Bats in the Belfry Page 6

  He tilted his head. “Oh, now she realizes that she doesn’t know the name of the guy she’s going to fall in love with,” he said with a coy grin.

  Lane blushed looking away for a minute before staring back. “Why do you keep saying that? It’s not even funny anymore,” she said exasperated.

  “Because I can see the future Lane Bennett and it wasn’t meant to be funny,” he said with a deadpan expression.

  “I think I know why you’re in here now.”

  A slow intrigued smile spread across his lips. “You do, do you?”

  She nodded. “It’s becoming quite clear—”

  “Cole,” he interjected.

  “Cole that you’re crazy and you do belong here.”

  His eyes squinted not the least bit offended, before leaning back to make himself comfortable. “Why are you here on a Saturday anyway? It’s not one of your regular days,” he asked brushing her statement aside.

  She sighed and debated with herself on whether or not to answer. Giving in she puffed. “I had to do a lot of shuffling around lately since I started this new job. Before I didn’t work on Wednesday and Friday mornings, but now I work eight hours a day five days a week, so today was all I had.”

  “So, did you get to see him today?” he asked.

  She sighed. “Yeah, for twenty minutes. We had a short conversation, the same argument then he went off with…" She waved her hand around. "someone of another. A Charles I think it was.”

  Cole chuckled. “Your dad has more imaginary friends than half the people in here.”

  “Tell me about it,” she huffed leaning back. “Funny thing is I think his friends…” she said making air quotes, “make him saner than us real people.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I mean, before they came along, he was always stressed and yelling and angry with everyone around him. He hardly communicated besides a simple good morning or good night. Now he’s calmer when he’s not angry with me and he smiles when he’s talking to them. I don’t know, maybe he likes being this way. That’s why he doesn’t want them to go away. That’s why he won’t take the medication.”

  “Wanna know what I think?”

  She nodded glancing at him. “Might as well since you're gonna say it anyway.”

  “I think it’s just easier for him to be this way. He doesn’t really have a care in the world now that he’s here. He doesn’t have to go to work every day or stress about paying bills. If he wanted, he doesn’t even need to wipe his own ass. He has people to do all that and without taking those pills he stays in that comfort,” he explained.

  “Is that why you’re here, because you’re lazy.”

  He chuckled. “I wish I could say that, but no. I’m here because I needed help and this was the best place for me to get it.”

  “But you don’t act like one of them.” Lane pointed to a man currently jumping and spinning in circles while trying to catch whatever he was seeing in the sky.

  “Yeah, well maybe I’m better. It has been months after all.”

  “How many?”

  “Nine.”

  “Wow, are you ever planning on leaving?”

  He placed both hands behind his head and crossed his legs out in front of him like he was on a lounge chair catching some rays. “I don’t know. I do have a pretty sweet set up in here. Nice warm bed, three meals a day and I get to go outside to work on my tan.”

  “You just described jail.”

  “I did, didn’t I? Well maybe I am as lazy as your dad.”

  “And I’m calling bull shit.”

  He laughed out giving Lane even more butterflies in her stomach. Every time he did that he reminded her of Scott for some reason. “You calling me out Lanie?” She liked that he called her Lanie. It felt good coming from someone other than her dad, and it felt as if he was honest about how he felt.

  “I am. The only people who want to be in here are running from something, hiding from someone or are really crazy and is being held against their will.”

  He gazed at her, long and hard before his eyes moved to her hair. Her hair was braided again, draped over her left shoulder like a shield. He remembered how beautiful she was, and watched how equally beautiful she had become over the years. To him it felt like no time had passed and they were the same two kids who relied on each other’s company to make it through each day. She was the one who had been there when he felt at his lowest, and needed someone to understand his feelings. She understood even when he didn’t. She cared.

  Without realizing it, his hand was moving toward her hair ready to pull the braid apart. “Has your hair always been this red?” He already knew the answer, but wanted to hear her voice as she got nervous. It always went an octave lower, and she mumbled her words which he thought was cute. His hand reached her hair making her look down at his fingers when they moved through the strands pulling the braid apart.

  “My—a— grandmother’s hair was red it— skipped a generation and landed on me," she mumbled as he knew she would.

  “It’s beautiful, you shouldn’t be scared to let it down sometimes.”

  “Who said I’m scared?” she whispered. She never wore her hair down, because she hated the color. Whenever she tied it up, she forgot about her dislike for it all together.

  She watched him carefully while he continued pulling the braid apart little by little until the hair fell loose against her shoulders. The breeze blew at that moment, and hair moved across his face making him inhale the scent of her coconut shampoo. “Beautiful,” he whispered, this time his hand moved along her cheek toward the curve of her neck. She froze, as sparks rippled through her body from his finger tips. She was nervous, and wanted to get away, but she also liked everything about this moment between them. It was as if they were connected in some special way, and they both knew it.

  “Come by tomorrow. I want to take you somewhere.”

