Say Goodbye

by Brett M. Wiscons

  “Oh, Murph. I would dare and don’t you worry, you’re on my list, too. A friend of Bear’s is a friend of mine. One death at a time, though. Gotta run. See you boys this afternoon. One more thing, if you go to the authorities, you will regret it from here ‘til eternity. Toodles.”

  With that, the voice disconnected the call and Murph and I could only stare at each other in the blank, defeated way a patient stares at a doctor after they’ve been delivered a stage five cancer diagnosis.

  THIRTEEN

  Murph and I hopped in the White Squall and drove from Store Your Things to Saint Clement Church for the funeral proceedings of Grandma Bella Bella. We had to keep the proceedings on schedule even though Vinny was being held captive. Murph wanted to skip the funeral and hunt for A.W., but I knew our best bet was to show up. He’d even said ‘See you in the afternoon,’ which meant he was definitely planning on going, probably to taunt us all. He seemed like that arrogant type. Going to the funeral might be the only way to save Vinny. It was 1:22. I drove north on Clark and hooked a U-ie on Deming Place. The drive lasted about seven and a half minutes. We didn’t breathe a word to each other. We parked in the back parking lot so as to not run into any mourners in our street clothes. We disembarked from the van.

  “Smells like rain,” Murph said as we made our way inside. We were both so numb, yet I knew that I had to find A.W. I couldn’t give up on Vinny.

  “Yeah, my seasonal depression is really going to spike now,” I said as I looked dead ahead. I held the door open for him and followed in behind. Jen and Maggie had left our monkey suits in the sacristy with Father Jimmy Hollis. Luckily, he was nowhere to be seen but he’d texted earlier that we were free to wash up and change in the holy quarters. I was so angry and anxiety-riddled that I would’ve liked to piss all over the place.

  Since Vinny was a no-show, Murph took up his space as the fourth pallbearer. He joined myself and my uncles Tony and Marty, Bella Bella’s sons. Tony was 65 and still a full-time beat cop on the south side. He always said that ‘Chasing the crooks is what kept him alive so long.’ He was due to retire officially in the spring. Marty was 68 and a killer at the karaoke bars. He’d never married nor had children. The eternal bachelor. I envied him in a way. They were both starting to noticeably shrink in stature. We made our way to our seats in the pews before Father Jimmy could deliver his eulogy and gospel or whatever the fuck it is Catholic priests do now. Aside from abuse children, that is. I held hands with my wife, but the whole time I was scanning the church for anyone who might not belong there. I was riddled with fear and anger that something from my past was going to make my only brother receive a terrible outcome. Unless I could stop it first. My kids sat attentively and I was grateful for that. I kept searching the room for any sign of “the voice” from earlier today. The crowd was seemingly massive and all of the faces morphed together. Each one seemed to be laughing at me. I looked over my right shoulder and then my left. I looked up into the second level, which was under construction, but it appeared to me that a figure was up there amongst the scaffolding. It was probably a hallucination. Or was it the holy spirit? Aren’t those things the same thing? Was it A.W.? I tried to re-focus my eyes to look closer but then I didn’t see it anymore. I fought the urge to get up and sprint to the balcony, screaming Vinny’s name. But it wouldn’t help. If A.W. was up there, he’d be long gone by the time I made it up the stairs. I had to go about this another way.

  I recognized most of the people by association—either a distant cousin, or spouse or classmate or friend. I saw my old pal Trent Prince across the aisle and six pews behind. We locked eyes and he gave me the standard, somber nod that one is required to master for these types of functions. He’d recently gotten divorced from his longtime wife. He looked exhausted. Though if I happened to bump into him later that afternoon for a proper chat, I’d tell him he looked great and that his ex-wife could go to hell and we should go have a beer. Of course, if I ran into her on the streets, I’d say the same thing to her. In my defense, I was friends with both of them equally.

