IA_B.O.S.S.

by John Darryl Winston

“Why don’t you join us?” taunted Naz.

  Red sprung from the bushes, his knife still in hand, and stumbled toward Naz—he’s definitely on something. He’s not gonna feel any pain regardless of what I do, and he’s not letting go of that knife. Fine! Naz met Red on the grass, keeping the figure in the shadows in his sights just in case. When Red lunged, Naz angled to the left grabbed Red’s knife-hand with both of his hands and swept him off the ground, high into the air. When Red reached back with his other hand to break his fall, Naz grabbed it. When he landed, Naz drove the knife through Red’s free hand and into the grass with the full force and weight of his fall. Red groaned in pain—he felt that … three down.

  “One to go,” Naz said as he started toward the figure in the shadows.

  “Looks like somebody’s had a few karate lessons since we last met,” said the figure with a gruff voice and a heavy Spanish accent. “How’s the Spanish comin’ … ¿Habla espanol?” The boy laughed.

  The figure would meet Naz halfway. Naz knew the voice, and when the boy stepped into the light, Naz recognized him immediately. It was the leader of the three gang members he had trapped in the vacant office building, the deliverer of the scar he now possessed on his neck, a boy he only referred to until now as Gruff. It was Roffio. But he didn’t wield a knife, he was brandishing a silver gun with a black grip.

  “I didn’t think you had it in ya, but like I told you before, we’re the same, you and me. Where’s ya little sister … hiding in the darkness? I can feel her there.” Roffio closed his eyes.

  Now’s my chance.

  “He’s scared,” Naz heard the voice say, and he hesitated.

  Naz calmed himself and moved toward Roffio, but Roffio immediately opened his eyes and pointed the gun at Naz, who froze.

  Roffio looked into the darkness where Meri hid, then back at Naz. “You’re afraid.” Roffio laughed again.

  “I’m not afraid.”

  “But I wonder why she isn’t.”

  “You’re about to find out why.”

  Roffio smirked. “Is that right? Clever trick, trapping us in that building, but I did give you that scar … almost makes you look tough … almost.” He pointed to the scar on Naz’s neck with his gun. “Wha’d ya say, we call it even. No doubt about it, we’re the same … like brothers. It's not too late ya know … to join us … unete a nosotros.”

  Naz was starting to understand what Roffio meant by them being the same—how can he know that Meri is there in the dark … and not afraid. “Like I told you before, we’re not the same … and I’ll never join you.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  Naz looked at the gun pointed directly at him, but it wasn’t the gun that bothered him. It was the distance between him and Roffio. If he could close it, he could disarm Roffio with ease. He also knew when he looked into Roffio’s eyes that if he made one move, Roffio would pull the trigger. He had one option. He thought back to the day Meri’s father, Bearn, had died and closed his eyes. Before he could imagine, a shot rang out accompanied by Meri’s scream.

  PART THREE

  DISSOLUTION

  In The Past …

  “Good, Son!” says Cory as he looks over to find Naz still sitting with his eyes closed. “Son,” Cory repeats, knowing his son has changed.

  Naz opens his eyes and looks forward, then to Cory. “Where … where am I? What’s happening?”

  Cory looks at Naz and takes a deep breath of courage, knowing he is about to do the most difficult thing he has ever done. Before Naz can ask the obvious, Cory cuts him off, coldly reciting what he has memorized days before. “You don’t know me.” He reaches under his seat, pulls out a 38 revolver, and points it at Naz.

  “What are doing?” asks Naz, wide-eyed.

  “You were kidnapped and the ransom pick-up went bad, so you have to get out … now.”

  Naz’s deranged eyes flit back and forth between the road outside of the car, Cory, and the point of the gun. “Are you crazy?” Naz yells. “I’m not jumping out of a moving car.”

  Cory looks up to see, in the rearview mirror, the sedans have returned. They are a distance away, but clearly gaining on them again. “I’m not going to tell you again,” Cory yells as he pulls the hammer back on the 38.

  Terrified, Naz looks out of the car window and back at Cory. Cory looks at the speedometer then slows down as the sedans continue to gain.

