Monday July 30, 2012
Terrence’s Charger- Exit 27, Interstate 465
Indianapolis, Indiana
3:11 PM Local Time
“Right or left, Theresa?” Terrence Thompson asked as he pulled the car off the Interstate, decelerating as the 1971 Charger came down the exit ramp.
There was a short pause, as the little girl in the back seat thought it over before replying. “Right.”
Wendy smiled, glancing over her shoulder at her daughter as the Charger came to a halt, behind a long line of cars waiting to turn onto Michigan Avenue. “Nice job Theresa.” She glanced over at Terrence, who was also smiling in approval. It was a game that she and Terrence had been playing with her daughter for a couple of months now, hoping to teach her about the neighborhood she lived in, and how to tell directions.
“So how do we get home from here, Theresa?” Terrence asked as he turned the car onto Michigan, continuing the game.
The pause in the back was longer. “Left onto Payne…”
“Na-ah-ah,” Terrence interrupted her. “Now we’re lost and starving to death…”
Wendy rolled her eyes, giving her husband an exasperated look, and turned around, reaching back and patting her daughter on the knee. “You forgot a street, hon. Remember… we’re on Michigan.”
Theresa thought long and hard… “Oh!” She exclaimed. “86th! Then left on Payne… and a right on Wabash, and then we’re home!”
“Very good!” Wendy grinned, although couldn’t help but give a wistful sigh. Home was just minutes away, and the butterflies in her stomach were starting to settle in. She would be both relieved and anxious to pull in front of the house.
After all, barely a week ago, she had been wondering if she ever would see it again.
She turned back towards the front of the car, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, regretting for perhaps the hundredth time her decision to fly straight to Seattle after her ordeal in Belfast. She had thought that immersing herself directly into the festivities surrounding Unstoppable 3 would help her take her mind off from what happened there. She had been wrong, dead wrong, and had it not been for her manager quickly cancelling all of her appearances, and sequestering her for a couple hours, she would have melted down in humiliating fashion. Even as it was, she had said more than she had wanted to, and regretted the outbursts she’d had.
At least she had won. Beating Tara Thunder hardly made up for the rotten week she’d had. But at least it hadn’t been a loss. Considering how tired and worn out she had felt in victory, she almost didn’t want to think about how she’d be feeling at the moment if she had gone down in defeat.
“You alright, hon?” The voice of her husband broke into her thoughts, and she glanced over at him.
“Yeah, sorry,” she replied. “Just zoned out for a second.”
“I was telling you that right before we got Theresa’s school info on Friday, right before we left,” Terrence said, with the aura of someone who was repeating a statement.
“Oh. Well, that’s great!” Wendy replied, smiling slightly, and glancing back at her daughter.
“Ms. Savage is her teacher,” Terrence continued, although he gave Wendy a look of concern. “Sounds like a real toughie, doesn’t she?”
Wendy smiled, and glanced back at Theresa, who suddenly looked somewhat cross. “Why does summer have to be so short?” the six year old complained.
Terrence chuckled, looking back at his daughter via the rear view mirror. “In fifteen years, you won’t even GET a summer, Theresa. So be glad for what you have now.”
Wendy turned around, consolingly. “At least you’ll get to start a couple days late, hon. You’re coming with me to London and Belfast. You want to see the Olympics. We’ll get to go to the last couple days of the Olympics, and see two absolutely beautiful cities. Doesn’t that sound like a fun way to end the summer?”
Theresa nodded slightly, some of her enthusiasm returned. Wendy turned back towards the front, and was surprised to see that they had already turned onto Wabash Circle. It wasn’t long before the two story house that the Thompson family called home appeared on the right hand side, and Terrence pulled into the driveway, shutting the car off. “And home!” the race-car driver declared, opening the door, and pushing his seat forward to let his daughter climb out.
While the homecoming was casual for her husband and daughter, to Wendy it was anything but. Terrence and Theresa hadn’t even been gone for forty-eight hours, flying out to Seattle on Saturday morning. For Wendy, it had nearly been a week since she had seen the house, and one of the most rotten, horrible weeks she had ever had in her life at that. She took a deep breath, and got out of the car, walking towards the house along with her family.
