by Drew Blank
Moxie scurried to her mother while I advanced on Carver. I had been trying to keep my cool up to that point so as to avoid making any irrational decisions. However, once I knew Moxie was safe, I let the rage take over. With one kick the pistol was sent sailing to the ground four stories below. Carver was sprawled out on his back. With no words, I bent over and grabbed him by his tight black turtleneck and pulled him towards me. Bending over his scrawny body I growled, “this is the last time you ever hurt anybody, Junior.” It was the first time I ever saw Blueboy’s expression change from anything beyond a smirk or a grimace. It was shock. He had worked so hard to cultivate this other persona, this alter ego, that when I made it clear I knew his secret, he was speechless. Holding him by his shirt in my left hand I used my right to pummel him.
There was no grace to what I did to Benji Carver that night. There was no flair. I simply towered over him and beat his yellow and blue face until it was overcome with red. The phrase “blinded by fury” came true for me as I completely lost sight of the spoiled man-child in my grasp. My metal lined fist just continued making contact with his skull until I felt his bones shifting beneath my glove. I was lost in rage until I heard Moxie scream.
“Daddy! Stop!”
With my fist raised, ready for another bloody assault on Carver’s face, Moxie let out a screech that reverberated off the steel beams of the tower. Her voice brought me back from the place I had escaped to. Carver remained tight in the vice-like grip of my glove, limp and pouring crimson from his eyes, nose, mouth and ears. “Daddy.” She weakly approached me, laying her hand on my leg. “Stop. This isn’t what heroes do.” Her angelic eyes looked up into my face and filled me back up with the peace that had left in an animalistic fury.
“But…” I tried to defend myself, stopping as soon as I realized I did not want Moxie to see me kill anyone, even if it was a cold blooded psychopath that had every intention of ending her and her mother’s lives. Looking back down at the bleeding mess where Benji Carver’s face used to be, I placed him down on the ground. His chest was rising and falling with every breath, fighting to force air through his collapsed nasal passages. Red spittle shot from his lips as he hissed at me.
“Giving up so soon, Hero?” His head fell to the right as blood flooded from his mouth.
“You’re not worth the effort it would take to kill you, Benji,” I said as I stood over him. “Your father will be so proud when he finds out about this.”
I bent over and picked Moxie up, squeezing her with every bit of energy I had. Her body crumbled, exhausted, in my arms.
“I love you Daddy,” she whispered as she nuzzled into the crook of my neck.
“I love you too baby,” I said, kissing her on the top of her soft, blond stubble, “more than you could ever imagine.”
Reggie stood with her back to us, arms crossed defiantly. It seemed the near death experience was not enough to convince her that I was the good guy in all this.
“Reg?” I stepped forward hesitantly.
No response.
“Reggie?” I tried again.
“Keep the fuck away from me, goddammit!” She screamed with her back to me. “Just stay the fuck away!”
“Look, Reggie. I’m sorry.” I attempted to break down her defenses as quickly as I could with an apology. “We should have told you. I should have told you,” I said to her back.
“Oh, fuck you. Why the hell would you tell me?” She was obviously bawling. The words came out in between deep erratic breathing. “I’m just a big fucking joke to you two,” she mumbled.
“Reg. C’mon. That’s not true.” I stepped closer, hoping I could get her to turn around. “This whole thing got way out of hand. I started doing it for Moxie and her treatments. It just turned into so much more.”
She remained silent, with the exception of weeping and sniffling.
“I am so sorry about Eddie. It was not my intention to kill anyone that night. It just got way out of hand.” The reality was I was not sorry for what I had done, but I did regret the way the situation turned out.
“You think this is about Eddie, you fucking retarded prick?” She finally turned around, her face bright red with tears and anger. “I don’t fucking give a shit about him! It’s not like I was gonna marry the guy!”
“So…” I didn’t know what to do or say. I thought her rage centered around the loss of Eddie. Beyond that I was clueless. I had never claimed to be great at figuring out the female mind.
