PART THREE c - Therapy

  Wiz walked over. She was pointing at the room. Really pointing. Her face was… not pale. White. Shock? She… seemed to not be able to speak. She was hyperventiting. Not pointing either. Stabbing with her finger in the air. Wild. Then she got her… whatever it was together. Screamed, the most blood curdling scream she was likely capable of. It set my hairs on the back of my neck up.

  Wiz put his hand up, palm at me. He had his gun out, it just appeared in his hand like magic. He thumbed the hammer back, but had his finger down the side. He didn't know what was going on, but he didn't like it. Lightning was in shock. Just stabbing in the direction of the door, with her finger, wild. He had his finger down the gun, so he didn't shoot if he didn't mean to. He kept it pointed right at the door. Something was in there, and it was bad. If it came out of the door, it was going to get it. He grabbed Little Lightning's hand and bodily dragged her over towards me and went back. When he was still close to the door, he had the gun pointed at the door. While dragging her by her wrist or hand, his eyes were glued to that door. There was obviously something in there, and it was bad.

  She had found the shit-er, you could smell it now. The reek was coming. It started when Teddy Ball had opened the hinged metal thing, and once she kicked the rusty hinges enough to squeeze in to retrieve poor Teddy, it got worse. He was fairly calm, he had his back standing next to the door. He tried to take a quick peek, but didn't see anything. He seemed to count to three in his head. I guess third time's a charm even for the military police. He whirled, kicked the door open that st little bit and went in…

  He backed right out. Lowered his gun. Put it away after lowering the hammer carefully. Lightning found her lungs once more, and started screaming bloody murder, then got words into it. Get Teddy, you get Teddy, you get him out of there, Teddy's scared, you get him now.

  He rubbed her hair. He went over. He went in and came out with Teddy Ball, and handed it to her. She hugged Teddy Ball, and wiped him with her hand, petting him. Calming him down. She rocked gently, on the floor. Terrified. I had to come over and see what the hell was… he grabbed me. I went to push him and go see… it wasn't dangerous, he went in with his gun put away to get Teddy Ball for her.

  He actually hurt my arms, holding me hard enough I wasn't getting in there. He just kept telling me "no". Which, he isn't really allowed to tell me, but… he's definitely not allowed to hurt me either, and he was hurting my arms.

  I was putting my strength into it, and he started shaking me. He yelled in my face. He screamed… you don't want to go in there. I could hear the flies now. Dead animal. The reek. Must be bigger than a raccoon… I started yelling at him. What did she see. What's in there. He kept telling me no. Shaking me. Telling me I didn't want to see it.

  "Then you damn well better tell me! The hell's in there! Why is she…"

  Little lightning was in… shock. She was humming, and rocking on the floor, petting Teddy Ball. Because he was scared to have been in there. I kept demanding to know. He looked me dead in the eyes. And simply stated quietly.

  "Remember she told Teddy Ball, to help her find Moody?"

  "Yeah… but…"

  "Well. He did."

  It took me a few seconds to put it all together. Lightning was in complete shock. What we thought was festering shit smell, to go with the rancid piss smell… well? He had said, it smelled more like a dead animal, like a raccoon maybe. That was before Teddy Ball opened the metal door, then fell in. The smell got worse. Then the door… smell got worse again. Lightning said it was shit all right, she could hear the flies… She had the lighter, to see to get Teddy Ball… oh no. He saw recognition cross my face, he nodded yes.

  "You… don't want to see this. Trust me here. I'm worried about her, she saw it. You don't want to see it. Just, remember her like she's supposed to be. Not like that."

  Oh god. Its been days, since the phone quit. Straight to voice mail, customer not avaible. Days. Summer. Flies. Oh Christ. There I go, I went and… tasted my ass hairs, after the food and drink and foam were done. The dry heaves that wouldn't quit. At least the hot bck oil wasn't squirting out my ass this time. That's something, anyways.

