Bullied (18+)

 

Chapter 19: Parenthood (Part 2)

When I looked over at Helen, I caught a strained expression on her face. I could guess what she might have thought: Something could go wrong and I would lose the baby. Now that she supported me, I doubted the chance of losing my child, but that very thought was what I’d feared a little while ago.

Taking a deep breath, I realized that I might have to confront and ask that terrifying parent of darkness a few questions. She might know what I could do to assure my daughter would live through the entire pregnancy.

Not something to look forward to. That was not an experience I wanted to repeat, let alone a sight to see again, but she was the only one I knew who spoke to me in that world and had any clear idea what was going on.

”We can’t speak now?” I winced at the internal voice in my head.

Before I could think of what to respond with, Helen spoke up. “Promise me something? Maybe a couple of somethings.”

I was about to ask her what my vows were supposed to be, but I kept silent when I noted the peculiar difference of scenery. I noticed on our way back that the neighborhoods were passed were not how I remembered. But then again, I wasn’t exactly coherent on our drive to the grocery store.

Since she hadn’t told me what I was to promise, I asked: “Are we heading back?”

She had a sheepish grin. “We are, just not right away. Breakfast.” As she turned the steering wheel onto a less busy cross street, I shrugged at me. “You wanna pick? I’m jus’ doing circles.”

“Oh… okay.” I hadn’t thought of that because I still took her for keeping a healthy streak ongoing. “Wait, what about the frozen foods?”

“Choose the first thing that pops in your head.” Aside from the fact that she was driving, I caught her glancing towards me. “You’re skinny as a rail.”

“I am not!” I patted my tummy to reassure myself. And when she glanced my way again, I lifted the hem of my shirt to show her the belly I had.

“Yep, skin and bones.” Now it was my turn to feel flustered and pout. “Not to worry, I’ll fatten ya up, and I’m sure if you have a little something baking in your oven, that’ll help.”

The thought of what it meant to be pregnant hit me a bit harder. I would be changing even more than I had initially thought.

“...Yeah, I suppose.” I had to wonder, ’Will that mean what she said will happen? My breasts will grow too?’

“Ya know, Adam might enjoy a taste of what’s to come. Denis loved my yummy dairy.” I jerked forward in surprise, nearly choked and sputtered a cough out, but otherwise kept quiet until I could breathe again. “Oh, ah, sorry. TMI?”

Once I recovered, I quickly changed back to an earlier topic. “Wuh-- what did you want me to promise?”

“Gimme a place to eat first, then we’ll get to that.” As if to prove all she was doing was driving in a circuit, she had just done a U-turn and gone back towards where the stripmall was located.

This was being done for my sake. But I had the suspicion she was testing me, like my choice of where to eat out would determine a characteristic of mine.

So I thought of one place I couldn’t go wrong and said, “Is the Butcher Shoppe open?”

As I watched her, I saw the brown brow raised up like she had before with her son. She begun to state: “We just went shopping --”

“Yeah, but they sometimes have cooked meals available.” Before she could counter my point, I made another dot to be connected. “And we both know their meat and produce are going to be fresh. If they just opened, might as well get it while it’s hot.”

“Heh, okay, ya got it.” And she drove off towards our next destination…

---

On our way back, I was close to dozing off from what I liked to call a food coma. I actually managed to stomach some food. It wasn’t what I expected to eat, but the sight of the meat had me drooling.

I simply couldn’t pass it up.

Once Helen had bought it, I devoured the luncheon meat before we reached her vehicle.

Instead of concern or disgust on her face, my witness to this appetite of mine had laughed.

“Ha! I thought ya looked a wee bit ravenous.” As soon as she made that comment, I unintentionally squeaked in surprise by her giving me a sneakily swift poke in the belly. “We’ll be having plenty of cheese sandwiches.”

“I -- I can add some of the cheese with the lasagna. And the bread could be used for side dishes.” That sounded like a good idea to me.

“Sounds like a fine plan. I look forward to it.” And after she said that, we hopped in and drove off with me struggling to remain awake in her passenger seat. “Clem?”

Thankfully she grabbed my attention before passing out. “Yeah?”

“Promise me…” Here was the first one from her. “If you have something on your mind, tell me. As good as I am, I’m no fortune telling Romani.”

