The Dark Trail

by Will Mosley

  Chapter 19.

  “No one shoot's like that, Tanner.” Ken voiced the statement nearly half a dozen times after they had left the gun range. Though, Ken had qualified after setting up two clean targets – the first of which looked like Swiss chess, the second he saved to take back to work – never had Tanner acknowledged the comment until they turned on the road to their parent's house.

  “I get it, Ken. Okay?” Tanner annoying replied.

  “I'm just saying. I guess the next question is, where'd you learn that? At the clinic, I presume?” Ken asked, sarcastically.

  Tanner, arms crossed, staring from the passenger's side window, didn't change his posture, but lowered his eyes, cut them to the windshield, then lowered his head.”

  “Clinic? No the rehab clinic doesn't teach that.”

  “Really? Thank you for the clarification. Then where?”

  “I don't know, alright. I'll think on it. Just can't remember right now.”

  “It's not natural. That's why I ask.”

  A minute after turning onto Grand Harbor Lane, the two men in the patrol car were parked in front of the house they grew up in: 820 Grand Harbor Lane. In the pristine lot of grass, was an oversized green turtle with a cartoonishly broad smile and big teeth whose back had been removed, and whose innards had been replaced with a concave, plastic mold and filled with water – children's toys in the water moved at the whim of the breeze. Beside it, a fit woman of nearly 60 years squatted and was hammering a pastel sign of an Easter basket into the ground that read, 'Welcome Spring!'

  Neither man initially exited the car. Ken watched Tanner's chest rise and fall with his heavy breathing.

  “You alright, Buffalo Bill?”

  Tanner took one final deep breath and upon exhalation said, “It's just been a long time. That's all. Dad's gonna flip, I just know it.” Tanner recognized his mother who hadn't yet realized a car was in the driveway.

  Ken laughed. “No. Mom's gonna flip. Dad's gonna kick you in your nuts! Unless you have a degree hidden somewhere.”

  “No degree.”

  Ken shrugged. “They're your nuts, pal. Stay in the car until I get mom to come over – if I can get her to come over.”

  Ken exited the car and yelled across the yard. “Ah, mom!” She didn't turn around. “I said, ah, Mom!”

  Judith Garay's head spun around as if she were being exorcised – sans projectile vomit – and shot Ken with an evil glare. At one point, still in her squatting position looking back at her eldest son, she seemed to be hissing. She stuck one finger up, held it for a second and turned back toward her sign so rapidly that it appeared instant. After she hammered the sign down, she pushed herself up – her hips and head cocked in opposite directions – and faced the house directly across the street.

  Until then Ken hadn't noticed a small group of potbellied men, all 60 years-old or better with Lee Garay heading the group, standing with their hands in their pockets facing Judith.

  One of the men yelled back across the street, “This time it's leaning too much to the right! I dunno, Lee. Maybe it's just me.”

  “Yeah,” Another man pointed, then wavered his hand slightly. “Too much right. The eggs are gonna look like they're falling out of the basket. You don't want the grand kid thinking you don't care about their eggs, you know.” The pack of men nodded in agreement.

  Lee Garay, standing in front of the group, said “Ya know, Mike, you got good eyes. You're right.” Then yelled back to Judith. “A little to the left, Jude!”

  Judith huffed loudly. “How much this time?”

  “A quarter? I dunno.” one man said.

  “... Inch and a quarter, maybe?” said another.

  “... A quarter from here is like nothing!”

  “Half. Definitely half. Gotta go with half, Lee.”

  With one arm across his chest resting on his belly bulge and the other pivoting from it, his hand holding his chin in thought as if deciding the fate of Christians in the Coliseum, Lee took all measurements into consideration.

  “What the hell?” Ken yelled and marched across the yard to his mother. Tanner got out and stood beside the car. “You're a bunch geriatric lunatics! Why don't one of you come over and help this poor woman?”

  “...That's your boy, Lee?”

  “... Kids nowadays... disrespectful.”

  “And then I couldn't sit down for a week!”

  “... oughta go pop him one...”

  Ken gave Judith a hug. “Mom! What are you doing? Look at you! You're filthy!”

