{Chapter 4}
Andrew’s heart pounded against his rib cage as Grandpa George swung the door to the police precinct open. Andrew waited for his mom and grandma to enter the building before stepping into the confines of the air conditioned building.
The first thing Andrew noticed after the door shut was that there were at least twenty different cops inside, some in uniform, some in plain clothes. He could tell, if the cop shows he watched were correct, that the plain clothed officers were detectives. Andrew wasn’t entirely sure if this idea that his grandpa had was going to work. How could just strolling into this place solve any of the problems they had.
Andrew thought that they would say, “Call in if you have a physical threat.” Which, was exactly what happened.
Andrew had been standing back the whole time the adults were discussing the predicament. And when the officer said those words, Grandpa George had turned and motioned for Andrew to come forward. When the cop saw Andrew’s face his eyes became wide and he said, “What happened?”
Andrew nearly said what he always said but Grandpa George said, “Is that enough of a physical threat for you?” His tone had an edge of supreme annoyance. “Because, if it’s not, I don’t know what is.” He glared angrily at the cop. Andrew was hoping beyond hope that the cop would take his face as a serious threat.
“We also have this,” Anne said. “Andrew can I see your phone?” Andrew fished his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it, and went to the mail app. He knew his mom was going to show the cop the final email that Thomas had sent. That had to be a threat, right? If not, these cops were idiots.
Anne waited a few moments and pressed the screen, then handed the cop the phone. “If this isn’t a threat, then we are going to have to do something by ourselves, and I don’t believe that it will be legal.”
The cop, who Andrew now noticed was named Clyde, read the message over and over again. “Um, if you’ll excuse me for a second I need to go do something.” He said after a few moments. He walked to a room and closed the door. Andrew watched with mild interest the Clyde hand the phone to a man sitting at a desk.
“Sir, I believe you should take a look at this,” Officer Clyde Hershel said. He stood at the door of Chief Brandon Barnes’ office. “For the past twenty minutes I have been listening to a story about a man who wants to kill his son. I wasn’t entirely sure what to do, because they weren’t sure that this killer was even in the state. It seemed kind of far fetched that he would come to Austin to kill his son. I know that makes me a bad cop, but until I saw that kid’s face,” He pointed towards Andrew, “and this, I don’t know what to do.”
By this time, Chief Barnes’ had finished reading the message. “What is wrong with the boys face? It looks fine.” He was staring at the left side of Andrew’s face.
“You’re looking at the wrong side. And his face is marred by a burn… from a clothes iron.” Brandon Barnes’ face scrunched up in thought.
“What do you mean?” The Chief said.
“I just said what I mean! From here,” he pointed to his temple, “to here,” he pointed at his jaw line, “His face is scarred. From a burn,” Clyde said.
“You know that we can’t do anything unless it is for sure that this man,” He pointed towards the iPhone, “is in Austin, or even in Texas,” He said. “If he isn’t in Austin he is out of our jurisdiction and we cannot help. To help in any way, is nearly impossible because we don’t know where he is.”
“Well, you are going to be the one to tell them that. Because I don’t have the heart to tell them. Besides, that boy’s grandfather is going to be so angry.”
“Fine.” Brandon stood from his desk and walked towards the main part of the building.
Andrew had just leaned against a chair to take the pressure off of his feet when Clyde Hershel and the chief walked out. Andrew had guessed that it was the chief because only the chief’s had office spaces separate of the other cops. Cop shows were very educational. Yeah, sure. They may use real procedures but they were unrealistic. Nothing like this ever happened.
The chief walked up and Grandpa George said, “Please say you can help us?”
“I’m sorry. You say that you aren’t even sure that this man is even in Austin. If you can get some solid proof that this man, is in Austin, then we can help you. But other than that, it’s out of our jurisdiction. I am very sorry.”
