Chapter 5
2003
James Buchanan Barnes, the paper read. Jimmy's schedule for 11th grade had come in the mail, a reminder that school was starting only a month away.
"Did you get your schedule for the year?" Jimmy asked Steph later. He'd brought his envelope unopened, in hopes they could see if they had any classes together.
"No, we're still working on getting all of our mail switched over from the old apartment. If it doesn't come by the first day I'll talk to the office."
Jimmy climbed a bough higher on the tree, and reached his arm down for Steph. She took it, and he lifted her easily. She barely weighed over half what he did.
She climbed up to the branch he was on, and hissed as she scraped her knee against the bark.
"You're bleeding," Jimmy observed. She swiped at her knee, but that's not where Jimmy was looking.
He lifted up the hem of her shirt, revealing a cut on her hipbones, right above her jeans and underwear. It was gathered among many other cuts of varying freshness, both scarred, scabbed, and recently broken open. Steph pulled her shirt back down, but it was too late. "Did he do this to you?" Jimmy snarled, ready to jump down and run right to Schmidt's apartment for laying a hand on her.
"No! Jimmy- I did it," Steph told him quickly, grabbing his shoulder to stop him from climbing down.
He'd suspected so before, but hoped it might just be scrapes from the thorns in the woods. "Why?" he implored, holding her hands. She couldn't answer. "Please don't do it anymore."
"I can't promise that."
"Steph, why?"
"Because I'm bad," she sobbed. "I'm bad and I deserve it. Everything terrible that's happening to my mother is because of me."
Jimmy had to be careful that he didn't pry too far. He knew he was the only person Steph trusted, and he wanted to show her that she could tell him anything, even the stuff she didn't want to. "Did he tell you that?"
"No. It has nothing to do with him. I just know it. Mom tells me she loves me and she's glad she had me, but her life would be so different. She wouldn't be so poor. Or so sick."
"It's not your fault she's sick."
"It is. Most of her problems started after she had me." Steph sighed and hugged Jimmy. He pulled her into his lap. "He wants her to marry him."
Jimmy was filled with rage. "You can't let her do that."
"Why not? He doesn't treat her as bad as he used to. She's not as worried now that she has more money. He even said that he'd adopt me, and send me to a catholic girl's school. He said I wouldn't get so bullied there."
Jimmy didn't want her to go to another school. Maybe it was selfish of him, and she would have been happier somewhere else, but they hadn't known each other last year. This year he could look out for her, protect her. They were engaged, after all. "You really believe him? He'll get even more control over both of you. She's just scared to act against him and he knows it. That's why he's been treating her better. The second he's married her and adopted you, there's nothing you can do to get rid of him. Then his true self will come out again and he'll go back to hitting her. He might hit you. Or worse."
Steph wouldn't look him in the eyes. "Mom said we're lucky he even wants us. She said most guys don't want single moms."
Jimmy took her chin and forced her to keep eye contact. She set her mouth in a line, but turned her sky-blue eyes to his. "I don't care what she says. If she was thinking with her right mind she wouldn't be within a thousand feet of him. You don't ever stay with a guy just because you're lucky he wants you, okay? You both deserve more than that."
"They're signing the paperwork next week," she whispered. "I didn't know how to tell you."
So it was already a done deal. In the fall they'd be going to two different schools, and there was no telling how often they'd be able to see each other. "How much time do we have left?"
"Three weeks," she told him. "Private school starts sooner than public."
No wonder she hadn't gotten her class schedule yet.
He felt a little better that she was going to an all-girls school. If she was bullied, at least it wouldn't be so physical, by boys way stronger than her. And when he got his license, maybe he could talk her mom into driving Steph to school every day. They would make a plan together, somehow.
He wanted to kiss her before the summer was over.
They made the most out of the days they had left. They met up earlier and stayed out later, and Jimmy even skipped some of his unimportant sports practices to spend more days with her. It wasn't long before his parents caught on.
"I hope you're seeing a girl during all this time you're not spending at sports, James," his father told him judgmentally from his recliner where he read a doctor's journal magazine.
"I am."
"Good. Don't want the boys at school to think you're some kind of queer. Why haven't you brought her home?"
"Yes, James dear," Winnifred called from the kitchen, making dinner.