  I saw an old friend of my ma’s named Mits. I didn’t know what her real name was. She was always nice to me and my siblings when we were growing up. The years had been a friend to her. She’d never had children of her own, so maybe that’s why she looked so rested. Maybe she should meet my uncle Marty. There were people I didn’t recognize too, but none looked capable of torturing Vinny. Christ, there were upwards of two hundred folks in attendance. I was sure A.W. was there somewhere and was laughing at me and plotting his next move. Through the stained glass I could see the rain clouds begin to roll into Chicago. A thunderstorm in mid-December was about as rare as a one-armed man in a shirt-buttoning contest, but it did happen from time to time.

  After all the practicing Catholics had their wine and the Eucharist and Father Jimmy gave his final blessing, because, of course, this was a full on mass and not just a funeral, Murph, Tony, Marty, and I wheeled Bella Bella down the main aisle and then carried her out to the waiting hearse. The sky had opened up and the dogs and cats were falling from above and pelting us on the head and shoulders. We got her loaded into the back of the hearse and we all followed across town to Saint Mary Catholic Cemetery and Mausoleums. It was a damn near fifty-five minute drive, but those were her final wishes. She grew up nearby in neighboring Oaklawn and I’d be damned if I’d put up a stink about driving in the rain with two screaming kids at a steady 57 miles per hour in the cavalcade.

  Once we’d lain her to rest once and for all, and were good and sopping wet, I loaded up Jen and the kids so they could head back to our house on Fullerton. I stood outside the driver’s side window with an umbrella shielding me from the droplets.

  “Are you going to tell me where Vinny was today?” Jen asked.

  “I can’t. Not right now. Besides, I don’t want to talk about it with the k-i-d-s in the c-a-r.”

  “Daddy, you know I can spell, right? I’m six-years-old,” Hannah Jane said from the back seat.

  “Ya see?” I said through the side of my mouth and under my breath.

  “Just great,” Jen said. “This is great. So what is our plan?” She turned the car stereo on and up to drown out our conversation.

  “I need you to go on home without me. I’m going to hitch a ride with Trent. All I know is Vinny is in trouble and I’m to blame. I’d better get to the office.”

  She was noticeably irked. “What should I do? Why don’t we call the police?”

  “There’s nothing they can do!” I shook my head.

  “Ever hear of a missing person’s report? You may not be a genius, but you’re a smart guy.”

  “You can only file those after twenty-four hours. It’s barely been twelve. Besides, I’ve been instructed not to alert the authorities or Vinny gets whacked!”

  She looked down at her hands and then up to face me. “Why do you make things so difficult, Bear? Seriously. You take on the weight of the world on those big shoulders. Why are you too proud to ask for help?”

  “It’s not in my nature.” I stood up and backed away from the vehicle, searching for answers. “I got myself—and Vinny—into this mess; I’ll get us out. Or die trying.”

  “You should really choose your words a little more carefully now.” She shook her head in disbelief. “What with the family of four and soon to be five. Don’t come home if you die.”

  “I’m going to head to the office. I’ll call Murph to assist me.”

  “That doesn’t give me much solace,” she said. She dropped her head into her hands.

  “Yeah, I don’t know if it does me either. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “I love you.”

  “And I you.” She put the car in gear and sped off.

  FOURTEEN

  I had Trent drop me off around the corner of the storage facility. I didn’t inform him of exactly what was transpiring. He wasn’t a relative by blood or marriage, and while he and I went quite a ways back, those were my stipulations at that
moment. We made mostly small talk on the drive. He was holding up OK after the divorce. The dating scene was hard to reenter. After departing his vehicle, I began the longest quartermile walk of my life. The night air was cold. The rain from earlier had ceased and the stars painted a moonless sky. It was 8:54. I had texted Murph while en route and he said he’d be there as fast as he could. I walked briskly with a horrific feeling in my gut. I’d learned to trust it over the years. Even when I didn’t want to. I arrived at Store Your Things at nine o’clock on the dot and began climbing the steps to unit 408. My phone buzzed in my hand. I answered as I made my ascent.

  “You’re punctual, I’ll give you that,” I said.

  “And true to my word as you will soon find out, Barry.”

  “Look, I thought about it. I’ve got a deal for you that I think you might like.”

  “Go on.”

  “An even trade. I give myself up and you let my brother go. He doesn’t deserve this.”

