Protectors

-- I read a story about two parents going after the person they believed murdered their child--the child's spouse. Their grandchild sided with the remaining parent. And part of me felt disdain for the grandparents, because in my mind, the damage was done. Putting away the spouse, even if they were the murderer, was only going to hurt the grown-up child more. But then I got curious. I wanted to know what it must be like to feel like you have to get justice for one person you love, at the expense of another. --

“Protectors”

She asks him to let it go
She asks him everyday
Sometimes through tears
Sometimes through clenched teeth
In anger
In desperation
She asks him
And he stays quiet

Dylan won’t call
He won’t speak to them
Until they agree to stop
Until they agree to end it
To stop talking to the press
To stop demanding that is mother
Be prosecuted for what they believe
For what they BOTH believe she did

To their son
To his father
Two different kinds of ownership
Two different views on what should be done
Their grandson asks them
He asks them to let it go
Maggie says fine
Bill doesn’t know
If he can

. . . . .

She thought he was an intruder
That was her claim
They lived in a good neighborhood
Never had a break-in
But they had a gun anyway
Just in case
And she knew that

Ryan was supposed to be away on business
He came home early
Did she know he was coming home early?
She said she didn’t
But Gina was a good liar
That’s what Bill always thought
Maggie did too
But she kept her mouth shut about it

She was their only son’s wife
She was the mother of their grandchild
They kept their opinions to themselves
Even when Ryan started telling them his fears
About affairs
About debts racking up
About volatile behavior
He said he didn’t love Gina anymore
They told him all marriages had problems

She was the reason Dylan never came over
She hated that he was so close to Maggie and Bill
Bill would try to talk to Ryan about it
But Ryan wouldn’t cross Gina
So Dylan came over once in awhile
But that was it

He came home early
She thought he was a burglar
Dylan was sleeping in bed
The call came at three in the morning

. . . . .

They had pushed for a trial
For a deeper investigation
Gina had been screwing around
With someone at City Hall
Everybody knew that
That’s why there hadn’t been a trial

They had gone on television
But so had Gina
She had painted them to be
Two old ornery grumps
With nothing better to do
Than go after a grieving widow
A widow who had made a mistake

Dylan was too young
To say anything about all of it
Maggie and Bill had fought for custody
And lost

And that was that

. . . . .

She let them keep seeing him
Maybe to save face
But maybe because she needed
A free baby-sitter
While she went out and partied
Like a widow should, Bill thought

Bill would ask him what he remembered
Until Maggie yelled at him
To leave the boy alone
Wasn’t it bad enough his father was gone?

But Bill would take him on walks
Where they would get ice cream
Or stop at the hot dog joint
And get two with everything

And he’d ask what Dylan remembered
Dylan would say ‘A noise’
But that’s all he would say

. . . . .

Twenty years later
New evidence
Paperwork filed incorrectly
A shoddy coroner’s report
Time of death
Phone call to the police
Something didn’t match

Twenty minutes

Twenty minutes
After their son was shot
Until the police were called
Until help came

And nobody seemed to care
Except Maggie and Bill

He went on the news that night
Demanding an investigation
There were new people in City Hall
Gina wouldn’t have any protectors
She was older now
Couldn’t flirt her way around town
And get away with murder
Not this time

Dylan had just finished college
He was living in an apartment
An hour away from them
But he’d still come over on Sundays
After he’d visited his mom
Maggie would make him dinner
And they’d all sit and talk
The past a thing that never left
But stayed in its own room
Never coming out to say hello

. . . . .

‘He wants us to leave it alone’

That’s what Maggie told him
But he couldn’t believe it
Twenty minutes
Didn’t Dylan understand twenty minutes?
Did she understand?

‘Of course, I understand
He was my son, too.
But he’s gone.
Dylan’s here.
Let it go.’

But Bill believed in ghosts
He didn’t believe that Ryan was gone
Not when his murderer was living free
He wouldn’t be gone
Until things were set right

Maggie believed crimes needed victims

‘Aren’t we victims?’

He asked her
And she threw a chair across the room
She always had a temper
But it had cooled in recent years
Except when she was talking about her son

‘It’s over’

She kept saying it
Stomping her foot
Banging her hand on the cupboards
Slamming the oven door
Open and shut
Open and shut
Open and shut

‘It’s over’

. . . . .

But Bill pursued
He called the news again
He called the papers
He made that headline stick

Twenty minutes
Twenty minutes
Twenty minutes

The sound of that open and shut
Gave way to a silence in his marriage
But he ignored it
He had a new purpose now
Gina going to prison
Going to the chair
That was his new matrimony

Gina fought back
She retold the same story
She had paraded out years before
But now things were different
She wasn’t pretty anymore
Nobody feels bad
For a run-down woman

Bill could feel his own outrage
Go slowly like water
Into the world
He felt the response building
And he knew
He knew he could win
This time
He could win

But Gina had her own weapon
She had Dylan

. . . . .