Grandpa George blew up just then. His voice echoed around the building and Andrew was almost sure you could hear it outside. “Are you freaking serious? We came and said that a man is going to try and murder this boy,” He gestured towards Andrew. “And you say that you cannot help us?” If looks could kill, Grandpa George would have killed both Clyde and the chief. It was like molten lava was pouring from his gaze.
“I am very sorry.” the Chief said.
“Just so you know, if Thomas gets anywhere near Andrew, I am going to kill that man and I will go happily to jail. Because that will rid the world of one piece of sick scum.” With that he strode out of the building. Andrew found a new respect for his Grandfather. The fact that such a kind and loving man was willing to kill to keep Andrew safe showed how much Grandpa George loved Andrew so much.
The Chief had wide eyes and watched as if in a trance as Andrew, Grandma Helen and Anne left the building.
It was dead silent in the truck on the way back to Andrew’s grandparent’s home.
Thomas enjoyed this. Oh, yes, he enjoyed it. He had pulled his car closer to the building and had watched George come storming out of the police precinct with white hot fury showing in his face.
He knew the police had said they couldn’t help. He didn’t know why, nor did he care. All he cared about was that his game had just become that much more fun. He nearly giggled like a schoolboy who had just received his first kiss from the love of his life.
“Commence part two of: Kill Andrew.” Thomas had not come up with a cool name. Why would he need one? The name was simple and to the point. He didn’t need an anagram that said the same thing in a billion different words. No. He could spend much more time thinking of pain he could inflict on his son.
Thomas watched as the rest of the troop followed George out. Soon, Thomas was following the truck back through town thinking of more masterminded things to strike fear into Andrew. He liked to play with his victims before going in with the kill, like a cat pulls the limbs off of a mouse before consuming it.
Thomas was in a great mood. He began to grin a wide menacing grin. Oh, life just got that much more exciting.
Andrew felt sick to his stomach as soon as he stepped in the front door. The wave of nausea came on so suddenly and powerfully that he nearly passed out on the spot he stood. Andrew’s vision became blurred and he moved quickly. He knew what was coming. He made it to the bathroom just in time for the acidic liquid came up through his throat. He retched and his stomach heaved. The smell of stomach acid caused Andrew to heave more and puke up more of the retched filth.
It was a vicious cycle that almost refused to end. Andrew was able to pull away from the rancid smell. His stomach settled just enough for him to take in long labored gulps of fresh air. His uvula was raw from the acid striking it. A great wave of exhaustion hit him broadside and he nearly lost consciousness.
He forced himself up off the floor and walked into the hallway. His steps were slow, but deliberate. He made it to his bed and he lay down. His exhaustion took his mind as soon as he laid his head down upon the pillow.
He was aware of a cold cloth being put on his forehead but everything else was gone. Warm darkness enveloped him and calmed his fast beating heart.
“What are we going to do?” Anne said desperately. She had sat down on the sofa and began rubbing her hands. The police can’t help us. I mean, I didn’t expect them to be able to. But I had hope.”
Grandpa George came up behind Anne and said, “It’s OK Annie. Everything is going to be fine. I won’t let Thomas touch anyone. If he does, he is dead. I don’t care what happens to me. I will kill him and not feel an inch of regret.”
Anne took a deep breath and turned around. “I wish I had never married that freak.” A tear slipped out of her eyes. “Then none of this would have happened.”
“I know, I know. But if it weren’t for Thomas, Andrew wouldn’t have been born. And it would be a shame not to have him around.”
“That would be terrible.” Anne said. “I wish I could have stopped him.”
“I know, but what’s done is done. And I’m sorry you have so much grief. But, what we need to worry about now is how to get away from Thomas and how to stop him. We cannot dwell on past events, unless they are going to be helpful in the long run.” George went into the kitchen and came back seconds later holding a piece of paper.