  “Trust me, you’ll make it; you’ve done it many times before,” says Cory as he looks in his son’s eyes.

  Naz opens the car door and looks down at the road as it speeds by underneath the car. “I can do this?” He looks back at Cory, who points the gun at him even more intently than before. “I can do this.”

  Without thinking Naz rises to his feet, hangs onto the inside door handle with one hand and the car seat with the other. He shifts his weight to the right, positioning himself just over the road. He looks back at Cory one last time, then jumps out of the car and onto his feet, rolling forward until the force of friction stops him, and he rises to one knee on the cracked pavement, dirty, battered, and bruised. The two sedans pull up beside him.

  Cory looks in his rearview mirror and smiles. “Goodbye, Son.”

  Hot sun overhead, Naz watches in horror as the next few seconds unfold. Cory makes a sharp turn off of a small cliff resulting in an explosion, followed by a billowing cloud of black smoke and flames. Before Naz faints and crumbles to the ground, the word “Daddy” escapes his lips.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  THE CALVARY

  Present Day …

  Meri’s scream segued into the sound of the screeching tires of a car followed by a booming voice.

  “Put it down, Mr. Styles,” commanded Fears, who had just pulled up in a car while firing a warning shot from a sawed-off shotgun.

  “Coach,” said a startled Roffio. “it’s been a long time. I see you’re still playin’ long lost father to the fatherless.”

  “I see you’re still playing bully to the bullied,” retorted Fears as he looked at the three boys still whimpering on the ground in agony. All the while he kept his shotgun trained on Roffio. “How’s that working out for you? And I’m not gonna tell you again to put that gun down, son.”

  Roffio studied Fears. “No … I don’t think I will. I don’t believe you have the heart to kill me, old man.”

  “Oh, I’m not gonna kill you. But I promise you’ll be working these streets for the rest of your life in a wheelchair if you don’t put it down … now.”

  Naz looked at Fears intently for a moment then said, “You better do what he says; he’s not kiddin’.”

  “Shut up, Andersen, and get in the car,” commanded Fears.

  Naz didn’t move. Roffio looked at Fears again, gave an arrogant laugh, and slowly put the gun down on the ground. Meri bolted off the porch and jumped in the backseat of Fears’ car. Naz slowly walked up to Roffio and picked up the gun.

  “Andersen!” boomed Fears. “What are you doing?”

  Naz stood slowly and leveled the gun at Roffio’s head. Roffio wasn’t laughing anymore.

  “Andersen!” Fears yelled again.

  Meri watched, stunned.

  Naz leaned in so only Roffio could hear his words. “I know what you did … to my friend.”

  “Andersen!”

  “Stay away from me. Stay away from my family.” Naz gave a sardonic grin, then ran and jumped through the window of the passenger side of the car as Fears pulled off the same way he pulled up: with squealing tires.

  “Explain!” Fears commanded as he sped away. “What’s going on?”

  Naz’s newfound confidence did not extend to giving Fears the silent treatment the way he had done with Pauling and Dr. Gwen.

  “Now watch this, Coach. There was absolutely no investigation into Artie’s death … none.” Naz fidgeted with the gun in his lap.

  “I’m gonna say it one more time, Andersen. Explain!” Fears echoed, as if he hadn’t heard Naz’s comment. “And give me
that gun before you shoot me in the leg.”

  Naz handed Fears the gun. “Artie was probably the first real friend I had, and he was murdered. And you know it, Coach.” He looked in Fears’ eyes. “Now I can’t prove it yet, but when I can, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Forget what you can prove, Andersen. Talk to me. I’m listening.”

  This was the first time Naz had seen or talked to Fears since he was suspended, and he had dreaded the confrontation, but as he choked back the dread, he began to feel liberated, and surprisingly the words came out easily. He gave Fears a blow-by-blow of what happened in school that day with Dill and Denali as well as the particulars of how he and Meri had come home to find themselves locked out of the house with company waiting. He purposely neglected to mention that Dill and Denali had implicated Ham. Fears had a big place in his heart for every player on his team and he would just think Dill and Denali were trying to put a wedge between the players and muddy the waters.

