Discovery

by Douglas E Roff

  “Pre-existing condition. He’d be fine, the little pervert. But I understand your point. No good ever comes from outright deceit, so thoughts of past romances stop here. Today.” Misti hugged her troubled friend.

  Then Misti said, “Here’s the plan. We wait until we’re both widows, then we live together and fuck our brains out. Deal?”

  “Deal.” Cindy turned to walk away, then stopped. “You know, at Christmas parties people get tipsy and do all sorts of inappropriate things. Mistletoe and stuff like that. I can be seduced.”

  Cindy sprinted away, then shouted back to Misti, “But only by you!”

  Chapter 34

  “OK old man, you called this meeting making some pretty bold promises. I have delivered my husband to your yawning clutches, so what gives?”

  “I just hugged my newlywed son. Is that ‘delivery to my yawning clutches’?”

  “Yes, you old liar. Where’s my clutch, by the way?” Edward put his arms around his kids, both of whom he adored and in whom he took so much pride and delight. He kissed each on their foreheads then let them go, taking his seat behind his huge and ancient desk. As is the norm with non-verbal communication, Edward signalled that the pleasantries were over, and the serious stuff was about to begin.

  “You two have questions. I hope to have answers. Whether they’re the answers you’re looking for is another matter but the only thing I will ask of you before we start is to be sure the answers you are looking for are the answers you really want. I don’t suppose I need to tell you that some secrets are just not worth knowing.”

  Edward peered in Misti’s direction, but she stood tall, firm and resolute, unfazed by Edward’s practiced subtleties.

  Misti said, “Stop your threats old man. We’re young but we’re not children. We were both raised by you, taught by you and answered to you. All our lives, and we have barely complained about it. Some more than others.” Misti held tight to Adams arm, though in a contest of wills, Misti was way better prepared for an ‘Edward’ conflict than Adam. Poor Adam was Edward’s son, a distinct advantage for the old geez. “We were tutored by you to be calm under fire, so let’s see how we do right now. Adam has questions and I want to hear your answers too, so let’s get started.”

  Edward was Edward and always seeking even the slightest of advantages. But today he led from a position of weakness; he just didn’t know it.

  “So, Adam, do you always let your wife do the talking? Or do you have something to say too?”

  “Nice Dad. Start with a kick to the crotch. Attack the manhood. If you weren’t my father, I’d probably be kicking your ass right now.” He continued, “And yes, my wife does speak for me. Whenever she wants and on any topic. She knows me and you better than we know ourselves. She’s smart and tough and single minded in watching out for me and the family. That includes you. But she doesn’t take a stupid pill in the morning, so stop this shit right now and try something new. Just tell the truth.”

  Edward appeared chastened, or was he just surprised by his son’s response? “What do you want to know, son?”

  “Two things today. One for you to think about the other you need to spill. OK?”

  “You have the microphone. What’s on your mind?”

  “The question I want you to consider is the whole history from day one of your involvement in the life of my wife. Everything that you did, why you did it and what your endgame is. I’ll give you time to consider it and to get your story straight with Misti, but I want to hear from you on this.”

  “Hardly seems necessary, Adam. Why don’t you just ask your wife? She’s standing right next to you. Surely you trust her to fess up to all our shenanigans. Plus, you can be certain that it’s the truth. It would be the truth, wouldn’t it Misti dear?”

  Edward once again fixed his gaze on Misti, holding deep eye contact before releasing to his son. But this time, Edward saw only the blank cold stare of a woman who was about to erupt but would reserve her fury while her husband was present.

  “Don’t.” Misti said quietly.

  “OK, I’ll think on it and we can have a chat when you’re ready. Can I assume that you’ve already started your research with your wife? Or are we starting from scratch?”

  “You can assume nothing and any discussions Misti and I have is between husband and wife. Privileged and none of your business.”

  “OK. Then what is the other question of the day?”

  “Mom. The whole story and leave nothing out. Start with the coffee shop in LA and go on from there.”

  “What do you want to know, exactly?”

  “No, you don’t. We’re not playing twenty questions. You narrate the book. Now, just tell us what happened?”

  Unfazed, Edward continued. “Alrighty then, have a seat. This won’t be any fun. For either of you.”

  Misti and Adam sat down on the small couch fixed against the opposite wall facing Edward at his desk. To be more conversational, Edward would have to get up from behind his desk and come around to be closer. Or Misti and Adam would’ve to sit in the chairs across his desk, like grad students coming in to beg a favor. This neither was willing to do, though each reached that conclusion separately and without discussion. Adam put his arm around Misti as they sat on the couch and snuggled close. A solid wall, impenetrable by ordinary human beings. Edward rose, came around and pulled up a chair, moving closer to his kids.

  “First let me begin by saying that I will tell you anything and everything I know about whatever it is that you want to learn. I will answer your questions fully and honestly. You are both adults, family and deserve to be fully informed. But know that all I have ever wanted is for you both, whether you were together or not, was to be healthy and happy. I don’t need to tell either of you what issues I have worried about when it came to your … inclinations. It was always my hope that you would find each other in the wilderness of the world. And we made it hard on both of you, I know.”

