Thunder and Lightening Chapter 29 By Lazlo Zalezac Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2004 Yawning, Jerry scratched his bare belly as he poured water into the coffee maker. Once the pot was empty, he slipped it onto the heater pad and turned on the brewer. Turning away, he wandered over to the cabinet where he had his breakfast foods and looked it over trying to decide what to cook. He grabbed the pancake mix. The coffee was finished by the time that he had finished preparing the batter. He poured a cup of coffee and sat at the table drinking it. Bill wandered out of his bedroom and poured a cup for himself. Sitting at the table, he yawned and then said, "Good morning." "Morning," replied Jerry. The pair of them sat enjoying the first cup of coffee of the morning. Jerry finished his and said, "Time to get started on the pancakes." Bill yawned before getting up and going over to the cabinet to get the plates. A companionable silence settled on the room, as the two of them went through the process of preparing breakfast. Jerry made the pancakes while Bill set the table. Glancing over at the table, Jerry said, "There's three of us now." "Shit, I forgot," grumbled Bill as he got another table setting. "Well, it looks like we have someone that can help with the dishes from now on," commented Jerry with a smile. Now that there were three of them in the house, the work could be distributed a little better. "Right, when pigs fly," replied Bill. He knew the princess wasn't going to do a thing around the house. "No deadwood allowed in this house," replied Jerry as he stirred the batter. Looking like a picture out of a fashion magazine, Melissa breezed into the kitchen wearing a pair of pink silk pajamas and a matching silk robe. She froze on seeing her father and Bill, taking in their attire. She shouted, "Gross." Jerry turned to look at her trying to figure out what had disturbed her. It was hard not to notice the outfit she was wearing. It probably cost as much as his entire wardrobe. He asked, "What?" "You guys are in your boxers! That's disgusting," commented the girl. Bill put a hand on the waist of his boxers and replied, "I can take them off if that would make you feel better." "Oh God, you are sick," commented Melissa as she frowned at her brother with an expression of disgust on her face. Jerry and Bill laughed at her reaction. The big man turned back to the pancakes that were finished cooking on the frying pan and piled them on a plate. He poured more batter on the frying pan and, once finished with that, turned to face Melissa. He said, "This is my house and it is run according to my rules." "And if I choose not to live by your rules?" "I don't know, but I can tell you that you won't like it," commented the big man. He didn't know what he would do, but he was sure that Sharon could provide lots of ideas. Melissa said, "You are just going to have to learn how to treat a lady." "Grow up, Mel. There's no one to impress here," replied Bill. "There's coffee in the coffee pot," offered Jerry hoping that once she got some coffee into her that she would be a little less edgy. A stray thought flitted through his mind that she was going to have to learn how to act like a lady before she would get treated like a lady. She noticed Bill taking a sip of his coffee and frowned. Putting her hand on her hip, she declared, "He's too young to be drinking coffee." "Why? It's got the same amount of caffeine as a soft drink and none of the sugar," countered Jerry. Bill smiled and took another sip of his coffee as he watched his sister struggle to come up with something to counter the argument. A half dozen expressions crossed her face before she gave up and went over to the coffeepot. Taking one of the cups from beside the pot, she filled it with coffee. Once her cup was filled, she asked, "Where's the cream?" "Milk is in the fridge," answered Jerry as he added more pancakes onto the pile already on the plate. "Milk? Are you kidding?" She turned to look at her father, unable to believe the kind of conditions under which he expected her to live. Her room was the size of the closet she had at her grandmother's house. The house was decrepit and unfit for human occupation. The neighborhood was dangerous. Bill gave his father a look that conveyed exactly what he thought of his sister. Looking at her, he waved his arms like the robot in Lost in Space as he said, "Warning! Warning! Princess in the room." "Oh, shut up," retorted Melissa. She took a sip of her coffee and frowned as she realized it wasn't the gourmet coffee that her grandmother served. "Hey, none of that stuff in this household. You'll act in a respectful manner towards each other," interrupted Jerry. He looked at both kids to make sure that he had their attention and then went back to pouring the last of the batter onto the frying pan. "So what do you do around here?" asked Melissa. "Mondays are dad's day off. We have a hot breakfast, work on the car in the morning, and then spend the afternoon doing something together," answered Bill. He wondered if the program was going to change much with Melissa moving into the house. In a voice that suggested how lame she thought their day would be, she said, "I hope the rest of the week isn't that exciting." Bill let her sarcasm slide off his back as he replied, "Well, Thursdays are kind of busy." Jerry came over to the table carrying the plate