I used to think I was a good father.
I did everything I could to protect and provide for my family. I worked odd jobs to supplement my measly pastor’s salary, so that the girls could be raised at home by their mother. I took out the best home and health insurance policies we could afford, so that none of us would have to worry about money, should disaster strike. I tried to prevent such disasters. I made sure we had safe cars and strong locks, batteries in the smoke detectors and baby gates on the stairs.
I checked the backs of closets and underneath beds for monsters. I caught little girls who were afraid to jump into the water. I held onto the seats of wobbly bicycles without training wheels, reassuring their riders I wouldn’t let them fall. I knew, even then, that I wouldn’t be able to protect them from everything. Sooner or later, I would have to let go, and they would probably fall. They might even skin a knee or an elbow. But if they did, I would be there to kiss away their tears and put a band-aid on their scrapes.
My family believed I could fix anything, and I believed I could too. I had God on my side; my faith in Him was strong. I knew my God would never punish me with a problem too big for me to solve. But I underestimated the power of evil. The monster that can’t be seen, even with the lights on. The monster that strikes swiftly and silently. The monster that takes no prisoners and leaves no survivors.
I couldn’t protect them from that.
Friday, April 13, 2012
4:00 p.m.
“Out of state license plate! No pinchbacks!”
“Owww! Daddy, Brooke pinched me!”
“It’s an out of state license plate! Right in front of us, look! Isn’t it an out of state license plate, Daddy?”
Brian glanced up into the rearview mirror and saw his daughter on her knees in the center of the backseat, pointing straight ahead. “Brooke Lynn, you get back in that seatbelt right now, you hear me?”
“Okay, but Daddy, look in front of us! Isn’t it?”
Brian watched until he saw her blonde head bob out of sight and heard the click of the belt; then his eyes shifted to the car in front of them in the McDonald’s drive-thru line. “Yep, it is, baby. Can you read what state it is?”
“Not now that I’m buckled up again!” Brooke complained.
Brian heard another click and was about to scold her for unbuckling again, when Bonnie’s face poked between the two front seats instead. She squinted ahead at the light blue plates. “So… Soo… ow!”
“That’s right,” Brian encouraged, before realizing the “ow!” had come only because Brooke had unbuckled again and shoved Bonnie aside.
“Let me try!” she shouted, her head appearing where Bonnie’s had been. “S… South? South Cuh-… Cay-ro… Carolina! South Carolina, Daddy?”
“That’s right, baby. Good reading,” Brian praised her. Brooke’s first grade teacher had said she was already reading above her grade level, thanks to all the time Brian and Leighanne had spent reading stories to her and listening to Bonnie and her read to them. Bonnie was somewhat behind, but Brian was convinced she would catch up eventually. They were identical twins; their abilities couldn’t be that much different, could they?
If academic ability was anything like personality, he knew they very well could be. Despite looking alike, each just as angelically blonde and blue-eyed as the other, Brooke and Bonnie’s temperaments were inherently different. Brooke was loud, outgoing, and bossy, while Bonnie tended to be reserved and submissive. Until Brooke started pushing her around too much, Brian thought with a smirk, turning around to look at her, sulking in her seat. Then she could whine and holler louder than her twin.
“I could’ve gotten it,” Bonnie huffed, in full pout.
“I know, baby. South Carolina’s a big one.”
“Not too big for me, Daddy!” Brooke spouted triumphantly.
Brian pressed his lips together, not replying. He was relieved when the South Carolinians finally pulled forward, allowing him to inch the car up to the window. To a seven-year-old, a Happy Meal could fix any problem, including hurt feelings and an overbearing twin sister.
“Thanks,” he said to the drive-thru worker who handed him the two small sacks and a couple of kid-size drinks. He passed the drinks back to the girls and kept the sacks in the front… they could wait till they got to the church to dig into their french fries.
“Have a nice day,” muttered the drive-thru guy, sniffling. Taking in his appearance in a second glance, Brian noticed the paleness of his skin, the hollows in his cheeks, and the circles under his bloodshot eyes, and wondered if he was a drug user. He’d heard about people dealing drugs through drive-thru windows before. The thought made him think twice about giving the girls their Happy Meals.
As he pulled away, Brian regretted his unchristian thoughts. Maybe the poor kid was just sick. And anyway, he’d never hear the end of it if he deprived Brooke and Bonnie of their much-anticipated McNuggets now. McDonald’s was a rare treat in the Littrell family, one the girls had been looking forward to since they’d gotten off the bus after school that afternoon. Leighanne didn’t usually let them eat fast food, but since she was setting up for the weekend church bazaar that night, she’d made an exception.
Once Brian had parked in the circular drive outside Calvary Hill Baptist Church, the twins skipped ahead of him into the fellowship hall, carrying their Happy Meals. The normally sparse, open room was now taken up by rows of long, rectangular tables. Most were still empty, but a few of the vendors had already shown up to start setting up their booths for the bazaar that started tomorrow morning.