Even though Terrence had left the air conditioner on, the house was somewhat stuffy when they walked inside, having been shut up for a couple days. Wendy took a deep breath, and looked around the foyer, with the staircase rising to the left, and the hallway towards the kitchen ahead of her, and the living room opening up on the left. A pungent smell reached her nostrls, and she wrinkled her nose, taking a step towards the downstairs bathroom, then turning around, and looking at her husband. “You forgot to empty the litter-box before you left, didn’t you?”
And then she burst into tears.
“Mom?” she could hear the alarm in her daughter’s voice, and hated herself for upsetting her so.
“Theresa, go upstairs for a bit, would you? I think Mommy’s just a little tired, okay?”
“But…”
“Just go, Theresa!” Terrence’s voice was still gentle, but much firmer. “I’ll let you help me unpack the car later, okay?”
Wendy heard the footsteps of her daughter trudging reluctantly up the stairs, and felt her husband’s arms around her, holding her up and turning her towards him. He embraced her, lightly stroking her hair as she continued to sob into his shoulder. She didn’t know how long he stood there holding her, but her tearducts were dry, her eyes red and puffy, and her throat croaky by the time she pulled her head away.
“Come on,” Terrence told her gently, guiding her towards the living room, and over to the couch. She plopped down on the couch, and he kissed her forehead. “I’ll be just a second,” he whispered, quickly disappearing into the kitchen. He was true to his word, returning less than a minute later with two Raspberry Tea snapples, and a dishtowel. “Here you go.” He said quietly, setting the bottle on the end table next to her, and handing her the towel.
The towel was damp with cold water, and Wendy smeared it over her face, cooling herself and washing away the tears. “Thanks,” she mumbled, dabbing at her eyes.
“No problem,” Terrence had sat down next to her, twisting open his own bottle of tea as he did. He smiled meekly. “I’m sorry I forgot to clean out the catbox.”
Wendy laughed weakly. “It’s not that. It’s-“
“I know,” Terrence said, putting his arm around her. “Honestly, I’m surprised it took this long.”
“It didn’t. I cried at the police station, and again in Seattle, after Pollaski confi- after I blew up at Jo.” Wendy replied with a croak. “I didn’t want to do it in front of Theresa, but… coming in here. Seeing everything, smelling… just feeling it. Realizing that I was finally home, after…”
“Your ordeal,” Terrence finished gently, reaching out and holding her hand.
“Yeah,” Wendy agreed. She looked up. “When I was tied to that chair… all I could think about was you and Theresa. And I kept seeing my daughter standing over my coffin, and she couldn’t even look at me, because what happened was so hideous that…” she took a deep shuddering breath. “I thought I was going to die, Terrence. And, I still don’t know how I didn’t.”
“The grace of God, I guess,” Terrence said, smiling softly.
Wendy abruptly turned away, biting her lower lip, and taking another deep, shuddering breath. “I sure showed my appreciation for that grace, didn’t I? My life is spared, and I use it to take someone else’s. Maybe it’d have been for the better if-”
“Don’t you *DARE* say it...“
“I killed a man, Terrence!” Wendy exclaimed, fresh tears leaking from her eyes. “’Thou shalt not kill.’ It’s the sixth commandment, for crying out loud, and I went a shot a guy in the head!”
“Thou shalt not *murder*, Wendy,” Terrence corrected. “That was not murder, by any stretch of the imagination. It was self-defense.”
Wendy shook her head. “Call it whatever… I still took the life, of another-“
“And I, for one, am pretty fucking grateful you did,” Terrence replied fiercely. “I talked to the police, Wendy. They told me that Delaney would have fired within a quarter of a second.” He snapped his fingers twice. “That’s how close you came to dying. That’s how close I came to losing you. That’s how close Theresa came to losing her mother. That’s how close all your friends in FFW came to turning Unstoppable into a memorial show. You think THAT’S what would have been better?”
Wendy paused, head bowed, as she realized how selfish her lament had been. More tears leaked from her eyes, and she used the towel to wipe them away.