“You mean a Gypsy?” I supposed that was irrelevant and simply stated: “Sorry. If there’s something bugging me, I will let you know.”

“Anything. It doesn’t have to bother you.” At a stop sign, instead of her checking the intersection, she turned to face me. “I’d like it if we were close. I wanna know ya.” As if she had silently questioned herself on something, she shrugged. “If ya want, I’ll exchange info?”

I thought about that and asked: “Like our deal?”

“Yeah, just like that.” Her attention returned to the road. “About that, is my boy your type?”

“Uhh…” That was a seriously good question. I was not into guys at all. “Adam is… he’s special?”

And she pushed on the one thing I had no valid answer for. “Care to give me the details?”

“He’s… I don’t really know? I mean… honestly, when I see him, I lose my marbles, and when we touch, I can’t control myself.” That was the truth, and I doubted I could dive further into why I loved him. I still felt much more interested in women than men.

At the next stop, I caught that she glanced my way before waiting her turn at the intersection. “Is it because my young kid is girly?”

“What?” I had not seen him that way.

“If it makes ya feel any better, I don’t blame you for finding an interest in a sweet man.” Now I sort of understood what she meant.

“You think a real man has to be rough and tough?” In response to me, she only nodded. “I don’t believe that. Adam has shown me he’s durable and has a keen sense of wit without having to be ’manly’ about it.”

“Ah, I didn’t mean it that way. Jus’ the big and buff is a missing ingredient in him.” She took the steering wheel single handedly and curled her free arm up in a featured strongarm pose for me. “He’s not a…” She returned both hands on the wheel and continued: “Ah, here. I regularly had visited a horse ranch. The horses would always leave through the gate. On one such visit, the fence and gate had been torn down, but I saw the horses still trotted right on through where the gate had stood.”

I shook my head in confusion on why she had brought that up. Then realized her eyes were on the road and I spoke up. “What does that mean about Adam?”

“When he was a little boy, you whipped him good and he ran from you.” She was the one now shaking her head. “The boy runs from his problems. He ran from ya this morning. He should know better… I’m sorry, but not once had my little boy had it in him to confront his demons.”

Straightening up in my seat, I point blank told her, “Adam is not a coward.”

That made her smile. “In exchange, that there is what attracts him to you. The fight he lacks is found in his woman.”

“I’m… I’m not a fighter.” I settled and leaned back into my seat to calm down.

All she said in response was, “Liar.”

“I’m serious not lying about this.” I shifted in my seat to fully face her. “I don’t --”

“Do what you’re doing now?” After she put words in my mouth, her smile only widened.

And I kept silent and slumped back in my seat. I wouldn’t admit it because I didn’t have to. If I continued to argue my point, it would prove her right, and if I told her she was right, well, that meant she was right.

In the end, I let it go and wound up dozing off all the way back...

---

When I blinked awake, I could tell we were close to my neighborhood by the sight of familiar rows of homes on the block. Glancing at Helen, I guessed she must have everything to fix that gutter.

As Helen drove us into the back alley, I busily thought about the two conversations I would be expected to engage in: The one with Helen that included me and Adam’s future, then the other would be when I’d sleep tonight and fall back into either those fiery depths or the frozen wasteland to meet with those nightmarish demons.

With the car parked, I opened my door up in time to hear the trunk pop open. I grabbed from the trunk those groceries that would need to be thrown into the freezer first. I could only hope they weren’t to badly thawed out.

Helen randomly grabbed something; at least I thought so when I saw she had her attention elsewhere. I wasn’t really sure what she had been doing.

Turning from her, I followed her gaze to the side of the house and saw a familiar lone figure standing, waving, and putting on a friendly face. In silence, I accidentally mouthed: ”Mike?”

But luckily I didn’t draw his attention my way. He appeared to be focused on Helen. I bet he was here to ask Adam about me and not to actually see if I was here.

No idea why I had bad thoughts about him, but I had them. I would have thought, after I’d seen a photo of Helen’s oldest son, Andrew, that Mike wouldn’t appear as imposing anymore. I was wrong.

Whenever I met with someone in person, rather than having seen them in a photo, the real thing had always made a bigger impression. I’ve had made that mistake often enough with the school showing off photos of the athletic sport teams, and when I met them in person, I got a truly impressive idea how they were in the flesh.

