The Predecessor

by Kimberly McGath

  They tried to muffle their laughter. “Try Puca,” Luca offered trying to act sympathetic. He glanced over at his friend for help but knew nothing insulting rhymed with Jagan. He felt bad for the teacher who had been ridiculed his entire life over his surname, but he was beginning to see how volatile he was. He wondered if there was something more to it.

  “I see. Come in, both of you. Take a seat.” They trekked in admiring the artwork and jade statues adorning the professor’s shelves. There were some Jians and daos adorning the walls. Luca shielded his man parts with his hands. No wang for Zhang he thought. Holding back another laugh, he was impressed at his comedic rhyme, but he was a little concerned if he said the wrong thing Zhang might lose his shit and slice his junk with a sword.

  “Well, come, come. I don’t have all day. Can I offer you boys a drink?”

  Luca and Jagan turned their heads simultaneously and said no so quick and loud it startled the professor. Luca had told Jagan months earlier about the frat incident. In addition to the blaze, someone had slipped a laxative into the Hunch Punch and the Lambdas were crapping themselves for weeks.

  “I was hoping you could help me with this translation. I’m pretty sure it’s Chinese.” Jagan said careful not to say anything that ended with ang.

  “Is it Mandarin or Cantonese?” Professor Pootietang tilted his head. He was eyeing Jagan like the Coyote would the Roadrunner. Luca took one look at the Chinese morning stars on Zhang’s desk and shielded his parts again.

  “I’m not sure.” Jagan replied glancing over at Luca who was squeezing his knees together as if he had to pee. He squinted his eyes at his Italian friend and mouthed the words “stop.” He didn’t want to tick off the professor at least until they got the translation. The teacher was thin and older, but he had that look to him, like he could conjure up Bruce Lee and kick some solid ass. The distinctive sounds of a Pipa twanged in an imagination of the professor in a Gi. He pictured a Kung Fu scene in which Zhang took on all the Lambdas at once.

  “All right. Let’s take a look.” Jagan handed the professor a piece of paper.

  Unfolding it, he put on his glasses. Ah ha ha. Professor Zhang’s face crinkled.

  “Is it that funny?” Luca asked. Not as funny as the rhymes at least.

  “No, it’s your spelling.” The professor directed his gaze towards Jagan. “You should sign up for my class too.” Jagan glanced over at Luca and protruded his tongue, looking like a baby that had just sucked on a lemon. Professor Zhang continued, “But I think I understand what you were trying to write.”

  “Okay, well what does it mean?” Luca asked. He wished the professor would just get to the point so he could uncover his junk. It was mentally exhausting having to protect his wang from Zhang and his swords.

  The professor’s mouth curved downwards and the lines in his forehead deepened. “Help us. It means…help us.” Zhang spoke with a singsong sound that made the translation more ominous.

  “What about the next line?” Jagan was eager but fearful to hear. He had a feeling it wasn’t good.

  “Is this some kind of joke or something,” the professor said rising from his chair. He walked over to one of the shelves and picked up a bronze sculpture of a dragon. Luca took a big sigh, relieved it wasn’t one of the blades. Zhang looked out the window and rubbed his hands over the statue as if he were conjuring up a genie. Maybe he was wishing the Lambdas would get the runs again.

  “What is it professor?” Luca asked.

  “I’ll tell you but then you both get out of my classroom and never come back.” The boys had some nerve asking for a favor and insulting him like this.

  Luca and Jagan faced each other and raised their shoulders in confusion. They both turned back towards the professor and nodded their heads to agree to his terms.

  “It says…” The professor took a sip of water and whispered, “Death to the Chinese.”

  Chapter 9

  The tinkling of the wind chimes grew louder as the winds picked up. Kaya and her best friend Bethany were perched on the swing fastened to the cedar beam of the wrap-around porch. They had met years earlier at a bingo hall and had been thick as thieves ever since. Kaya loved to gamble. Every Thursday she packed her lucky blotter and swore on her way out that the day of her big score had finally arrived.

