Psycher Chronicles: Chapter 9 The Call (Patreon)

Chapter 9

The Call

Clink, clatter, clop.

The repetitive shot and make of a basketball flowing through a metal hoop and metal chain linked netting could be heard echoing through the backyard. The sound was so repetitive and persistent that Andrea had mostly gotten used to the sound, figuring it to be therapeutic in a way.

If anything seemed to bother Misha, it never showed in her practice and dedication to getting stronger.

“What is that?” Julie, Andrea’s mother asked, clearly hearing the sounds through Andrea’s new phone that could pick up all types of sounds.

“That is just Misha practicing.” Andrea confessed.

“Is she always like that?”

“You mean does she always make a lot of noise? Yes.”

“Doesn’t that get, you know.”

“Annoying?” Andrea asked, trying to figure out what her mother was hinting at.

“Yes?” Julie asked.

“Honestly, at first it was, but now it’s kind of comforting to be honest. As long as that sound is being made, I know she is safe in the backyard.” Andrea said.

“Are you still worried about what happened at work?” Julie asked, clearly noting the incident that had happened the week prior.

“You mean where the crazy lady apparently followed us from the school to our work. Then took a picture of my license plate?” Andrea said, bringing up the major details of the case.

“Yes, did anything ever come from that?”

“Of course not. I called back the next day to inquire about it, and to see if they found out why that lady would take a picture of my license plate.”

“And?”

“And they said, they had no clue about what case I was talking about. Acted as if I was the crazy person for even bringing it up.” Andrea said with a sigh.

“Rich people, they can get away with anything, and pin it on us.” Julie said.

“Rich people,” Andrea echoed, clearly having resentment for what will happen.

Silence.

“So what are you going to do?” Julie finally pressed.

“Not much I can do. With the cops clearly in on it, all I can do is drop it and be on the lookout for a fancy white luxury car that clearly doesn’t belong out here.” Andrea said.

“No, not about that, but about the Field Trip that is coming up.” Julie admitted.

“Oh right, I completely forgot about that.” Andrea said.

Clink, clatter, clop.

“Well I think you should let her stay home for the day.” Julie said.

“I can’t, if she stays home, that means I have to stay home, and we can’t afford that right now.” Andrea replied, a note of desperation in her voice.

“Honestly, I don’t know why you insist on staying out there so far away from your support network. If you moved back home, we could at least help out.”

“Mom, I can’t deal with this right now.”

Sigh.

“You are right, this is not the time for that, but I do need to ask what you are going to do.”

“What I am going to do?”

“Yes, are you going to finally move back closer to home, now that so much has happened out there? I mean you moved out there to be closer to his family. Then you find out that not only is Peter scum that will leave his family, but that might be a blessing in disguise.”

“A blessing?”

“Yes, wasn’t his father the one who murdered all those people and buried them in his backyard, where Misha had to find them.” Julie said, speaking the truth of the situation. Or at least speaking what she figured to be the truth of the situation given just how crazy and chaotic the whole series of events were.

“I don’t know. She has been through so much, and I don’t want her to think that there is no chance that her father might come back into her life.”

Clink, clatter, clop.

“But there isn’t, that man has left. I have already seen the new images of that floozie he is with right now, hugging her as if he has no cares in the world.” Julie admitted.

“You have seen him?” Andrea asked.

“Oh yeah, I had to create an alternate account. Fixed it with the image of a hot but relatively unknown model. Created a semi-believable background, and he accepted me while you were still dating.” Julie said.

“Mother, you did this after he left?”

“Hah, I did this while you two were still dating. No, I just logged into the account and saw his new relationship status, and that he was proudly proclaiming his love for this random harlot.”

“Mother, you need to work on your insults. Also, it might not be the woman’s fault, Peter is a dick.” Andrea said.

“Amen to that.”

Clink, clatter, clop.

“Say, why is there such a long time between baskets being made? Is she that bad of a shot?” Julie asked, suddenly realizing that it was roughly two minutes per shot.

“Haha. No, she does intervals between shots.” Andrea said.

“Intervals?”

“Yeah, she gathers the ball, sprints with it up the court, goes to the other end, drops and does an exercise to comes back, works on footwork, dribbling, and movements, then takes another shot, only to go back and try it all again.” Andrea said, speaking of the pattern and routines that Misha does.

“That sounds exhausting just hearing about it.” Julie admitted.

“I know, why I now stay inside and just pretend to be a spectator from the couch.”

“When is she going to join a league?”

“A league?”

“You know something to get her to interact with others.”

“She hasn’t said that she wants to, so I haven’t pushed it.” Andrea said.