And with Mike, he had broad shoulders, a muscled chest, and chiseled abdominal muscles; he was built like a Roman statue of Mars. Entirely the embodiment of masculinity. He was much more intimidating casually relaxed rather than what I could imagine him being frustrated and tense, like he could double his size with tenacious ferocity.

His golden brows knitted as he looked down at me.

Out of the blue, he said, “Clint?”

After he said my name, which definitely sounded like he was not sure by his tone, I realized why I had ill-will vibes: He recognized me. At least, despite how much I’d had changed, he found me familiar in some way to how I once was.

I faced Helen in time to see her look and speak a direct command to me: “Take the groceries inside, Clementine.”

She emphasized on my false name thankfully.

That might have confused Mike further or confirmed I was Clint by laying that false name on thick. He was a cop, so I wasn’t sure if he detected it one way or the other.

Either way, I would not be disappointing Helen by being disobedient. I hefted a couple more bags of groceries by looping them on my wrists, balanced the weight on both arms, and started walking.

Mike had made eye contact with me. It was at that point I realized I didn’t see him through shaded lenses.

The sunglasses must have fallen in the car. Likely swallowed up in the deep recesses beside the seats.

In an instant, I believed him locking eyes with me might’ve been a good thing. In which I could’ve thrown him further off since I now had very strange dark red eyes, and if Helen was any indication, they were in some way bad.

He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but closed up and let me pass to go around the house. I thought, ’So far, so good.’

Out front, I saw the cruiser that sat by the curbside. The weight of the groceries gave me reason to not pause and stare -- they were digging into my wrists and fingers. I went in and headed straight up to the kitchen. With tingly numb fingers, I deposited the load of groceries on the dining table to sort through.

In the meantime, I figured Helen would obviously be having a talk with Mike. I wondered, ’What is she going to tell him? What is he asking her? Is this going to get Adam into trouble?’

For the moment, I needed to distract myself or all I would’ve done was worry.

Looking around the kitchen, I got reacquainted with the layout and started packing away the frozen goods into the freezer in an organized fashion. Then I moved on to the dry stuff and laid out what I would need for cooking. I wasn’t too sure if Helen recycled bags, so I just tucked one bag into the other and balled it tightly up on the table.

There were more groceries to be retrieved from the trunk of Helen’s Taurus. I wasn’t certain how good of an idea it was to go back out there.

There was a window opening onto the backyard, but I doubted it would provide me a view of what was ongoing by the garage or corner of the house. Taking a peek, I confirmed that I was right; I couldn’t see either Helen or Mike. I could hear their muffled voices through the window, but that was it.

Torn between going back out for more groceries, curiosity as to what the two were talking about, and a strong desire to be sure Mike wouldn’t be trouble, I was soon walking down the stairs to the front door. Kicking off the green flip flops, I walked out barefoot and turned around the corner of the house quickly.

The sound of their voices grew in volume as I neared.

“--cha do? Lock ‘er up till ya get d’at?” Helen sounded upset and had a thicker accent than I realized. That made me wonder where she might be originally from and what her ethnicity could possibly be.

“That would be an invasion of privacy, and no. We don’t have any cause to be bringing her with us.” Mike’s voice had the sound of defeat in it. About his tone of voice, I thought, ’Is this a good sign he’ll be leaving soon?’

“Shove off then! I beg yer pardon, but until ya get an orderly to document and sayin’ to ya otherwise, it’s tough titties for you.” I was flabbergasted at how she had talked to a police officer. “Ma’ boy is being schooled, and ma’ gal is restin’ until bettah. Get it, got it, good day!”

Despite my wariness about being recognized anymore than I had, I came out around the side of the house to casually try strolling past them for the rest of the groceries. They unfortunately stopped the conversation when they noticed me.

Instinctively, I stopped too when they stared at me like a deer caught in the headlights. I saw how Helen appeared, which was upset, and I felt sorry for being the cause.

Shifting my gaze, I caught how Mike looked at me. He wasn’t fooled. I could tell by how he continued to look less professional and more amazed when he saw me. His eyes were roaming over me like he had to search for some clue as to what might explain the unnatural sight he saw.

He absolutely recognized who I was.

But he couldn’t do anything so far. Adam’s idea, that the police were searching for a boy named Clint, not a girl called Clementine, apparently shielded me.