Because you'd scare her to death, Jimmy wanted to answer. "She's from the broke part of town. She doesn't have nice clothes, and she knows we're well off. I think she'd be embarrassed."
"Well, then don't you buy her clothes with your allowance? That'll send a signal to the other boys that she's taken." James Barnes Senior had the type of authority that was incontestable. At least, it was to him. His view of the world was absolute, and to disagree was high treason. It got Jimmy into trouble, because he'd always been one to think for himself. He often thought his father might love him if he was just a robot that he could program all his commands into, and then Jimmy would end up just like him. A doctor, with a child-rearing wife who obeyed every word he said. Jimmy didn't even want children.
"Maybe," Jimmy responded noncommittally.
"Buy her a nice dress and bring her home for dinner, dear," his mother instructed. Dad nodded approvingly.
Jimmy almost laughed at the thought of Steph in a dress. Maybe it was better off if she didn't meet them at all.
"My parents want to meet you," he told her the next day.
She whipped her head up. She'd been drawing him again, practicing her character work. "You told them about me?"
He shrugged. "They asked who I was spending all my time with. I was honest. Doesn't your mom know you're out here with me?"
"No." Steph resumed drawing. "She thinks I'm alone." That hurt Bucky, although he wasn't sure why. He'd met the woman. He thought he at least had a right for Steph to share about him. "You're older, and she'd just worry. It's better if she thinks I'm alone. Sometimes I get back before she even notices I'm gone."
"I'm not that much older," Bucky muttered. Did a year really make so much of a difference?
Steph just sighed. "Trust me. If she knew, then Schmidt would know."
There she had a point. "If he adopts you, does that mean your name will be Stephanie Schmidt?"
She scowled. "I'd rather die than take his last name."
"Do you get a choice?"
She shrugged. "Doesn't matter what they want to call me. I'm changing my name anyway."
"What are you changing it to?"
"Stephanie Grace Barnes, of course."
Jimmy smiled. It sounded good. "Do you want kids?"
"Hell no."
"Really? Why not?"
"Parents always screw their kids up. Look at both of ours. They think they're really doing what's best for me. And maybe my mom is doing what's safest, but it's gonna make me miserable."
"I don't know if they always want what's best-" Jimmy started.
"Sure they do. Why do you think your dad wants you to be a doctor so bad? It's because it's been successful for him, and he just wants to see you have the same success he does because that means happiness to them. They can't imagine a life where you could be happy without doing what they want. Children should be given the materials they need to have a good life, and then they should be allowed to decide what they want to do with it."
"So isn't that a reason to have kids?" Jimmy argued, just to see Steph's point. "Go right where your parents went wrong, and raise a child who is free to do whatever they want?"
"Sure. And that's what our parents did. My mom had me to prove to her mom that she wouldn't be so strict. And your parents probably had you to prove they could do it better than their parents. Just because it's better doesn't mean it's good. I'd rather not have kids at all and just not screw anything up."
"Me too. I just wanted to hear your reasons." They agreed on their wedding, not having children, and most other topics. "Would you wait until after marriage to have sex?"
"Nah. I'm not ready for it yet. Maybe in a year or two."
"Really? A lot of my friends lost theirs at 15."
"You're still a virgin, right?"
"Nope," Jimmy lied. "I've had two girlfriends before. Even if you wouldn't want to have sex yet, would you want to give a blowjob? Or a handjob?"
Steph looked up from her drawing and pursed her lips. "If you want to orgasm so bad, you can do that yourself. Sex is about love and I'm not ready for it."
"What, you don't love me? We're getting married."
"Sure I do, but not in a way where I'd wanna have sex yet. I just got… well, we'll have plenty of time for that later."
"You do? You've never said it."
"Neither have you."
Jimmy stole her pencil and notepad, grabbed the portrait of himself, and wrote: "Steph- I love you. Jimmy" on the margin.
She snatched it back. "That's not the same."
"Not saying it unless you do first," Bucky called.
"Not saying it unless I'm ready," Steph responded.
But it was just teasing. They had the rest of their lives.
"Let's have a sleepover," Jimmy told her. "No sex, I promise. Tell your mom you're at a friend's house, and I'll tell my parents the same thing."
"Where will we sleep?"