“You are worried about work and the fact that if you are working, you won’t be able to take her to or from practices.”

“Yeah.”

“Even more reason for you to come back home.” Julie said.

Wince.

With that Andrea could only wince at how well the trap before her had been laid out, and most impressively how easily she had moved her way into the trap.

“I’ve been thinking about it.” Andrea said, offering an olive branch.

Sigh.

With that Julie let out a sigh from her end.

“Well, think faster, as the longer you stay around there. The more you are hurting my Misha’s chances of getting her dreams of playing in the NBA.”

“It is the WNBA, mom.”

“See, even more reason for her to be here, so she can tell me where she actually wants to play when she grows up.”

Chuckle.

“Fine mom, I will definitely think about it.” Andrea said, and she meant it too. The more she tried to fight the need to go back home, the more she hated herself for realizing it was going to be inevitable. Right now, she could at least move back with the dignity of being able to afford her own place. While it might be smaller than they currently had, it would be more than enough for her and Misha. However, she knew that if she waited too long, she might have to move back in fully with her mother, particularly if she went under on her bills. Right now, she was barely able to tread water and keep her family afloat, but that could all change with a bad illness or something else.

“Also, while you are finally agreeable, have you thought about filing for child support?” Julie asked.

Sigh.

Andrea had been thinking about that, but every time she went to file, it felt so real. As if somehow doing so would mean that all of those years she had with Peter were a mistake, as if Misha was somehow a mistake. That was ridiculous, and clearly not something she wanted to do, but deep-down part of her would always think that filing for child support would be the same as admitting that their marriage was finally over. Given that he already had a new girlfriend that he flaunted online only made it that much easier to accept, at least it should make it easier to accept. However, Andrea still felt it was just as hard as ever to file the paperwork that Peter should logically file on his own. He was the one who left, he was the one who quit their relationship, and yet it was now Andrea’s job to go fill out the forms, hire a lawyer, and get him to admit that he was still Misha’s father. While he no longer had to provide emotional support, he could at least provide financial support for his daughter.

Clink, clatter, clop.

Sigh.

“You are right mom.” Andrea said, before continuing. “I will file the forms immediately.”

“File them, I already had a lawyer draft them up for you.” Julie said.

“You hired a lawyer for me?” Andrea asked, suddenly feeling like this was a bit too much.

“Yes, consider it a gift.”

“A gift, for meddling in my family?”

“No, this is a gift for my granddaughter who needs this money and needs a mother who can take off a few hours a week to take her to sporting events or to spend time with her in a meaningful way.” Julie said.

Punch.

While there had not been any exchange of blows, Andrea still felt like she had been punched in the gut at that.

Honestly, she knew her mother was acting out of love. In fact, the idea that her mother was hiring the lawyer and paying for their services was a weight off her shoulders, but Andrea also knew that such a gift would come with stipulations. If not direct stipulations to go home, then there would be implied implications that she would be guilted into going home, because of this gift.

Once again, Andrea found herself being outplayed by her mother.

Honestly, it was all rather impressive, but just because it was impressive didn’t mean that didn’t sting just as much as if she had been struck full on in the gut.

Silence.

Julie waited, clearly intending to hear some sort of reply from Andrea. Andrea for her part could not muster up the words to say. In a way it felt too forced, Peter could still come back, at least that was the excuse that had come to her mind. But then again it had been over six months since he left, no contact, cut off from all forms of communication. Honestly, the only reason why Andrea even knew he was alive right now was due to her mother’s stalker account.

Finally, after a long pause, Julie was the one who spoke.

“Look, I know this is tough to understand. And I wish the world was a better place, but your daughter, my granddaughter, is special. One in a million, possibly one in a billion special. I know it, you know it, that quack therapist knows it.” Julie stated.

Clink, clatter, clop.

Andrea sat in constant thoughts to herself, until the rhythmic nature of Misha’s shooting broke her out of her own head space.

“Fine.” Andrea said, as much as she hated to admit it, this was for the best. Child support was not the same thing as going home, this was just extra support to live and try at her dream of having a family on her own. While the image of what a family would look like had changed, she knew that all she needed was Misha.

“You are stubborn.” Julie said.

Chuckle.

At that Andrea had to laugh, before she added. “If you think I am stubborn, you should see Misha when she gets in a snit.”

With that Julie also laughed. “Poor dear, she gets it naturally.”

“Naturally?”

“Yes, you see, I don’t know if you know this, but I too have been called stubborn, once or twice.” Julie said.

“Just the two?”

