Chapter 9: The Turn

“They’ll be here first thing tomorrow, honey,” Duncan said. “Go to bed.” Their house did not, strictly speaking, have a living room. Two bedrooms, a bathroom, a study and a kitchen was about it, but the kitchen was large enough at least for a degree of comfort. Well, comfort for Duncan. The television on the kitchen counter was playing a rerun of the 2004 World Series, not because anyone in the house cared a particularly great deal for baseball, but because it drowned out any other noise. If the television was on, you didn’t talk to Duncan Porter. House rules, that. 

Well, usually. Linda was a little fussy over sending their son away but that was sort of understandable and so he made at least a little bit of effort not to sound too annoyed with her. “Yes, dear,” Linda said as she went back into the bedroom. Duncan looked at the clock. It was close to midnight. He wasn’t planning on staying up too long; he wanted to be there for when they came to take Matthew to the camp, if only to make sure he was actually on the bus. 

There was a knock on the kitchen door. Hands in his loops, Officer Daniels nodded at him from outside. Duncan Porter clenched his jaw and got up. Of course, not everyone knew about his quiet time, and he did respect law enforcement too much to vocally complain about having to get up. 

He unlatched the door. “Evening, Officer.”

“Evening, Sir. Sorry to bother you again at this time of night.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Duncan lied. “How can I help you?”

“I got a report tonight that your son attacked someone earlier today.” The police officer held his hands up defensively when Mister Porter immediately bristled. “I know, I know, he was here with you all night. That’s why I wanted to get a statement from you.” He stepped past Duncan and looked around. “I’d rather not wake your wife up. Would you mind stepping out with me?”

“Is this going to take very long?” Duncan asked, his desire to abide by law enforcement coming into stark conflict with his lack of patience and desire to have a beer before going to bed and having several weeks, if not months, of quiet.

“Not at all, Sir. Maybe a few minutes at most.” They walked through the kitchen and stepped out the back door. Because the screen door fell closed behind them, Duncan didn’t hear the kitchen front door open almost as soon as they were out of sight, and Duncan stepped inside, looking around like it was his first time ever setting foot in the kitchen, which, of course he had. 

Following the little map drawn on his hand, he walked through the kitchen into the little hall, and into the first door on the left. Linda Porter sat under the covers, reading a magazine. She looked up at him and gave him the kind of smile that people who work desk jobs are very good at. “I’m sorry for bothering you earlier, honey,” she said. 

Duncan shook his head. “About that,” he said. “I wanted to talk. Take a walk with me.”

Even as she questioned him, she stepped out of bed and put on her slippers. “Take a walk? Honey, it’s been years. What’s up?” Duncan grunted and walked back into the kitchen, although he did throw a glance at the door at the end of the hall, the one with the two latches on it. 

“Well, with Matthew going away for a bit,” he said as he stepped out the front and sniffed the evening air, “I think you and I will have a bit more time together. I think maybe it’s time we do some of the things we haven’t done in years, you know?”

Linda smiled as she sidled up to him. “Honey… Duncan… I didn’t know you still…” Before she could slip her arm through his or slip her fingers into his, he walked down the street, staring straight ahead. She tried to keep up. 

Behind her, Linda Porter slipped into the house as quietly as she could, clutching what looked like a coin in her fingers. She looked at a little map drawn on the palm of her empty hand, and mumbled to herself. “Okay. Left is their room. Straight ahead is—“

“Honey?” Duncan said. “What are you doing up?” Linda spun around and looked at her husband. He took a sip from his beer.

“Oh, I, uh, I thought I heard something,” she said, holding her hands behind her back. 

“That was me. The police officer was here again, wanted to get a statement from me about something a kid who looked like Matt did.”

“But Matty’s—”

“I know,” he said. “So I told him to buzz off and I came back inside as soon as I could blow him off. I’m not freezing my nuts off tonight for something that has nothing to do with us.” He downed his beer. “Go back to bed. I’ll be right there. I’m not in the mood to spend the rest of the night in front of the television.” As he turned around, Linda visibly gulped, eyeing the bedroom door at the end of the hall, looked at her hand, and then obediently went into the bedroom. A minute later, Duncan stepped in too, just in time for them to hear a noise from his study across the hall. 

As Duncan stepped into the room to check, it looked like it had been nothing, although he’d check for a raccoon tomorrow. As he stepped into the hall, Linda led the way for two older women with a cross around their necks. They reminded Duncan of his mother, though one of them was clearly older and stricter than even she had been. Good. She looked like she wasn’t afraid to whip out a ruler or a switch. Behind them stood the police officer. 

He raised his eyebrows. “You got here fast,” he said. 

Linda frowned. “Well, you went inside, so…”

“It wasn’t far,” the younger of the church women said.

“Hum,” Duncan said, then at the two ladies. “You must be here for him?”