"Right here! No one ever comes out here anymore. I have a tent I'll bring. It'll be great."
"I don't know, Jimmy. What if there's a bear or something?"
"Aww, I'll protect you, sweetheart. No need to be scared."
"Shut up, fine. When?"
"Next weekend?" Jimmy proposed. Neither of them acknowledged it'd be the last weekend of their summer together, but they knew.
There was a heated energy in the days leading up to the weekend. They planned what they would bring. Steph told her mom she'd met a girl her age while she was down at the creek, and she was going to the same catholic school in the fall. Sara approved Steph sleeping over at her house so she'd have at least one friend when the year started. Jimmy told his parents he was sleeping over at Tony's, and they didn't care. Jimmy planned on bringing popcorn, PB&J sandwiches, the tent, blankets and pillows, and a flashlight. Steph would bring comic books, candy, and her gameboy.
Jimmy meant what he said about no sex, but he didn't see why they couldn't do other stuff. He wanted to make out with her a little at least. No pressure; just kissing and maybe touching her breasts. He thought she was just insecure. He didn't care that her breasts were small. He loved her just the way she was, skinny and gangly. If she felt comfortable kissing him, then maybe he'd do more, like touch her down there. He imagined going back to school and telling all his friends that while they were away at summer camp, he started dating a hot blonde who was going to catholic school. They'd be so jealous.
Two days before the sleepover, Steph's eyes were red and puffy, but she wouldn't tell him why.
"Did he hurt you? Did he hurt Sara? If he did, you have to tell me. You promised."
Steph shook her head. "He didn't touch us," she said, but Jimmy didn't miss how her answer was careful enough to hide other ways he could hurt them.
"Did he make you promise not to tell anyone? I won't do anything about, I swear. I just want to know."
"I think he's on cocaine again," Steph admitted. "He didn't touch us. He just made us both stand really still while he…" she trailed off into tears. Jimmy rubbed her shoulder and waited patiently for her to go on. "He has a knife collection. He got a new butterfly knife and wanted to show me. I told him I didn't want to see it. He called me a d-dyke and said I should be into tomboy shit like that." She paused for a sob. "Mom told me just to look at it. He told us to stand up against a wall and threw the knives at us. He didn't hit us! He's a good shot- he didn't even come close. He just scared me because he was so high."
"Oh, Steph." Jimmy held her tight. "You have to do something. It's going to get worse. He'll get violent again."
"They already signed the papers. There's nothing we can do now."
Steph was cutting herself again, even though Jimmy told her not to. She winced sometimes when she sat down and he could tell she was breaking the scabs on her hips.
He had a plan. If Schmidt hurt them- either of them- even once, even by accident, he was going to call CPS. Even if Steph got taken away from Sara, if Schmidt went to jail, it was worth it. Even if Steph went to a different city. Even if she was mad at Jimmy and she never wanted to talk to him again, it was better than doing nothing. He'd prefer for her to be alive and mad at him than the alternative.
But he'd made his plan too late.
The day of the sleepover, Jimmy went to the creek early to set up. Then he went over to Steph's house, just a block away so her mom wouldn't see him, but he could help carry stuff down.
He checked his watch. Fifteen minutes late. A half hour.
He started getting nervous, so he walked closer to her house. Then he saw her run out of the back door at full speed, tears streaming down her face. "Jimmy!" she screamed. "He's gonna kill her!"
The blood drained from his face. He ran faster than he ever had in his life, reaching the door in only a few seconds. He threw it open and dashed inside, to where he heard shouting.
"Are you fucking him, you bitch?!" Schmidt was shouting, and slapping Sara. With his left hand, he had the picture of Jimmy clenched in his fist. Schmidt didn't even remember him from before, when he thought Jimmy was Steph's boyfriend. He must have been high, then, or now, or both.
"No!" Sara screamed, scrambling to try to get away. "He's just some kid, I swear!"
"Let. Her. Go," Bucky growled, giving Schmidt one chance to release Sara before he punched him.
Schmidt spun around to face him, one hand still gripping Sara's shirt. "Are you dating my wife?"
"No! I'm dating Steph!"
"Steph?" Sara asked, eyes darting back and forth between her and Jimmy. "Is this true?"
Sara looked at the floor.