“I don’t fucking care what you did or who the fuck you killed!” She was still screaming as she stomped slowly towards me. “I’m fucking pissed off at myself! We are up here right now because of me! I almost got all of us fucking killed because I was so mad at you! You even told me this would happen and I didn’t listen! What kind of shitty fucking mother am I?” She fell to her knees, completely breaking down.
“Reg, you can’t blame yourself.” I did not believe the words leaving my mouth one bit, but I was willing to say whatever it took to get us all down that ladder. “We’re alive now. Just focus on that and move on.”
“We’re alive because of you,” she whimpered into her hands. “You saved our goddamn lives. You have no idea how fucking awful this feels.”
“We’re alive. That’s the most important part.” I laid my hand on her shoulder, trying to convey some tenderness. “I’m willing to move on if you are.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re always the hero.” She took in a deep breath as she continued to weep. “I’m always the fuck-up.”
“You’re not a fuck up. You’re this little girl’s mom and she needs you right now.” I leaned down with Moxie still in my arms. “She needs us both to be heroes. The first step is to bury the hatchet and be a team. Can you do that?” My question was answered with silence.
“Mommy?” Moxie finally spoke up, lifting her head from my chest. “I love you.” Reggie’s body convulsed as she sobbed.
“I love you too, baby.” Her words were barely audible through the tears. “I’m so sorry.” She stood up and rushed me, wrapping her arms around us, burying her face into Moxie’s stubble. I fought my typical urge to recoil at Reggie’s touch and let her sob while clutching Moxie and me.
“So are we good?” I asked Reggie after a few moments of her embracing Moxie through me.
She looked up, her face soaked and swollen from tears. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re good.”
“Can we get out of here then? I hate to rush you, but this is the part where the police eventually show up and I prefer to not be here for that.” I tried to lighten the mood a little.
“What about him?” Reggie asked, kicking Carver’s lifeless foot.
“I don’t think he’s a threat anymore. Once we get down we’ll call the cops and they can come scrape him up. I’m just worried about getting this one home.” I rubbed the top of Moxie’s head affectionately.
“Does that suit fly or do we have to actually use the creepy ladder?” Reggie asked. I wasn’t sure if she was joking or if she really thought I could fly.
“Creepy ladder, I’m afraid,” I said, still clutching Moxie in my arms. “Why don’t you go first? I’ll carry her down after ya.”
“Okay…” Reggie responded wearily. “I guess I have no choice.”
“Not afraid of heights are ya?” I jokingly prodded.
“You know what they say. It’s not the heights. It’s the falling.” She tried to fake a laugh as she backed her way down the ladder.
“Just don’t look down. Twisty will be by in a few to pick us up,” I advised her. “Hear that Twisty? I don’t think the Marquis is drivable. Wanna come get us?”
You got it buddy. Twisty responded cheerfully.
Reggie disappeared with her parting words, “see ya at the bottom.”
“See ya down there. Okay sweetie. I gotta put you down for a minute.” I whispered to an almost unconscious Moxie. “Let me get on the ladder, then you can climb onto my chest. All right?”
“Okay, Daddy.�
� She yawned as I sat her on the wooden floor.
In the ten seconds it took me to divert my gaze and position myself onto the ladder, everything changed. I looked back up to find Moxie was not there. She was about two yards away from the ladder, being held around the neck by the bloody remnants of Benji Carver with a pistol pointed to her head. I never checked him for more weapons.
“Didn’t think you’d beat me that easy, did you Hero?” Carver’s voice was no longer soothingly venomous. It was deep and distorted. His words were being forced through broken teeth and pools of blood. Each syllable sprayed red from where his lips once were.
“Carver. Don’t do this.” I had resorted to pleading. With my hands and feet already planted on the ladder, there was nothing I could do. It didn’t matter how fast I was, I was not as fast as a bullet. His trigger finger could beat me any day. “I gave you a chance to give me what I wanted and you declined.” I could barely make out the words spilling from his mouth.
