Survival Of The Fittest

Marie Hansen paced the length of the living room, stopping to eye the couch again. Cocking her head to one side, her fingers restlessly tapping against her chin while she stared at the collection of accent pillows piled in the center. Without a word, she snatched up two of the four and savagely crammed them into the corner of the couch. A dry cough sounded behind her. She pursed her lips in irritation before glanced over her shoulder at her husband. "It wouldn't kill you to help me, Edgar. Company will be here any second now."

Edgar Hansen ignored the venomous look she gave him as he lit up another cigarette. In twenty-five years of marriage, he had become well acquainted with his wife's compulsive need to clean when stressed. It always manifested before the arrival of company, especially ‘important' company. Experience had taught him that it was best to not comment and just let her get it out of her system.

She had her method of dealing with stress and he had his. He toyed with the empty pack in his hands. Annaliese would endlessly nag about his smoking, pointing out how bad it was for him and everyone around him. ‘You don't want to shorten my lifespan, do you, my father,' she would ask with a smartass little smirk on her face.

Thinking about his middle child caused his hand to shake. Leaning back into his battered recliner, Edgar took a deep drag, feeling the smoke work its way through him. He couldn't let his wife see how upset he was right now. He was the head of his family and they were relying on him for what came next. Exhaling slowly, he tried to keep his voice calm, not wanting to reveal his apprehension. "Woman, just leave be. You're working yourself up over nothing. The boy won't care if your house looks ready for a Better Homes and Garden photo shoot or not."

"We have to make a good impression," she snapped. "He was one of the kids with…I mean, he was there…" She trailed off and sniffled. He took another drag off his cigarette while he waited for her to compose herself. If he tried to say anything to her right now, she would either completely break down or rip his head off. So he waited, yet another lesson learned over the course of their courtship and marriage.

A few more sniffles and then his wife spoken to him in a normal voice. "It is important to me, Edgar, that he knows that she comes from a good family."

The unspoken implication hung in the air and made Edgar chuckle. "You mean, you want him to know that she was all sorts of crazy of her own accord and especially so when she meant well," he said, shaking his head. "If that boy spent any length of time with her, I'm sure he learned that first hand, honey."

A knock at door froze both adults in their tracks. The second knock galvanized Marie into action. She quickly stepped to the mirror, double checked her appearance, and then walked to the door. She smoothed her hands on hem of her shirt before opening the door. "You must be Raymond. Please, come inside."

Ray had, in truth, pulled up to the Hansens about five minutes prior. He had been sitting behind the wheel of his Buick, smoothing out the wrinkles in his button down shirt (the only one he had), and steeling himself for the visit.

Why was he here?

He didn't fucking know, to be honest. He had been taken in the first few days of being home to call the Hansens, to see them. Maybe he needed closure. More likely he wanted to apologize. For not bringing their daughter back home with him.

With all the apprehension, he was still here, in front of their door. It swung open, and his breath caught in his throat. For a moment, he swore to God Annaliese was there, standing in front of him, forcing a smile. That lasted only a few moments as he saw the lines in this woman's face, the lack of the pink stripe that made Annaliese seem so quirky before you even heard her speak.

"Y..Yes. I'm Raymond. Thank you." He stepped across the portal, slowly, as if he wasn't sure he belonged there. He followed the woman, the material of his dress shoes (his only pair) clicking on the tiles of the entrance. She led him to the den, where a man who had as much of Annaliese's stamp as she did, was sitting in a chair.

Taking the cue, Raymond sat down in chair facing Mr. Hansen, a soft leather one with a high back. Everything about the house seemed so upper class. About what Mike's level was, but Ray was still getting used to his own new home.

"I L..I like your house, Mr. and Mrs. Hansen." It was all he could manage to say at the moment. His eyes dropped down to his wrist, where a set of rainbow gel bracelets clashed with the darkness of his skin.

