“What the hell are you doing, Scott?” Bam exclaimed, her hands a blur of motions and expressions. Her face was red and spittle flew from her mouth. “You weren’t supposed to abduct him. You were supposed to grab the pills from him and then leave. This is insanity! This is fucking nuts! Scott! Scott! What is going through your brain?”
Adrenaline still pushed its way around Scott’s body, causing his heart to pound and his skin to tingle. He had never felt more alive in his entire life, even on the basketball court. “I no longer know what is going through my head, hun,” Scott told her. “Do you? I guess…questions. Questions are going through my head, Bam. Do know what went through our head when we took that pill? Don’t you want to know what happened? And why? Don’t you want to know the truth?”
“I know what happened,” she replied.
“It was not God!” Scott yelled.
“You don’t know that,” Bam demanded. She put her back to him and began to look out the kitchen window. It was still daytime but the cloudy sky made it almost as dark as night. The rain had stopped but the gray clouds still hung across the sky. It was like a blanket but instead of keeping everything warm and cozy, the damp clouds made everything wet and cold.
Scott replied to her. “My father once told me that God was a construct invented by people because human beings wanted desperately to believe they are unique in the world. They want to know they are special, so they need a creator, a loving father that will never let them down, never abandon them if they are good and holy. There are a lot of people that need that infallible father. And even when God does hurt them, and he does often, it is for their own good. What a perfect father. Huh?”
“There is no such thing as a perfect father,” Bam spat.
“Exactly,” Scott said. “That is why I don’t believe that God opened my eyes to anything. Something else happened.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “That is why that pill was not enough. Taking that pill would not resolve this mess. I thought it would be enough, enough to prove to my father and Oscar why I had to kill Owen. But it wouldn’t be enough for me…for my state of mind.”
“That man won’t tell you anything,” she responded, twisting away from the window to point toward the archway that led into the living room. A wooden chair had been taken from the dining room table and placed at the center of the room. The thick curtains had been drawn in that room as well, blocking the view of any passersby. Sitting on the chair, bound and tied was the yellow man.
The smirk was still on his face.
Scott was going to wipe that expression from his face, even if he had to use sandpaper to do it.
“Are you in this with me?” he asked Bam. “Are we going to see this through together?”
“I’m scared,” Bam said and Scott could see it plain as day. She was more than scared. She was terrified. She was terrified of the yellow man. He never thought about how she would react to his presence and regretted the rash and selfish decision. But it had to be done. For her and his own good.
“He can’t hurt you, baby,” he said. “I won’t let him.”
“If he wants me hurt,” she began, “I will be hurt.”
“We will see about that,” Scott told her, taking her by the arm and pulling her focus away from the yellow man. He met her eyes with his. Cradling the bottom of her arm with his palm, he escorted her into the living room, so that she can confront the yellow man.