Terrence’s own voice was shaky now. “That man… no, fuck it. You didn’t shoot a man. That *creature* you shot was going to kill hundreds of people for a political idea that died ten years ago. You really think that the world would have been a better place had he shot first?”
Wendy shook her head, sniffling as she did. “I guess, I don’t know…”
Terrence cupped his hand under her chin, and forced her to look at him. When she did, he took both her hands in his. “You did the right thing, Wendy. I don’t know a lot about this, but of *that* I am certain. But I know it’s hard. And no one is expecting you to come to grips with this overnight. I want you to get through this, and I want to help you get through this. But… I don’t know how.”
“I don’t either,” Wendy replied, sighing.
“I think you should take some time off from FFW. Just this cycle. Stay home, recover.”
Wendy shook her head. “But Terry, what about taking Theresa to London? You saw how excited she was…”
“Yeah, she’ll be disappointed if she doesn’t go. But Wendy, I’m more worried about what’s going to happen if you DO go. Especially to Belfast”
“I’ll be fine.”
“And that’s EXACTLY what you said when you went straight to Seattle.” Terrence replied firmly.
“This is different,” Wendy insisted. “Seattle was going to be stressful enough as it was, with Unstoppable. The only thing I’ll be doing is surrendering one of my titles, and waiting to see if I made the Mafia team for War Games. Other than that, it’ll be a nice, relaxing time…”
She could tell from her husband’s eyes that he didn’t truly believe that. She wasn’t so certain it was true herself, but she didn’t want to think about letting her daughter down. “I can’t just go and hide from all of this. Life does go on, right? I have to live it.”
“Not unprepared and vulnerable, which is what I think you are for this.” Terrence stood up, and walked towards the bay window that sat at the front of the living room, looking outside. “Whether or not you do go or not, and I still don’t think you should, I want you to get help. See someone. I don’t want this haunting you the rest of your life.”
“It probably will, no matter what.” Wendy replied somberly. “I don’t see how seeing-“
“I don’t care,” Terrence responded, turning around. “You deserved to live, Wendy. And you deserve to be happy with the life you bought with your actions that night. Just promise me, Wendy. For your sake, and mine, you’ll see somebody.”
Wendy paused for just a second. “I promise. I’ll start looking for a… suitable therapist.”
Terrence sighed, mostly with relief at his wife’s relatively rapid acquiescence on the matter. “Thank you,” he whispered, pulling her into him, and embracing her, and pressing his lips to hers. Again, they held each other for a long time, pressed together.
“Well,” Terrence said as they finally broke apart. “Guess I better get Theresa and get the car unloaded.”
“I’ll help.” Wendy offered.
“No, you just sit down. We can handle it, and you need the rest,” Terrence insisted.
Wendy relented, and plopped back down on the sofa, finally getting a chance to open her Snapple. Terrence, meanwhile, walked over to the stairs, and hollered up. “Hey Terr-Bear! Come on and help me unload the car.” He turned back to Wendy, grinning. “Shame by the time she’s old enough to actually be effective, she’ll no longer want to do it.”
Wendy smiled back, but before she could reply, Theresa came back down the stairs, albeit looking somewhat disgusted.
“Mom, the cat pooped upstairs.”
Wendy closed her eyes, and sighed, rising from her chair. “I better go clean it up, then,” she muttered.
“Oh, he’s already doing that.” Theresa informed her, giggling. “He’s eating it back up.”
“OH NO HE IS NOT!” Wendy shrieked, sprinting from the couch towards the stairs in literally about two seconds. She barreled up the stairs. “BAD KITTY!”
Terrence smiled to himself as he watched his wife bolt up the stairs. Despite what had happened, it was nice to see that some element of normalcy still existed. “Come on, Theresa,” he said, grabbing his daughter’s shoulder and guiding her towards the front door. “Let’s get this finished.”
“Is Mom okay?”
Terrence looked down at his daughter, and smiled. “She's just tired. She's okay now,” he replied. Or at least she would be, in the long run.
He hoped.
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