And that could explain their banter. Mike couldn’t believe I wasn’t Clint, but Helen probably gave him enough to rethink taking me away.

Mike locked his gaze with mine again --

-- and he flinched, looking away from me like I had slapped him. I found that odd, but...

The way he recoiled reminded me how we’d last seen each other after I had been burnt in the shower. Remembering that and having no idea what it was that caused his discomfort, I ignored him. He recovered the last time, and I believed he would now too.

How I had reacted to his disorientation wasn’t in any way to be rude towards him, just that I had other things to worry over right now than him being uncomfortable about who I might or might not be. And there was the fact he appeared to recover far faster than last time.

Besides, out of the three reasons I’d come out here, the groceries got prioritized when no one spoke. As I grabbed Helen’s share of groceries, I looked back at the two of them.

I was surprised to catch that they both were heavily sweating. When I turned to look at Helen, her eyes met mine for only a moment, she smiled, and I realized she was simply pissed off at Mike.

But when I looked back at him, I saw he could barely stand. This didn’t make sense. He was sweating bullets. Taking a step back, I looked around me in search of something that might have been the cause of his affliction.

The first time this had happened, I had initially thought it was because of my infernal daughter was messing with everyone I came into contact with. As of now, she had no way of doing that within me.

Then I began to wonder if I had been emitting a strong heat. My hands didn’t appear to be melting the bags, or else the handles I held would have broken in my grasp.

Mike looked away when I looked at him again.

The source had to be from my eyes. I thought, ’How is that possible and why is no one asking me about it?’ One would have thought there’d be questions asked right away if I caused heat waves to wash over them by simply looking in their direction.

That might have been a stretch. He only reacted when I had eye contact with him. But I thought Helen might’ve said something. Instead of that, she had her attention focused on shooing him away and off her lawn.

This reminded me too much of the nurse’s office. I was never asked what had happened to Mrs. Pureview after she fell from the seizure. Even Roger didn’t appear distraught when I’d seen him yesterday.

That was something else I should’ve asked about: how the teacher faired.

When Adam returned from school, I should ask about Mrs. Pureview’s condition. If I learned about what I’d done to Mrs. Pureview, that possibly might help me understand what was going on here.

Standing still, the bags held in both of my hands, I asked the question no one was asking. “Is there something wrong?”

Mike answered immediately. “No. I was just leaving.”

“About bloody time.” I only caught her dropping a hand back down by her side. I could only guess at what rude sign she had gestured at him. “If I see ya here to bug my boy and girl, I’ll rip ya a new arse.”

Between her and him, I had taken a step towards Helen to keep me between the two. In response to me becoming their buffer, I felt she had set a hand and softly stroked the hair on the top of my head.

Without looking at either of us, Mike bobbed his head and said, “Ladies.” Then he walked off to head for that police cruiser sitting out front.

My gaze followed after Mike until he was gone from my view.

Looking back at Helen, I saw she was breathing hard. I sat the bags down on the ground and went to take a seat next to the car with my eyelids shut. I didn’t know what that was all about, but it was intense.

Leaning back against the car, I waited until I heard her breathing recover, and even then remained seated. That would mark the first time I’d become aware I was a danger to people.

Honestly, I should have realized that was the case when I was scorching those Hellish limbs off of me. There was no way for me to tell when I would burn up like that again. I guessed fear had caused me to become hot as fire. Then, I guessed again, when someone made me feel uncomfortable, my gaze reflected and multiplied that discomfort hotly.

“Clem, ya okay?” I nodded in response, but kept my eyes shut and didn’t move. “If ya tired, I can take the rest in and ya can rest on the couch or back in bed?”

That suggestion was so very inviting, but I had to know one thing first. “Helen, what was that just now?” I opened my eyes back up and looked over in her direction. “Your girl?”

“Ah, well, you are. I’m taking care of ya.” She shrugged. “That makes me responsible for you.”

That also troubled me. I remember her distinctly saying I couldn’t be perceived as her daughter for a very good reason: I didn’t exist. But then again, I could’ve been jumping the gun.

I had to ask, “So according to what you told him, what am I?” All she did was nibble on her bottom lip and look away in askance. “Helen?”

