Cruel Justice

32

“AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN ask him?”

“Well, we were getting along so well, I didn’t want to spoil everything. …”

“So you just let it go.”

“For the time being …”

Rachel Rutherford leaned sideways against the wet bar, a Bloody Mary crooked in her hand. “So let me get this straight. You saw a strange man talking to Abie on the street corner, apparently offering him a ride … and you didn’t even ask Abie who it was? What kind of miserable father are you?” She hurled her drink across the room; it shattered against a full-length mirror.

“I was trying to be a good father,” Hal Rutherford said defensively. What a crappy way to start the day this was. Barely out of their separate beds and already fighting. “That’s why I didn’t say anything. We were having a good time. Abie seemed to be responding to me. I didn’t want to spoil everything by turning the ball game into the Spanish Inquisition.”

“And what if this man shows up again, huh? What then?”

“Keep it down,” Rutherford said, waving his hands. “Abie’s probably awake. He might hear.”

Abie was, in fact, hearing every word. He had learned long ago that they didn’t realize how loud their voices were. And when he hunkered down next to the air vent in his bathroom, he could hear every word they said downstairs.

“I’m not going to let something horrible happen to my son, Hal. We went through too much hell to get him. I won’t let it all be for nothing.”

“Rachel, you’re exaggerating this situation wildly out of proportion.”

“How do you know?” She stood so close to him he could feel the alcoholic spray on his face. “Answer me that, Mr. Know-It-Fucking-All. How do you know?”

“If it will make you happy, I’ll go talk to Abie.” Rutherford sighed. He really hated to do it. They had actually had a pleasant time together, first at the ball game, then afterward at Baskin-Robbins. For the first time in months he felt like his family was on the road to recovery. Unless, of course, his wife destroyed all the goodwill he had created.

“Does it have to be, now? This instant?”

She glared at her husband. “What are you waiting for? Until it’s too late?”

“Fine. I’ll do it now. Bitch.” He trudged unhappily up the long winding staircase.

Abie, of course, heard him coming. He scrambled away from the vent and pretended to be emerging from the bathroom.

He met his father in the hall. “Hi, Dad. Wanna shoot some baskets?”

“Uh, no, son. Not right now. I need to … ask you some questions, okay?”

Abie tried to walk past him. “I’m not in the mood right now.”

Rutherford placed his hands firmly on his son’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, son. We can’t put this off any longer. Who was that man I saw you talking to when I drove up in your mother’s car?”

“What man?” Abie wasn’t exactly sure why, but for some reason, he didn’t want to tell his father about Sam. For one thing, Sam had asked him not to. Even beyond that, though … it seemed wrong, somehow. Besides, he was certain his father wouldn’t understand, and would probably make a big deal out of it. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Now, Abie, don’t be contrary. I saw you talking to him. Who was he?”

Abie twisted underneath his father’s grasp. “He’s just a friend, okay? So leave me alone.”

His father did not release him. “How did you meet this friend?”

“He helped me out one day, all right?” Abie shouted. “He saved me from two moron bullies from school.”

“Bullies? I didn’t hear anything about this. When was this?”

“What difference does it make? Sam was there when I needed him. Unlike you!”

Abie squirmed out from under his father’s hands and started to run, but his father grabbed his arm and jerked him back.

“Now, look here, son. You may not like it, but I’m your father, and when I ask you a question, I expect an answer.”

“Let me go!”

“Not until you tell me everything about this … Sam.”

“I won’t! I won’t tell you anything. I hate you!”

Like the first bolt from a gathering storm, a sudden rage swept through Rutherford’s body. It was everything working at once—Abie, Rachel, the booze—

He wasn’t sure what caused it, but suddenly he was consumed with an anger he could not contain. He reared his hand back and slapped Abie with all his might.

Abie’s head jerked backward. His head ached; he felt as if it might snap off his neck. It was a long moment before he felt sufficiently oriented to talk.

“I hate you!” he shouted, when he could. “I hate you and I always will.” With the same fury Rutherford had shown a moment before, Abie bent down and bit his father’s hand. His father cried out. Without wasting a second, Abie tore away from him and raced down the stairs.

He passed his mother as he bolted through the living room, but he didn’t stop to talk. He didn’t look back; he knew his father would be close behind him. He had seen the expression on his father’s face when he bit him. Abie knew that if his father got a hold of him now, something terrible would happen.

Abie raced out of the house and across the wide, well-trimmed front lawn. Just as he passed the tall hedge that lined the perimeter of their property, a familiar face emerged.

“Sam!” Abie shouted. He was so overwhelmed with relief and joy he could have cried. He ran up to the man and hugged his legs. “What are you doing here?”

“I was bringing you this.” He held up the boy’s blue book bag. “You left it in my car yesterday.” He crouched down to Abie’s level. “You look scared. Is something wrong?”

“It’s my dad. He already hit me once, and he’s trying to do it again. He’s gonna kill me!”

“Not if I can help it,” Sam said resolutely. “Come with me.”

Abie glanced over his shoulder. His father hadn’t come out of the house yet. Maybe Mom slowed him down. Still, there was no time to waste.

Abie eagerly took Sam’s hand. “Where are we going?”

“My car is parked just down the street. I’ll get you out of here.”

Together, they jogged down the street. “I sure am glad you were here,” Abie said breathlessly, once he was in the car. “You saved me from the bullies before. I should’ve known you’d save me again.”

The man smiled. “Just relax. I won’t let your father hurt you.”

Abie believed him. Hadn’t Sam always been there when he needed a friend? Unlike his father. “You’re the greatest.”

“Thanks. So are you.” The tall man snapped his fingers. “Hey. I know a really fun place we could go. What do you say?”

“Whatever you want,” Abie answered. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“That’s good to hear,” the man said, his eyes twinkling. “That’s very good indeed.”