“You know, I am getting older, it is getting hard to count all the times. But yeah, I think I can say that it has occurred at least twice.” Julie admitted.

Laughter.

Andrea laughed, and with that all the tension she had been feeling suddenly released.

“Thank you.” Andrea said and meant it too.

“So, you will file for child support? Or rather, you will allow your lawyer to file for child support on your behalf?”

“Yeah.” Andrea answered, while letting out a sigh at the same time.

“Good, then while you are finally listening to me. Make sure that you don’t allow Misha to go on that field trip to the University. I know school staff will be in attendance, but I don’t trust that professor with my granddaughter.” Julie said, clearly bringing up the last point of contention.

“Alright mom.” Andrea replied exasperatedly.

“I mean it, don’t even send in the permission slip.”

Silence.

“You didn’t sign the permission slip, did you?” Julie asked.

“I don’t think so?” Andrea said, trying to remember back to the other night and wondering if she had in fact signed the field trip attendance slip.

“Well better still, just keep her home the day of the field trip, that way you know she won’t get caught up in whatever shenanigans that crazy professor has. She clearly has the cops on her side, if anything happened, then you know…” Julie began.

“I know.” Andrea said and meant it too. The fact that the case had randomly gone cold, or dismissed as if nothing had ever happened, only made it so Andrea felt herself agreeing with her mother for the second time today, a recent record, if her past few years were anything to go from.

Silence.

“Well, I think it is almost time to call Misha in so she can shower and get ready for the night.” Andrea said.

“Okay.” Julie said, her voice tense with realizing she might have pushed too much for their one phone call.

Andrea hearing the sudden tension from her mother, felt herself taking in a deep breath and responding.

“But honestly, thank you for everything. I don’t say it enough, but I do appreciate everything you do for me, well us, for us.” Andrea said.

“I love you too.” Julie said.

Silence.

Andrea waited, she felt the words close to coming out, but then before she could say anything, the click of the line going dead filled her ears.

Boop, boop, dial tone.

Andrea held the line and looked at it, seeing the time of her call flashing.

25:32.

That was the longest she had spoken to her mother in a long time, and it felt oddly therapeutic to talk to her mother. For a while there, particularly after Peter left, she dreaded calling her mother for fear that she would say “I told you so.”

Yet, that conversation never happened, instead her mother had always been there for her, trying to help her move forward.

“Maybe moving back wouldn’t be such a bad idea.” Andrea mused to herself.

Clink, clatter, clop.

Then hearing that her daughter was still diligently playing in the backyard, Andrea realized that the new house would need to be close to a basketball court, so she could continue to practice.

In her mind Andrea mentally noted that there were two main things to focus on. The first was the idea of moving, and the second was to accept the idea of child support for a dead beat dad who left.

There was of course, something else that was also important, but those were the main two events that Andrea decided to focus on and make happen.

***

(One Week Later)

“All right class, during this class trip, we will all need to buddy up as we make our way through the University Campus, and see what professional scientists are working on.” Ms. Folk, Misha’s second grade teacher said.

Then like that the children all began attracting and grouping together. The cool kids were easily paired off, followed shortly by the different males who often played with each other on the playground. A few of the wilder pairs needed to be regrouped, so that they would not be rambunctious enough to break anything expensive.

Then finally there was just Misha who stood by herself off in the corner.

Ms. Folk, seeing the girl who still had the stigma of being helmet head, still had no friends. Not that she apparently needed to make friends.

“All right, for today, you will have to be in a group of three Misha.” Ms. Folk said, speaking up and gently guiding Misha to join Kate and Allison.

Kate was clearly okay with this, but Allison looked at Misha with a sneer on her pretty face. Seeing this, Ms. Folk decided to nip this all in the bud, “now you all will get along for our walk across campus. You don’t need to be friends, but you do need to be nice to each other.”

With that Allison looked towards the ground, while Misha joined to be close, but not close enough to be within the friend zone of the two girls. Seeing the girl, Ms. Folk always marveled at how kids fell into one of two categories, those that were aware of social boundaries and those that weren’t. It was clear that Misha was well aware of social boundaries, as she remained standoffish from the start.

Well, nothing I can do about forcing kids to be friendly. Ms. Folk thought to herself, as she realized that now that everyone was paired up, it was time for this field trip to officially begin.

“Let’s all go and make this the best trip possible.” Ms. Folk said to her class, that was in turn merging with the two other second grade classes. Then speaking lowly to herself, she said “this will be fine.”

Rumble.

As she took her first step forward, Ms. Folk felt her stomach begin to turn in discontent. Mentally, she hoped this was not an omen of what would this day had in store for her and her class.