“Don’t,” I said.
“I couldn’t get you to be a hero by approaching your sense of valor.” Under all the swelling and bleeding, I could see fury in his eyes. It had gotten personal. “So, let’s try a new motivator. Revenge.” His face made an attempt to display a sinister smile as he held the pistol pointing straight down onto Moxie’s skull.
It was at that exact moment I realized Moxie had inherited something from me that was not as evident as the dimple in her chin. She had no fear. Looking in her eyes, I saw no fear. Just sadness. Sadness was in her whole face as she mouthed the words to me, “I love you Daddy.” Before I could respond it was over.
I didn’t hear the shot.
Everything fell silent as a fountain of red danced through the dark night.
Moxie remained on her feet as Carver’s limp body fell to the ground like a marionette that had been cut from its strings. His head bounced off the wooden floor twice before it settled motionless amidst a pool of crimson, rippling reflections of the moon.
Tom says you’re welcome. Twisty chirped into my ear.
“So he…” I was stunned as I tried to get the words out.
I was right. She continued. From up here, Cross doesn’t look so bad.
After another reuniting of kisses and hugs, Moxie and I made our way down the ladder. Reggie looked at us confused as I placed my feet on firm ground again.
“What happened up there? Is everything all right?” She quizzed me frantically.
“Everything is just fine,” I told her. “Better than fine.”
“What happened? What took so long?” Reggie was so curious, but an explanation would have to wait. I just wanted to get out of there.
“Hey guys?” I asked into the two-way. “What would you estimate Twisty’s ETA to be?”
Phil responded immediately. Any minute now.
“Great. Make sure the cops get an anonymous call to come get Carver,” I said as I ushered Reggie to the exit of the construction site, Moxie practically asleep in my arms. “Is Tom there?” I asked.
Yeah. I’m here, Orphan. Tom’s gruff voice rang in my ear.
“Thank you, man,” I said while fighting back tears. “Thank you.”
Don’t you start with that shit. Just get that kid home and in bed where she belongs. He bellowed through the communicator. And you still owe me a beer.
“Yes sir,” I said, trying to hide the sound of my sniffling. “See you guys in a bit.”
Twisty’s Prelude pulled to the curb moments later and we all piled in.
“Quite a night, eh?” My impish friend remarked as she slid out of the driver’s seat and helped us all get situated.
“You could say that,” I chuckled while laying Moxie into the backseat, positioning myself next to her. Reggie strapped herself into the passenger’s side and we were ready to go. All of us with the exception of Twisty, that is. She was busy rummaging around in her trunk.
“What’re you doin’, babe?” I hollered from the back seat, over the ding sound coming from the open driver’s door.
After slamming the trunk shut, she poked her head into the car to answer me with a question. “Was everybody that rode in the Grand Marquis today wearing gloves? How about the people that bled profusely all over its interior? Did they clean up all that DNA evidence?”
“Ummm… No,” I answered, asking no further questions.
“Then someone needs to take care of that,” she said as she held up a travel size can of gasoline and an unmistakable yellow and blue tin of lighter fluid. “Be right back.” Her face didn’t even try to hide its glee.
Moments later Twisty reappeared from behind the privacy walls. Whistling an all too familiar Talking Heads tune, she opened the trunk, slammed it shut, slid into the driver’s side, turned the key in the ignition and threw the car into drive. The Carrier Steel building shrank from view behind us, glowing an increasingly bright shade of orange.
CHAPTER FORTY FOUR
“Doctor said you’re lucky you have a hard head,” I joked to Mema, sitting next to her hospital bed. What the doctor really told me was that she had a bad concussion and probably lost consciousness from the combination of head trauma, blood loss and shock. Nothing to worry about, according to him. “How are you feeling?” I stroked her hand in mine.