  Naz knew Ham had something to do with it, but he needed proof: something more than a tattoo on the forearm and the words of two incompetent bullies. When Naz finished, Fears remained steadfast in his concern.

  “So now what? You think because you thrashed a couple of Mr. Style’s goons and threatened him, which I’m assuming you did with your closing stunt at the end there, he’s not gonna bother you anymore? You would be wrong. You’ve only upset him … embarrassed him in front of his foot soldiers. He’ll be back and this time with greater numbers. I know what you’re trying to do, son. But you haven’t thought it through. What about your little sister? By staying in this fight, you’ve brought her into it … and everyone else you care about. You need to think about that. What you have to ask yourself is, what would’ve happened if I hadn’t come around that corner?”

  Naz had a good idea, but Fears was right. He hadn’t thought it through. He could be putting Meri in grave danger by going down this path. It had become his own personal crusade. He had spent the last three years diligently protecting Meri—nothing can bring Artie back. Maybe it is time to let it go. It’s only caused me grief.

  Naz starred out of the passenger window. “Thank you.”

  Fears nodded. “Maybe you should stay close to your teammates … at least for a little while, until all this blows over.”

  Naz nodded.

  “How did you end up getting locked out of the house anyway?” asked Fears calmly.

  “Miss Tracey wasn’t home … for some reason … and she always is,” interjected Meri.

  “You don’t have a key?” asked Fears.

  “Miss Tracey doesn’t trust him … and she thinks I’m too young.”

  “Miss Tracey?” asked Fears “That pretty lady you came to the first game with?”

  “Pretty?” Naz and Meri asked in unison.

  Naz never thought of Miss Tracey as pretty—I guess she’s OK. He just now began to notice the inside of Fears’ car. It was the second time that week he had sat in a car and taken notice. He remembered the car being old when Fears pulled up, very old, but shiny looking under the one street light and no dents, as if it were brand new. The inside appeared to be brand new as well with a bunch of dials, knobs and gadgets, like something out of a spy movie. The seats were black, shiny, and made of leather, but not as smooth and buttery as the seats in Dr. Gwen’s car.

  “Did we win today?” asked Naz.

  “Barely, I think the guys are bored of winning. Maybe a loss will wake us up.”

  “Maybe they just miss me.”

  Fears gave a thunderous laugh, startling Meri.

  “How did you know to come get us?” asked Naz.

  “You’ll see,” answered Fears, his laugh subsiding.

  Fears lived in another section of the Exclave. There was nothing that distinguished Fears’ house from any of the other houses. It had metal bars on the outside of the door and every window, also not uncommon, but inside was a different story altogether. Naz had not seen its equal. With the exception of the bathroom, Fears had knocked out every wall on the first floor to create a super-room with beams strategically placed to support the second floor. The kitchen was part of the open space and there were gadgets, lights, fixtures, speakers, computers, games and other doohickeys that made Naz feel like he was in a mini science center. Meri walked slowly through the house in awe.

  “Don’t touch anything,” Naz said.

  Meri ignored him, touching any and everything in her path.

  There was a funny-looking bicycle mounted on the sidewall, and on the back wall was the biggest flat television screen Naz had ever seen, flanked on each side by two smaller screens that were still larger than anything Naz could imagine having in his room. Sitting in front of the largest screen on a long black leather sofa with game controllers in their hands were Soul and Harvis.

  “That’s how you knew to come,” said Naz. “We stick together and look out for each other … family.”

  Fears nodded smugly.

  “We tried to come with him, Tin Man,” Soul chimed in.

  Fears gave Soul a reproving look. “No thanks. It was a big enough mess.”

  Meri cleared her throat; she had wanted to meet Coach Fears and Naz’s teammates since the first game.

  “Oh, this is my little sister, Meri. Meri, this is Coach Fears, Soul, and Harvis.”

  They all nodded as Meri eagerly shook their hands.