  “Tempting, but I think I’ll stick to the original plan. I don’t like calling audibles once my ducks are in a row. Besides, I’ll get to you anyway. You’re the main course. Everyone else is just an appetizer.”

  “This is bullshit.” I stomped into the office. “What’s your name? What did I ever do to you?”

  “Is Murph there yet, Bear?”

  “Don’t change the subject, asshole. Yes, he’s here.” I lied.

  “That’s hard to believe since I cut his brake lines earlier this evening and attached a homing device to his vehicle. According to my records, he’s been sitting in the same spot on Lake Shore for the last ten minutes. Either traffic is really bad, or there’s been an accident. You never can tell.”

  I knew Murph could take care of himself, but that news made me a bit worried. I stood in the storage unit like a caged rat. I put the phone on the speaker option and placed it on the antique table so I could go hands-free. I looked around for anything that might resemble a surveillance camera. I ran my fingers under the table and then the wet bar for a bug. I was connected to Wi-Fi, so I was able to send Murph a text without interrupting my call with “the voice.”

  I got a text back immediately. “Brakes went out and I rear-ended someone on Lake Shore. Dealing with cops and insurance company and all that bullshit.”

  “You okay?” I texted back.

  “Sore neck, but otherwise fine.”

  Thank god, though it meant I was alone again—naturally.

  “Barry?”

  “What!?”

  “Now that Murph is out of the picture for a while would you like to say your fare-thee-wells to your brother? It’s kind of now or never, my friend.”

  “You’re not my friend, you cocksucker! Where are you!?”

  “Actually, fairly close by. If you guess right, I might even hold off on chopping Vinny’s head off so you can swing in on a chandelier and save the day like the hero you think you are.”

  I looked up at the aluminum ceiling and fluorescent lights and threw my hands up. “Okay. I’ll play along. Can I have a hint?”

  “Please hold.” On the screen of my phone, I got a notification that “Private” wanted to FaceTime with me. I hit the green button to allow it.

  The screen was flipped so I could see Vinny still attached to the Catherine Wheel. He looked unconscious. There was a rapid drip of blood releasing from where his wrists were tethered to the torture device. Blood trickled from his neck, too.

  “Barry, are you there?”

  “Yes, asshole, I’m here.”

  “I’ve bit my tongue for our whole conversation, but if you keep up with the name-calling, I’m going to get upset.”

  “Fine,” I growled.

  “Are you ready for your hint, big guy?”

  “Fire away.”

  “Rufus, flip on the lights.”

  I assumed Rufus was one of his henchmen.

  As the lights went on, the space lit up, revealing some incredibly familiar surroundings. I saw the same concrete floor on which I stood. A similar aluminum ceiling and fluorescent lighting that I had recently raised my hands toward. Vinny was in a separate storage unit contained within Store Your Things!

  “You see, Bear, I’ve been watching and listening to you for a while. I knew that when you set up shop in this dreadful place I would bring hell to your front door. What a terrible feeling you must have in the pit of your stomach. To be so close to rescuing your brother, and yet so far away.”

  “Vinny!” I called out. “It’s okay, man. I’m going to get you out of there.”

  “So delusional you are, Bear. There are four hundred and eight units in here. You’re in number four-oh-eight—that leaves four hundred and seven options. And the clock is ticking. I have to get to my next victim soon.”

  I didn’t have time to think about who his next victim might be. Or maybe I just didn’t want to think about it. If I forced myself to guess in that split second interval, I would have deduced it was someone who resided at 354 Fullerton Avenue.

  “Vinny? Where are you?” I called out.

  He tried to talk but it came out mumbled. I was out the door of my unit and heading down the stairs. I kept my phone in my hand and alternately looked at the screen and watched where I was running. I thought I could hear the rumble of cars through the phone so that told me he was closer to the ground floor than I was. Good going, Bear. Yours is the only unit on the fourth floor. Of course he was on a lower level than you. I worked my way across and through the 300-level of units. I tried again to coax Vinny out of his near comatose state.

  “Vinny! Give me something. Bottom of the ninth, here. Tie game. You’re up!”

