The Last Stand of Haviland Dinwiddie

Chapter 17

By Dabeagle

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I tilted my head and stared at him. “A joke? Are you serious?”

“Kind of the opposite of a joke, Babe,” he said with a little smile. “C'mon. This is nothing. I have to take your pants too, and what if there's blood on your underwear?”

“You're enjoying this!” I accused.

“Actually, I'm just barely holding it together,” he said, a tremor in his scratchy voice. “And the first time I get your shirt off you, I'd have really liked it to be in nearly any situation but this. But you know what? I'm going to take it. There's a dead guy on the other side of this door who tried to kill me, I'm pretty sure. Our mob boss of a...boss...is probably getting him ready for an oil drum he's going to drop off in New Jersey, and yes, I do. I do want you to take your damn shirt off. I don't think that's so bad.”

He was right, this was ridiculous. I was ridiculous. I pressed my lips together and bent my arm. He stretched the sleeve and pulled it over my elbow and up my arm. Then he ran his fingertips up my ribs in a deliberate attempt to tickle me – it worked – and then he pulled the shirt over my head as I bowed forward, trying not to laugh.

He took a step back and looked at me. I crossed my arms over my chest, opening my hands. “Stop,” I said softly.

“Okay,” he said gently and held the shirt for me to push my arm through. I watched him, knowing his ability to be sneaky, but he held the shirt still as I ran my arm into the sleeve. He brought the bottom up over my head and helped me work my arm through the other sleeve. He straightened the cloth on my shoulders and tucked the tag into my collar. He smiled, just a little. “I liked what I saw.”

I felt a totally inappropriate swell of pleasure pushing against my ribs. “Why New Jersey?”

He shrugged. “I think the mob used to bury people there. I heard there's barrels under the field at one of the football stadiums.” He hesitated. “Do you need help with the pants?”

It took me a moment. “Uh. Maybe?” I pressed down on the waist of my joggers, sitting down as I pushed, but I wasn't able to finish taking them off. He quickly pulled on them, bundling them into the garbage bag and then pushing a fresh set on up to my knees.

With his hands on my knees – and he on his – he smirked. “There's a joke here, I know it.”

“Shut up,” I said, blushing and pulling my joggers up.

We went back out into the main room of the apartment. Hav already had a few bags laid out on the counter. “Scalawag. Take this key here, open up the first apartment. Harvey, take this bag and go into your mom's room and start bagging her stuff.”

I took the bag from him. “Okay. Can I ask why?”

Hav looked at me seriously. “There was water damage in here from the leak. You're moving to a new apartment.”

It took a moment and then understanding flashed across my brain. “Oh, right! Water damage.” I headed into my mother's room, not sure if I should be grateful Hav had a plan or worried that he'd had a plan. I started with my mom's clothes, quickly bagging the things in her drawers and setting her personal items from her nightstand and the top of her dresser inside the clothes hamper. I heard Hav tell someone to start bagging up our clothes, so I figured Rigby was back. I wasn't prepared to see another person when I stepped out of my mother's room, bag over my shoulder and dragging her hamper.

In the doorway was the priest I'd seen the first day I'd arrived. I only remember him because of the experience with Dooley when Hav threw him out.

The priest smiled, though not a happy one. “I know. It's like the start of a bad joke. A priest walks into a crime scene.”

“Van in place?” Hav asked.

“Yes,” the priest said. I decided my best course was to do what Hav had told me, so I took my mother's things to the other apartment, which was a mirror image of the one we'd been in. I took her things to the larger bedroom. I headed back and was surprised to find them wrapping the upper half of his body in the bag, the bloody hammer with...stuff...on it lay on the tile floor. With my stomach feeling unsettled and my ribs aching more as time passed, I slipped around them to help Rigby finish packing our room up.

“All our stuff is mixed together,” he said.

“We can fix it later,” I replied.

He lowered his voice. “This seems so shady. Why didn't we call the cops?”

I glanced toward the door, then back to him. “My dad's a cop. He found me because another cop scanned my license when we got stopped. Remember?”

His face sagged. “Did I let your dad find you? Is this on me?”

I shook my head sharply. “Father, never a dad, and no fucking way. It's because the system is flawed, and he took advantage. But...” I let out a deep breath. “I have no faith in the cops. Maybe they'd come here and see it was self defense, but...maybe they arrest me. That would kill my mom. Or maybe he told someone before he left that my mom called him and wanted to fix things. Then they'd say we lured him here for me to kill. I just....”

