102: Hosea

I held Donna, my stomach rolling. I hadn't felt like this for months. Not since... Fuck! Dad was on the phone and Mom held both Donna and me. I sat at the table and she fell into my lap hugging me fiercely.

"That son-of-a-bitch she's been dating beat her up. She's got broken ribs, arm, and nose. Brian, you have to come and help."

"What can I do, sweetheart? What can I do?" I already knew what I'd do. I'd go to Evansville and kill the bastard. I'd done it before. I could do it again. My stomach settled with my resolve.

"Come and bring her home."

"Donna, she doesn't want me. She's turned away from all of us. She doesn't want me around."

"Brian, you are the only one she hasn't turned away. Not completely," she whispered.

"What do you mean, honey?"

"When did you last hear from her?" Donna asked.

"In July. Just after we heard the news. She called to tell me ... to tell us she'd heard."

"She called you. Think, Brian. She hardly spoke to me all summer. She hasn't spoken to our father for months. She didn't call or speak to anyone else here. She called ... Brian, she called you."

"But she..."

"She has a tattoo, Brian." I should have been a rock. A rock feels no pain. My stomach clenched again. Her perfect beautiful skin.

"She can't. You have to be eighteen."

"She borrowed my car this summer and went to Kentucky."

"Doesn't make a difference. We checked. Nicki checked. Every state has the same law. No tattoos until you are eighteen."

"She borrowed my license, too. I didn't know."

"Why? Why would she ... why would she mutilate herself?"

"Brian, listen! The tattoo is on her foot. Right below her toes. It's just words."

"Her toes?" God! This hurt. "What does it say?"

"It says, 'No matter what, I know he still loves me.'"

It took several minutes before I realized that the piercing wail I heard that wouldn't shut up was coming from my mouth. I was being held from all sides. Mom, Anna, Donna, Rose. Dad was still on the phone, not quite shouting, but very intense. Mr. Duval and Mr. Davis were standing with him. I was hyperventilating. I didn't pass out. People seemed to be scurrying all over everyplace.

She believed me. Her last words to me had been 'God bless you, Brian. I love you.' Did she truly believe she had to be with the asshole who beat her? But she believed me. She believed I still loved her.

Did I?

What a stupid question. I'd do anything for her. Anything.

I took a deep breath and looked around the room. Mom was still holding both Donna and me from one side and Anna from the other. Dad hung up the phone.

"Mom, Dad. I'm going to Evansville," I said. "I'm going to bring Rhonda home."

"Of course you are, honeybunch," Mom said. "Are you sure you want to leave tonight? It's awfully late."

"We need to go now, Mom. I'm taking Donna with me." Donna hugged me fiercely.

"Donna, do you want us to bring your car down behind you?" Lamar asked. Good old Lamar. He'd come to Rhonda's and my rescue on our first date. He'd first called her my girlfriend.

"No, Lamar," Donna said. "Thank you. But no matter how this works out, I'm coming back here. I don't want to bother with a second car."

"Son," Dad said, "we're working on it. Don't do anything on the spur of the moment and don't do anything illegal. She's underage. If you bring her here without her parents' permission, it could be called kidnapping. Talk to us before you do anything. She won't be out of the hospital for a few days anyway."

"I'll call you when I get down there, Dad. I'm sorry to be a burden. If you don't want to put us up here, I'll find a place. This has gone on long enough."

"Brian, don't be stupid," Anna snapped at me. I turned to her. "Does it sound like anyone doesn't want you to bring her back here? If you are going to charge off on your white horse to rescue a fair maiden, you'll be more comfortable in the saddle with your head out of your ass. We are all going to help you. Both of you, go change your clothes. You are not driving five hours in your ceremonial clan outfits. Dress warmly. It's cold outside."

I looked at Anna with my mouth open. She reached across Donna and pushed my jaw up.

"Thank you."

"Go."

Rose and Elaine led Donna and me upstairs and got us stripped and dressed in traveling clothes. There was already a suitcase open on my bed with underwear and clothes in it. My shaver was on top with my toothbrush and toothpaste. As soon as I was out of my gi, Sam grabbed it and folded it neatly to put on top. Sora took Donna's gi and I saw her little suitcase ready to be zipped up.

"Donna, do you have other things you need out of your car?" Courtney asked. "We'll switch it over as soon as Brian's car gets back."

"My car? Where is it?"

"Carl and Doug went to get gas and make sure the tire pressure is okay. They'll be back in a few minutes," Rose said.

"Yes," Donna said. "I have another suitcase and my school books. I need to do some studying."

"We're on it, hearthmate," Courtney said. She zipped up Donna's suitcase and headed downstairs. Samantha zipped up my suitcase and followed her. Somehow, I knew I didn't need to check to make sure what I needed was in it. Courtney was back in a few minutes with Dad, Mr. Duval, and Mr. Davis. They headed straight for my computer.