  “Franklin Street!” he said, his voice strained.

  I immediately ran down to the first floor. If my guess was correct, he was housed in unit 118. When we were growing up, Grandma Bella Bella and Grandpa Alvin had a residence at 118 Franklin Street. That’s all I had to go on. I flew down the stairs to the second level.

  “Hurry, Bear. You’ll want to get here soon for this,” said the voice from off camera as Vinny lay in wait.

  I made my way down to the last set of steps. But before I could reach the ground floor, I must have caught my fucking shoelace on something because I lost my balance and tumbled hard. I slammed into the concrete floor about four steps from the bottom, my arm smashing into the ground. My phone went flying and broke into a zillion pieces. It felt like I broke my left elbow—if that was even possible.

  “Noooooooo!” I shouted.

  I pulled myself up off the ground and looked around. I was in front of unit 147 to my right and 146 to my left. The numbers went up if I turned right. So I turned left down the dimly lit corridor. When I got outside of unit 118, I tried to pull open the garage-style door but it was locked. I pressed my ear to the metal. I could hear Vinny inside moaning.

  “You, bastard! Let me in!” I shouted, banging on the door. “You’re late, Bear. This is all your fault. You couldn’t save your brother and now you’ll have to live with it. I’ll see you down the line.”

  I stood there pounding on the door for a solid five or six seconds before it automatically opened. I rushed in. Part of the wall in the back was cut out—which showed how “the voice” and Rufus had escaped.

  Vinny was in the middle of the space. As I ran to my brother, two things startled me. One: his throat had been slashed but he still had a faint pulse and was barely breathing. Two: the initials of the next victim were left in plain sight for me to discover. “The voice” had carved them into Vinny’s forehead:

  HJW

  There was a bloody fountain pen on the ground near Vinny. I assumed it was used to leave the letters on his forehead. I pocketed it. I’m not a betting man, but I knew that those initials meant my firstborn child, Hannah Jane Whitman. Tears sprang into my eyes. I was paralyzed with fear. I faintly remembered Augie telling me there was a 24-hour lounge with a courtesy phone for all paying customers. I ran to the lobby and dialed 9-1-1. “Get here an hour ago,” I
shouted into the phone.

  FIFTEEN

  In the six minutes it took for the ambulance to show up, I stayed close to Vinny. He leaned over to whisper in my ear. He told me he got a good look at “the voice” aka A.W.. Vinny was lucid enough—as I tore my t-shirt into shards to make tourniquets for his wrists and throat—to inform me that A.W. was seeking retribution for someone he loved dearly and I had a hand in killing a few years prior, although I wasn’t directly involved with his final demise. A.W. was about six feet, two inches. Two hundred and twenty pounds. Incredibly trim and fit with stark white hair and a heavy beard as well as a meticulous methodology about him. A black bow tie completed his ensemble of a crisp white dress shirt, red slacks and black shoes. He moved around with grace and ease. Probably 45-years-old, give or take.

  “I’m not afraid to die, Bear,” Vinny whispered when he was finished giving me the details. “I always assumed I’d die young anyway. Guess I was right.” He coughed up some blood.

  “Stop it. You’re going to be fine.” I didn’t, in that moment, actually believe it.

  “No, I don’t really think so. It’s okay. I was at the end of my rope anyway. I’d thought of suicide more than once lately. How did I fuck up my life so much?”

  “Vinny! You’ve got a wife and kids who adore you. Stay with me! Keep your eyes open.” I clenched his hand extra tight.

  “Sometimes that’s just not enough, bro. Look at Chris Cornell.”

  “C’mon, man. Don’t go there. Cornell was different. He’d fought that darkness his whole life.”

  “Yeah, me too. I’ve been hearing voices for a while. Maybe this is for the best?”

  “Goddamn it, don’t say that! Where is that fucking ambulance?” I yelled out loud to no one in particular.

  “Bear, promise me you’ll look after my family?”

  I was getting lightheaded. “No, I won’t promise that because you’re going to be fine, damn it!” I started to cry. He started to cry.

  “Promise me!” He blinked his teary eyes.