I don’t care
I don’t care about the twenty minutes
I don’t care if she baked a cake
In the twenty minutes
It was two decades ago
I want to move on with my life
Can’t you understand that?

She’s my mother
You’re my grandfather
I love you both
But if you pursue this
I will choose her
Do you get that?
I will choose my mother

And you know something?
You don’t get to say
You don’t get to say if she gets
Whatever
Investigated
I’m sorry that he was your son
I’m so sorry
That you lost your son
But he was my father
And that trumps him being your son
And if I want this to end
It’s going to end

Because you aren’t putting anybody in jail
If I get up on that stand
And tell everybody
That I don’t want my mother
Going to jail
That I don’t want to lose another parent
That my grandfather is senile
That he just hates people for no reason

I will do that
If you don’t stop this
Stop it
Now

. . . . .

Bill waited until Dylan was finished
And then he said—

‘Fuck you’

Maggie got in between them
But Bill put up his finger
And pointed it at his grandson

‘I was his protector
Just like he was yours
I was supposed to protect him
Because I was his father
You can’t understand that
Because you don’t have children
You don’t have a son
Come to me when you have a son
And you tell me what trumps what
You little shit
Your mother’s going to pay for what she did
And if you want to go down with her
That’s fine with me’

Dylan stormed out of the house
Maggie turned around
And slapped Bill across the face
Then she went after Dylan

Bill just kept mumbling

‘I was his protector
I was his protector
I was supposed to protect him’

Until he felt himself fall to the ground
His cheek still stinging
Knowing he had lost it all

. . . . .

Gina stopped by a few days later
Maggie had moved in with her sister
Dylan hadn’t called
Bill hadn’t moved from his chair
In over twelve hours

‘Do you know why I never let him come by?’

She was standing at the screen door
He didn’t get up
She waited a moment
And then opened it
Walked in
Sat on the couch across from him

‘Do you know why
Dylan never came over as much
Until Ryan was gone?’

She had turned everyone against him
She had destroyed his life
She—

‘He used to hit him, Bill.’

He leaned forward

‘He used to hit him.
Hard.’

. . . . .

Bruises
Big bruises
Some too big to hide

I would try to stop him
But he would shove me aside
It was like he hated Dylan
Oh, he hated me too
But he knew I had to go to work
People would see if I had a black eye
But Dylan he could cover up
Dylan he could hide

I wasn’t the one having affairs, Bill
That was him
I still loved him
Because I was an idiot
Until he started hurting my child
Then I started looking for a way out
But then he met someone
This woman at his office
She wanted them to run away together
And he was going to do it
He was going to take Dylan too
Because the bitch wanted a kid to raise
So he was going to take off with him

He even told me about it
Before his business trip
The only business being
Looking for an apartment
In another town
A few states from here
With Miss Classy

I started making plans to take off
I told Dylan what we had to do
I told him that we had to get away
But he didn’t believe we could do it
He thought Ryan would find us
That he’d catch us
And he didn’t want to leave you and Maggie either
He loved you so much

I almost called you
But why would you believe me?
I knew you hated me
Why would you take my side
Over your own son’s?
I didn’t know what to do
I was terrified

Then he came home

I heard the door open
And then I heard the gunshot
I ran into the living room
And Ryan was down on the floor
Dylan was standing there
This little boy
Holding a gun

He was in shock
He knew what he had done
But he couldn’t handle having done it
I grabbed the gun from him
And I screamed at him

‘What did you do?
What did you do?’

He wouldn’t answer me.

I took him into the bathroom
I scrubbed the gun clean as best I could
I put him in the tub.
I gave him a bath
I took his pajamas off
I threw them in the laundry
I put Dylan back to bed
And I called the police

The whole thing only took twenty minutes

Do you know how Dylan knew
Where we kept the gun?

Because Ryan showed him
He used to threaten him with it
Told him if he ever got too out of line
He’d…

“I’m your father.
You owe your life to me.
That means if I want to…
I can take it from you.”

That was your son, Bill
That was your son.

. . . . .

Bill looked down at the gravestone
He was sipping a beer
Staring at his son’s name
Maggie was waiting in the car

He remembered when Ryan would get out of hand
He was a hyper child
Nowadays they’d have diagnosed him
With something or other

Back then
The only diagnosis was problematic
And the cure was a slap across the face
Which Bill would administer
Especially when drunk

He never apologized for those times
And when Ryan died
He thought maybe he could make it up to him
All those years of fear
All those bruises
Every slap across the face

If he fought for him
If he fought to protect his son
Not realizing Gina was doing the same

He looked down at his son’s name
And wondered who was to blame
Bill’s father used to backhand him
Without even having a reason

Who could you go after?
Who could you investigate?
Who could you prosecute?

How far back would you have to go?

Bill got down on his knees
Which was tough
But he managed

He ran his hands across his son’s name
Their shared last name
And he knew he had failed
But it was like that feeling of water
That it was reaching out
To all corners and every side
And he wanted to stop it

But he didn’t know where that began
Or how far it stretched