[Georgia 03] Fallen

There’s always some jackass in the first row who wants to show off.” She was silent for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “Hector came to get me at the grocery store. He knew my routines. That’s the sort of man he was. He paid attention when you told him something.” She was silent a moment, perhaps in honor of her former lover. “He’d gone to visit Caleb at rehab and been told that he’d checked himself out. They don’t lock them down. Caleb just walked out. We shouldn’t’ve been surprised. I had already made some calls and figured out that Ricardo was getting himself mixed up in things that were not going to be good for any of them.”
    “Heroin.”
    She let out a slow breath. “Hector and I put it together as I drove him back to the house. We knew that Ricardo was working at Julia’s shop, just like we knew that nothing good was going to come out of any of these boys getting together. Folie à plusieurs. ”
    Will had heard the phrase before. It referred to a psychological syndrome where a group of seemingly normal people developed a shared psychosis when they were together. The Manson Family. The Branch Davidians. There was always an unstable leader at the center of the sickness. Roger Ling had called it the head of the snake. A man like Roger Ling should know.
    Evelyn said, “Part of me wanted Faith to come home early. I wanted her to meet Hector, so I would be forced into explaining.”
    “Did Caleb kill Hector?”
    “I think it must’ve been him. It was sneaky, and cowardly. I heard the gun—you don’t forget the sound a silencer makes once you’ve heard it before—and I looked out into the carport. The trunk was closed and there was no one there. I didn’t think twice. Maybe I had thought this was going to happen all along. I scooped up Emma and took her into the shed. I came back with my gun and there was a man in the laundry room. I shot him before he could open his mouth. And then I turned around and there was Caleb.”
    “You struggled with him?”
    “I couldn’t shoot him. He was unarmed. He was my son. But I got the better of him.” She looked down at her wounded hand. “I don’t think he was expecting me to be so aggressively opposed to his trying to cut off my finger.”
    “He cut it off right then?” Will had assumed it was part of a later negotiation.
    “One of the other boys sat on my back while Caleb cut it off. He used the bread knife. He sawed it back and forth like you’d do with a tree. I think he enjoyed hearing me scream.”
    “How did you get the knife away from him?”
    “I don’t really know. It’s one of those things that happens without your thinking about it. Actually, I don’t remember much of what came next, but I do recall that other boy falling on top of me, and the feel of that knife going into his stomach.” She exhaled sharply. “I ran into the carport to get Emma and get the hell out of there. And then I heard Caleb screaming. ‘Mama, Mama.’ ” She paused for another moment. “He sounded like he was hurt. I don’t know what made me go back inside. It was instinctual, like with the knife, but that was self-preservation, and this was self-destruction.” She obviously still struggled with the memory. “I was aware of it—how wrong it was. I remember thinking quite clearly as I ran past my car and back into the house that this was one of the stupidest things I would ever do in my life. And I was right. But I couldn’t stop myself. I heard him crying for me, and I just ran back inside.”
    She paused again for breath. Will could see that the angle of the sun had changed so that it was shining into her eyes. He got up and tilted down the blinds.
    She breathed out an exhausted-sounding “Thank you.”
    “Do you want to rest?”
    “I want to finish this, and then I never want to talk about it again.”
    That sounded exactly like the kind of thing Faith would say. Will knew better than to argue. He sat down in the chair, waiting for her to continue.
    Evelyn didn’t start back immediately. For a full minute, she just lay there, her chest rising and falling as she breathed.
    Finally, she said, “For about three years after he was born, around once a month, I’d tell Bill and the kids I had to go do paperwork at the office. Usually it was a Sunday while they were at church, because it was easier.” She coughed. Her voice was getting raspier. “But I’d really go to the park up the street, and I would sit on that bench by