  “We?” asked Misti.

  “Your father and me.”

  “But not my Mom?”

  “No, not your mother. Your Mom was … fragile in many ways, utterly ruthless in others. She hated me and did from the very start. That much was clear to her but what to do with you wasn’t. The conflict in her mind nearly destroyed her, between the things she fervently believed in and the life she was living. Your desires, let’s call them, were difficult to integrate into her rich fantasy of her marrying your father, then having a daughter who would be obedient, loving and deeply religious. She saw you in cute dresses, wildly anticipating your quinceanera and then getting married and having grandkids for her to adore and spoil. By the age of eight, she already knew that her fantasy was over, and that reality would truly be harsh. She was distraught from that day forward and her life thereafter was truly a nightmare. But it was altogether different for your dad and for me,” Edward said.

  Misti screwed up her face as if starting to speak. Then she changed her mind. “Sorry, go on.” Misti clutched Adam’s hand, as if some revelation had just burst into consciousness. However, in fact, it was simply a confirmation of what everyone in the family already knew. Hearing it spoken out loud, though, was a different matter. That made it very real and it was deeply sad.

  “So, I just want you both to put whatever I tell you in the context of the reality Carlos and I faced, both of us wanting only what we thought was best for the both of you. We both love you so much and so deeply that we believed that everything we decided and did after the ‘incident in the park’, and for the many years that followed, was for your own good. If you believe nothing else, you must believe this.”

  “Dad, we know this. It’s probably the only thing we do know and about which we are both dead certain. But it changes nothing. Now, what about Mom?”

  “I’ll give you the Cliff Notes/Coles Notes abbreviated version. Feel free to ask me to fill in details.” Edward looked down, then looked up at his kids. He began.

  C
hapter 35

  “Your mother had a very close friend from her days on the street before we met. They were close and close in ways that I never truly understood but never felt compelled to explore. I had baggage, even at a very early age, and we just sort of agreed that some things didn’t need to be known or shared. And we never ever needed to discuss. We decided that anything that happened before the day we met was up for discussion only if one of us wanted to talk about it and the other wanted to listen. It was a deeply distressing and personal decision to talk about our lives before ‘us’ and most of it that we eventually brought up was cathartic. I revealed all the pain and fears of my childhood and upbringing, every incident and tale and gave it to this woman in hopes of healing my soul. And, in return, she shared her pain with me. But not everything and not always fully. Your mother was an accomplished listener and a more accomplished human being. She always knew what to say to me, how to turn a phrase, how to move me toward a deeper understanding of the reality of my own life.”

  Edward paused, thinking to himself, then continued.

  “And she made me understand that no matter what I said to her, she would always love me and understand me and help me through a life I couldn’t seem to comprehend. When I say that she was everything to me, I cannot emphasize all the many levels on which that was true. At first, I had trouble believing her but over time, and because of her infinite patience, I came to trust her in ways I couldn’t otherwise imagine. She knew me. And she loved me. And when that realization came into my own consciousness, I finally understood what love meant. It was a thunderbolt, a revelation and I thanked God, from whom I had been voluntarily separated, for this gift He had given me.

  “You must understand this if you are to understand the rest of my story. If you don’t you will simply see me as a monster, which I am. But I am not just that however. I hope you will believe me when I say that while I am given to a many great bad impulses, they are always restrained and never directed at the weak or innocent. The bad things I have done were to those deserving of the Wrath of God, and in these instances, I was His instrument on Earth.”

  Edward paused, watching his kids carefully, looking for the horror in their eyes that he would never see.

  Misti and Adam had heard nothing so far that created even a ripple of concern. Misti squeezed Adam’s hand. He held her even tighter.

  Edward continued, “So your Mom got a call one day from her friend, inviting her for a girls’ afternoon of shopping, gossiping and baby minding. Both ladies had found happiness, had gotten pregnant at about the same time and both needed to gush about their significant others and exquisite children. Not only was each child perfect in every way, each would one day be President of the United States, one after the other. That much was certain, and each felt the promise and beauty of a life that had newly begun. And each knew their new lives would be fulfilling in every possible way.

  “Anna’s friend was Laura Wilson, former addict and call girl. Now clean and with her beauty rapidly restoring to all parts of her physical being, these two women had been kicked to the curb but brought back to life by a combination of toughness, perseverance, indomitable spirit and love. Simple love. Each had found a man, a good man, who needed them more than they had ever needed any man.

  And in that mutual pain and longing for connection, and after an unimaginable length of time wandering the streets of LA and countess other places, the girls found one another. It was, in the truest sense of the word, a miracle. Together they were strong and could endure. Their individual happiness had been truly earned and wasn’t simply happenstance.

  “In that spirit, they convened at that coffee shop in LA, each to brag on her fresh new family and accept and revel in the deep, abiding and durable love they felt for each other.

  “In that same coffee shop was a young Latino student attending UCLA, born and raised in San Ysidro, who looked very much like another Latino who hailed from East LA. The latter man was a gangbanger, and, had it been him, it would’ve been a violation of some territorial gang law of restricting where he was allowed to be. Had it been him, he shouldn’t have been in that part of town, shouldn’t have been in that coffee shop and shouldn’t have been so disrespectful of gang territorial boundaries.