He nodded slowly. “It's too big a chance. This is huge. Like I don't think I've really...you know.” He looked up and slowly blew out a breath. Looking back to me, he said, “He tried to kill me.”

My eyes instantly watered. “I know, Babe. I know.”

He shook his head. “I've never been so fucking scared. How did you ever survive?”

I shook my head. “I really don't know. I know it's fucked me up, but that's all I know.”

He sniffed hard and bobbed his head. “Okay. Well. You just called me Babe.”

It was surprising how not surprised I was by the odd times Rigby chooses to notice things and say them to me. I wonder if he's always been like this or if I bring it out of him.

“Boys? You asleep in there?” Hav called. “We're on the clock.”

We hefted the bags and left the room. “Just running these bags to the other apartment.”

“Okay. Hurry back,” he said. I noticed my father was completely swaddled inside the garbage bags, duct tape holding it all together. I forced myself to look away and hauled the stuff to the second apartment, tossing the bag in our room. Rigby followed suit, and we doubled back to the old apartment.

“Okay. We're going to get him out of here. Harvey, keep clearing out your stuff. When will your mom be back?”

“Uh.” I glanced at my phone to check the time. It had been a surprisingly short time since this all started. I mentally ran the numbers for how long it might take my mom to get to Daphne's, the cooking time and maybe adding a little extra in for talking. “Should still have some time. Should I call her?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. We need to work fast, though.” He looked to Rigby. “I need you to start prying up floor tiles. Grab one of those scrapers and start prying; focus on the ones with blood on 'em. I'll help when we get back up here.”

Hav and the priest hefted the body in the bag and grunted their way awkwardly down the hallway. I went into the bathroom to gather toiletries. After a trip back to the other apartment, I started packing the kitchen items, then the food. All the while Rigby was prying up floor tiles and tossing them into a pile. Hav came back up, glanced at the pile, then picked up a garbage bag and started to toss them in.

“Harvey.” Hav struggled for a moment and withdrew a set of keys. “These keys. Recognize them? One of them his car key?”

I moved closer to see. “Yeah, that's his.”

“Okay. Run downstairs, show Gil where it is, okay?”

I nodded and took off as Hav started talking to Rigby; I couldn't hear what he said. I went down the stairs and out to the street. The first thing I noticed was an old panel van with Dinwiddie Hardware on the side in block letters idling at the curb. I walked around to the driver's side and glanced behind the wheel, but didn't see anyone.

“Harvey, right?”

I jumped as the priest pushed off from the front of the van. “Uh. Yeah. Father...Gil?”

He smiled grimly. “Just Gil.”

After an awkward beat I lifted the keys. “Hav told me to bring these to you and help you find my father's car.”

He nodded. “Okay, let's find it quickly.” I looked up and down the block, but didn't see it right away. We walked around the corner, and I spotted it on the other side of the street. I hit the fob to unlock it, and the lights blinked. “There,” I said.

He took a flip phone from his pocket and dialed a number. “Yeah. Looks like an abandoned car over across from Dinwiddie's.” He paused. “Okay.” Closing the phone, he reached his hand out to me. “I'll take the keys, please, Harvey.”

I glanced at the key ring and then handed it to him. “This is kind of scary, how easy this is for you guys.”

He nodded and frowned. “I wouldn't say it's easy. It's more accurate to say it's been a necessary evil.”

That actually made sense to me. “Thank you.”

His smile was genuine. “I hope you can find a way to thrive. Seize this chance to be free.”

“I will,” I replied with conviction. I walked quickly back to the building and up to the old apartment. The floor had a real lack of tiles, and there were a few bags stuffed; right angles pushed the plastic sides out like thorns.

“Found the car,” I told Hav.

He nodded. “Good. One less thing.” He stood up slowly, grunting and using the counter to steady himself. “Just have to get a box fan up here. Help sell things.”

“What do you mean?” Rigby asked.

Hav let out a deep breath. “Did you ever wonder why I hired you, Rigby?”

I think we were both confused by the sudden change in direction. “Uh. I don't think so?”

Hav shook his head. “Your father never could get all his shit in one sack. Brock was a thief long before he got caught a few weeks ago. Your sister, well, alcohol is probably to blame.”

Rigby wrinkled his nose. “I don't really talk to her. Is she a drunk or something?”

“Oh, no,” Have said. “I was thinking your mother must have been drinking during the pregnancy. Something affected the old IQ.”

Rigby worked his mouth for a moment, but said nothing.