“Young Matthew, yes,” the strict one said. “I’m Sister Helena. This is Sister Martha. We said we would be here at the earliest.” She retrieved a pocket watch from her jacket. “I think we may have outdone ourselves, Martha. Haha.” Her laugh was drier than a parking lot. The other woman responded with the exact same kind of laugh, and Duncan wondered if they were actual sisters.

“Haha,” Sister Martha said. “We’d rather stop by at around this time.” She leaned forward, conspiratorially looking between Linda and Duncan. “It keeps the neighbors from asking too many questions.”

“We’re very discreet,” Sister Helena said. “Haha.”

“Haha,” Martha said as she walked past him to the bedroom. “In here?”

“Yes. Officer,” Duncan said to Officer Daniels, straining to keep his annoyance from slipping between his teeth. “Good to see you again.”

“You too, sir,” he said. “My partner and I were on patrol, I saw the van parked out front, and I offered my assistance in case the little guy gives you some trouble.” He looked at the two women. “Y’all do the lord’s work, ladies.”

“Thank you, young man,” the oldest one chuckled while her Sister undid the latches.

“I appreciate that,” Duncan said. “And I appreciate the subtlety, ma’am.” 

Sister Martha opened the door while Sister Helena stacked up behind her. She looked around. “There’s nobody h—” she said, just as Helena pointed into the study. 

“He’s in here!” The old woman’s voice was like the screech of a dying parrot. “He’s trying to get out of the window!” Officer Daniels pushed past her into the room and grabbed the boy, who was pulling at the latch, shoving an arm behind his back. 

Duncan swore under his breath, and then profusely apologized to the old ladies as the police officer shoved Matthew Porter into the hallway. “I don’t know how you got out of your room, Matthew,” he said to his son, “but by the time you get back here, you bet I will search every inch of your room, and I will find whatever secret exit you’ve built for yourself.”

“Don’t worry, sir,” Sister Helena said as she put her hands on Matthew’s shoulders, her bony fingers digging into his shirt. It looked painful. Duncan nodded appreciatively. “We’re going to make sure he’s safe and well taken care of for a while.”

“Yeah,” Duncan said. “Don’t bring him back until you’ve fixed him.” He looked down at Matt, who stared at the floor without saying anything. 

“We will do what we can to help him,” Sister Martha said. “Between us and the lord, a rebellious spirit usually bends to the truth.”

“Amen,” Sister Helena said as she pushed the child to the front door. “Do you want to come with us to wave him off?” 

“I’ll do it,” Duncan said. “I want to wave him off.” He was lying. He wanted to make absolutely sure Matthew didn’t get away and made a run for it. He didn’t want to leave the kid out of his sight until the door of the car closed with him standing next to it. Linda wrung her hands together. 

“I think I’d prefer to go to bed,” she said.

“Your child is going to go through a positive change, Mrs. Porter,” Sister Martha said. “But as a mother, it is normal for you to mourn the child your Matthew used to be. And everyone mourns in different ways.” She took Linda’s hand in her own and patted the back of it, before walking out with the others, leaving Mattie’s mom to go into the bedroom and sit on the edge of the bed. A minute later, Officer Daniels stepped into the doorframe. 

“Try to get some rest, ma’am. Your son is in good hands.” He looked into Matthew’s room. “Officer Shane O’Donell,” he said, then smiled apologetically at Linda. “Sorry, my partner wanted to make sure the room is safe for when he comes back. Have a good night, ma’am.” 

The man in question walked past Officer Daniels with a nod and a “Ma’am” to Linda. The others walked outside and down the driveway, where a gray van was parked next to a police cruiser. Officer O’Donell leaned on the hood of the cruiser, sipping his coffee as he waved at the people walking past.

“Looks like my job here is done,” Officer Daniels said. “Glad I could be of service. Sir. Ladies.” He touched his cap as he got back into his car, his partner joining him a second later. 

Sister Martha opened the door to the van and pushed Matthew inside, did his seatbelt, and closed the door. “Child lock,” she said with a smile to Duncan as sister Helena crawled behind the wheel. “Are you satisfied, sir?”

“I’ll be satisfied,” Duncan said, “when he comes back in a few months and he’s a normal, regular boy again.” 

“Of course, sir,” Sister Martha said as she also got into the van. After a few false starts, the van took off, and Duncan went back inside. Linda had closed the bedroom door — without Matthew here, there was no need to keep it open, after all. He crawled into bed, and sighed a very deep, relieved sigh. It was over. His Matthew was in good hands. Duncan Porter closed his eyes and slept and slept a dreamless sleep. 

He wasn’t aware, of course, that not far down the road, a van with two old ladies and a young man in the backseat drove into the darkness. All three of them gave each other quiet but meaningful glances. Meaningful glances turned into brief panic when two police officers stepped out onto the street to flag them down, and the van almost crashed as they veered off the road and onto the shoulder.