  He dragged Lightning over to the door as gently as he could. Then he came and walked me over. I asked what do we do now. He called the cop. The one that was nice enough to give us a free dime bag to enhance his cover. I heard him say softly, that I think we found our friend. Then I heard him say shortly after. No, it wasn't great. Because he also had to call and report finding a body. Then another pause, and he said yeah. Then another pause. He said quietly. Looks like suicide, but foul py was always possible. Then another pause, and he apologized for contaminating his possible crime scene. Two people, we didn't know. It was dark. Another pause. Some directions. Then… okay, so you know the pce. We'll be here.

  While waiting? Lightning just sat, hummed, rocked, and whispered to Teddy Ball. She knew he was scared, it would be okay. She petted him gently to calm him down. Me and him? Went to look at what was now, almost certainly, her can she smoked out of, and her st artwork.

  He pointed out his interpretation.

  "See the tall woman? That's you. Tallest girl in the townhouse. See the spikes on the guys head? That's my crew cut. We're holding hands, smiling."

  "So, who's holding my other hand?"

  "Next tallest girl to you. That's Little Lightning. Your friend you take care of. And look. A little lightning bolt, on the dress."

  "Then, Right. She's right next to us. And that…"

  "Yeah. Self portrait. Off to the side. Alone. We're all bright happy colors. Yellow and orange. Sunny colors. We're all smiling. She's all dark colors. She's sad, and dark."

  It dawned on me. Right before she had left? What had I done. I started to stammer about it. He told me no, don't do that. I couldn't have known. Told me not to beat myself up about it. His phone rang. He walked over and talked a short bit, then hung up.

  "That was our cop from back home. He wanted to let me know. She took the bus. To the city."

  I sat next to Little Lightning. I couldn't stop crying. She handed me Teddy Ball. She just sat there, rocking and humming. Her chin on her drawn up knees. Like a 14 year old girl would probably do.

  "I told Teddy Ball, to help me find Moody. He did…"

  "He sure did, Light. He's the best, isn't he?"

  "Yep."

  "You want Teddy back now?"

  "He'll help you stop crying."

  "I don't know if he can do that for me."

  Lightning put her ear to Teddy Ball.

  "What did he say, Light?"

  "He said it's not your fault."

  "I hope he's right."

  "Well. He's never been wrong, yet."

  Two uniformed police officers came in after a little bit. Wiz went over to talk to them. They spoke quietly. He pointed. They all three walked over. He spoke quietly to both of them.

  "You really don't wanna go in there. Just take my word for it."

  They looked at each other. They could hear the buzzing of the flies. One said the detective was on his way. The detective took one look at Lightning, and spoke quietly.

  "That girl is in shock."

  I was finally done crying. For now.

  "We'll take care of her."

  "Did she… who…"

  I looked up at him and nodded yes. He knew she had seen her.

  "Christ."

  "Yeah. She's with him now."

  "Anyone else? Did you…"

  "He stopped me. I'm gd he did. Or I'd be like her."

  "Did he…"

  "Her first. Then… him."

  "Is he… okay?"

  "He can talk."

  "All right."

  He took out a little penlight, and peeked in.

  "How did you find this pce."

  He expined, everything.

  "Well. I'm waiting on the phone. Probably is hers then."

  "Okay. She's in there. How does her phone get…"

  "Honest? Someone found it. Probably. Ten bucks, is ten bucks. Addict? I'll get the security camera footage. Even if I can locate them, I don't expect anything. Without something… unexpected? I probably wouldn't even charge them."

  He brought him over, and showed him the chair, the drag marks. Over to what was certain to be her st artwork.

  "Art student. Finger painting. Nice."

  "Uh, its called Practical Art. That's her major. She… schorship. Great soccer pyer. If that expins the art csses."

  "Oh. Gotta major in something, I guess."

  "Yeah. And… she did a lot of… its probably not finger painting. She did… toe painting. We, uh. We almost left. Without…"

  "The girl in shock. She…"

  "Yeah."

  "Then you."

  "She freaked. I had to go see what was in there. She couldn't talk."

  "All right. I gotta go look some more. Not a fun part of my job."

  The detective's voice commented periodically, sounding hollow coming from within the dark cement tomb.

  "Hey. Bare feet. I'm guessing you were right about the… toe painting. Looks like it could be paint."