  “Hey, Honey. John Duncan came over this morning and said that this sign we put out for Lainy was off kilter. We've been at this all day. Dad is obsessed with this damned thing.”

  “No respect at all!” Came from a voice across the street.

  “Tell me about it.” Lee said.

  “Hey!” Ken pointed to the group of men. “I can take on all of you at once if I have to!”

  “Go back home, Ken!” Lee yelled. “This is a Grand Harbor Lane issue!” He emphasized 'Grand' as if any other regular 'Harbor Lane', like the road on which Ken lived, was unfit for residency. Then, he turned to group and spoke with disdain, “This isn't Harbor Lane.” There was an uproar of laughter from the group.

  “You see this!” Judith said. “They're mocking me! I'm going inside to watch Ellen.” Judith pulled her gloves off and tossed them on the ground. When she marched to the house, half the group sent cat calls.

  She hadn't asked him about Tanner, and now she was going inside without a second look at his patrol car. Mary didn't crack! He appreciatively thought. “Mom, wait!”

  “What, Ken?” She turned back with door held open. “Bugs are getting in.”

  From across the street:

  “Wait! What's happening?”

  “... Where's she goin'?”

  “... She's got the good knees! It'll never get done now!”

  Ken took her shoulder and turned it toward the patrol car. “Don't you wanna meet my friend?”

  Judith squinted at the patrol car, then grimaced as if someone had stepped in something. “What's wrong with him?”

  “What? Nothing, mom! What do you mean what's wrong with him? He's just a buddy of mine.”

  “Why'd you bring him here? What's he done?” She frowned at the man.

  Ken often forgot that his employment now entailed that he enforce the law, not break it, and the patrol car became as natural for him to look at as his own vehicle. Standing outside of the vehicle now, Tanner looked more like a vagabond than any child of Judith.

  “I told him to change.” Ken whispered.

  Judith politely waved and softly said, “Hi,” as her blurred eyes tried to judge his intent. “I met him. What now?”

  “You didn't meet him. You waved from afar.” Ken pulled her from the door by her arm. “Go introduce yourself to him.”

  “Geez, Mr. Roughhouse! What do you want me to do, bake him a cake?”

  “Mom!”

  “Alright, alright! You know, Ken, this southern hospitality thing is going to your head. We should've stayed and raised you in Ithica.”

  Ken watched his mother expertly navigating the stone path as if trained by someone who did not want unwelcomed feet on his grass.

  “On the stones, Jude!” Lee yelled from across the street.

  “Hi! How are you?” She said to the stranger, five seconds away.

  “Hi!” Tanner said. Ken could see his brother's eyes glistening and two sparkling trails of liquid rolling into his beard.

  “Who is that your mother is going to, Kenneth? Is he safe?” Lee yelled. Ken waved his father off.

  “I don't know why Ken does this,” Judith said to the stranger, four seconds away.

  “I don't know either. He told me to stay in the car.” Tanner said.

  Judith stopped in her tracks, cocked her head, then continued on. “Oh! Why you have a very familiar sounding voice. Do I know you from somewhere?”

  “Probably.”

&n
bsp; “Oh?” Three seconds away. “How did you and Ken meet?”

  “Well, he beat me up a lot soon after birth and for the next 18 years. I simply couldn't get rid of him.”

  Judith laughed, not paying much attention to the comment. “That's Ken. He's pushy and aggressive. He was in one of those rock and roll bands. Nothing like Elvis, though.” Two Seconds away. “It was that loud, obnoxious stuff. Don't mind him, I can still beat him up when I need to.” Judith reached out her hand. “I'm Judith Garay. And you are?” At this distance, her vision cleared up just enough to make out his eyes and his smile – her eyes and her smile. Though the beard was totally foreign, she froze from recognition. Her mind sifted through thousands of facial images instantly. Once finished, the sorting began again, and again, until only a handful of images remained.

  He took her hand and shook. “Hi, Judith. I'm Tanner Garay.”

  The sorting stopped. She looked closer at the man, squinting her eyes, cocking her head until she reached one image of her holding a newborn child in her arms. Her legs weakened, then became unstable and she toppled towards him, into his arms. Tears rushed as if they were just underneath her eyelids waiting to explode and Tanner held her close to his chest as they both cried.

