“Look. I’m trying to be your friend here. It’s like you’re coming up with things to fixate on. Would you prefer it if he was a bad seed? He’s a good kid.”
“No. I just think that somehow…I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem natural. It’s like he’s not human.” Kaya actually wished her son acted out a little. At least she sowed her oats before she settled down.
“You’re really reaching this time. Next you’re going to say an alien took over his body.” Bly tried to lighten the mood but he could tell it wasn’t working. “You need to just appreciate how much he does around here and stop reading too much into things.” Bly took hold of Kaya’s shoulder and turned her towards him. “And if the supplements really worry you that much…I’ll have a talk with him.”
“Thanks dad.” She knew Jagan would listen to Bly. It wasn’t his fault he grew up without a father. Maybe he just related better to a male figure.
“Everything will work out fine, you’ll see.”
“I hope you’re right.” Kaya’s eyes became weepy.
“There, there. Is there something more that you’re not telling me?”
Wub, wub, wop. The dub-step music announced Jagan’s arrival. Kaya quickly wiped her eyes and turned around. The last thing she wanted was for her son to see her like this.
“Hey Pop,” Jagan said not noticing his mother’s sad state.
“There’s my boy,” Bly said patting him on the back.
The golden skin on Jagan’s cheeks reddened. “Say old man, can you help me with my motor? I think one of the pistons is shot.”
“Pull it into the barn. We can work on it tonight.”
“Sweet,” Jagan said and strutted into the house.
Not able to hold it back any longer, the tears streamed down Kaya’s cheeks. Bly inverted his kerchief and wiped them away. “Everything’s going to turn out fine, you’ll see.”
Kaya took a long drag and inhaled deeply. Staring at her father she remarked, “Yeah, I hope you’re right.”
“Of course I am,” he said confidently.
Kaya wasn’t so sure. She covered her mouth with her hand and wrapped her arm around her waist and whispered, “What if he finds out?”
Chapter 12
Jagan synced his phone with the barn speakers and played one of his grandfather’s favorite bands–Creedence Clearwater Revival. Bly swiveled the ratchet, loosening the socket from the upper end of the motor as he sang out loud, “Have you ever seen the rain?” Jagan joined in, knowing most of the old man’s tunes. The unexpected shower hit the tin roof hard, muffling Fogerty’s abrasive voice.
“Hand me the quarter-inch socket, son.” Jagan sifted through the top shelf of the tool box. He was proud how quickly his grandson had picked things up. It must be those Love genes, he thought. Oil coursed through their veins.
“How old were you when you met Lolli?” Jagan handed him the tool and peered into his eyes.
“About your age. Why do you ask?”
“I was just curious.” Jagan knew his grandparents had the type of romance that movies were made of. He was hoping that somehow it would rub off on him. “How did you meet?”
“Ah…at a pool hall in Florida.” Bly stumbled on his words. He wasn’t expecting the question. “She was waitressing there when she was finishing up school. It was love at first sight, well, for me anyway.” He laughed.
“You mean she didn’t feel the same?” Jagan pried.
“Well, when I got up the nerve to tell her how I felt, the reply was not what I expected.”
“What did she say?” Jagan couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.
Bly took a sip of his beer as if he needed some liquid courage to continue. “She simply said, thank you.”
Jagan roared in laughter. “Damn. Lolli was pretty cold back then.” Bly nodded his head and chuckled so hard the crackles in his lungs flared. It took them both a few moments to catch their breath. “How did you know she was the one?”
“That’s simple. I was playing pool with a buddy of mine and I saw her in the distance clearing off a table. Now, you’re not going to believe this, but I’m not making this up.”
“Go on,” Jagan said eager to hear the rest.
“She had a halo above her head.”
“A halo?”
“Yes. I saw that aura of light above her as plain as I see you in front of me now. I turned to my friend and told him I was going to marry her and sure enough, I did.” The corners of Bly’s mouth rose as he spoke.