"Don't mind us," Dad said. "We need to get some documents prepared. You don't need to wait."

Donna and I went downstairs and I heard the car crunching on the cinders outside.

"Give us a minute," Brenda said. Her entire casa as well as Doug's were out the door carting more stuff than I could identify.

"Brian," Mom said. "We're working on getting legal custody. Claude and Joyce aren't as ... reluctant as they were. It's not a done deal. You have to give us time to get it all worked out. Call us at least twice a day. You can call collect from the hospital. We'll let you know the progress. We may have to come down to get her ourselves. Have faith in us, Brian. Believe in us like we all believe in you."

The clan—The Clan of the Heart—is bigger than Casa del Fuego. The fourteen of us in our casa are hearthmates. The thirty-eight in our clan are cousins. We're all family. But there is more family than just us. Among us we had nearly sixty parents. They were all part of our ... what was it called? Super-clan? Tribe? Village? Hive? Somebody would figure it out eventually. George's parents were furiously making notes in a corner. I'm sure they'll explain it to us someday.

All I know is that we were of one mind. Donna and I were taking the support and good wishes of the whole crowd with us.

Mom was still concerned that we were too tired to make the drive tonight. It was nearly midnight.

"Don't worry," Brenda said to her. "Brian, there's a thermos of coffee in the front seat and a sack of sandwiches and treats. The back of your car has been made up into a bed. We cut one of the foam pads to fit and put sheets and heavy blankets in it as well as your pillows. If you get tired, stop and sleep. It will also help if Rhonda is too sore to ride sitting up when you bring her back. We've packed your suitcases and everything else you need between the seats." Brenda paused and stepped up to me. "Amiga, drive carefully. If you are tired, stop and rest. You are no good to any of us if it is you in the hospital. We love you. Understand?" I understood.

Donna and I kissed everyone, took their good wishes and got in the car. She immediately shifted the cooler and thermos around so she could slide into the middle of the front seat and was buckled in by the time I climbed into the driver's seat. We hadn't had much snow yet, but a light snow was blowing when we crunched out of the drive and headed south.

We were south of Indianapolis about three o'clock in the morning. Donna's head rested on my shoulder as she slept. The snow had turned to rain all the way to Indianapolis but had finally let up. There was just the blacktop and the white line ahead of me. I'd turned the radio off when the signal started getting weak and scratchy.

My hand jerked and I got the car straightened out and back in the middle of my lane. Donna's head came up off my shoulder. My hands were gripping the wheel in a death-grip. Almost.

"Let's pull over, Brian. We've done well. We can sleep for a while and still be there when they let visitors in to see her."

"Where?"

"That church." I pulled into the parking lot of a little country church of unknown denomination and killed the engine. My head fell back. "Come on. Let's take advantage of the nice bed they made us," she said softly. "Please, love." I let her lead me to the back of the truck and we crawled in. It didn't take long after we got our shoes off until we were snuggled under the blankets and asleep.

I woke up to a pounding on the window and a light scanning the frosted glass. I pulled myself together and opened the back door. A state trooper stood back shining the light into the back of the Suburban.

"Step out of the vehicle, please. Let me see your driver's license."

"My wallet is in my back pocket, officer," I said. "May I reach for it?"

"Yeah. What are you doing out here?"

"Taking my girlfriend home for the holiday to Evansville, sir," I said, handing him my license. Donna crawled out and stood beside me. "We thought we could make it driving through but got too tired and had to stop to sleep for a while."

"Hmm. Just sleep?"

"Yes sir." He looked at Donna but didn't ask for her license.

"You're on the St. Joe Valley basketball team, aren't you?" Wow! That surprised me.

"Yes sir. We're having a pretty good season. How did you know?"

"Oh, they called officers in from different parts of the state to watch the game last Saturday night. That was a good game. You're shorter than I thought."

"I think I'm the shortest player in the state."

"Your girlfriend here, you say?"

"Yes sir. She goes to Oberlin and lives in Evansville. We got a call late last night that her sister is in the hospital and tried to drive down from Mishawaka. We just were too tired."

"Then it's a good thing you stopped rather than drive. Driving while you are sleep deprived is worse than driving drunk. How are you now?" I glanced at my watch. It was six-thirty.

"We got about three hours. I should be good to make it to Evansville."

"Is this your car, Brian?"

"Yes. The registration and insurance card are in the glove box. Sorry I couldn't get to them."

"I'll take your word for it. There was no stolen vehicle report when I called it in. Now listen. There's a roadside café about eight miles farther on. Molly opens up at six. Before you try to go on to Evansville, stop for breakfast and a cup of coffee. You've got about a hundred miles to go yet."

"I'll do that, officer. Thanks for waking us up."