  “Hi, mom.” He said.

  “Ken!” Lee screamed hysterically. “What's he doing to her?” Lee doubled, then triple checked for oncoming cars, then rushed across the street as fast was possible.

  Judith cupped her mouth and sobbed, tears rolled down the backs of her hands, yet she could not take her eyes from her child. “It's you!” She said through muffled sobs. “My God, it's you!”

  “Take your hands off her, you heathen!” Lee yelled. When he reached Tanner and Judith, he snatched Judith away and held her with one arm, then pushed Tanner with the other. “What the hell do you think –.”

  Judith pointed to his face. “Look, Lee!” Tears and joy kept her sentences from forming. Lee pulled her hand down.

  “What did you do to her? Huh?” He pushed Tanner a second time.

  “Hi to you too, dad!” Tanner continued smiling, eyes brilliant with late afternoon sun sparkle.

  “What tha? Are you some sick –,” Suddenly, Lee recoiled. “Holy shit.” He took his arm from Judith, letting her fall to the ground, and embraced Tanner.

  “Nice one, dad. A real Romeo.” Ken said from the porch.

  “It's him.” Judith weakly cried into the grass, her tears dropping like rain. “My Tanner!”

  Lee's snatched his youngest son into his arms and gave him an embrace that seemed to last for months, as if in that one hug, he could transport into Tanner the years of searching, calling the police, all the love they put into finding him. He pulled back from Tanner, cleared his throat and quickly wiped his eyes. He looked stern faced at first, and said, “So, how – have you –,” but then the facade melted away as his mouth trembled, his eyes softened into hazel orbs of moisture, and he rushed at his son with a more intense hug.

  From across the street:

  “Awww. Isn't that sweet? Pansy ass.”

  “... look at him blubbering...”

  “So Lee likes hugging strange men, does he?”

  “... I still say it's a quarter inch off.”

  “... never seen him run. Don't think I want to again.”

  Lee's clutch, so tender and suffocating, a loving hug that was no less a wrestling move meant to restrain, finally receded, but taking his hands completely off of his son, he found difficult. With one hand on his boy's shoulder – patting him every few seconds as if Tanner were imaginary and had never really existed, he ran his eyes up and down his full height. “You look – you look rough, son.”

  Tanner nodded. “I know.”

  In true Garay style, Lee's eyes hardened, his grip on Tanner's shoulder would have normally crushed bone. Then he said, “Eighteen years, huh?.” Still patting and rubbing his shoulder. “It's been awhile. So, where's your degree?”

  “Told ya!” Ken laughed.

  Judith Garay had planned no prodigious meal for Tanner because there was simply no way she could have known of his arrival. Ken bore the brunt of her anger and was chastened harshly for the lack of forewarning. But as wife of a plump, well fed husband, and mother of two boys who took genes from her father and were taller than Lee, she had no choice but to make provisions. And she was glad for it. Not since the early nineties had all three of her men been together in one place.

  The salad, warm from sitting on the counter all afternoon, and whole wheat pasta spaghetti, she had planned for her and Lee's dinner, which Lee was dreading, was quickly put away. Instead, she had Ken run to the store and pick up hamburgers and hotdogs while they caught up with Tanner. Before Ken reluctantly left, he pulled Judith and Lee aside and warned them that Tanner was suffering from some mental issues that would need to be checked out once he got Tanner to the doctor.

  After Ken got in his patrol car and drove away, Judith sat Tanner on the couch, sat beside him – Lee on his right – and they bombarded him with questions. Though these people were his parents, and they seemed familiar, there was still a disconnect that they would not understand. But Tanner answered the best he could, with what he knew, truthfully. Though the drug problem initially chided Lee, he got over it quickly and continued with the questioning. But there was something Lee had missed, when he discovered it, he confronted it immediately, interrupting Judith's questions.

  “Whose jacket?” Lee asked.

  “Huh?” Tanner looked down at the camouflage jacket, then took the name badge up in his hand. “Who do you think?” Tanner smiled.

  “I dunno. Why the hell do you think I'm asking?”