  Bethany was a widow from Brooklyn. Brilliant, but she squandered the gift away. A walking medical encyclopedia, each week she convinced herself she was suffering from a new ailment. It was like someone plucked the hypochondriac right out of a Woody Allen film. Luca nicknamed her Batshit Bethany. Aside from her eccentricities though, she was hilarious and could give any stand up a run for their money.

  Jagan overheard Bethany describing her new disease of the week–pseudobulbar palsy. She must have seen that recent ad they had been running on TV. She was so convinced she was going to die from it, she began writing her will and making funeral arrangements. Jagan knew she was laughing and crying out of the blue because she was going through “the change” but he wasn’t about to be the one to break the news. Besides, he thought she was happier believing she was terminal than being afflicted with something as unspeakable as menopause.

  Bethany yelled out hello. He wished they hadn’t noticed him, because he was certain she was going to try and set him up with her daughter again. Bethany had sprung her on him once before by just showing up unannounced for dinner. He was certain Kaya was in on it. Jagan had to excuse himself from the table and secretly put in ear plugs because the sounds nearly deafened him. Luca kept kicking him under the table and nicknamed her Melissa the Pissa after hearing her snort. He came up with it when he said she bugged the piss out of him and the name stuck. Luca didn’t stop there. He said the Pissa would die a spinster because there was no way any man’s ears could survive that kind of torture. Jagan actually thought she was a nice girl to the point he actually looked up a cure for snortling online.

  Bethany announced she had to leave to pick up a friend from the airport. After she stood up, she threw in another pitch for Melissa the Pissa. Jagan rolled his eyes at Kaya as he hugged Bethany goodbye.

  Kaya stared sightlessly into the distance after her friend left. Nothing but oaks and swampland. Usually she was in a good mood after a visit with her Bingo buddy, so something was on her mind.

  “You might want to ash that.” Jagan suggested in a sarcastic tone. She had a habit of letting her cinders get too long. He referred to any long embers as a “Kaya.”

  “How was your trip to campus?” She tried to regain her train of thought. Following his advice, she tapped her Camel against the ceramic tray. She knew Jagan worked hard to help out the family, but she had such dreams for him. She had managed to put aside a little money out of each paycheck to pay for his education, but all he cared about was bodybuilding and his plans for a future as a career soldier. Kaya was trying not to be too obvious with her questioning, but she was hoping his visit to the school piqued his interest.

  “It’s a nice school I guess. By the way, didn’t Lolli have something to do with that Truman Capote case?”

  “Which one?” Damn. He was already changing the subject. It was always like a chess match with him, she thought. Each time she would capture one of his pawns, he would tackle one of her knights when she wasn’t looking.

  “You know, In Cold Blood.”

  Kaya averted his gaze. “Oh, that. There was a big fuss about it in the papers before you were born. Your grandmother didn’t talk about it much after. Why do you ask?”

  “I monitored Luca’s literature class. The professor gave a lecture on the book. It sounds pretty damn interesting.”

  “Language,” she held up her hands as if he had just thrown out the F-bomb. Kaya had a mouth like a trucker but around her son she pretended otherwise. He found the class interesting. She’d just captured his rook. “I can’t believe they’re still analyzing that book after all these years. There were several movies made about it too you know.”

  “Really?
I wonder if she’d give me the inside scoop.” Jagan turned around and stared out through the porch screen. Lolli was out in the greenhouse tending to her Camellias, the glory of her garden.

  “Don’t go bothering your grandmother about that. You know she hasn’t been the same since…” Kaya didn’t want to mention the subject by name. She had tried so hard to protect him and keep him from it. She wasn’t sure how much he remembered.

  Jagan disregarded the warning and began his descent down the steps. That was another odd thing about his mother. She was always trying to keep his grandmother away from him. They were hiding something from him and he was determined to figure it out.

  “Why don’t you talk to Pop? I’m sure he recollects it. He accompanied her out to Kansas to exhume the bodies.” Kaya recalled their trip and how pissed off they were when they discovered she’d left her brothers home alone to go on a fishing trip. She never lived that one down.