“So when Rigby Chandler put in an application to work for me, I thought...what's the catch, here?” Hav moved his lower jaw around in a circular motion. “But, I thought, let me meet this boy. Sure, his dad's got his issues, but I wouldn't call him evil or anything. His mom's one of many town pumps. But among much fertilizer, something good must be able to grow.”

“Did you just...I feel like I should be insulted.”

Hav nodded. “Sure. It's one of those things that it's okay for you to say about your own folk, but nobody likes hearing it from somewhere else. But before you go getting all bent out of shape, take a step back and look at it from my point of view.”

Rigby shifted on his feet. “Yeah. I know my family isn't going to win any awards.”

Hav shook a finger at him. “I'm not talking about your family tree, so much as I am about character. Look around here, Rigby.” He waved a hand at the apartment around us. “These apartments are for people running away from monsters. We like to make up things – werewolves and vampires, but humans are monstrous enough that we don't really need those. It just makes us feel better that humans have something to band against. We think those monsters are easy to spot because they have horns or long teeth.”

Rigby flinched. “Did you think I was a monster?”

Hav chuckled and smiled genuinely. “No, Rig. But I had to wonder about your character, because there are people that come here to hide from the monsters that aren't so easy to spot. I had to ask myself what kind of person you'd be.”

Rigby glanced at me and then back to Hav. “So...why did you hire me?”

Hav crossed his arms. “A very smart girl told me that you were Brock, gone right.”

Rigby frowned a little. “Brock's a douche.”

“Listen, Rigby. At some point in your life you have to start to figure out who's good for you and who's bad. Who's got your back and who'll stick a knife in it. Brock? Definitely a 'stick a knife in it' type, and probably take your wallet, too.”

“Okay. I'm not arguing, but...what's your point?”

I winced, but he didn't see.

Hav smiled. “I took a chance based on that recommendation, but then along came Brock, asking you to slide merchandise out the back door for him to sell. Intimidating you into it, would be my estimation. Recall that?”

Rigby crossed his arms and his face clouded. “Yeah, but I said no.”

Hav nodded and leaned in a bit. “You said no. Now I didn't set you up as a test or anything, and I got the word second hand about that conversation – but it's revealing, don't you think?”

Rigby looked uncomfortable. “I guess.”

“Rigby. Look at me.”

Rigby glanced at me and then met Hav's gaze.

“I know you're just a boy struggling into being a man, and there are as many measures of a man as there are people in the world. But my measure of a man is to share when you have it to share, to take what's owed you and no more, and to protect those that can't protect themselves. So sure, maybe I had some suspicions at first. Maybe I wouldn't have trusted you with the till right off.” He smiled, a bit smugly. “But you stood up for what was right, and it might have cost you a beating.”

“I'd have made him pay for it,” Rigby muttered.

“I have no doubt.” Hav reached out and put a hand on Rigby's shoulder. “Not everyone will stand up for those that need it. I've come to realize you are one of those people.”

Rigby looked a little embarrassed and dropped his closed-off posture. “I...thanks.”

Hav withdrew his hand. “It's only fair. Let's be clear, between us. That man was here to do harm. A monster came into our home and threatened ours. Not everyone will see it that way, but now we need to make sure no one notices. Perception is reality.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean his cell phone battery was taken out, and his phone will be crushed. I mean his car will be towed, scrapped, and the identifying marks scraped so it'll be like the car never existed. I mean he's going to disappear so that if someone knew where he was headed and they come looking, it will seem as though he's never been here. And someone will come looking, just because he's missing and he wore a badge. If nothing else, because the law wasn't done with him yet.”

I hadn't thought of that.

“So now we have to set up the perception that becomes people's reality. He was never here, but if there was a leak in that apartment, well, I bought cheap floor tiles. If they get too wet, the edges just curl up and pull away from the floor. Can't you just see that in your head?”

“It's...weird, but I think I can,” I said.

“Sure. Now I don't sell those tiles since I know they're not good for even wiping your ass. Who needs a floor tile that goes fuckity-bye when it gets wet? So I use them up in these apartments, because they're disposable, and it's a rental space. Follow my logic here?”

We both nodded.

“So what happened here tonight was you boys reached out because there was a water leak. Harvey here slipped on the tile, hit his face and cracked his ribs on the counter – you should probably go get that looked at.” He smiled. “By the time I got the water shut off, the floor was acting like a sphincter clenching up when it realizes you're going to eat cheap Mexican food.”

We both let out some nervous laughter. After all, this was deadly serious.

“So you boys moved everything into an empty apartment. We pried up the tiles and hauled them out, and we need to dry the floor. So what should someone hear from the hallway with this apartment door locked?”

