Something Terrible Read online

  “Man! She has gotten so big!”

  “She’s in the ninetieth percentile for height,” Gil answered proudly, following Eddie through his front door and into his house.

  “I believe it,” Eddie replied, setting Selma down in the kitchen. Selma immediately took off in search of their little “min pin,” Coco. “Cocoooo? Cocoooooo!”

  “Where’s Amy?” Gil asked, looking around the kitchen.

  “She went out to get some snacks.”

  “She’ll be back soon though, right?” Gil’s smile cracked. His eyes shot nervously from one side of the room to the other. He and his wife had reservations in forty-five minutes and it was a thirty-minute drive to the restaurant. That left just enough time for Gil to drive home, pick up Natalie, and get on the road. No time to wait for Eddie’s wife to get home, but Natalie would freak if he left Selma alone with Eddie. Fuck.

  “She should be home any minute. Just go. I’ll take care of Selma until Amy gets here.”

  The hairs on the back of Gil’s neck stood on end.

  “Uh, umm. That’s okay. I’ll wait.”

  Eddie cocked his head and wrinkled his brow. Staring hard at Gil’s face. Gil squirmed under his friend’s naked appraisal.

  “You don’t think I can handle your daughter by myself? Go ahead and take your wife to dinner. I got this,” Eddie said with that lopsided grin that made him look cute and harmless and slightly retarded all at the same time.

  Gil fidgeted, shifting from one foot to the other and looking everywhere but at his friend. “No, man. I-I’ll just hang out until Amy gets back.”

  Eddie stepped closer to Gil, forcing eye contact. “What’s going on, man? You don’t trust me with your daughter?”

  Gil let out a sigh. “It’s not that. It’s just that Natalie and I have this rule—forget it. It’s nothing. Amy will be home soon, right?”

  Eddie smiled and patted Gil on the back. “She just went to the store, man. She’ll be right back. Stop trippin’. You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to your pride and joy. I’ll protect her with my life.”

  Gil smiled and nodded. “I know you would, man. I’m sorry. Thanks for watching her for me. We all need to hook up for dinner soon.”

  “Definitely. See you in a couple of hours. Tell that sexy wife of yours I said hi.”

  “You too.”

  Gil left, feeling guilty and worried, and guilty for feeling worried. He drove the six miles back to his house to pick up Natalie. She looked gorgeous when he stepped through the door. Natalie was not a small woman. Not fat but not skinny either. She had a small paunch left over from two pregnancies, the last one having taken place when she was already in her thirties. Luckily it was shadowed by a voluptuous bosom. Her bra size had gone up two sizes when she was carrying Selma and had never diminished. She had wide hips but thin, muscular legs and a small but round ass that looked a bit out of proportion; it almost made her look top-heavy. To Gil, Natalie’s incongruous curves were irresistible, sheer perfection. Even after fifteen years of marriage, the sight of her still took his breath away.

  She was wearing a simple black dress with a plunging neckline and a slit up one side that accentuated her thin, athletic legs and tan wedges with braided straps that increased her height by another five inches and almost brought her eye to eye with Gil.

  “Hey, beautiful!”

  “Hey yourself. I look like shit. I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “Are you kidding me? You look gorgeous!”

  “I’m going to change.”

  “What? But you look so sexy in that dress.”

  “I don’t feel comfortable in this.”

  “We don’t have time for you to change. We’ll be late for our reservation.”

  “Sorry, I’m changing.”

  Gil followed her into the bedroom and watched as she ripped through her wardrobe in a frenzy. Her low self-esteem clouded her vision and turned the image she saw in the mirror into a funhouse distortion. He knew what she was seeing. Those thighs that he loved were thick, elephantine pillars in her mind. Her voluptuous hips that drove him wild were just mounds of unwanted adipose tissue to her. Gil never understood why the fact that he loved her body wasn’t enough for her. What did it matter if she didn’t live up to the media-created standard of beauty if her husband was happy with her looks?

  “Why is it that every time I say something looks sexy on you, you change your clothes?”

  “I’m a mother. I’m not supposed to look sexy.”

  “You’re still a woman . . . and a wife.”