Jagan was surprised he had never heard that story before. He knew his grandfather was telling the truth. He was a man of few words and never one to tell tales. He hoped he would be so lucky to have a sign like that when he met the right one.
“Well, there’s your problem.” Bly said pointing to the block. “You’ve got a cracked piston. Damn.” Bly was hoping Jagan wouldn’t get too discouraged. He was going to be without his wheels for a while.
“Sounds expensive,” Jagan said biting one of his fingernails.
“No worries. I’ve got a spare big block out in the back.” Bly stepped down from the engine compartment.
“I thought you were saving that for your dream car?”
Bly shuffled over to his workbench and dipped his hands in the orange goop, “I’ve got plenty of motors. Besides, it’ll be an easy swap.”
“Maybe you should give up on the Camaro. Mom says they’re trying to outlaw gas motors.” His mother kept up on current events through Facebook and made announcements daily like a news reporter.
“To hell with that. They try to touch my guns or my engines; they’ll be staring down the barrel of my shotgun.” Jagan cracked up. He could picture his Pop in a standoff with the feds.
“Nice to hear you laugh. Things have been pretty tense around here lately.”
“Kaya’s been all up in my business. I wish she’d just stay out of it.”
“Your mother’s traumatized from what happened all those years ago. Try to cut her some slack.”
“I’ll try Pop.”
Baaa-na, baaa-na. A harsh computerized noise echoed throughout the barn. This is a test of the emergency broadcast system. This is only a test. The man’s flat voice echoed through the speakers followed by a loud, prolonged beep.
Jagan and Bly stared at each other without moving a muscle.
“I haven’t heard that since…”
“What the hell was that?” Jagan cut him off and tilted his head.
“Well, since you were a baby,” he said finishing his sentence. I’m sure it’s nothing.” The hair on Bly’s arms stood up straight. He wasn’t one to get the willies, but there was something about that sound.
“I’d better get back inside. It’s almost dinnertime. Thanks for the help.” What Jagan really needed was time alone to think. There was something odd about that radio announcement and he wondered if it had anything to do with his dream.
“You got it. I’ll finish up here.” Bly opened the freezer and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. As Jagan walked back towards the house, he heard Otis Redding’s voice sing out, Cigarettes and Coffee. He wondered about his grandfather’s demons.
Chapter 13
Agent U, A.K.A, “Indigo”
Indigo slowly opened his eyes. His vision was blurred, but he could make out the big objects in the room. A bear rug adorned the wall in front of him and a hand-stitched quilt covered the bed. The smell of bacon stirred his empty stomach. His bowel sounds reverberated against the cedar logs like a newborn kitten’s unanswered cries for milk.
“Hungry?” Scarlet sat in a rocking chair next to the bed. She got up and placed a breakfast tray over his lap. She was starting to feel a little guilty over what she had done. She reminded herself that it was for his own good.
Indigo reached for the fork, but his right hand was secured to the bed post. “So this is what you’re into?” Indigo asked holding up his hand held by the cuff. “You know, all you had to do was ask.”
“Just a precautio
n,” she said tucking the napkin into his shirt. “I made you a French omelet.” Eggs were one of her specialties.
“You know I can get out of that, right?” He had a fixed expression on his face. He was never going to hear the end of this from the other guys on his squad. The jokes would multiply and morph for months. One of them would probably post a fake newspaper article–Muscular Marine overtaken by Bambi or Trained soldier held hostage by Minnie Mouse.
“The thought crossed my mind,” She admitted. “There’s also some fresh made jam on your toast,” she said, changing the subject. To think just last week she was canning jelly and now she was a hardcore felon.
Indigo picked up the utensil with his left hand. “Good thing I’m ambidextrous.” He pushed the toast off the plate.
Scarlet ambled over to the window and drew the curtains. “What’s the matter, you got something against bread? I went to a lot of trouble to make that spread.” It was strange that she wanted him to like her cooking at a time like this.