full of pancakes and set it down on the table. Stepping back, he said, "Breakfast is ready." He sat at the table and started to load up his plate. Bill followed suit, piling three of the pancakes on his plate. The males of the household were busy putting margarine and syrup on their flapjacks before Melissa had even sat at the table. She stood in place staring at the two of them for a full minute. Finally, she asked, "Aren't you going to wait for me to sit at the table?" "Why?" asked Jerry as he cut off a piece of the pancake with the edge of his fork. "Haven't you ever heard of a thing called manners?" asked Melissa. Men were supposed to stand around the table until the woman seated herself. Bill looked up at his sister and shook his head as he recalled how things had been when he lived with his mother. He wasn't allowed to eat until they both showed up at the table. Usually that meant the food was cold by the time his sister seated herself at the table. He answered, "Lighten up. This is breakfast and I'm going to eat it before it gets cold." Melissa flounced into her chair and pouted at their treatment of her. This was intolerable. She said, "Pass the pancakes." "They're right in front of you," observed Bill as he pushed the margarine in her direction. He watched his father push the maple syrup in her direction as well. "Oh! All right!" she exclaimed as she pulled the plate closer. She raised an eyebrow on seeing the margarine and the fake syrup, but didn't bother to comment. It followed that if they didn't have cream for coffee, they wouldn't use real butter and maple syrup. Jerry got up and fetched the coffeepot. Returning to the table, he refilled his cup, topped off Bill's cup in response to a nod from the boy, and gestured to Melissa to see if she wanted more. She ignored him as she would a servant. He returned the pot to the brewer and then went back to the table. Sitting down, he took a sip of his coffee before turning his attention to the pancakes. When Jerry finished his stack of pancakes, he sat back and watched the kids eating. Bill was attacking his food with his normal healthy appetite. Melissa was picking at the pancakes as though she expected to find bugs in them. After taking a sip of his coffee, he asked, "What would you guys like to do this afternoon?" "How about a movie?" asked Bill. "Shopping," answered Melissa. Bill looked over at his sister and replied, "Wednesday we do the grocery shopping." "I wasn't talking about groceries," replied Melissa. Jerry said, "That reminds me. Now that you're living here, I guess I'm responsible for setting your allowance. How does twenty a week sound?" Melissa stared at Jerry as if he had grown horns. She was in absolute shock at the paltry amount of money he had suggested. In a very serious voice, she said, "Add a zero to that and you'll be close to the allowance I've been getting since I was twelve." Shocked at her attempt to fool his father into giving her a larger allowance, Bill looked at Melissa and said, "Mom was only giving us five dollars a week." "That was your allowance. My allowance was a hundred and fifty." "That's not fair," charged Bill as his eyes turned wet. Even though he knew that his mother had treated him horribly, it still shocked him to learn just how inequitable his treatment had been. "You're a boy and if you needed more, then you should have gone out and earned it. I'm girl and different rules apply," retorted Melissa. Jerry had listened to the exchange speechless. He believed her when she said what her allowance had been. There was no way that he was going to give her more money than he took for the week. He said, "This is an equal opportunity household. Everyone gets the same pay for the same work. Right now, the going rate is twenty a week." Bill smiled as Melissa stared at her father in shock. She asked, "Are you serious?" "Very," replied Jerry, as he looked her in the eye to let her know just how serious he was about the matter. There was no way she was getting an allowance bigger than that. She stood up to face Jerry; her arms hung down by her sides with her hands clenched into fists. Her face was livid with raw hatred for Jerry. Picking up her breakfast plate, she threw it at him and stormed out of the room. The plate caromed off Jerry's face, hitting him edge on, to land on the floor where it shattered into three large pieces and several smaller ones. Jerry stood up in surprise and winced when he heard her bedroom door slam. Bill stood and asked, "Are you okay, dad?" Rubbing his cheekbone to ease the throbbing, Jerry answered, "I'm fine. The plate hit my cheekbone." "Dad, she's dangerous," said Bill remembering how she had treated him in the past. The fact was that she terrified him and he didn't want to be left in the house alone with her. Jerry looked down at the floor taking in the broken plate. When Bill went to pick it up, he said, "Leave it there. She won't eat until she cleans up the mess she made." "You're asking for trouble," said Bill with a worried look on his face. "I won't be held hostage by a woman ever again," stated Jerry with grim determination. His face softened as he looked over at Bill and added, "I'll talk to Henry about taking you in for a few days while Melissa and I come to an understanding. I don't think you should be left alone with her." "I agree one hundred percent on not being alone with her. Can't you put her in a home or