"What? She's fifteen, she can do what she wants," Jimmy told them both. "And in two years I'm gonna be eighteen, she'll be seventeen, and we're going to get married. And then neither of you are ever going to see us again."
"Is that so?" Schmidt asked, releasing Sara at last. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun.
It was all Jimmy could focus on. He wanted to fight, to wrestle the gun from Schmidt's hand, call the police and save everyone, but he felt himself freeze with fear. He didn't know Schmidt had a gun.
He heard screams, Sara's and Steph's both, but they sounded like they were coming from far away. His entire world tunneled down to just Schmidt holding the gun.
"Think you're all grown up, huh? Think you can talk to me like I'm just trash? Well, I'm Stephanie's father, now. If you want her, you gotta ask me for her hand."
Jimmy spit on Schmidt's shoes. "Fuck you."
Schmidt hit him with the butt of the gun, and Jimmy's vision went dark.
He wasn't sure how long it was until he came to. Only a few minutes, he hoped. When he opened his eyes, he was looking into Sara's.
They were both laying on the parquet floor of the dining room. Jimmy lifted his head, and it felt sticky. He touched a hand to it and felt blood. Then he saw the blood. A whole pool of it on the floor that he'd been laying in. He panicked for a moment when he thought it had come from his head. Then he noticed that Sara wasn’t moving.
Then he saw the gunshot. It was on her right temple, the side facing up from the floor. Her lifeless eyes stared out. His gaze followed down the line of her body, where she held the gun in her right hand.
No. She wouldn't have killed herself. Schmidt must have gotten her to do it somehow. Put the gun in her hand and forced her to pull the trigger, or he'd kill Steph, maybe.
Jimmy ran to the home phone and called his dad. Then he called the police. They were both there in seconds. Jimmy ran out to tell the police what had happened, but they had already been dispatched by an earlier call. Someone had reported the suicide.
"Where's Steph?!" He shouted at the officer, while his father held his arms back.
"Son! Sit down and let the police do their jobs. We need to see if you have a concussion."
He did have a concussion. The rest of the day was a blur. The police seemed to have it in their heads that Sara was a neglectful mother who killed herself, and Schmidt had taken his step-daughter somewhere safe. Jimmy was sure it was Schmidt himself who had called the police, told them his side of the story first, and turned everything around on Jimmy. He couldn't even imagine what he was doing to Steph now. Maybe she was dead already.
"I want to press charges," Jimmy's dad was saying to the policeman. "An adult assaulted my son, and you're just going to let him get away with it?"
"Mr. Barnes, with all due respect, that's your son's version of the story. Johann has been very cooperative during this entire process, and that's unlikely from someone who recently murdered his wife."
Jimmy had underestimated him so terribly.
Steph was reported missing two days later, what was supposed to be her first day at catholic school. Jimmy knew what had happened. She'd seen her first opportunity to get away from Schmidt, and she'd taken it. She ran. She'd come either to the creek or to his house. Jimmy went to the creek every day. He printed out missing posters and stapled them to every post. The police weren't even trying to find her- they'd even gotten her age wrong. She was so small and skinny, it was easy to assume she might only be 12.
School started. He still didn't give up. He asked every freshman at high school if they knew her, but no one remembered her. It was like she'd never even existed.
He cried into Winnifred's arms every night.
"Oh, honey," she comforted him. "She probably got hit by a car or kidnapped by someone, if she did escape from him. It's even more likely that he killed her after he shot Sara. 90% of people who were moved to a secondary crime location don't make it."
"But she's out there, mom," he wept. "I know she is."
His dad checked the morgue every day. He had all his doctors in other hospitals check their morgues as well.
Fifteen y.o. female, 5'2", 90 lbs. Blonde hair, blue eyes.
A month passed. Two. The posters started to peel off the posts.
He held onto the only picture of her he had. He spoke to her every night.
"I know you're out there," he told her. "I'm not giving up. I'll find you. I promise."
Six months in, he missed going to the creek. Eight months in, he went once a week. Nine months later he lost his virginity. Ten months later he started dating her. Two years out he graduated and got a job. Five years later he moved away to New York City. Ten years after she went missing, the police closed the case. Bucky didn't even know. Eventually, he believed what his mother had told him. She was probably dead after she escaped from Schmidt, if she'd survived escape at all.