She inhaled deeply enough to provocatively raise her chest up, then sighed with a guilty grin. In a sorry tone, she stated: “Daughter?” I pushed off her vehicle and stared at her in disbelief. Both her hands raised with their open palms directed defensively towards me. “In due time, sticking around my boy would eventually make ya mine, right? By law, but for now… let’s settle with us practicin’ new roles?”

To be sure, I asked: “I should call you Mom?”

With a held up shrug, she confirmed with a: “Yeah? If it is too much, maybe whenever we’re in public?”

For a whole different reason than a moment earlier, I leaned back against the Taurus and closed my eyes again. This was frustratingly exhausting.

But it was by far more welcomed than what I feared my transformation was making me capable of doing onto others. I could accidentally harm people.

How I felt right now wasn’t right. I had possibly hurt two people without either being aware of it. I wondered if maybe they’d shrugged it off as nothing more than a sudden hot flash. Mike at least had.

But the reason that made me feel unwell was because I didn’t know how far my harming them could have gone without them becoming alarmed. He hadn’t reacted until I’d spoken. If I had kept my mouth shut, I thought, ’Like Mrs. Pureview, would Mike have collapsed too?’

For a moment, I opened my eyes to look up at Helen. There was no reaction like before, just her concern. “I’m fine,” I said as Helen offered me a hand to get back on my feet. “Just was --”

“Hot?” She mocked a sweaty swipe on her forehead as she nodded. “Ah, yeah, your fever. Let’s get ya back inside.” She picked up the groceries too quickly for me to grab any and waited for me to walk beside her before we walked back in.

Once inside, most of the groceries were fully put away, while the items needed to make dinner were set up for me on the table in a readied and organized display. I was glad to have had eaten something or I likely would’ve taken to the bed right away.

I was still tired, but I felt better than I had on an empty stomach.

There was a queer thought on my mind. While I washed my hands, I looked at Helen one more time -- assuring our eyes locked in the process -- and tested to see if I had any abnormal affect on her.

“Jus’ checking out whatcha got here.” Helen smiled at me behind a spice jar we’d picked up from the grocery store. I supposed she thought I wondered what she was doing. “Ah, hmmm… Are we really gonna be able to taste the parsley with all that cheese?”

My initial thought had retreated into the backburner of my mind as I laughed a little lightly and informed her: “Don’t inhale your food and you might.”

“I can see the black pepper being tasted, maybe the garlic, but ya got oregano, basil, thyme… Oh my God, rosemary?” She held up a container of the rosemary I’d snuck into the cart. I shrugged and nodded.

“I’m cooking it the way Rosalie said they cooked it. We’ll see how it turns out.” After I told her that, her jaw dropped.

Helen pointed at herself and said, “Guinea pigs?”

Now it was my turn. Sheepishly, I smiled while busily collecting what dishes I required. At least, I was in search for those dishes.

I sensed her leaning and looking over my shoulder. “Whatcha after?”

“Measuring cups. Need it for three sauces and when we cut up the onions into itty bitty tiny pieces.” Just when I said that, I found the glass Pyrex measuring cups. “Never mind, found them.”

“Why not nab a bowl for the onions?” I glanced back and saw her rolling in her hand, in an inspection, one of the white onions. “Jus’ measure it out in spoonfuls if ya gonna mince ‘em.”

I thought about that, nodded, and liked the idea. “Sounds like a good idea.” It would be more precise with each scoop rather than trying to level the pieces inside of a container.

“Ah, what about the garlic?” She held up a bulb of garlic pinched between her fingers.

“Oh, yeah, that too. Just like the onions.” I shrugged again and confessed: “I forgot.”

The tiny bulb was set down on the table as she leaned in to catch my attention with a stare. I looked, then she spoke up. “I’m okay with eating an experiment, but be sure to know what ya doing.”

I sighed out a laugh and said, “Sorry. Usually I have all of this written down.”

“Write it down. You’re cooking something more complicated than a cheesy lasagna. Make a plan on paper and go at it, step-by-step.” She leaned away, but I felt her stare still on me. When I looked back at her, she smiled and stated: “Ah, ya know, life’s more complicated. Ya can write down a plan for that too. Maybe later?” Helen made sure I knew what she was talking about. “One for yer life and kid. And ah, see if ya can squeeze my boy in there?”

Nodding, I gave her a full smile before returning back to cooking. It was nice to know I was being observed by a good supervisor. A mom. Made me feel like I couldn’t make a mistake...