something?" asked Bill staring in the direction of her bedroom door. "Nope, I can't do that," replied Jerry. He didn't know what the law was about situations in which children assaulted their parents, but he doubted that it worked in the favor of the parents. After lunch, the pair left the house after trying to get Melissa to clean up the mess she had made in the kitchen. She had refused even after Jerry threatened to leave her in house while they went to the movies. The discussion had been difficult as she wouldn't open her bedroom door and Jerry respected her privacy by not charging into her room. The frequent sounds of things hitting the door made Jerry glad that it was closed. Jerry returned from spending the afternoon at the movies with Bill and his friends. When Woody learned that Melissa had moved in with them, he offered to let Bill spend the night at his house for a couple of nights. Woody's parents didn't have a problem with that, so Jerry had left Bill with Woody. He was confident that the boy was in good hands and far safer than he would have been at home. Jerry stepped into the house and looked in the kitchen. The broken plate and the remains of her pancakes were still on the floor. Melissa appeared to be in her room, but he wasn't going to open the door to find out for sure. He didn't have to knock, the door flew open as she threw herself at him waving a kitchen knife. It was dumb luck that the knife struck his cast. It was a terrifying minute before he was able to grab the weapon and wrestle it away from her. She continued to attack him. Throwing her across the room, he shouted, "Are you out of your fucking mind?" She stood up and took a deep breath as she faced him from across the room. Angry, she shouted, "I thought you were one of the niggers come to rape me!" "What?" He asked his question in an attempt to understand what she was saying. "A nigger came to the door this morning and asked for Bill. Now that they know a white woman is in the neighborhood, they're gonna rape me. All those niggers want is to rape white girls," she shouted. She had spent the entire day huddled in her room clutching the knife convinced that a horde of angry blacks was coming to rape her. "Jesus, you're just like your mother," swore Jerry in disgust. "Don't try to make me feel better," she countered, not realizing that his comment wasn't a compliment. She spat, "You brought me here just so that you could torture me." Staring at the floor, Jerry was at a loss concerning what he could do with her. If she had attacked any of the kids in the neighborhood, they'd have killed her. He had no doubts about that. He asked, "What did you tell Abe?" "Who's Abe?" "The young man that asked for Bill," answered Jerry afraid of what he was going to learn. "I told the nigger to get the hell away from here," she answered. She nodded her head to emphasize just how correctly she had acted. Jerry said, "He's one of Bill's best friends." "So?" she asked while looking at him with a puzzled expression. She couldn't imagine that anyone would want a black friend, it just wasn't done. As far as she was concerned, she had done Bill a favor by chasing the boy away. The complete lack of control over her actions reminded Jerry of Lenny in the book that had bothered Bill and him so much not that long ago. She was going to destroy their dreams and not even know what she was doing until everything came tumbling down around her. He wanted to shake her awake, but knew it would do no good. Jerry bent down and picked the knife off the floor. It was the largest kitchen knife that they had. Examining the blade, he noticed the drop of red at then very tip of it. He looked down at his cast and saw the puncture through the cast material. He swore, "You stabbed me." "Well, it was your own fault," she charged. If he hadn't left her there all alone, she wouldn't have had to defend herself. She said, "I'm hungry." There weren't many things that she could have said that would have surprised Jerry at that point. He said, "You didn't clean up the mess you made in the kitchen." "I'm not your maid. Get your crack whore girl friend to clean it up," she replied. Opening the door, Jerry said, "Come with me." "No." "Okay, you can stay here, but you're going to be here all alone when it gets dark." The threat worked and Melissa followed her father out to his car. She climbed into the passenger side after realizing that he wasn't going to open the door for her. Once she was in the car, Jerry drove off to the hospital. He didn't know how bad he had been cut. Even if it was a pinprick, the fact that he couldn't clean the wound through the cast concerned him. He had septicemia and pneumonia already this year as a result of getting shot. The last thing he needed was some flesh eating disease working on him under his cast. As he drove, he pondered his situation finding it bleak. In her first full day at the house, she had assaulted him twice. His face under his eye was swollen and had turned an ugly purple color from the plate she had thrown at him. Now he had been stabbed through his cast. He asked, "Aren't you even the least bit upset about having stabbed me?" "No. Why should I? It was your fault," she replied. She sat in the car with her legs tightly crossed and her arms rigidly folded around her chest. Whenever he made a turn in the car, she fell over. Each time she fell over, she glared at her father for