“Feeling surprisingly well. They gave me some painkillers, so those have helped.” She smiled sweetly at me, squeezing my hand back. “I did complain of a pain in the ass, but the doctor said he couldn’t do anything about that.” Her grin turned evil as she displayed her ability to insult me even while under hospital care.
“Hardy har har. You know you couldn’t live without me,” I came back snidely.
With all seriousness she replied, “I know I wouldn’t be alive without you.” She continued squeezing my hand and looked me directly in the eyes. “Thank you.”
“Aw shucks. Don’t thank me,” I said with mock humility. “Mr. Chin was the hero last night,” I told her.
“I heard he was quite valiant,” she said nodding her head. “Not from him, of course. But the policeman that took our reports told me he was fending off four men to protect me. I wouldn’t have guessed he had it in him.
“I would recommend you give that one a chance, Mema,” I said. “When did he leave last night?”
“He didn’t. When I woke up he was asleep in that chair over there.” She pointed to a very uncomfortable arm chair in the corner of the room. “He left a few hours ago to see how the shops look.”
“Well, the man is a freakin’ hero,” I repeated.
“I know, dear.” She patted my hand gently. “We’ll see.”
“We’ll see is the closest you’ve ever come, so maybe there is hope for you yet, ya old maid.”
“Maybe.” She smiled. “What have you got on the agenda today?” She asked, trying to get the focus off of her.
“I’m gonna see what I can do to fix up the restaurant so it’s not such a disaster when you get out. Maybe clean up some blood. I hear blood stained floors don’t do much for business,” I laughed while getting to my feet.
“Knock knock.” We both turned our heads toward the door. Dom was standing in the entryway with a bouquet of roses in hand.
“Why ya always gotta out-do me?” I asked, pointing to the flowers.
“I need Mema to know who really loves her,” he said through his thick smirk. “How are you feelin’, Mema?” He directed his glance to the big hospital bed in the middle of the room.
“I’m fine, dear. Thank you for the flowers.” She clasped her hands in her lap politely.
“They have her all doped up. She can’t feel a damn thing,” I informed Dom while knocking Mema’s shoulder lightly.
“Good stuff,” Dom commented.
“Unfortunately, they make me tired, so I’m afraid I won’t be very good company,” she replied drowsily.
“That’s all right. You get your rest. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay,” Dom said. “I won’t keep you.” Dom crossed the room to
her bed and leaned in to kiss her forehead.
“I do appreciate you coming, sweetheart.” She grabbed Dom’s hand and brought it to her lips for a kiss. “I promise I will be back to work in no time.”
“Well, you better. I dunno how long I can go without your stromboli,” he said, only half joking. “Mind if I steal this guy while you take a nap?” He hooked his thumb at me.
“Please do,” she quipped groggily. “I can only handle so much of him in a day.”
“I love you too, Mema,” I said, playing hurt. “We’ll leave you alone.” I leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.
“Thank you again, dear.” She looked up at me, again clutching onto my hand. “For everything.”
“Don’t mention it.” I gave her hand a final squeeze and headed for the door.
“Bye Mema,” Dom said as we headed out. She silently waved to us both before closing her eyes. Dom quietly shut the door behind us.
“So, it sounds like you had quite a night last night,” Dom said as we were in the privacy of the hallway.
“Well, yeah. It was a little crazy,” I said, unsure how much information Dom had.
“Mr. Chin said you and Phil came in with guns blazing,” Dom commented, probably noticing me flinch a little. “Don’t worry. There was plenty of vigilante action yesterday. You guys were not alone. The last thing we are going to worry ourselves with is a community of good people trying to defend themselves against a bunch of lunatics.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” I said. “Because I am not sorry for anything we did.”
“Nor should you be, man. You saved Mema’s life,” Dom assured me.
“Yeah. I gotta try and keep that woman out of trouble,” I chuckled as we made our way down the hall.
“So, I need to talk to you about something. You got time?” Dom asked. I was admittedly nervous.
“Sure. What’s up?” I said with curiosity consuming me.