  “Nah. He’s out in the fields on the tractor.” Jagan’s grandpa was like a father to him. Pop was an excellent stand-in even though he missed his father terribly.

  Kaya opened the porch door, “Think there’s still some old newspapers up in the attic.” Jagan didn’t bother to turn around but acknowledged her with a wave of his hand. Thud. His mother could say more with the slam of a door than mere words. He wasn’t even sure why she was upset. He exhaled and balled up his fists. He would do some extra reps later to relieve the tension. That nagging question still lingered in his mind…What were they hiding?

  Chapter 10

  The mist swallowed much of the swamp and crept over to the greenhouse levitating over it like a frame. Jagan gently opened the glass door and stepped inside. Kimi’s raven hair was invaded by a thin stretch of ivory locks on one side. Jagan could never understand why she didn’t cut it. Most women in Georgia kept their hair short, but she was never one to follow trends.

  Schlit. The water droplets struck the creeping fig which encircled the inner walls of the nursery. “Something on your mind Papoose?” Lolli kept on spraying the fichus.

  “You know I’m getting too old for that Kimi.”

  “That’s Lolli to you and not to me you’re not. Just because you’re bigger than a tank, doesn’t mean squat. You’ll always be my little Papoose.” Kimi knew her grandson was troubled by something. “Come on, spit it out. What’s on your mind?”

  “What can you tell me about In Cold Blood?” Jagan was worried. Maybe his mother was right and he shouldn’t be bothering her. He knew Kaya was keeping something from him, but he wasn’t sure what. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her.

  Lolli stopped squeezing the sprayer. With a single pivot she turned around and stared at her grandson. She hadn’t heard those words in years.

  “That was before you were born. It’s ancient history.” Kimi just knew that case would come up again for some reason, but she didn’t think it would be brought up by her grandson. She was hoping Jagan couldn’t tell that he had struck a nerve. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel bad. Ever since he was little she was very protective of him and for good reason.

  “I know it’s been a long time, but Luca has to write a paper on it. Thought we could give him an edge.” Jagan didn’t want to admit how curious he was about the case, but there was something rather intriguing about it. He was hoping she would be willing to open up about it. She had been so quiet lately.

  Luca…why couldn’t she remember who he was? She couldn’t ask or else it would raise suspicion that something was wrong. “I see. Well, there’s a lot the public didn’t know. Guess there’s no harm in telling you now.” Lolli sipped on her spiked tea. Jagan was almost in a trance listening to her talk about the case. There was something surreal about being the first person to hear some of the details.

  “It’s getting late Jagan. I need my rest.”

  “But I want to hear more.” Jagan knew he was being selfish, but she had just got to the part where they unearthed the bodies. How could she cut it off at that point?

  “Tell you what. My notes are up in the attic along with the old newspaper clippings. There is even a video of the exhumations. I left them up there for you.”

  “For me?” Jagan was baffled. He had never expressed any interest in detective work or forensics.

  “You’ll understand soon enough…all in due time, all in due time,” she repeated.

  Jagan’s eyebrows furrowed as he rested his elbow on the bench to support his chin. Why had she left papers about a murder for him? Maybe this was the reason everyone was acting so jumpy. There were so many more questions he wanted to ask her but he didn’t want to push too hard.

  The corners of Lolli’s mouth gently rose. Her beryl eyes beamed in the moonlight like gems. Her fine wrinkles faded into her porcelain skin. “Papoose.” Her voice sang softly like a mockingbird.

  “Yes, Lolli.”

  “Don’t forget to feed Westley and Buttercup.”

  “As you wish,” he replied in reference to one of their favorite movies.

  “And don’t mix up their feed,” she reminded him.

  “Coastal for Buttercup and alfalfa for Westley, right?”

  “That’s it…and remember…” Lolli tapped her fingers against the left side of her chest and said, “I’m always…”

  “In my heart,” Jagan replied mirroring the motion.