The girls found Leighanne quickly, and Brian saw that she had staked out a prime spot for herself, on the end of one of the center rows. It would be hard for the browsers to miss her table of handbags. “Lookin’ good, sweetheart,” he greeted her, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
“Thanks, hon,” she replied, standing back to admire her handiwork. She’d quit work to raise the twins, and in the seven years since, designing and making handbags had become her hobby. She was a regular at the fabric store. She rented a small booth at a little antiques and crafts shop downtown, and she’d even started selling some of her creations on Ebay. She had quite the collection going, realized Brian, his eyes panning across the rows of colorful purses. And each one an original.
“Can we eat now?” Brooke interrupted them, rustling her McDonald’s sack.
“Go for it,” said Brian. He looked around. “There’s a couple of chairs over there.” He pointed. “Go drag them over here so you’ll have a place to sit.” He watched the girls scramble off for the pair of folding chairs, and turned back to his wife. “What do you need me to do?”
“Well…” She considered this for a moment. “I’m about set up here, and those high school boys from the youth group got the tables up in record time. There are some other vendors with trucks out front, bringing in their merchandise. Why don’t you see if you can contribute a little manpower?”
“Alright.” Brian strolled back to the front of the church, where he saw some middle-aged ladies unloading trailers and vans. “Can I lend a hand, ladies?” he offered.
He’d been shuttling back and forth with armloads of “stuff” – boxes of hand-dipped candles, bags of homemade candies, piles of embroidered sweatshirts, cases of hand-crafted jewelry – for half an hour when Brooke came shuffling up. “Daddy, I don’t feel good,” she whined.
“Did you tell Mommy?” was his automatic response.
“Bonnie’s with Mommy. She doesn’t feel good either.”
That struck Brian as strange. It was common for the twins to get sick one right after the other, but not at the exact same time. He suspected this might be a conspiracy to go home early; they were likely bored, now that they’d finished their dinner. But he had to humor Brooke before he could call her on this.
“Really? What hurts, baby?”
“My tummy… and my head… and all over.” Brooke sniffled, on the verge of tears.
“Ah…” Brian had to hide his smirk as he reached out to feel her forehead, prepared to tell her she felt perfectly normal and that, surely, she and Bonnie would live until Mommy and Daddy were done at the church. So he was surprised when he felt the heat radiating from his daughter’s forehead before his hand even touched it. Disturbed, he pressed his palm quickly to her head; her skin felt like the inside of an oven. “Baby, you’re burning up!” he exclaimed, kneeling down to her level and gazing into her eyes with concerned. For the first time, he noticed the flush in her cheeks, the paleness everywhere else. “Did you feel sick at school today?”
“No… just since now,” Brooke replied miserably.
“Okay… come on…” Brian scooped her up and carried her on his hip back into the church, where he found Leighanne sitting with Bonnie on her lap. She had made the same discovery as Brian; a look of mutual understanding passed between them as he approached. “Think we oughta get these girls home?” he asked her.
She nodded. “Home and into bed,” she said, tweaking the tip of Bonnie’s nose. “We might need to find a sitter for tomorrow, unless you want to stay home with them.”
“And miss the bazaar?” asked Brian, hope blossoming in his chest. He felt obligated to oversee the thing, since it was sponsored annually by his church, but the prospect of having a valid excuse to skip it this year was a thrilling one. “I’d hate to do that, but if they’re contagious, we also don’t want to subject a babysitter to getting sick, do we? I may have to take one for the team.”
He was a horrible actor; he knew Leighanne didn’t buy it for one minute, but she played along. “Oh, I guess you’re right… Maybe you will have to stay home just this once. I know what a disappointment that will be for you.” She winked, her blue eyes twinkling, and he offered a sheepish smile.
They piled the twins into the car and drove home. Leighanne tucked the girls into bed, while Brian filled two cups with ginger ale and brought them upstairs. Leighanne had already fetched the thermometer from the bathroom and was taking temperatures.
“102.3,” she frowned, shooting Brian a look of concern as she rested her hand on Bonnie’s head. “Maybe we should have taken them straight to the doctor instead.”
“It’s Friday evening, babe. Not even those doc-in-a-box places are gonna be open now. Let’s just get through the night and see how they feel in the morning,” Brian said, reassuringly. He wasn’t overly worried. He knew kids… they ran fevers at the drop of a hat, especially when it was late in the day. It was probably just a stomach bug. They’d spend Saturday lying in bed, and by Sunday, they’d be up and on the move again.
Leighanne agreed. She pulled “Curious George Goes to the Hospital” off the bookshelves – the girls’ favorite when they were sick and feeling sorry for themselves – but when she sat down to read it, Brooke howled, “No, Daddy, you read it!!” Leighanne looked slightly wounded, but managed a smile as she handed the book over to Brian, who was preferred by the twins because he did funny voices and sound effects when he read.
So Brian read the story, and the girls settled down. Halfway through, Brooke sat up and vomited up her Happy Meal, and Leighanne cleaned up. Brian finished reading the story to a whimpering Brooke and a whining Bonnie, and they finally settled down again, drifting off into a feverish sleep. Meanwhile, Leighanne started a load of laundry downstairs.
By the time all of this was done, it was getting dark, and Brian and Leighanne had missed both the five o’clock and the six o’clock news. They didn’t know it yet, but they would miss the eleven o’clock news, too.
By then, it would be too late.