“A box fan,” Rigby replied.

“A box fan,” Hav confirmed.

“You know...you're kind of scary,” Rigby said.

“You know what?” Hav asked and leaned in. “You're right.” They stared at each other for a moment, and then Hav started to laugh, and Rigby let out a nervous laugh, breaking the tension. “Now, Scalawag, go get the box fan from downstairs. Harvey, make another lap in here to make sure you got all your things. Once the fan is in here, I'm going to lock the place up tighter than a nun's chastity belt.”

“I have no idea what that means,” I deadpanned.

“That's because you're more interested in Rigby's chastity belt than a nun’s,” Hav said with a big grin.

“I'm...just going to get that fan,” Rigby said, and noped right out of there.

“Chicken!” he called after him.

“Why do you call him Scalawag?”

“Because he's a rascal,” Hav said with a smile. “Make your final check. Then call your mom, tell her about the water damage, moving apartments and how you fell. Sandy can take you to the urgent care.”

I shook my head. “Just bruised ribs. Sore, but I've had them before.”

“Okay. Well, if you change your mind.” He cleared his throat. “Soon as he gets up here, go in and call your mom and put things away. It'll help her to feel more settled if things are as close to normal as you can make them. Later on, when you try to sleep or your mind has time to think, you're going to feel like you're losing it. When that happens, you grab that boy of yours. You two hold on.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Our people are what make the difference.”

I nodded. I didn't want to know more – where the car would go, where the body would end up. My mind was already starting to disconnect from it all. I went into the apartment and started to put away the kitchen stuff – refrigerated stuff first and then pots, pans and such. When Rigby joined me, I paused long enough to call my mom and update her on things. She said she'd stop and get some cold packs from the store for my ribs and that she was leaving right away. I was going to tell her not to rush, but instead asked her to get some ibuprofen.

Most of the evening was spent just putting things away, getting settled into a new space. My mother talked about her visit with Daphne's mom; they had invited us to stop by the next day for dinner, and my mom had accepted. I wasn't sure how you went from murdering someone to sitting down to a holiday dinner. I don't know what my mother may have noticed or not, but I'm glad she didn't ask. When Rigby and I went to our room, I only waited long enough for the door to close to grab him and pull him close.

“Easy, E. You're going to hurt yourself, squeezing a guy that hard in your condition,” he said, sounding like nothing in the world was wrong.

I whispered into his ear. “I killed my father.”

“You saved your boyfriend's life,” he countered. “You probably saved your mom's life and maybe Hav, too, though I'm starting to think he's supernatural or something.”

“How can you be so....”

“I'm not. Not entirely.” He leaned back a bit and looked me in the eye. “I was there, too. You did the hard thing, E. I still...part of me feels like it's not real. But...it's you and me. You're not alone in this, just like I know I'm not.”

My lower lip trembled, and all I wanted right then was to lose myself in him. “I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you until I can't see his face anymore.”

“Then come here and get to work, E.”

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

I was stiff in the morning, and breathing was something I did delicately. More than anything, I hoped I didn't have to sneeze or cough. I felt a little better after a shower, and I helped my mom as she worked on getting a few different styles of semita ready. I knew they all had names, but they all fell under the semita heading, and they were all tasty. We heard a loud noise start up down the hall, and Rigby went to see what was going on. He was back in short order.

“It's Hav. He's sanding the floor to level the wood where it swelled up and dried kind of funky,” he reported.

“Oh, that's terrible,” my mother said regretfully. “What a day to have to work. Harvey, go ask him down for coffee, and I'll cut him some semita.”

“Okay.”

“I'll do it. You relax,” Rigby said.

“I can-”

“Sit your ass down is what you can do.”

I glared at him, and he stuck his tongue out before heading back down the hallway.

“He's very protective of you,” my mother commented.

“I think he just likes bossing me around,” I grumped.

Rigby came back. “He said he will come down in a bit. He wants to get some kind of sealant on the wood. I guess it takes some time to dry, plus he has to vacuum up the sawdust a bit.”

“That will give me time to make coffee,” my mom said and set to work. Rigby announced he was going to shower, since we'd be leaving for dinner, and I watched him go. My mind filled with the feel of his lips on mine the night before and the way he made me forget the day and feel nothing but him in my arms. I didn't care that other people would think it was just making out; it was so much more than that to me. It was like having a pass to an alternate reality.