  "Looks like. Used a 55 gallon drum. Then… rolled it over."

  "Uh. Extension cord. First gnce? Self ligature."

  You could hear him snap gloves on.

  "Well. Let's see if anyone rifled her pockets. Someone got the phone…"

  "Some cash. Driver's license. Some IDs. Keys. They usually leave a note."

  "Here's a piece of paper…"

  He came out and unfolded it carefully, handling it with the gloves on by the corners.

  "Is there a person named… Hurry? Spelled like hurry up."

  "Yeah. One of the girls in the townhouse? Nicknamed Hurry."

  He didn't blow me in, tell him she was here.

  "Says… tell Hurry, not to worry. Its not her fault. I miss dad. I want to go be with him. Believe it or not. Even though I never told you guys, I loved you all. Don't be sad. I just couldn't do it anymore. PS. You guys can have all my stuff. I can't use it where I'm going. Maybe we can all py one day in heaven. So, bury my ball with me. If they even let you do that."

  "I guess you have to keep that."

  "Yeah. Sorry. You… take pictures?"

  "All right."

  "I never know. But. I'll call you. If they release her effects. I know this is gonna sound bad, but. I need statements. You understand, but… expin it to them. I'm not being a dick."

  Light patted my shoulder.

  "Told you, sis. Teddy Ball is always right. He knew."

  "Yeah. Teddy's pretty great, isn't he."

  "Yep. The best."

  "Man. Is she going to be okay…"

  "We'll take care of her. We always do. As you can see? You might not get the best statement out of her. She'll be talking to you, through Teddy Ball."

  "I guess the ball. Named Teddy?"

  "Yeah. Teddy? He's the greatest."

  "I bet. Can… she's gotta… talk to someone."

  "Do you really want a statement, from a soccer ball? I'm trying to help you out here. And… I'm thinking of her…"

  "Oh. I didn't mean, that. I meant. She… needs to talk to someone…"

  "Oh. She… has someone."

  "All right. Then, you found her. I'll take your statement. You're… coherent."

  "I am."

  "Your girl. She didn't see?"

  "No. Thank god. Or I'd have both of them talking through Teddy Ball."

  "Yeah. I'm gonna call this one, as no foul py. That's off the top of my head. Get the b boys down here. That's standard. If I find anything… off? I'll call you. But, I need that statement."

  "No problem. And thanks."

  "I'm sorry…"

  "No. You told us how to find her. You were right on the money."

  "I guess its better than wondering forever. Maybe."

  "I guess."

  We went down to the station. Lightning was a curiosity. He expined she was in shock. She was introducing Teddy Ball to the uniformed officers. Everyone smiled and nodded politely. I sat with my arm around her, and we talked to Teddy. He made the statement. He drove my car back for us. Lightning didn't have much use for a drivers license, and was out of it even if she did. I was prone to cry suddenly, probably not the best thing in heavy and unfamiliar traffic. He stopped into the police station briefly, to thank the officer that went out of his way to help us. He didn't have to do that. Pretty sure he told him, but I wasn't in there.

  When we got home, he took me aside. Said we should move her stuff. I looked at him, I figured that could wait. No, he said. Her stuff? Oh… someone might come sniffing around, like a cop. Her… big bag of stuff? Had no bearing on anything, no sense in having all that come out. There was a lot more than we thought. The big bag, the one we could pinch out of and it didn't even put a dent in it, anytime we all felt like it? Was the little one as it turned out. He found the main one in her closet. He got a big pstic tote. Taped it shut. Went out and said he'd bury it, until it was all over.

  He left a little bit, so… any cops would smell something, and see it. Just not oodles of it. The detective said he would handle contacting the mother. We could tell… whoever else would want or need to know. I told him, when he wanted to. We'll move her stuff to a cage and lock it up. Her mom might want it. Maybe another retive. I doubt someone that young had a will, but you never know. One day soon, I pnned on looking through all of her artwork. Just not now.

  I had him go up to Lida's and see if Right was there. He came back with her, and we expined it to her. Well, he did. I concentrated on Lightning.