  “Another man, a certain Danny Figueroa, was a well-known and notorious gangbanger out for a ride with his hommies and had spotted this unfortunate but mistaken young man as he drove by. Danny was incensed at this insulting miscreant, ordered his driver to turn around and pulled out a semi-automatic pistol to teach him a lesson. The car paused in front of the coffee shop, where Danny Figueroa got out, and emptied two eighteen round clips into the busy establishment. It was midafternoon, and seven people were killed, four permanently disabled and the rest of the survivors frightened to death with nightmares for years to come. Coincidentally the man Danny was trying to kill was completely untouched, having just popped in to the men’s room.

  “Anna and Laura were killed instantly, each with a bullet to their heads, while each baby, still in their strollers crying for their mothers, were untouched. Anna and Laura had been sitting by the big picture window, enjoying the morning sun on a bright LA spring day. The brick wall enclosing the big picture window saved your life, Adam, and that of Laura’s son, Tony.

  “The police investigated, did their CSI best to find witnesses that would come forward, and after more than a year of investigation, concluded that nothing could be done even though they were sure they knew who was responsible. They couldn’t build a case. The case remained open but unless something new broke, Danny Figueroa would skate. Shortly after that, Danny Figueroa was convicted on an armed robbery charge and sentenced to prison for seven years.” Edward looked up, looking for a signal to stop or move on. Adam signaled ‘move on’.

  “Now scroll forward a few years and we’re now living in Barrows Bay, my tryst with alcohol long over and my new extended family from Oaxaca now living in Seattle. Everyone in the Eight Families knows this story and nobody talks about it. One day I get a call from Carlos and another family member, who shall remain nameless, that they had some information for me and could I come down to discuss it.

  “Carlos told me that the guy who killed my Anna had finished serving a nickel in a State Penitentiary in Cali but was getting out on early release. What did I want to do, if anything? I told your father, Misti, that I wanted Danny to pay for his crime and that I wanted his help in making it so. Your father made some calls, told me where and when we were going to LA and we flew into LAX from SeaTac like a couple of tourists.

  “We stopped by a house, where I collected some tools, then proceeded to the warehouse district near the airport. Danny was shackled to a chair, six guys surrounding him, each with guns in hand and looking very unpleasant. They were that and probably more.

  “Carlos spoke to them privately and they left. Your Dad said they would be back in three days to clean up, but the place was ours until then. Then your Dad asked me what I wanted him to do. I asked him to leave. He gave me the key to the warehouse and I asked him to help me get Danny into the non- functioning cold storage locker, then take off.”

  “Danny struggled but to no avail. I closed the door to the locker and asked Danny if he knew who I was and why I was here. He said no. So, I proceeded to explain to him who I was, who Anna was and what he had done. He seemed, how should I phrase this, uncaring about my plight - and Anna’s. He explained that what I was doing was illegal and I should leave this to the cops. I told him I had already tried that once but now preferred my own private solution – Old Testament justice. I also explained to him what a sociopath was, why I might fit into that definition, what I had already accomplished in my short criminal life and how I was about to expand my horizons. He was going to help me out and I would derive a great deal of satisfaction from his assistance.

  “Poor fella, he thought I meant to have sex with him, but that only underscored his lack of imagination when it came to the finer things
in life. No, I explained, I wouldn’t violate him in that way. But I doubted he would enjoy anything else I had in mind for him.

  “His journey to certain death was almost predictable. First, he threatened me in English, then Spanish then some local variation of pocho. He was quite graphic in his choice of vocabulary, but he soon realized that I was quite serious and completely insane. Next came the attempt to bargain, to give me things that could make this all go away. I told him I would consider his offer but then I removed two of his fingers with a cigar cutter when I told him no. Normally, listening to someone screaming and writhing in pain would have a certain effect on any normal human being. Pity and humanity should prevent anyone from continuing with such a monstrous activity but, unfortunately for him, in this case it did not.

  “Off came two more fingers, then a toe on each foot. By now he was passing out regularly, so I gave him some fortification against blacking out while keeping him wide awake. No pain killers though. That would be cheating.

  “The next stage was begging for his life, which he did frequently, invoking God and explaining that his wife and children, along with several mistresses and their children, would be left without his support and guidance. I mentioned that this didn’t assist his case much, he having just made me a widower and my young son motherless. He failed to see the justice in my righteous cause but began to accept his fate by the end of the second day in my custody.

  “Suffice it to say that all the lessons I learned as a student of archeology surrounding the torture techniques of many ancient cultures, including the English and Spanish Inquisitions, came back to me in glorious technicolor. I would even suggest that I had a bit of a flare for the subject matter and briefly contemplated experimenting with new methods of skills development. Unfortunately for me, by the end of the third day, he passed away but not before he begged me to leave his families alone through the incoherent screams from the pain and torture I inflicted upon his person. The cold storage locker was a bloody mess and slices of body parts were strewn everywhere.