  On the adjacent walls were shelves on both sides at eye level supporting dozens of basketball trophies, some a foot high, others almost reaching the ceiling. There were also several signed basketballs and team pictures perfectly placed to create a shrine of sorts. But something else stole Naz’s attention. Next to one of the smaller television screens was a large picture on a stand all by itself. It was a picture of a basketball team posing in their uniforms. There was a big orange U on the front of their white jerseys with the word Dreadnaught in navy blue going through it in cursive. Naz quickly scanned the picture. There he was, in the center of the back row. A little thinner, a lot more hair, but definitely Fears. Naz chuckled.

  Satisfied, Naz’s eye trailed off to the left only to accidentally recognize another face, an eerie face with a frame much thinner than he remembered, but a face, unmistakable. It was Meri’s father, Bearn Slaughter. When Naz shook his head to dispel the direction his thoughts had taken, he thought of something else. Knowing how Fears felt about team, Naz wondered: had Bearn and Fears been friends in high school?

  Naz remembered Fears saying the next year he would be the head coach for the Union High School Dreadnaught Boys’ Basketball Team, but he had no idea Fears actually went to Union when he was in high school. He couldn’t take his eyes off the picture. Back and forth his eyes went between Fears and Bearn. What will Union be like for me next year? Would he play basketball?

  There were twelve players in the picture, seven standing in the back row and five kneeling in the front—so majestic. They even had a number 32—like me. Then he pulled up short. Number 32? I know that face, too. He reached in his pocket. He had pulled the folded piece of paper out much more often than necessary to absorb its contents, but this time a compare and contrast was definitely in order. It was Cory, and Naz didn’t need the signature under Cory’s face to confirm it. There was even a resemblance in Cory’s clumsy scrawl. Naz’s eyes flitted from the picture to Fears and back.

  “That’s how you knew I could play … basketball,” Naz mumbled.

  Everyone except Fears looked at Naz, puzzled.

  “You knew my father.”

  Meri ran over to the picture. Knowing she would recognize Bearn, Naz thought to somehow conceal it from her, but it was too late. She stared at the picture.

  “Cory?” said Fears, as if it was no big deal. “We go way back … all the way to junior high school. He was the best basketball player I ever played with … and a good friend. He taught me about team and loyalty. If I could’ve played with him in college, I would’ve never gotten into trouble … never gotten hurt. I
would’ve made it to the league.”

  Hurt? It was only then Naz realized Fears walked with a slight limp, barely perceptible to the uninitiated. He always thought coach’s foot had gone to sleep or that he had stood for too long. By this time, Soul and Harvis had paused their game and joined everyone at the picture.

  “Cory was a genius,” Fears continued. “The teachers at Union hated to see him come because he always knew more than them, and he always found the funniest ways to prove it. And they hated to see him go because they knew he didn’t mean any harm. He didn’t have a malicious bone in his body, and they ultimately ended up learning from him. But basketball wasn’t big enough for Cory. After high school, he had bigger fish to fry. He was set to change the world … and from what I hear he came pretty close. You’re a lot like him … your father … on and off the court,” Fears said looking at Naz. “but better … and worse. You see things that even he couldn’t … almost before they happen. But you … are reckless, where he was cold and calculating.”

  “Small world,” Soul cut in.

  “Keep goin’, Coach,” said Naz.

  “Yeah, keep goin’,” echoed Meri.

  Bearn in the picture didn’t seem to faze Meri, and Naz knew she had seen him. She didn’t miss the little things, and Bearn had been a big thing in both their lives. She had obviously successfully blocked him out, maybe even better than Naz had.

  Fears went on about the good old days at Union High for almost an hour as he told of some of Cory’s more interesting pranks and game winning shots as well as embarrassing moments. It took a call from Miss Tracey to bring them back to present day post-Cornelius Andersen era.

  Miss Tracey offered to pick Naz and Meri up, but Fears wouldn’t hear of it.

  On the way out, Soul stopped Naz. “Hey, Tin Man, how did Dumb and Dumber find out where you live?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they followed me.”

  “Here’s a better question,” Harvis volunteered. “How did they know you’d be locked out?”

  Naz had no answer. During the short ride home, Fears reiterated that Naz think about what he was doing and consider everyone else that his decisions would affect. He also reminded Naz to stay close to his brothers on the team. Naz affirmed he would.