Marie beamed at the young man as he followed her to the den where Edgar waited. He was so polite and well-dressed. He was almost the antithesis of anyone Annaliese had ever brought home. Well, anyone since her freshman year of high school. As Raymond sat down across from Edgar, she noticed several unopened bottle of beer next to her husband. Apparently, he had decided he needed some refreshments while she had greeted their guest.

"Thank you, Raymond," she responded to Ray's compliment as she perched on the edge of the couch near the two men. Marie watched Edgar expectantly as he just watched their young visitor. After a moment, he simply picked up one of the beers and opened it up. Fighting the urge to scowl at the image her husband was presenting, she soldiered on with the conversation. "I have to admit, we were very surprised when you called. We were …"

Edgar suddenly thrust the open beer towards Ray. "Here," he said gruffly. "You look like you could use one."

"Edgar," his wife hissed in outrage. He glanced over at her and shrugged. "If I had to go meet two strangers and talk about their kid, I'd be nervous as hell. And I'd want a beer before I was going to do it."

Ray was confused by the beer and the offer. Did he really seem that off? He was hoping he seemed calm. Calm enough anyway. He had to appreciate Mr. Hansen's honesty, though.

He gently pushed the beer back with his palm. "It's..uh..it's wrestling season, and I've gotta work on cutting weight soon for a meet." He said. "But thank you, a lot." He added, hastily, in case Mr. Hansen was offended.

He sat there for what felt like a minute afterward, staring, trying to work up what he wanted to say. This was more difficult than he ever thought it would be. Finally he nearly blurted it out instead of calmly saying it.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hansen. Uh. I'd just like to say that..." He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and swallowed. "On that island Annaliese became family to me. And...And..." He looked to the carpet, in between his toes.

"I'm sorry I couldn't bring her back to you."

His eyes were stinging, but he'd be damned if he hurt this family by letting them see him cry like he hurt more than they did.

Edgar nodded in understanding and set the beer alongside its companions. It was obvious the boy had something to say since he was practically choking on it. Ray addressed them, then paused. He watched Marie out of the corner of his eye. She was practically dying to comfort the boy but was restraining herself. Good. Let the boy take a minute to say what he needed to say.

"I'm sorry I couldn't bring her back to you."

…And there it was.

Edgar leaned back in his seat and took another long draw on his cigarette while Marie burst into tears and cried behind her hands. Not wanting to upset Ray, she stood up and quickly excused herself. Edgar waited until she had left the room before addressing the boy in front of him. "I hope that didn't throw you too much, but it's better that we talk man to man."

He exhaled the smoke, watching it slowly curl towards the ceiling. "We didn't watch anything that happened," he explained. "Just knowing what had happened was enough. I'm sure our son managed to seek some viewing time in, but I'm not about to tell his mother that. The wife and I, we didn't want to see our daughter get killed. And we were sure that's what would happen to her since she doesn't have the temperament to kill others. She went through a Buddhist phase for about two months where she threw an absolute fit if we even killed flies in the house."

He tapped his cigarette on the edge of his ashtray, then stubbed it out. "You spent time with her. You understand. So we had been preparing for the fact that she was dead pretty much from day one. And we were…not okay, but had come to terms that we wouldn't be getting her back. Then you all showed up, you escapees. And then we didn't know what to expect." Edgar picked up the beer and rolled it in his hands.

"Son, you have nothing to apologize for. None of this is your fault. You didn't take anyone against their will and you sure as hell didn't wish this on anyone. Be grateful that you've come back. I'm sure your family is."

He could picture Annaliese in her Buddhist phase. He could see her, talking about Nirvana and all that. Even with her brief lapse when she yelled at Jimmy, it made sense.

Ray thought of mom. Of Alicia. Hell, even Mike. They couldn't believe he made it home. And they were grateful. More than.

Ray nodded to Mr. Hansen. "Thank you...so much." He took a breath. "It's just...It's gonna take awhile. I mean, you guys have it worse."

He looked over to where Mrs. Hansen had left.

"I should go check on her."

