Not a Chance(92)

Travis leaned toward Arden. "I called Shannon. She said Emily's doing fine and not to worry."

Arden smiled at him. "That's good. Were you worried?"

Travis scrunched his face up a bit. "She's got that little sniffle. I just hope taking her out in the cold today didn't make it worse."

Arden managed with great difficulty not to laugh. "You're adorable," she said.

His concern immediately vanished as he smiled at her. "Well thank you," he said.

They got about two bites into their dinner when Travis suddenly jumped. He dug in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He got up and walked out of the dining room as he answered his phone. Arden dabbed her lips with her napkin and then followed him out.

He was standing in the hall, a look of intense concentration on his face. "Just calm down, Edna," he said. "Uh-huh. Okay. Okay, I said. Just call the police and I'll be right over."

He hung up and looked at Arden, an apology already on his face.

"What is it?" Arden asked.

"A problem with Duane. I won't be gone long. A half an hour."

"Okay," Arden said.

She kissed him and he left.





Travis was gonna beat the shit out of that boy. He drove Arden's Miata through town and South towards the trailer park where Vicki Nixon lived with her mother, Edna. He hoped the police would already be there so he wouldn't have to deal with it. But there was nobody. Travis could hear the sound of glass breaking and people shouting as soon as he stepped out of the car.

He jogged up the porch steps and knocked on the trailer door. He didn't wait for an answer. As soon as he walked in his instincts kicked in and he ducked as a cheap, porcelain statuette flew across the trailer. Edna had hurled it at Duane who was in the kitchen shouting at Vicki.

The place was disgusting. It smelled like weed and there were beer and whiskey bottles littering the floor. Vicki's face was pink and swollen. She was screaming and cowering. Duane was shouting profanities at her. Travis looked down and saw why she was cowering. He was holding a huge kitchen knife.

All Travis saw when he looked at Vicki was his own mother's face all the many times she'd been on her knees begging her husband to stop hitting her. All those times Travis had given in to the demon rage and thrown himself at the old man, kicking and clawing with all his might. Except now he was strong enough to do something about it. Strong enough not to get beaten back down.

"Duane, put the fucking knife down," Travis shouted.

Duane glanced at Travis in surprise. Vicki reached down to grab the knife from him. But he jerked his arm back and slapped her with his free hand. Travis lunged at Duane, who had reared back to hit her again. He grabbed his wrist. Duane turned to face him, unadulterated hate beaming from his eyes. Travis balled up his fist and pulled back, ready to knock Duane out in one hit.

And then Duane punched him in the stomach. He felt it like a shockwave. He'd been punched in the stomach before and never had this reaction. All sound stopped and all he could hear was a dull ringing sound. He felt himself get punched once, twice more. He watched as the hate left Duane's face, replaced by terror. A dull clanging noise. A warm, wet sensation. Travis was doubled over, his hands to his stomach. He pulled his hands away and looked down at them. They were covered in blood. He looked down at the bloody knife on the floor and then back up at Duane.

He sank to his knees on the floor. Duane was on his knees in front of Travis, helping him lean back against the wall. He was crying and saying something. Travis looked up and saw Vicki screaming. He suddenly felt cold. Very cold. He started shaking violently. The edges of his vision grew blurry and then black. The last thing he remembered was hearing Duane shouting, "I'm sorry," over and over.



#

Arden and Becca were playing crazy eights with the younger kids. It was nearly nine o'clock and Arden was beginning to worry about Travis. But she forced it out of her head. When the doorbell rang, it didn't even occur to her that it could be anything to do with Travis. He would have knocked and come right in.

Her mother answered the door and a few seconds later, Emma came in. Her face was pale and tear-streaked.

"Oh, God," Arden said. "What did Dustin do now?"

Emma didn't react. She took Arden by the arm and led her to the couch. She held her hand. "Travis is in the emergency room," she said.

Arden laughed. "What?"

"He went to stop Duane beating on his girlfriend and Duane stabbed him in the stomach three times. They rushed him to the emergency room. He's lost a lot of blood and they're prepping him for surgery. I got all this information from Dustin. He wanted me to get you and bring you. He didn't figure it would be good for you to go by yourself."