  Tomorrow, I'll get the coach. He can tell the team, I guess. I always thought her dad was divorced from the mom. I didn't know he died. Well, I still don't know it, but based on her suicide note in her pocket and all. Seems like a safe bet. Maybe that's why the mom was half a barfly. I hate her mom less now. At least she had an excuse.

  He told me, that when someone really intends to kill themselves? There's absolutely nothing you can do about it, if they're serious. I asked him though, why in the hell would you go off, and kill yourself around strangers? Why not… then he spoke quietly. She said in the note. Believe it or not, I actually loved you guys. She cared. She didn't want Lightning finding her, or one of you guys. She… spared you that. She figured the note would get back to you. And she did care. She told you, in no uncertain terms. Don't bme yourself, it wasn't your fault. She knew you'd think back to arguing, and… she wanted you to know. She misses her dad, and she can't take another year of it. If she didn't like you? She could… punish you, in a way, by letting you think it might have been you arguing with her. Or, letting one of you find her.

  She was a great center, but… starting to just go through the motions. I thought she was just selfish, and wanted an easy ride. Milkmaid syndrome. No, she was trying her best. Just couldn't do it any more. She had "paper cuts", from when she was younger. I guess that was after her dad died. She hadn't pnned this for a long time. She had a huge stash, she was set for all year to sell it. You don't pn for all year, when you know you're doing this. It wasn't any real spur of the moment decision. She thought about it. Pnned it. Bus ride, time spent… partying with strangers? Why, who knows.

  She didn't pn on us finding her, she'd let strangers find her, that was her pn. Word would slowly make it back to us. Less painful on us that way, I suppose was how she had it figured out. Hard to believe she actually said she loved us all, and we would all meet in heaven, and py together again one day. And bury me with my ball, if they let you. I guess in a way, she was like Little Lightning. Pying ball at this level? Was all she really had that she cared about.

  People lose close loved ones, and don't do this. So, she had other issues. She was always frowning. More or less, bad moods and mood swings were her typical day to day. I always thought her… toe painting was, well. Kind of silly. But she left a st one. Me, him, the other two… all happy, mostly all holding hands. Bright, sunny colors. Then her. Off to the side. Dark colors. Sad face. I thought I had to worry most about Lightning. Turns out it was her I had to watch the most, and I didn't even know.

  I do know, that she was the center, the big freshman star. Until Little Lightning and Right came as a matched bookend set. Lightning stole her thunder? Corny pun, but its true. I guess like any troubled kid, she wanted bad attention if that's what she thought she could get. She was important though. The starting center? One of the most important members of the team. She was a damned good solid pyer for her job. I can see why she drank a lot, and liked getting the other girls to accompany her to the bar at all hours as much as possible. She desperately wanted friends, and the company.

  I feel like I didn't try hard enough. Like, what good are psychology csses, if you can't see something like this coming. I feel guilty. Me and the coach, wondering how long she would keep herself together, and we were looking for a possible backup for her. We all called her Sunshine. Because of her oh so sunny disposition. Here, she was Little Miss Moody. Another fun name for her, describing her moods. Hell, I'm the coach's adult, the den mother. I was supposed to keep an eye on his young starting front line. I really dropped the ball on that one.

  I tried talking to her a lot, it just never worked. You kept trying to really like her, and just when you were starting to? She would sh out. Or act up or act out. Like… she almost didn't want close friends. Maybe she knew this was going to be her way out eventually, so she didn't want anyone close enough to be truly crushed by this. Makes sense. She spared us finding her, she took care to make the note. Absolved us of all guilt, tell us it was her missing her dead dad. Wow. And she actually loved us. We never knew. She could have told us? Well, I guess she did.

  There's nothing more final, than a suicide note. You can at least count on whatever they say? Its the truth as they see it. No reason to lie, if you're about to die, right? She had told me art isn't necessarily about it being great, its simply being able to express emotions. Her emotions? She saw us as all happy and together here, and her off to the side, sad and alone. I can hear it now, pin as day. My dad went away, he left me and my mom. Thought he ran off. Nope. He left the other way. I sure do miss my dad. I hope I meet him someday soon. In hindsight? She didn't want us to know he died, didn't want everyone fawning all over her. But now, in hindsight? It was clear as a bell, just coded. My dad's dead, I can't wait to die.