  “Come on, Gil. Don’t give me shit. I wasn’t comfortable.”

  Gil checked his watch again and tried to calculate how much time he had to get downtown before their reservations ran out. Forty-five minutes. Downtown Austin was twenty-five minutes away. Thirty in traffic.

  “Okay. Just find something else quick.”

  It took exactly fifteen minutes and three more changes of clothes before Natalie finally left the house wearing a dress that was far less flattering than the one she’d taken off. Gil didn’t care. As long as she was happy with what she was wearing, and they weren’t late for their reservations, she could have been wearing a potato sack for all it mattered.

  “You look gorgeous,” he said, kissing Natalie on the cheek and opening the car door for her.

  “You sure this dress doesn’t make me look fat? I feel like it makes my hips and ass look too big.”

  Gil rolled his eyes. “I’m an ass man, darlin’. Trust me, yours is just lovely. Shall I get down on my knees and prove it?”

  Natalie smiled. “And how would you do that?”

  “I’d lick the stank off you.”

  Natalie shook her head and scowled.

  “You are disgusting!” she said, laughing.

  “You married me. So what does that make you?”

  Gil stuck his tongue out as far as it would go until it touched the tip of his nose.

  “There are so many better places you could put that tongue than my ass, you know?”

  “Anywhere you want it, darlin’.”

  “How did I ever wind up with such a pervert?”

  “You love this pervert though, don’t you?” Gil asked, leaning in for a kiss.

  “I love you very much,” Natalie responded before touching her lips to his.

  They kissed for several long seconds. It was a deep, passionate, soul-stirring kiss that left them both breathless.

  “You sure you don’t want to stay here tonight? A couple of hours without the kids could be put to some good use.”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Can I have a rain check on you licking the stank off me?” Natalie asked, kissing Gil again as he shifted the car into reverse and pulled out of the driveway.

  “Of course.”

  “Does my ass really stink?”

  “Not at all. Your asshole smells like roses.”

  “You’re a jerk.”

  “You love this jerk.”

  The drive to the restaurant was quick. Gil checked the rearview mirror obsessively as he tested the speed limit, trying to make it to the restaurant before their reservation ran out. They made it with four minutes to spare. He parked the car and rushed around to open the door for Natalie, something he only did when they were dressed up for a night on the town. Natalie smiled and held out her hand for him. He took it and helped her out of the car. Together they walked into the restaurant, a Brazilian steakhouse they had been dying to try for months. The evening was off to a wonderful start.

  ***

  It was late when they arrived back at Eddie’s house. They were both slightly tipsy. They’d had wine with their meal and then had gone out for more drinks at a wine bar on Congress Avenue that also served appetizers and desserts. They’d shared a bottle of cabernet and a piece of chocolate cake almost as large as Natalie’s head.

  The house was dark when they arrived. Gil stepped out of the car and rang the d
oorbell. After a few moments, Eddie came to the door in his pajama pants without his shirt. He looked sweaty and out of breath, like he’d been working out or having sex.

  “Did I interrupt something? You and Amy in there gettin’ busy when you’re supposed to be watching Selma?”

  “Nah, man. Amy’s sleep. I was just doing some pushups in the living room. Come on in.”

  Gil walked in, frowning, looking around for Selma. The TV was on in the living room and Selma was sitting on the couch, still awake.

  “She wouldn’t go to bed. I’ve been up with her all night,” Eddie said.

  Gil felt ill. Eddie had been alone with Selma for God knew how long.

  “And you were just in here doing pushups? Since when do you do pushups?”

  “I used to do a hundred in the morning and a hundred at night. So I’ve slacked off the last couple of months. Don’t give me shit about it. You ain’t exactly Brad Pitt either, motherfucker.”

  Gil laughed. “It just seems weird. You’re down here doing pushups in the living room while Amy’s upstairs asleep and Selma’s down here watching Family Guy. Wait—Family Guy?”

  Eddie shrugged. “It’s a cartoon. She’s too young to get the adult humor. As far as she’s concerned it’s just a bunch of funny characters bouncing around on-screen saying goofy shit.”