  Chapter 11

  Bly was exhausted. After a long shift at the shop, he grated the driveway which was more grueling than it looked. The way the tractor bounced him around made his knees and back ache more than usual. “You’re going to burn a hole in my heart pine if you’re not careful,” Bly said. He knew very well that all of her focus was on Jagan. Life had been hard on his daughter since she lost her husband. He wished there was more he could do.

  Kaya stopped her pacing and turned towards the greenhouse. All she wanted in life was to be a good mother. She never wanted money or fame. She had even accepted the fact that she’d probably spend the rest of her life as a widow, but now she feared she was failing at her one important job. If she couldn’t keep Jagan safe, then what was her reason to exist?

  “How long has he been out there?” Bly asked wiping the sweat from his brow with a worn bandanna. He wished his daughter had remarried. It wasn’t healthy for her to dwell so much on her son’s life and she needed a hobby that didn’t involve yelling out BINGO in a church hall.

  Kaya paused before speaking and tried to change the subject. “You sound tired.” She lit another Camel. Jagan wasn’t the only one she was worried about. Her father worked too hard for his age and he was looking frail. She couldn’t imagine managing things without him.

  “Don’t deflect. I know you too well.” Kaya was right though. The years of mechanics had taken its toll on his joints. He opened the BC paper and consumed the powder like a high-powered vacuum. His blood really was thinner than water.

  “Dammit dad. You know I’m worried. He’s been out there for hours.” She finally responded to his question. “I wish he’d go to school and find a nice young woman to marry and settle down. He spends way too much time out there for one and B on fitness.”

  “There’s no reason to fret. You got that from your mother I’m afraid.” This was a repeat performance for Bly. It was like listening to Kimi all over again. He couldn’t stand it then, just like he couldn’t stand it now. That was the problem with women–they were always trying to control everything around them. Life just didn’t work that way.

  “There are plenty of reasons. She had reason to worry too, remember?” Kaya tried not to bring it up, but sometimes she just couldn’t help it. She just didn’t understand how her father could distance himself from what happened. Sometimes she thought he was an android.

  “Okay, let’s not get carried away now. What’s really going on?” Bly knew that his daughter had the same instincts his wife did. Lately, she was acting more frantic than normal. Maybe she knew something she wasn’t telling him. The women were always trying to p
rotect him as if he were as fragile as a Fabergé egg.

  “I found some of those supplements in his room.” Kaya knew this was an ominous sign. She recalled more of what happened than her father because he was distracted from his work back then. She actually thought he blocked most of it out. Maybe it was better that way.

  “So he likes to body-build. There’s nothing wrong with that. Besides, you know we were never able to prove what happened before.” Bly was a simple kind of man. He didn’t want to spend his time philosophizing and analyzing everything little thing that happened. He believed things always had a way of working themselves out.

  “It’s not just that, dad,” Kaya said holding her cigarette close to her lips. “He’s just too kind of a person. He doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke…hell, I don’t even know if he’s ever been laid. It’s like he’s Sandra Dee.”

  “Who the hell is that?” Bly scratched his head. He swore his daughter just made up names sometimes to confuse him. He’d overheard her and Bethany making fun of him on more than one occasion for that very thing.

  “Didn’t you ever see Grease dad? You know…the musical.” Too bad her mother wasn’t present for the conversation. She wouldn’t have to explain who freakin’ Sandra Dee was for one and C why her concerns were valid. Sometimes talking to her dad was like talking to a damn brick wall.

  “Nope. You lost me on that one.”

  That wasn’t the only time. Mother nicknamed him Beaky Buzzard and for good reason. She even set the vulture’s cartoonish voice on dad’s ringtone, so when he called her the duh’s and do-di-do’s rang out for all to hear. Sure, he was a genius when it came to mechanics and such, but with deeper matters he could be downright slow. Sometimes having a conversation with him was like spinning around in a revolving door for hours on end. “Never mind,” Kaya said followed by a sigh.