not driving in a suitably smooth manner. They reached the hospital and all was going well until he told the admissions nurse that he had been stabbed. Suddenly the police were present and he was being questioned about the circumstances under which he had been stabbed. When it became clear that Melissa was going to be taken away, Jerry fumbled with his cell phone and called his attorney. The nurse took him to one of the treatment rooms where they removed the cast to get access to his cut. The cut was a minor puncture that required two stitches to close. As the doctor was stitching him up, his attorney came into the treatment room and said, "They are prepared to take her to juvie for the night, although they are considering sending her to the psycho ward for observation." "Why?" "She was verbally abusive to one of the black police officers and appears to have no remorse for her actions." His brow furrowed as he considered the kinds of things that she would say to a black police officer. Considering the kinds of comments that she had made over the past twenty-four hours, he was sure that her words had been less than acceptable. He asked, "Why weren't you able to get her to shut up?" "I wasn't there. Her attorney was present during questioning, but she ignored his advice. Apparently, she felt that if she explained the circumstances to a real police officer that they would understand why she stabbed you. Cutting her allowance justified striking you with the plate and a young black man knocking on the door was a definite threat against her life. She stabbed you because you were endangering her." Tony felt sorry for Melissa's attorney. He had done everything to protect his client, but she was totally oblivious to what she had confessed. From everything that he had heard, the girl was a sociopath. Jerry winced as the doctor finished tying off the second stitch. Jerry said, "She's just like her mother. The only one that she is concerned about is herself." "I knew you were getting a problem, I just didn't realize how much of a problem," said the lawyer. Jerry watched as the doctor wrapped his wound. Looking up at his attorney, he asked, "What can I do?" "Not much that you can do. You are responsible for her until she is eighteen. That's another year and a half. I hate to tell you that she's going to cost you a fortune between now and then." "Why?" "This little episode will cost you a couple of thousand dollars by the time everything is totaled," replied Tony. The cast was soon replaced and Jerry was sent on his way. As he left the treatment area, a policeman and his ex-wife's attorney met him. Looking from one to the other, he didn't like the expressions on their faces. The attorney broke the silence, "I've been fired." The officer said, "She threatened to kill you if you took her back to your house." "I'm her father and can't throw her out on the street. I can't move just because she's not happy there," said Jerry. "We are going to have take her to the juvenile hall and let a judge figure this one out," stated the cop. He didn't like these kinds of calls. He added, "I know you're her father, but you have to understand that some of these kids really mean these threats against their parents." Jerry stepped out of Jenny's house wearing his new suit purchased at a chain that specialized in clothes for large and tall men. He felt better about his appearance then ever in his life. It was perfectly tailored. They had even modified the coat so that he could wear it over his cast while still looking sharp. Jenny locked the door behind him and turned to look at him. Licking her lips, she said, "If we didn't have to pick up your kids and go to the funeral, I'd drag you back into the house and have my way with you." A large grin crossed his face as he replied, "You'd drag me?" "Okay, I'd strip naked and entice you back into the house," she teased. "I wouldn't want you to expose yourself like that to the neighbors. You'd only have to promise to get undressed to entice me back into the house," admitted Jerry with a lecherous grin. "And why wouldn't you want me to expose myself like that?" she said with a pout and acting as though she were hurt. Jerry winked as he answered, "All of the old men would have heart attacks from seeing such loveliness and I'd have to fight off the young men wanting to ravish you. It's not that I mind protecting you from those young men, but the idea of all those poor widows just breaks my heart." Jenny laughed and grabbed his good arm. She pressed her body against him with a sigh and said, "We can't have that." She took the bag with the black dress for Melissa from him as they made their way to her car. They were taking her car since it would be a little easier for the four of them to get into and out of than his Camaro. Jerry held the door open for her, appreciating the view as her black dress rode up her legs when she entered the car. She caught him looking and smiled when he blushed. She giggled and said, "You're so cute when you blush." It always unnerved Jerry when she made comments like that. He just shuffled for a moment not knowing how to respond. He realized he looked pretty stupid standing beside the car holding the door open and closed it with a little more energy than he had intended. When he finally settled into the driver's seat, he looked over at Jenny thinking how good she looked. With a sigh, he said, "I don't know why