  “She’s five. She’s not retarded. Don’t let her watch that shit.”

  “Okay. Okay. My bad.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Thanks for watching her.” Gil reached out for Selma and lifted her off the couch and onto his broad shoulders.

  “Come on, Princess. Mommy’s waiting. Time to go home. Say good night to Eddie.”

  “Good night, Eddie.”

  “Good night, Selma.”

  Gil shook Eddie’s hand. “Thanks again for watching her, man. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem, man. You guys are family.”

  “Oh, and you need to do more pushups. Your tits jiggled when I shook your hand. You’re like fat and skinny at the same time.”

  “Fuck you, man!”

  Eddie punched Gil in the arm.

  “I’m just fuckin’ with you. Good night.”

  “Drive safe. Tell Natalie I said hi.”

  3.

  “He made me touch his penis.” She pointed at Gil’s crotch. “Down there.”

  Gil felt like he could feel the earth rotating under his feet. The heavens spun like he was on a carrousel. He felt cold and then flush with rage as he began calculating myriad ways to punish the man. But this had to be a mistake. He knew Eddie. Eddie wouldn’t do something like that.

  “How did he make you touch it?”

  “With my mouth.”

  Gil’s stomach threatened to revolt. His muscles tightened, hardened, eager for something to destroy. Instead, he gathered Selma into his arms.

  “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone with him. Daddy’s so sorry.”

  “Where was Amy?” Natalie asked, and Gil felt pangs of guilt like physical pain as Selma answered.

  “She wasn’t home yet.”

  It must have happened right after Gil dropped her off—when he knew Amy wasn’t home.

  Gil looked back at his wife. Natalie’s expression wounded him where he never knew he could hurt. It felt as if something had pierced his flesh and cut deep into the cells, wounded his very life force. She looked betrayed. Not by Eddie but by Gil. Eddie was Gil’s friend. Gil had vouched for him repeatedly. But, worst of all, Gil had broken the rules. He knew that, in his wife’s eyes, Gil had betrayed her every bit as much as Eddie had betrayed them both. He had practically delivered his own daughter into the hands of a pedophile. He could see her reliving her own assault from decades ago, when she was just a few years older than Selma. Gil felt miserable, wretched, had never believed anyone, certainly not his best friend, could rape a child so young. Of course he knew it had happened, but he still found it inconceivable. He couldn’t imagine someone sexualizing a child. His child! He couldn’t think of anything more horrible, more inhuman.

  “What did you do?” Natalie said through clenched teeth, her face twisted into a rictus of pain and outrage. “What did you do?” She punched him several times and then snatched Selma from his arms.

  “What’s going on?”

  Their son, Kai, walked into the room. He must have just gotten home. If he had been home last night they wouldn’t have needed a babysitter. But it wasn’t his fault either. The fault rested solely on Gil’s shoulders. He had to make it right.

  “His friend molested your sister!”

  “What? What did Eddie do?”

  “He made her perform oral sex on him.”

  “What the fuck? That sick son of a bitch!”

  “Watch your mouth, Kai.”

  “Well, let’s go get his ass! Let’s go fuck his ass up!”

  Gil looked at his son’s angry face, a lighter, cappuccino-colored version of his own, and then at his wife’s beautiful, blonde, fair-skinned regal features, now distorted in anguish. The pain on her face increased Gil’s fury until it was like a living thing clawing inside him, trying to get out and tear shit up.

  “I’m going over there.”

  “I’m calling the cops!” Natalie said.

  “Not yet,” Gil said, and something in his face communicated his intentions to Natalie, broke through her own tidal wave of emotion.

  “Don’t . . . don’t get arrested. Don’t go to prison, Gil. Don’t . . . don’t . . . ”

  Gil nodded. He knew what she meant. She didn’t want to say, “Don’t kill him,” because she wanted him dead. She wanted Gil to kill Eddie. She wanted that sick, twisted fucker to pay. She just didn’t want Gil to get caught. She didn’t want to lose her husband. Gil wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he wasn’t going to rule out murder.

  “I won’t go to prison. I won’t get caught. Just don’t call the police. Let me handle this. I promise, I’ll make it right. I’ll fix it.”

