlock. Probably more for privacy than to protect valuables.
The Demon went to the back door of the house and examined the lock. He slid a flat leather case out of his back pocket and opened it to reveal a set of lockpicks. He extracted the two tension wrenches and inserted them. A few moments later the lock popped open. He returned the wrenches to their case and slipped inside.
The man stopped for a moment and experienced a shudder through his body. The thrill of the intrusion was delicious. When he stalked and grabbed his playthings, they were usually outside, walking home, or in a dimly lit parking lot. He rarely got to see into their worlds.
Once the feeling passed, he began to look around. He started at the end of the hallway first. There was a large bedroom with almost an entire wall dedicated to a huge closet.
On the walls were at least two dozen dreamcatchers and obnoxious stick-and-yarn monstrosities. Someone was a crafter. The room must belong to the mother. That didn’t interest him. He left and entered the next room on his way back toward the living room. It was a bathroom.
The man went to the sink and inspected the display of brushes, combs, a blow dryer, oils, creams, perfumes, and hair sprays. He saw a bright turquoise, rounded brush. Caught in its bristles were strands of brown hair. There was another brush, but it was tan. He couldn’t imagine the girl using that one. He pulled several strands of the captive hairs out and put them in a small baggie he had stored in his front jeans pocket.
The next room, situated across the hallway, was apparently a guest room. The decorations were very plain. There was no personality to it. He closed the door as he left.
The next room, closest to the living room, obviously belonged to the girl. The walls contained posters of musicians and one from the movie Fame. There was a small vanity against one wall. Along the edges of the mirror were photos of other teenage girls. Probably her friends. He recognized one as the girl she talked to outside of the bus the day he first saw her. In big letters cut out of different colors of paper with glitter glued to them, were letters spelling out the name “Shannon.” Now he knew her name.
Across the top of the mirror, several colorful ribbons were taped. Each were a satiny green and gold. Each contained a cartoon bird posing in different positions. The top of each said “Go Falcons!” He opened each drawer and poked around a bit. He went over to the large window that looked out on the back yard. Below the window was a bench seat.
He went to her bed and slowly laid down. He stretched out and felt the thrill again. He quickly jerked upright. What if he got too comfortable and fell asleep? Wouldn’t that be inconvenient if they came home and found him like that? He’d have to kill them both then and there and make it look like a random break-in.
He left the girl’s room and entered the kitchen. He pulled out a few drawers. In one he found a bunch of miscellaneous junk. There were wires, scissors, a few keys, some pieces from toys. Then he saw the Barbie head. Its dead eyes looked into him. Its hair was a chopped-up mess. He picked it up and held it close to his face.
It would suffice.
He placed the head into the baggie containing the hair. Then, as he was preparing to leave, he thought about the pictures in her room. He wanted one. He usually took his own with a Polaroid camera, but the ones in the room were so clear. He re-entered Shannon’s room and at that moment he heard a thump. Then another.