“That’s a little bright, don’t you think?” Indigo held up his free hand to shield his eyes. “And no, not much of a fan.” He had a horrible katzenjammer. His head throbbed more than the time he killed a bottle of tequila with two strippers in Shanghai. The worms did him in.
“Sorry. Guess you’re still groggy from that sedative I slipped you.”
“You know, if you wanted me that bad, you could have just begged.” Indigo licked the bacon grease off his fingers. His mind immediately drifted to sex.
“I’m not the pleading type. Besides, you’re old enough to be my dad. Ew.” Scarlet’s shoulders shook as she giggled. “I’m not into screwing old dudes.”
“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think. Maybe I have been around the block, but I’m not old enough to be your damn father. An older brother, maybe.”
“Looks like I struck a nerve.”
“Well, the shackles aren’t helping.” Indigo moved his feet and the chains rattled against one another.
“Sorry, I couldn’t risk your escape.”
“The omelet’s delicious. Are you a chef or something?” Indigo was prying for information. He was trying to act casual, but knew he had to find a way out. She must have been some kind of a nutcase or something. He started to wonder if she had a shrine of him in another room. He’d dealt with more than his share of stalkers.
“No. I’m just a foodie. My dream is to save up enough money to go overseas and splurge on a bowl of Alba truffle pasta and wash it down with an authentic bottle of 1907 Heidsieck champagne.”
“Sounds expensive and food nerd is more like it. How did you get me in here anyway? You can’t weigh more than a buck ten.”
“I had some help.” The truth is it took her over an hour to get him inside the cabin. That would have been a great video, one that would have gone viral for sure. She wished she would have thought of it sooner.
“From who?” Great. She had help so there’d be more than one person to contend with. Indigo was picturing Scarlet’s lunatic cousin who dressed up like women and kept corpses in his cellar or something. Maybe there were even more of them hiding in the woodworks, like the Manson family or something.
“Jeckyl and Hyde.” Scarlet placed her index finger and thumb into her mouth and whistled. Two Tibetan mastiffs fought their way through the doorway.
“Maybe you should just call them Hyde and Hyde.” Indigo laughed and choked on his orange juice, relieved her only accomplices were of the canine variety. Still they could pose a problem. He’d never seen dogs that size. They looked more like those oversized wolves found in Marvel comic books.
“They are quite the duo.” Scarlet said proudly. She reached into her pocket and held out treats for the ginormous pups. She bent over and offered her face like it was bone marrow. They responded with sloppy kisses. In a demonstration of power, she calmly ordered them out of the room.
“I see you have them well trained. How do you know about Jeckyl and Hyde anyway? Aren’t you a little young for nineteenth century literature?”
“My grandmother was a crime writer. I’ve read all the books in her library.”
“I see. So what gives? Are you going to tell me why you’ve brought me here?” Indigo almost didn’t want to know. He was hoping maybe one of his buddies dared her to do it. Maybe this was just all a practical joke.
“I’m just following orders.”
“Who do you work for? Did Agent T put you up to this?”
“No, it’s nothing like that.”
“All right, then who?” This must have been an elaborate hoax, it just had to be.
“I can’t tell you.”
“Come on, Scarlet. Throw me a bone. At least tell me why you’ve brought me here?” Indigo was frustrated. If this was a joke, then where was the punch-line?
“Your life is in danger.”
Chapter 14
Hints of tangerine and coral cascaded through the Georgia pines. Bocephus ran with eager anticipation of greeting Buttercup and Westley with his teasing bawl mouth. He snuck under the barbed-wire fence and entered their paddock. Jumping up and down, he weaved between the mare and the gelding, brushing against their fetlocks.
You’re going to get bit. Ignoring the contemplation, Jagan placed the reams of hay in front of them and inhaled deeply to take in the earthy aroma. Bocephus ambled over to inspect the straw. Jagan gazed at Westley’s blue eye, which stood out against his brown one like a prettier twin. There was something mystical about the old gelding.
“Watch out for those hooves boy,” Jagan yelled out as he headed for the stalls. Measuring out the beet pulp, he stirred in some water before adding it to the oats. The aroma reminded him of his favorite breakfast joint in town. He poured the feed into their buckets and filled their water bins.