  Natalie shook her head. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she squeezed Selma tight against her.

  “You can’t fix this, Gil. Nothing can fix this.”

  Gil nodded. “But I can fix Eddie.”

  “I’m coming with you, Dad.”

  “No. You stay with your mom and your sister.”

  Kai stepped in front of Gil, barring his way to the front door. “I’m coming with you, Dad. She’s my sister. It’s my job to protect her too. Let me help.”

  Gil hesitated, but he couldn’t think straight. He tried to figure out what a good parent would do in this situation, but this wasn’t something they addressed in any of the parenting books Natalie had made him read when she was pregnant. This was outside the rulebook. Gil struggled to think of every reason for or against, but he couldn’t discipline his mind to the task. It kept wandering back to the pain on his wife’s face. She had been devastated. And he couldn’t get Selma’s words out of his head. Words no father should ever hear. His little girl telling him that Eddie had made her touch his penis.

  With my mouth.

  “Come on.”

  4.

  Eddie was still alive and Gil was going to make sure he wouldn’t be happy about it.

  “What about his kid?” Kai said. “We gonna do this in front of his kid?”

  Gil’s anger came surging back. “I don’t give a fuck about that damn kid! He raped my little girl! I should kill this piece of shit right in front of his kid.”

  “We should kill his kid too then. We should kill him and make Eddie watch. That would really fuck him up.”

  He said it so coldly, so callously, Gil wasn’t sure he’d heard the boy right.

  “What did you say, Kai?”

  “We should kill his kid. We should torture the little bastard. I mean, he hurt Selma, right? An eye for an eye, right?”

  Gil looked over at the little toddler and shook his head.

  “No, we aren’t touching his kid. Take him back in the kitchen
.”

  “Don’t hurt my boy.” It was a hoarse, phlegm-choked croak. Barely more than a whisper gurgled from cracked and swollen lips and a mouth full of blood. Eddie was staring right at Gil, trying to sit up. His eyes were glazed and unfocused and kept drifting from one side to the other, unable to focus. He looked like he was extremely inebriated, but Gil was pretty sure the problem was brain damage. Lack of oxygen from being choked, combined with the severe beating he’d taken. He was lucky he wasn’t a vegetable.

  Kai led the boy into the other room. Just before he closed the kitchen door, he turned to Eddie and smiled. Gil did not like the look of that smile. It was wrong, inappropriate. It was as if Kai was enjoying this. Gil found himself worrying about what Kai might do to Eddie’s kid.

  We should kill his kid. We should torture the little bastard. I mean, he hurt Selma, right? An eye for an eye, right?

  The words still hung heavy in the air.

  “Kai! Don’t hurt that boy! You hear me? Don’t do anything until I say so!”

  “Yeah, Dad. I won’t,” Kai said quietly. His words barely penetrated the door, barely reached Gil’s ears. There was little conviction in them.

  “I’m serious! Don’t you do anything!”

  “Yes, Dad.” Again Kai sounded almost distracted, like he was barely listening.

  Gil looked down and saw the fear in Eddie’s eyes too.

  “I didn’t do anything! Don’t let him hurt Little Eddie! Please! We’re best friends, for Christ’s sake! Whatever you think I did is bullshit! You know I wouldn’t hurt Selma. I wouldn’t do that!”

  That Stygian rage, like a volcanic explosion, erupted to the surface once more. Gil grabbed Eddie by the throat and began choking him again.

  “She told me! She told me what you did! You sick fuck! She told me herself!”

  “Use these,” Kai said. He was standing above Gil and Eddie holding duct tape, a drill, and a palm sander. “I found them in the garage. We should torture his ass for what he did. It’s only right. Selma’s going to be suffering for a long time. Just kicking his ass ain’t enough. Killing him ain’t enough. This piece of shit needs to suffer!”

  “Watch your mouth, Kai! I’m still your father.”

  “Sorry, Dad.”

  Gil felt stupid correcting his nearly adult son for his language under the circumstances, but with everything spiraling out of control, his boy and his responsibilities as a father were things he could still control.