"People get suspicious when they see a strange car in a church parking lot. You should be good to go now. Drive safely." He gave me my license and watched us close up the back and get in the truck. We fastened our seatbelts and pulled out of the lot. We took his advice and got breakfast at Molly's Café. At least it was light out when we started up again.

We were at the hospital at a quarter till nine. I suppose we looked a little rumpled from the night in the car, but visiting hours were at nine. We went to the reception desk.

"We'd like to have the room number for Rhonda Gordon," Donna said.

"I'm sorry, but visiting hours are in fifteen minutes. I'll have to call to make sure she will see anyone."

"I'm her sister."

"Oh. And this ... gentleman?"

"I'm her boyfriend," I said. The receptionist did a little double-take and then reached for her phone.

"Let me call up and see how soon the doctor will allow you to see her. Just have a seat and I'll call you." Funny. She didn't even ask our names. Donna and I turned to walk across the little waiting room to sit down.

"This seems strange to me," I said. "Are hospitals always like this?"

"I don't know. Let's just wait." She turned to sit down and I heard her gasp. I looked back at the reception desk and two policemen were headed toward us. One had a baton raised and the other had his hand on his holster. I didn't wait to see what they wanted. I flattened myself out on the floor and spread my arms and legs. In a second, I felt the baton pressed against the back of my neck.

"Don't move. Do you have ID?"

"Wallet. Back left pocket." I felt him rummaging around in my pocket.

"What are you doing to my boyfriend?" Donna demanded.

"Thomas Westerling, you are under arrest for assault and battery. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?"

"I'm not Thomas Westerling," I groaned.

"Answer the question. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?"

"Yes."

"He's not Thomas Westerling," the guy with my ID said. "This says he's Brian Frost."

"Shit! Why'd you hit the floor like that?" Miranda cop asked.

"You were coming at me with a raised baton and your hand on your gun," I said. It should have been obvious.

"Who are you?" he asked. I started to give my name but Donna answered.

"I'm Donna Gordon. We came here to see my sister."

"And this is your boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"Let him up. The receptionist said your sister's boyfriend was here. We've got an APB out on him and he's listed as dangerous and possibly on drugs."

I rolled over and looked at them.

"You can stand up," baton cop said. He held out his hand. I ignored it and pushed myself up.

"Thank you," I said.

"We're a little on edge. I hate guys who beat on their girlfriends," baton cop said.

"So do I," I answered. "Can we see Rhonda now?"

"If she'll see you. She hasn't spoken to anyone since they brought her in last night," Miranda cop said.

"We'll escort you to the door. If she says anything against you, we'll escort you out again."

Donna entered the room first and Rhonda turned her face away from the door. It was worse than I thought. Her face was swollen and her nose bandaged. Her right arm was in a cast and she had an IV drip in her left. Donna went to the side Rhonda had turned to as I approached her left. I reached for her hand and a tear touched it an instant before I did. Rhonda's eyes traveled up to her sister's face before she turned her head to look at me.

"You came," she whispered. "After all I've done, you still came for me."

"I still love you," I answered. "How could I not come?"

"Remember, girlfriend," she whispered. "No matter what, I still love you."

I pulled a chair up next to the bed and just held her hand as Rhonda talked to her sister. She didn't turn back to me, but she didn't let go of my hand, either. If anything, she gripped it more tightly. It was a good sign, but this was going to take a long time.

Rev. and Mrs. Gordon came in and Donna and I had to leave. Only two visitors at a time. Rev. Gordon came back out a minute later and nodded for me to go back in. Mrs. Gordon was sitting next to Rhonda's right side chattering away as Rhonda just stared up at the ceiling. I guess it was what most people would do. Try to act like it's no big thing to be in the hospital and talk about all the mundane things that make life go on. When I sat next to Rhonda's other side, she took my offered hand and gripped it hard while she continued to stare at the ceiling.

Eventually, Mrs. Gordon ran down. I guess you can only last so long trying to cheer up a zombie. She stood up and leaned over to kiss Rhonda on the top of her head.

"It will work out, my little baby. I promise we'll make it work," she whispered. I could see tears in her eyes as she glanced up at me and then left the room. We sat there in silence for a few minutes, thinking Donna would be back in a minute.

"Will it, Brian?" Rhonda whispered, still looking at the ceiling. "Will it work out?"

"Rhonda, my love. I am not leaving here without you. I promise. That's my promise, beloved. I never break a promise."

"They won't let me go. I'm only seventeen."

"Then I'll stay here until you're eighteen. I'm not going to let go of you again." She turned to face me.

"You can't do that. You're still in school."

"I have enough credits to graduate at the end of the semester next month. I can either put off continuing with my college classes, or enroll at the extension here in Evansville."

"You'd do that? How would you live?"

"I've been making pretty good money. If I took a weekend trip to South Bend every other week, I could continue taping my show. I'm not rich, but I could afford to rent a room here."