“Dad, I can’t help but feel guilty. Andrew was hurt because I couldn’t stop Thomas and…” Large tears began to pour down Anne’s cheeks and she began to sob. “People call him Iron-face at school. They call him ugly. He get’s random texts that say that stuff. And he lets people beat him up.”
The words came in a rush and Anne couldn’t stop. She knew about everything from the beginning and had never brought herself to admit it. “I don’t think his heart can take much more. He’s a strong boy. But he is still a child and it hurts so much to know that he is in so much pain.”
She began to weep harder and she said, “I am afraid this will send him over the edge and that he will never be the same. He’s already changed so much because of what Thomas did. And I am afraid that I will lose him. I don’t think I could handle that. I love him too much.” Anne hitched in a breath and her tears rolled down her cheeks. “What’s more is that Andrew hates God. He literally despises him. He thinks that God is evil and had Thomas hurt him for some wicked game. No matter how hard I try, Andrew refuses to believe that God loves him. It breaks my heart.”
Anne sat quietly weeping into her hands. George sat quietly.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Tears began to form in George’s eyes. Soon they were streaming down his cheeks. “I will stop Thomas. You will not lose Andrew. I promise.” With that both George and Anne fell into sobbing into each other’s arms. George felt such grief at knowing his daughter and grandson were in so much pain and he couldn’t do anything to help them. He silently prayed, Lord, please. Please keep Andrew safe. It hurts so much to know they are hurting so much.
Though Andrew did not dream, his mind was active. His thoughts were flying. His memories were also striking him hard. As he lay in the cool room upon the soft mattress his heart felt like imploding. His throat was constricted.
His memories were like sharp pieces of broken glass striking his flesh causing his hope to drain slowly. The pain was excruciating and Andrew could hardly bare the memories.
#
The first day Andrew returned to school after the incident no one seemed to notice him. Everyone went about their business. Not even Andrew’s best friend Michael acknowledged him. He saw Andrew coming up to him and he turned and rushed away.
That first day, Andrew went home in tears. As he had been walking out the front of the school someone had been talking about him. They had said, “Did you see Andrew today? I mean, he is butt ugly now.” He had caught his breath and rushed on down the stone steps straight to his home.
As soon as he opened the front door, he rushed upstairs to his room. He shut his door and fell to the ground and wept. He didn’t understand why such words could hurt so much. Maybe it was because before his father had gone all freakazoid on him he was considered the cutest guy in school.
And now he had dropped to the bottom of the world into the muck.
Andrew didn’t understand, though, why people were saying such things. He hadn’t ever been rude to them; he had always been the nicest kid in school. But people took his ugliness for granted.
As the days went by the murmurs got worse. People started calling him iron-face. That hurt the worst. He didn’t understand how it did. It was just a name. But, maybe it was because he had to accept that his face was marred by an iron. And, he couldn’t do it.
The people at Andrew’s school were sharks and preyed on the weak and broken. They noticed Andrew’s weakness and they attacked with relentless fervor. Andrew’s heart already hurt because he was ugly, and with the verbal attacks, his heart hurt worse.
Andrew was constantly in tears. He made himself sick, just so he could stay home and not have to face another day in hell. Staying home did nothing for him, though. People would send texts filled with jeers. It seemed that Andrew couldn’t escape his perpetual darkness.
The only person that stuck by him was Molly. She would never use foul language in normal conversations. But when it came to Andrew, she would turn and cuss out the person that had made a vile comment. This gave Andrew some comfort. But, really, the comfort only lasted a few minutes before he would enter his depression.
Andrew had finally had enough at one point and socked Christophe Jaredson in the jaw. It was then, that Andrew had discovered that pain brought him the most comfort. He told no one about his beatings. Molly had once seen Christophe beating him up and she had been devastated. She couldn’t seem to grasp how much pain Andrew was in and didn’t understand how, “getting beat up is supposed to get rid of your pain.”
Andrew had merely said, “You don’t understand. And you won’t understand. Because this conversation is over.” He had walked away crushed.