  ***

  After leaving Cole, she found herself sitting in class watching as strands of hair fell onto the open pages of her notebook. She always thought that her hair was a curse after it was constantly drilled into her head by her crazy grandmother. Even though Lane and her brother were twins, his hair was more brown like their fathers, while she took after their grandmother on her mother’s side. Her mother was white and carried blonde hair, but her mother's hair was bright red like fire.

  Her father’s mother, (the crazy one,) always said that only evil girls were born with hair like hers. Unlike the normal reds, pinks, maroons or burgundies, Lane’s hair was in a category on its own. It was more like the color blood turned when it dried, which couldn’t be achieved with a simple dye job by even the best hairstylist.

  Every time her father made her and her brother visit the old woman, Lane would wear a hat, not wanting the old bat to see the red strands beneath, because if she did, she would have pulled out her old black rosary, wrapped it around her wrinkly old fingers, and start praying for Lane's soul like it was already condemned. Unfortunately, the old woman died from a heart attack that Lane had absolutely nothing to do with, but still she kept thinking that it was her fault somehow, since they were there for a visit when it happened.

  “Alright class, you now have the keys to ace your exam, so study hard and I’ll see you next week prepared to give out all A’s,” professor Rowlings joked while soft chuckles moved between the seats. One by one everyone started filing out, before Lane packed up her books and grabbed her bag, heading down toward the door at the bottom of the stairs.

  Walking through the quad there were hardly any students around since it was Saturday, and the majority of the classes were on weekdays. Lane walked briskly, pulling her jacket closed as a group of girls standing by the fountain near fraternity row, all turned in her direction. One of them was Britney.

  Britney and Lane had a very long history, dating back to the middle school when they were each other’s best friends and neighbors. Her dad and Lane’s dad were friends, her brother's Josh and Jak
e were very friendly, and she and Lane were as thick as thieves. They did everything together from riding bikes around the neighborhood to dying the neighbor’s dog pink one summer by accident. They even had the same crush on Michael Callahan freshman year of high school.

  When they both turned twelve, Britney’s father by some miracle won the national lottery making them thirty million dollars richer. Eventually everything to Britney became about designer this and designer that, and she was too good to ride bikes with poor old Lanie anymore. Eventually their family moved from the poor avenue to rich boulevard five streets over behind a high wire electric fence with twenty-four-hour security, and she and Lane were no longer friends.

  Now here she was standing with her minions looking at Lane like she borrowed her favorite pair of Jimmy Choo’s and forgot to return them. “Well look who it is girls, just the person I wanted to see,” Britney said as she sneered down at Lane. Her six-inch heels were the only reason she liked to think she was taller than Lane. Without them, they were both the same height.

  Lake halted. “Britney, what’s this about?”

  Britney cynically smiled then moved to stand directly in front of Lane, just close enough that they were almost nose to nose. Her eyes went from Lane’s plain white converse up to her unmade face. “You remember my boyfriend, Dillon right. The cute English guy with the tattoos that you had that stupid little crush on freshman year. You remember him, don’t you Lane?”

  “You know he was my neighbor for four years, Britney and my friend. So where exactly is this going?”

  “You see Kizze here…” she pointed to the brunette on her left giving Lane the stink eye as all the others were. “was at The Bar three Friday’s ago and she saw you leave with Dillon. She said right before that you were making out with him by the bathrooms. So, I know that you left with him. Care to explain why a skank like you had your hands on my boyfriend?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dillon and I have always been just friends. I don’t know what you saw Kizze, but it wasn’t me,” she explained confused. That night at The Bar she remembered leaving and going straight home alone afterward, or at least she thought that was what happened. There was a hole as usual, with missing pieces, but for sure she knew Dillon wasn't that missing piece.

  “Oh, and I sooooo believe you Lane. You know you try to make everyone believe you’re just this innocent little girl, but deep down you’re just this bitch trying to take what’s mine. Admit it Lane you’ve always wanted what was mine, you’ve always wanted to be me. You knew Dillon was mine and you just had to go after him, just like Connor, so admit it, admit what you did—”

  Lane blinked hard before her head snapped and eyes glared at her. “You know what bitch I am so tired of hearing you talk,” Olivia said. It was about time Lane let her defend herself, she thought, and she couldn't wait to take a chunk out of silicone Barbie.

  “You want to know the truth, Britney. I took Connor because he begged me too, after all you were the worst fuck he’s ever had, and Dillon was no different. He screamed my name and then begged me to stay, so don’t blame me for your lack of skill in the sack that have your boyfriends crawling in my direction,” Olivia said obnoxiously with a pointed stare before smirking at her.

  It was true, senior year of high school Olivia did sleep with her then boyfriend Connor because he came crying to her one night drunk off his ass and talking about what a terrible fuck she was; so, she slept with him to shut him up. That was not a crime. It was not like she took him away from her, he went back the next day.

  Britney looked about ready to explode, or punch her in the face, but Olivia knew she didn’t have the guts. Hell, the girl freaked out if one strand of hair was remotely out of place, she doubted she’d break a nail trying to knock her out. “You fucking bitch, I always knew you were a whore,” she screamed turning red and clenching her fists at her sides.