I'm going to this thing." "You're doing it for your daughter," replied Jenny patiently. They'd had this conversation several times. It bothered her that he wasn't too thrilled about attending the funeral for the sake of his daughter. The idea that he didn't really love his daughter upset her tremendously. Of course, she had been shocked to learn that his daughter had stabbed him and had no remorse about having done it. She loved her dad and couldn't imagine why Jerry's daughter didn't love him. "I guess." Jerry started the car and headed to the juvenile facility to reclaim his daughter from the legal system. They were releasing her back into his custody. The judge had accepted her lawyer's argument that she was upset about the death of her grandmother and not entirely in control of herself. The judge had ordered her kept in the juvenile hall until the morning of the funeral as a warning of what she could expect if she didn't learn to control herself and to attend group counseling so that she could come to grips with her grief. As he drove, he thought about what he could expect for the next year and a half. The future didn't appear very bright. With a frown, he asked, "Could you take in Bill for a couple of days? I really don't trust her to be around him." "You talk about her as if she is an ax murderer." Jerry took a deep breath and slowly released it. In a quiet voice, he said, "Don't judge me too harshly, but I think she is a psychopath." Shocked that a father would say something like that about his own daughter, Jenny stared at him speechless. It was a full minute before she was able to reply, "That's a horrible thing to say about your daughter." "Never mind," replied Jerry. The rest of the drive was made in silence, but Jerry kept glancing at Jenny. She stared out the passenger window wondering if she had been mistaken in her assessment about the character of the man beside her. How could a man say such things about his own daughter? The relationship between a father and a daughter was a special one. His words tarnished that relationship for all fathers and daughters. Jerry pulled into a parking spot outside the facility and turned off the engine. He asked, "Do you want to come in?" Coming to a decision that she should protect the daughter from the father, she answered in a tight voice, "Of course." Jerry held the door open for her and watched as she got out of the car. This time, there was no sexy show of legs. Clutching the bag with the black dress for Melissa, Jenny walked beside Jerry without holding his hand. When they reached the door, he held it open for her and she passed through without comment. Jerry watched her walk past thinking that his daughter had just cost him his relationship with the woman he loved. All he wanted to do was run away and cry. Jenny sat in a chair leaving several empty chairs between her and Jerry. She was fuming at the idea of a father calling his daughter a psychopath. After waiting for ten minutes, Jerry stood and paced around the small waiting room for his daughter. Finally the door opened and his daughter stepped out. For one second, the two of them just stared at each other. He hadn't seen her without makeup in six years and she had never seen him in a suit. He noticed the black eye and wondered what had happened to her. He stepped towards her as he said, "Hello, Melissa. What happened to your face?" Her face contorted as she shouted, "You fucking gorilla. It's all your fault that I was here." "My fault?" asked Jerry not entirely surprised by her comment. "You shouldn't have told that bitch of a nurse that you were stabbed." "But I was stabbed," countered Jerry. Melissa put her hands on her hips and shouted, "So what? They put me in jail! You should have lied or bribed the judge. Mom is right! You are a poor excuse for a man. A real man would have kept me out of jail." He stared at her thinking back to that night. She had stabbed him. She had insulted the black police officer. She had ignored the advice of her lawyer and practically forced the police to take her away. Giving up, Jerry said, "I brought a black dress for you. Why don't you go into the ladies room and put it on?" "So you brought a black dress for me to wear. Oh my, I'm speechless. Why would I want to wear a black dress?" Melissa hated wearing black. With her pale features, black clothes made her look like a Goth girl and, as far as she was concerned, nobody that had any taste wanted to be seen looking like that. Besides, black was such a depressing color. "To go to your grandmother's funeral?" Jenny had watched the exchange in shock at the behavior of the daughter. She was willing to give Melissa the benefit of the doubt until the young woman replied, "I'm not going. I'd rather go home and soak in a hot bath." "It's your grandmother's funeral," said Jerry with an expression on his face that conveyed his dismay at her total lack of any kind of emotional commitment to the woman that had taken care of her for the past year. "Look, she's dead. She doesn't care if I go or not," she answered looking at him with an expression challenging him to come up with a counter argument. She wasn't kidding about not wanting to go to the funeral. Unable to control herself, Jenny exclaimed, "I'm so sorry that I doubted you." Knowing that he would hate himself for what he was about to say, Jerry took a deep breath and then said, "Your mother will be there."