Chapter 8
Tyler was in the garage carefully painting Jupiter’s red spot onto a Styrofoam ball.
“Hey, Dad. Does this look right?”
James examined the planet.
“Looks perfect, buddy.”
“It’s my favorite. I like that it has a giant storm that’s been raging for hundreds of years. That’s so cool.”
James smiled.
Tyler was fascinated by chaos and destruction now, but in a healthy way.
A scientific way.
He had asked for books on natural disasters for his ninth birthday and could explain the formation of tornadoes with alarming accuracy.
James’s therapist said it was Tyler’s way of processing trauma, understanding destructive forces in a safe and controlled context.
James just made sure Tyler had all the books he wanted.
He answered endless questions about hurricanes, earthquakes, and supervolcanoes.
“You know what else is cool?” Tyler said, not looking up from his painting. “Grandma Beatrice is never getting out of that place.”
James stiffened.
Tyler almost never mentioned her.
“Where did you hear that?”
“I Google sometimes,” Tyler said. “I wanted to know if I was safe.”
He met James’s eyes.
“Am I bad for being glad she’s stuck there?”
“No, buddy,” James said. “You’re not bad. What you feel about her is completely valid.”
“Good. Because I hope she never gets out. I hope she stays there forever.”
Tyler went back to painting.
“Is that wrong?”
James thought about all the therapy.
All the psychology training.
All the right answers he was supposed to give.
Then he thought about the scratch marks on that door.
“No, Tyler,” he said. “That’s not wrong at all.”
Two years after the trial, James received notice that Karen had died in a car accident in Phoenix.
Quick, the lawyer said.
She did not suffer.
James told Tyler gently, ready to comfort whatever grief might emerge.
Tyler stared at the wall for a long moment.
“Okay,” he said finally. “Can I still go to Danny’s house this afternoon?”
“Of course. Are you sure? Do you want to talk about it?”
Tyler shrugged.
“Not really. I don’t feel sad. Should I feel sad?”
“You should feel however you feel.”
“Then I don’t feel sad,” Tyler said. “She chose Grandma Beatrice over me. That was her choice.”
His voice was matter-of-fact.
Neither angry nor hurt.
Just done.
“I have you. That’s enough.”
James pulled him into a hug.
“You’ll always have me. Always.”
They did not attend Karen’s funeral.
James sent flowers and a donation to a children’s advocacy charity.
That felt like enough.
Beatrice lived another three years in the prison medical facility as her condition deteriorated.
When she died, no one claimed the body.
She was cremated at state expense and buried in an unmarked grave in the prison cemetery.
James did not attend.
He did not send flowers.
He did not acknowledge it at all.
The day he got the notification, he took Tyler out for ice cream.
They sat at the boardwalk, watching the sunset.
Tyler chattered about his upcoming middle school graduation and his acceptance into the advanced science program.
“Dad,” Tyler said around a mouthful of mint chocolate chip, “I’ve been thinking about that essay I wrote.”
“The one that started everything?”
“Yeah. I’m glad I wrote it. Even though it was scary and everything that happened after was hard, I’m glad I told the truth.”
“Me too, buddy.”
“Because if I hadn’t, I’d still be going to that house. Still being put in that room. Still thinking I was broken.”
Tyler looked at James with clear, steady eyes.
“Writing that essay saved my life.”
“You saved your own life, Tyler,” James said. “You were brave enough to ask for help. That was all you.”
“We saved each other then,” Tyler said.
He grinned.
“Team Walsh.”
“Team Walsh,” James agreed.
They finished their ice cream as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky orange and pink.
Tyler asked if they could stop by the bookstore on the way home.
There was a new book on black holes he wanted.
James said yes, of course, and listened to Tyler explain Hawking radiation with the enthusiasm only a twelve-year-old science nerd could muster.
He thought about revenge.
May you like
Real revenge.
And he realized it looked nothing like he had expected.