I decided I would go change for dinner, since we'd probably leave shortly after Hav stopped by. I moved slowly, pulling out a pair of khakis and a button up shirt I liked. It was thin material, so I'd need to wear an undershirt. I laid the garments on the bed, and as I did I happened to glance at my wrist. Everything came back in a rush, losing my new bracelet in the fight. I didn't even know where it had gone, and I felt guilty as all fuck.

The door opened, and Rigby came in, pulling the towel from his waist to lay on his shoulder. He only had on his underwear, and I stared. The bracelet – well, everything really – was forgotten.

“Oh, thank fuck I'm gay. You're so hot,” I blurted. Rigby's whole face and upper chest went red, though he smiled a little.

“Maybe one day I'll dress like this for you, maybe only wearing my necklace,” he said and laughed at my expression. “Okay, this is out of control!”

I smiled back at him. “Well, hang on.” I went to our dresser and picked up his necklace. Turning around I held it open as I closed in on him. His face and upper chest stayed red, but he tilted his neck so I could reach behind him and work the clasp. I stood back and looked him up and down.

“Necklace still look good?”

“Yes, you do. I mean, neck. I mean. Fuck, Rigby. I can't believe I'm dating you.”

He slapped a hand to his face. “I'm getting dressed.”

“Yeah, I need to get changed, too. You going to wear your new shoes?”

“Nah. I'm going to save them for when we go back to school. I don't want to ruin them at work.” He glanced at me. “Are you going to wear your bracelet? Want me to put in on you?”

I broke from ogling him, and my jaw locked for a moment. “Um. It broke in the fight and...I lost it.”

“Shit. Go down and see Hav; see if he threw it away.”

“I...okay. I'm sorry. I should have picked it up.”

“Pfft. I'll buy you a new one. I'll get you one to match your eyes.” He eyeballed me. “Maybe I'll get you a ring. But right now, we need to find it or get a story ready for your mom, 'cause she's going to ask.”

“Oh. Shit. I hadn't thought of my mom.” I glanced toward the door. “I don't want her to know about any of this. Inviting Hav in here is huge for her.”

I headed toward the door, then paused to look back at him. He'd pulled his jeans on, but still made me so excited. “Uh. Rig?”

“Yeah, Babe?”

“Life's short. Wear the shoes.”

I headed down the hall, telling my mom I just wanted to check in on Hav. A strange wave of dizziness sent me grabbing the wall for stability as I drew closer to the door. I could hear the shop-vac running. I was confused by my body's reaction. I closed my eyes and took a few slow breaths before the feeling passed and I went the rest of the way down the hall. Hav spotted me, made a few more passes with the shop-vac and then shut it off.

“I'll get the sealant down. It'll take a few days to cure,” he said. “How's the ribs?”

“Sore,” I said. “I'm managing.”

“You do okay last night?”

I inhaled deeper than I should have and winced before replying. “I...yeah. Rigby and I....”

“That's good.”

“What about you? Are you okay?”

He smiled, but without humor. “I'll be fine.”

I glanced around quickly. “Uh. I lost a bracelet in here last night. Did you happen to see it?”

“Matter of fact, I did. I got it here,” he said, reaching into his chest pocket. “Your Mom's?”

My cheeks felt warm. “Gift from Rigby.”

“By the way you're blushing, I'm guessing Rigby didn't buy it for your mom.”

I smiled at him and shook my head.

He pulled the bracelet from his pocket and handed it to me. “I'm clearly paying you boys too much if you can afford diamonds,” he said with a grin.

“I was shocked, let me tell you,” I replied, gratefully accepting the jewelry.

“I wonder. Such a bad environment he came out of; kind of interesting he grew a different direction.”

I smiled at him. “Need a hand with the sealant?”

“Oh, no, thanks. I'll slop it around here and be down for that coffee in a jiff.”

I nodded and headed back down the hallway. Back in my room I was not surprised, though disappointed, to find Rigby had dressed for dinner.

“I borrowed one of your shirts,” he said, brushing down the front.

“Looks good on you,” I told him. I held up the bracelet. “Hav found it.”

“Fire. I'm still buying you something else.” He took the bracelet from me and looked at the broken link. “Maybe a jeweler can fix it.”

“If you're getting it fixed, you don't need to get me a new one,” I told him.

He eyed me, a mischievous expression on his face. “I really do.”

I chuckled. “Why?”

“Because,” he said, lowering his voice and getting closer, “one of these days you're going to wear that and nothing else for me.”

I blinked at him a few times.

“Only fair, E.”

“I don't understand you sometimes. But I think it's part of your rizz.”

“I am the Rizzler,” he said confidently.

I snorted, laughing at him. “Help me with my shirt?”

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