Ow-ooo, ow-ooo. Jagan darted back to the pasture as soon as he heard the howling. Bocephus’ nose was to the ground as he tracked towards the trough. Out of breath, Jagan reached the waterer just in time.
“Easy boy. Get back.”
The elliptical pupils stood out on the creature’s triangular head. The serpent’s eel-like form slithered in the brackish water. Jagan recalled the vision he had seen in the smoke from Nia’s pipe like a flash on a camera. Bocephus stretched back his hind legs into a pointer stance as his nostrils flared and retracted more rapidly.
“Down boy. You’re gonna get us both killed.” Jagan moved his thigh in front of the coondog, nudging him away from danger. The water moccasin’s head rose, exposing his impressive jowls.
Hisssss. He left something for you. Jace shook his head. The shock of seeing the poisonous creature must have messed with his hearing. He lunged back, knocking Bocephus to the ground. That was a close call.
A loud choom resonated through the air. The unexpected blast struck Jagan’s eardrums and chest all at once. Chunks of snake carcass hurled through the air. Some of the guts and fluids landed on his face and clothes. He inspected the container and noticed the serpent’s body was still writhing. Near the reptile’s corpse was a card floating on top. Reaching in, he picked the damp card out. It was the recruiter’s. He had no idea how it got in there.
“That was a close call. Lucky I had her on me,” Bly said stroking the barrel. “The rains bring the cottonmouths out like the plague,” He explained as he pumped another round into his twenty-gauge. “Best not to go in the fields without your muckers on ‘til the land dries up.” He transferred the shotgun upright into the high-ready position once he confirmed it was a kill-shot.
Jagan ran his hands over Bocephus’ fur to make sure he hadn’t been bit or hit by any of the birdshot. The horses. A sickly premonition swept through him. “Pop, we need to check on Westley and Buttercup.”
Jagan sprinted back to where they were feeding. Buttercup’s muzzle was down in the hay. He checked the quarter horse’s black coat and found no signs of a bite. Westley had wandered off deep into the pasture. From a distance, he could tell the prized gelding was injured. The paint w
as moving his forehead against his cannon back and forth in a frantic motion.
“You stay with him son and keep him calm. I’ll call the vet,” Bly instructed.
Jagan grabbed a halter and led Westley into his stall. He washed the wound and tied a tourniquet above it. What was Lolli going to say? He couldn’t face her. Death loomed above.
Chapter 15
Westley’s breathing had become labored. Lolli’s beloved horse was going to die and it was all his fault, he was sure of it. Jagan was riddled with shame. The opening of the stall door interrupted the guilt trip he put himself on.
“Dr. Funk, the venom is spreading.” Jagan whined. He couldn’t help but wonder about the snake. He recalled what Nia had told him. Maybe the snake wasn’t after him or Bocephus, maybe he was trying to warn him. He felt like an ass for even thinking it, but still he couldn’t understand how the recruiter’s card got into the watering trough. Jagan was sure he had left it in his pants pocket of the pair he left in the hamper.
The vet took out a needle and jabbed it into an overturned bottle.
“What’s that?” Jagan asked. The very sight of it intensified his anxiety.
“Phenylbutazone. It’ll help with the swelling,” The vet replied as he tapped the syringe. Bly, I’m going to need you and Jagan to hold his leg while I inject him.”
“Is he going to make it, doc?” Jagan’s voice began to shake. Westley was special to him. He had been riding him since he was old enough to walk.
“His age doesn’t help, but I’m going to give him some antivenin which should take effect soon. Keep him steady while I load another syringe.”
Clyde’s sapphire blue eye stared at Jagan solidifying the young man’s impotence.
“I’ve given him a tetanus booster and a sedative to keep him placid. Course his allergies worry me a bit. Keep an eye on him for any reactions to the meds. I’ll swing by in the evening to check on him.”
The Predecessor Page 6