Mr. Hansen nodded, took a sip from the beer he was holding. Ray got up and followed to where he had seen Mrs. Hansen go.

She was in the kitchen, still trying to compose herself.

"Mrs. Hansen? Are..Are you alright?"

Marie Hansen stiffened at the sink and quickly wiped her eyes. This poor young man and come to talk to them about…about his experience and here she was, falling to pieces in the kitchen. This simply wouldn't do.

"Of course I am, Raymond," she assured him, trying to make her voice cheerful. She stared out the window for a moment. "Can I get you something to drink? We have milk, soy milk, almond milk, decaffeinated green tea, sweet tea, or sodas in the garage."

She turned to face the nice young man who was polite enough to refuse her husband's boorish offer of beer. And to an underage young man, no less. It was one thing when he used to slip the occasional beer to Aric while watching hockey but quite another to offer it to someone else's son. "If you'd like to stay for dinner, my son and daughter will be home in about an hour." Marie smiled at him, hoping he didn't notice the slight catch in her voice when she mentioned Abby.

Everything she said seemed rehearsed, like she'd said it a million times before. He imagined the Hansen family had a nice, easy script worked out for guests. Unfortunately for her, he did slight waver in her voice as she ticked off her children. Sans 1.

"No...I'm good. And I'll have to be leaving soon. Mom's already cooking."

He moved closer to Mrs. Hansen, and again he was struck by how much in looks she resembled her daughter. When in range, he raised a hand and rested it on the woman's shoulder.

"Will you be alright?"

Marie absently patted Ray's hand, the smile fixed on her face. "Of course I will. What a sweet young man you are for asking. The pastor has already put us in touch with someone, and I think we're on about half a dozen prayer chains. We will be fine."

She knew if she looked him in the eye she would break down again. There was so much she wanted to ask him about and so much she was afraid he would tell her. Was it easier to be ignorant and simply imagine what happened? That way, she could always console herself with the thought that television and movies fed her imagination things that were far worse than what her eldest daughter had experience. Or did she owe her child the brutal honesty of facing what had happened, whatever it was?

If nothing else, Annaliese's legacy should be about confronting something head on and not hiding from unpleasantness. Taking a deep breath, Marie looked Ray in the eyes for the first time. "Raymond, would you…" she trailed off as she saw the grief in his eyes.

It would be selfish of her to make him relive whatever he had gone through she decided. At least, that was the lie she told herself as her question died on her tongue. Whatever had happened, God had seen fit to spare her the details. All that mattered was that Annaliese wasn't here. She was never coming home.

Clearing her throat, she tried to cover up her lapse. "I'm sorry, what did you say you would like to drink?"

Ray saw Mrs. Hansen was handling all this in her own way. He felt like he should acknowledge it.

He took his hand off her shoulder, gave a half-smile. "I'll take a Pepsi if you have one. But I really should get going soon.


- - -

Raymond stayed till a quarter of 2, almost an hour after he had arrived. They had talked. Ray had asked questions about the nature of a girl he had known for only a brief amount of time but thought of as much a sister as the one that had come from his own two parents. He left feeling a little better.

He shut the front door quietly behind him and headed out to his car. He fumbled his keys out of his pocket, slid them and opened the door. He glanced up at the front window of the Hansen's home, saw the drapes shift slightly, as if someone had looked out for a half second. He smiled.

Ray fell behind the wheel, pushed the key into the ignition. As his engine sprang to life, so did his radio.

Lately Ray had been leaving his station on an older one, full of hits from the 70's. Maybe it was his father making his presence known, but Ray had been craving it.

He wasn't ready for Bill Wither's mournful voice to emanate from the radio, singing the first line of a song that seemed thematic for the day.

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone..."

Ray's eyes welled up, the tears broke, and he started sobbing, burying his face into the top of the steering wheel. He didn't leave the Hansen residence for another six minutes.

((end thread))


Lest we forget... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tIdIqbv7SPo Thank you Mr. Withers.