  I wonder about the mom. Husband died. Now, the daughter killed herself. She'll either drink herself to death, or maybe take the more direct route. Things like depression and suicide, tend to run father to son, mother to daughter. Odds are bad on that one. So, she spoke in a kind of code about things. Maybe I'll meet my dad soon. And yeah, she'd kind of look off and say things like that. Little half smirk. Lightning was on a kick, asking all of us what we'd be for Halloween if she could get all of us to do Wizard of Oz with her. Lightning kept bugging her, she finally said it. Again? Looking off, smirking. Code.

  I don't know, Light. Has to suit me, right? Sure, Lightning said. Well Light? I guess someone has to go as the wicked witch. Paint myself all green. She's jealous of Dorothy and her magic slippers. Hell, you can drop a house on me, make it look real. She was saying it in code. I'm jealous of you, Lightning. Green with envy. Magic slippers? Magic spikes. You could drop a house on me. The wicked witch dies in the movie. I look at her art now? Childish, but… pin as day. She was all dark colors, child's frown face. Art is you show your emotions. She saw everyone else as happy, and she was alone and sad.

  Oh god, how long will it take to stop crying? I don't know. She went away to do it. She wanted it to be a while, we would just think she slipped off and left. Then, it would be painless. We'd eventually get the memo. Hey, here's the note. Loved you guys, not your fault. Miss dad. Bye. She wanted it to take longer to be discovered. She found an out of the way pce, and went back in that little storage area. Even went through the trouble of closing that heavy rusted door. On a practical side of things? Taking long enough, in summer like that… would guarantee a closed casket. She really was looking out for us. She wanted it to be as painless as possible for us. Everyone staring at her in a casket, would be worse.

  Guys? You can have all my stuff. I can't use it where I'm going. None of us would want her clothes. A few CDs, a few DVDs, a few books. She had nothing major. No big screen TV anyone would want, no great stereo equipment. What did she figure we would want… she's speaking in code again. I actually loved you guys, believe it or not. I want you to have all my stuff, I can't use it.

  She wanted us to have her gigantic stash. Oh god, here I go again. She wanted to give us all a big present. You take everything in that room? Not much of any real value… except that, easy. Only big ticket item.

  She was depressed, bad. Alcohol is the normal thing. Like her mom was doing. She could drink on the weekends, off season. But… you can't drink heavy and py well. So? She smoked. It was her attitude adjuster. That's what she called it. She knew she was depressed, and sad, and mad, jealous of happy people, and had mood swings. She knew she couldn't help it, and just wanted attention.

  Why is this stuff so easy to see when its too te, and its all over? Why can't you piece the clues together when you can still help? Well. Couldn't we have cared more, went to the cops earlier? Maybe we could have… hell, early enough? We'd have ended up right where she did it. We'd have seen her running around with art people. Well? Maybe not. She's still calling or texting, more days, more days. We're fine. Its when you realize there's no more answering the phone or texting back that worries you. That was the phone found and got sold and wiped. She's already dead by that time.

  Depression. She had trouble sleeping. Even without drinking, she just stayed up te. One of those four hours a night people. Four hours, if she needed it or not, was her joke. She wouldn't eat much sometimes. Pick at her food, move it around her pte. So? She'd smoke to get her appetite going.

  She wasn't all bad. She could be fun to have around. She was heavy on sarcasm. Which made for a really grim gallows humor. She could have just told us, the umpteenth time there was some house issue. Look guys, I actually like you guys. Love you all, really. My dad died, my mom's out of it… I get bad moods and I can't help it. I don't mean to be like this. We could have been a lot more understanding, and it would have made it a lot easier to overlook it.

  Not cleaning, throwing used condoms around. Bad depression? They don't like cleaning, they don't care. We teased her and made fun of her for it. We were poking fun at her depression symptoms. She didn't bath every day, either. Not caring about your appearance and hygiene is another cssic depression sign.