  Tanner took the jacket off, folded it in his lap with the name faced up. “It's yours, dad. I want to thank you for letting me use it for all these years. It does need to be –,”

  “That's not my jacket, son.” Lee said.

  “It looks like yours, Lee. Look! It has your name on it.” Judith said.

  “Okay, you two freaks. I know how many jackets I brought home from Nam. Three. In my closet, I've got three jackets and they haven't been touched in years.”

  “Honey, you might need to check again.”

  “I know how many – you know what? Fine!” Lee stood and grabbed Tanner's arm. “You come with me.” He said. Judith stayed behind as they went into a back bedroom.

  Once they arrived in Lee and Judith's bedroom, Lee closed and locked the door.

  “I know how many damned jackets I have.” He opened the closet door and his upper body disappeared into the hanging clothes as he mumbled expletives. Thirty seconds after going in, Lee returned with several jackets covered in plastic on hangers. “We'll see who's right and who's wrong here.” He tossed the jackets on the bed and spread them out. There were only two jackets there.

  “See Dad! This one is yours, like I said.” Tanner remarked. Lee stood with his hand on his hip and the other scratching his head. “It's not that big of a deal. I must've taken it sometime before –,”

  “No!” Lee said in the hold of some new revelation. He went back into the closet, this time bent over reaching toward the floor. In a second he was standing upright, turned around and tossed a balled up camouflage jacket onto the bed. “That's three. Read the name plate.” Tanner unfolded the jacket, and to his surprise this one, too, read 'Garay'. He double checked the first two jackets, then came back to the wrinkled, unprotected one.

  “I – I thought this was yours.” Tanner said.

  “No, son. It's not mine. It's yours.”

  Tanner, unbelieving, seeming to be trapped in a lie that wasn't a lie while the door was guarded by a ferocious lion. “This can't be –.”

  “It is. Were you telling us lies, Tanner? Were you trying to hide your service to our country? That's nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “No! Absolutely not! I told you everything.”

  “You told us many things, not everything. When did you enlist?” Lee smiled wanting to embrace his
son again.

  “Dad, I've never been in the military! That's a fact! I think I would've remembered that, and it would have been the first thing I told you.”

  Lee wanted to believe that at least one of his sons had served in the armed forces, but Tanner's avid denial told him that this wasn't the case. “Well,” He said with a sigh. “you also say you couldn't remember a lot of what happened to you.”

  “Yes, I did. But no military service. Sorry to disappoint you, Dad.”

  “No, Tanner. You're taking me the wrong way. You're not a disappointment, son. I was just – just getting my hopes up and –,” Lee noticed a faded stain on Tanner's shirt. “What's that? A tattoo of some kind?”

  Without his jacket on, an obscured image was visible through Tanner's t-shirt.

  “Oh!” He crossed his arms quickly. “It's nothing. I got it... some time ago.”

  Lee rolled up his sleeve to reveal a yellow and black Cavalry shield on his right shoulder. “7th Cavalry, my boy.” He immediately rolled his sleeve down.

  “I never knew you had a tattoo.”

  “Never told you. I've got plenty, but I keep them covered. It's not proper for an old man to flaunt his tattoos like these kids do. Now, I showed you mine, show me yours.”

  Tanner didn't know why he didn't want anyone seeing his tattoos, deeming it to be a dark vestige of his past that one was not supposed to see or even know about. But hell, recent circumstances had changed things. This wasn't the streets, this was his own father. Tanner untucked his shirt, grabbed it at his waist and pulled it up.

  “Man, you're skinny.” Lee said immediately, then he gasped.

  On Tanner's ribs was a naked woman, bent over showing her goodies to the world and beside one of her splayed legs, her head jutted out as if seeking approval. An ink blurred clover was on the opposite side, which Lee didn't understand since, as far as he knew, they were not Irish. But the image that spread the width of Tanner's chest is what took Lee's breath. In dark ink, a Centaur stood; the lower half horse with the torso of a man or soldier attached, and the soldier was facing forward aiming an assault rifle at some oncoming attacker. Across an uninked rectangular section of the horse’s body, words were written: GARAY TM.