  Olivia smiled, and leaned in closer so only she could hear what she was about to say. “That’s right I’m the whore. No wait.” Craning her neck, she whispered. “I wasn’t the one that blew those two guys at the Omega Ki party two years ago, now was I.” Leaning back Lane looked at her eyes which were wide with fear before one started twitching. In a sing song voice, she continued hoping Britney fully understood what she was about to say. “You thought no one saw you, but I was in the bathroom the whole time having a little party of my own with that guy you thought you liked, and his stash of weed. Let me tell you, that was such good weed that I almost didn’t notice what a doting little girlfriend you were when you were too busy deep throating those guys in the other room. Next time you decide to cross Lane, think about where that video might end up. Poor daddy will see just how giving his little girl really is, and I’ll make sure of it. See you around… best friend.” Tapping her shoulder, Olivia walked away leaving her with a gaping mouth and an embarrassed expression.

  That night at the party, Olivia remembered recording the video through the crack in the door, but lost that phone right after she left the party in a drunken haze somewhere in the parking lot before blacking out. So, she really had no clue where that video ended up, or if she had even saved it. She didn’t care though; it was Britney’s own fault for being so damn vocal. She really was a bad fuck.

  Laughing to herself, she continued across the grass, but didn’t notice Kyle before it was too late and they both collided with each other. The books in his hand fell to the ground and so did her backpack. “Shit, sorry about that Lane. Didn’t’ see you there.”

  “Hey, Kyle it’s okay. Need some help?” she said after retrieving her bag and placing it on her shoulder.

  “Na, I’m cool thanks though.” As he left, Lane turned to find Britney and her friends headed toward the Kappa house on the far side of the quad. With a shrug, she figured Britney must have realized she was telling the truth, and it was all a misunderstanding. Lane didn’t understand why the girl kept thinking Dillon was her boyfriend though, considering the guy didn’t consider anyone his girlfriend, let alone her. She knew better than anyone since she lived next to him, and heard almost every girl he bought home screaming his name through the walls. None of them were Britney.

  She was delusional.

  Eight

  “Lane darling, what are you doing here?” Martha asked when Lane walked in early Sunday morning. She had been asking herself that same question since she woke up this morning, with the thought dancing in her head. What she came up with by the time she arrived, was sheer curiosity.

  “Morning Martha. I came to see my dad since I may not have much time to come visit him next week. Is he around?”

  “Yep in the social room playing cards with Marvin.”

  “Is Marvin a real person?” she asked skeptically as Martha laughed.

  “Yes, he’s alive and well and totally beating the crap out of your dad. He’s down two tic tacs as we speak.”

  “Good, in that case I’ll see you on my way out.” She walked into the social room, and found her father talking and laughing with another middle-aged man before smacking his cards on the table between them. Her father laughed out, and when he looked up and saw her, he smiled, quickly rising from his chair.

  They hugged. “Lanie what are you doing here?”

  “Hey, dad was in the area and thought I’d stop by. What’s going on?”

  “Oh, just a nice game of poker between friends.” Marvin vacated the table leaving them alone. “Come come sit, tell me what’s been going on.” For the first time in six months she saw her old father sitting before her. The man who laughed at his own corny jokes, and sang along with the car radio to cheer her up. She missed that dad, and seeing him like this made her realize just how much.

  “I’m glad you’re finally smiling again, dad. You look happy.” She squeezed his hand across the table.

  “I am happy you’re here. It’s been a long time.”

  She smiled and shook her head. Sometimes she thought her dad had Alzheimer’s with the
way he forgot simple things. “Dad I was here just yesterday. Don’t you remember our little talk?”

  He stopped looking perplexed. “I… must have missed you. I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

  Okay she thought, maybe he wasn’t as fine as he looked. “I’m sorry I haven’t been by to see you. My new job keeps me a lot busier these days.”

  “It’s okay, you’re here now and you got a new job that’s great honey.”

  “It is dad. It really is. So anyway, I bought you this.” Pulling the new white album from her bag, she pushed it across the table. His fingers danced across the word memories on the front before a smile stole his lips. “It’s all your old pictures from the green photo album you kept in your bed side table. The case was a mess so I bought a new one to put the pictures in, thought you might want it.”

  Turning to the first page he looked over the first four pictures with glossy eyes before turning to the next, stopping to glance at Lane. “That’s you bug,” he whispered moving his hand across his mouth.

  “Yep, that’s me and you remember when we took that?” In the picture she was nine. She and Steven were both wearing sunglasses while he held her up in his arms in front of the camera at Cora’s Bay. She was smiling, hugging his neck as he kissed her cheek smiling back. As she thought back on that age, she remembered right after that picture was taken, the beginning signs of his illness were starting to become prominent. Thinking about his sanity that day when she switched the pictures, she remembered flipping through the years, and thinking that he had never really been sane. There has always been something, from a twitch here to a whisper there, to him acting a little strange every now and then. So many indications that he was unwell, and Lane ignored them, chalking it up to too much stress from work, or not enough sleep when all in all he just wasn’t right.