  I got him alone, and asked what Lightning would have seen. How bad? I would be dealing with it, I figured. He spoke in roundabout terms. You wouldn't recognize her. Clothes and the green streak in her hair, let you know who it was more than how she looked. I wanted to know, and… he finally took me aside. If I had to know? He said, look. I want you to imagine… bad roadkill. Deer. Summer? Flies? He said you couldn't recognize her. They swell up. Lightning saw that. Up close. Poor thing. Well, Moody had tried to spare us that, hadn't she? She took great pains for it to take a while for us to get the memo. Christ. Light is going to eventually try to describe it to me. She's going to have nightmares, and fshbacks, and probably a dose of some kind of PTSD sort of thing. Teddy Ball really is the greatest? But he has limits.

  Still? Teddy Ball is uncanny. Come on Teddy, help me find Moody. You can do it. You know I need my center. I'll be damned if the soccer ball didn't find her, too. Teddy even told her, to tell me. Hurry? Its not your fault. Teddy, says so. Damn it if the note didn't come out right on cue, and the first line absolved me of all guilt.

  Now I'm getting jealous of Lightning. Why can't I have a damn Teddy Ball that tells me exactly what I need to know, right before I need to know it. Wow. Lightning really does love me. She gave me her Teddy Ball. Here, he can help you stop crying. That damn soccer ball? Changed her life, it was her only friend for four long years. He made her tough and strong, and allowed her to finally take revenge on her mother, the way she had abused her all those years. Teddy is her favorite thing in her life, her most cherished 14 year old's possession. She gave him to me, and she keeps coming and giving him to me, when I can't stop crying.

  I'm sharing the most important person in my life with her, and she's doing it right back. My god, she's actually a lot tougher than I ever imagined. She saw that, up close. I didn't have to see it at all. And she's quickly giving me Teddy Ball. So he can help me stop crying.

  Aw, Christ almighty. The damn athletic director. He'll get another one of his consultants, they'll have another focus group on this. I can see that shit show now. Some goddamn grief counselor is going to come in, and assemble the whole team together. Going to be some whiny pain in the ass type. Speaking in bumper stickers and slogans, like all these lightweights do. Oh good god, please no. I can see it, pin as day.

  "Well, see, this is real bad. Now, this is the hurt locker. We put all the bad things, into our hurt locker in our mind? And we leave them there. That's what we do. Your friend was hurting, real bad. Inside."

  No shit dy, stick the fucking hurt locker up your ass, would you? Maybe I can get the football coach to come in, and kick the grief professional out, and blow his whistle and say something that really matters. He's the only person that for some reason, can tell the athletic director he's an idiot. Then, he handles it for free. Without wasting 60 grand on stupid shit.

  Christ. She obeyed the football coach's grim request. If any of you stupid assholes wants to kill themselves in a retarded way, like sticking drugs up your ass? Get the hell off campus, go far away, and don't bring the problem to the program.

  Sweet Christ? She went far enough away, and took care to make it so we'd just get the memo much ter. I guess him and her shared some kind of sarcastic gallows humor. They were on a wavelength. I doubt he'd be the right person to go to, with such a problem. He was never known for his tact, among all his other gifts. Maybe he could have helped. He'd probably look at her, and say it outright.

  "Well. You miss your dad died. I get that, little girl. But, the hell does killing yourself do? How does fucking the team over, solve it? It doesn't. Your toilet's fucked. We get you a plumber."

  I'm crying, ying face down on the bed again. He's just sitting in the chair, can't really help me. He knows I feel guilt and shame, from not being able to help. And I'm the den mother. I'm supposed to save the front line for the coach to start the season with. Best one he's had in years. I did the absolutely wrong thing a mother can do. I concentrated on my good, smart kid? Figuring she was worth it. I ignored my bad kid, who as it turned out… needed the help more.

  I feel hands on mine. My head is being lifted up. Its Little Lightning. She's putting Teddy Ball into my arms, and putting my head down on him. Then, she pats my head and walks out without saying a word. All right, I'll try the Teddy Ball. He knows everything else.