Say Goodbye

by Brett M. Wiscons

  I whispered in his ear. “I know it’s been a rough few months, Zak. Just give me your rooftop access card or it’s going to only get rougher.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Batman. Give me the damn card, Zak. They don’t pay you enough to cover a broken neck. I might even break an elbow too if you don’t hurry. Don’t be a hero.”

  He didn’t struggle, only laid slack in my arms. All five feet, nine inches of him. “What do I care? My life is going down the fucking gutter anyway.”

  “Things can only get better, my friend. Let’s go. I’ve got to see a man about a horse up on the roof.”

  He looked puzzled. “You do?”

  “Look, I don’t want to get into a whole thing with you here. I just need the key and I’ll be on my way.”

  “I’ve got to look like I put up a fight at least. I need this job. Will you do that for me? Here. Here’s the key.” He handed it backwards to me. I still had him in the sleeper hold with my left arm and grabbed the key with my right. In one move, I popped the key in my mouth, turned him around and delivered a heavy knee into his midsection. I helped him to the ground as he gasped for air. I stood over him and thought that might not have the look of a fellow who was worked over, so I picked him up and steadied him against the wall and then popped him good with a quick left jab in his right eye. He slid down the wall, holding his eye with one hand and gave me a thumbs up with the other. I grabbed my burner phone off the floor before I hit the access door.

  I hustled up the remaining seven flights of stairs and when I stepped out onto the roof of the Willis Tower I felt a chill in my bones. There was a lot of wide open space. I didn’t know if A.W. had a gun, a tank, a posse or what. I still had my briefcase with me and so I sprinted behind one of the massive antennas. When I assumed I was safe, I pulled out the burner phone and dialed *1. After two rings, A.W. answered. This time without the aid of the voice scrambler.

  “Barry? Did you chicken out?”

  “I’m here. Where might you be?”

  “I’ll make my grand appearance. Don’t worry. I can’t believe I get to wipe out both Whitman boys within a matter of days. How was Florida? Is your family really that safe at that safe house?”

  “Let’s get on with this, prick. I’m here. Show yourself.”

  “I’m about to.”

  Just then I heard the loud, thunderous roar of a helicopter. I instinctively grabbed the gun out of the briefcase and wheeled around. A.W. was operating the chopper himself. I had to hand it to him—he was perhaps more of a renaissance man than I was. It didn’t appear anyone else was in the aircraft. He taxied it down in the middle of the roof and cut the engine. As he stepped out, I got a good look at him and wished I’d been hitting the gym more and the bottle less. He had on an all-white suit and the shoes and shirt to match. He came walking towards me and so I pocketed the phone but not the gun. We were ten feet apart. He had shaved the thick beard he’d kept while he’d been visiting Bella Bella.

  “Well,” he said. “Here we are.”

  “Yes. And only one of us is leaving with a pulse. If you had just let sleeping dogs lie, Alex, it could’ve been you.”

  “You killed my brother. I killed yours. We should be even. But we’re not. You see, I idolized my brother and when you took him away from me, a part of me died, too.” He advanced on me in a slow manner.

  “Well, the rest of you is going to join that part soon. I promise you. I’m not normally one to keep score, and yet, I couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t. You took out my grandmother and friend in addition to my only brother.”

  “I had to get your attention somehow.”

  “You ever hear of a telegram?

  He shook his head. “I thought about maybe just killing Vinny, but I’ve kept tabs on your career and your life since you killed Cal. You’ve had a lot of positive things happen for you. You also have an ego the size of Lake Michigan and, quite frankly, you annoy me. So I decided I would take your life apart brick by brick and bring you to your knees.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m close to locking in on this safe house you have your family in.”

  “Good try. Are you up here to scare me into lying down on the guillotine? I’ve been to hell and back. I would gladly go over the edge of this building with you in my arms and laugh all the way down.” I wasn’t sure if I was bluffing or not. From where I was standing, I knew I was facing west and he was facing east. Wacker was to A.W.’s back.

  “Well, let’s put the guns down and just see what happens, eh, Bear?”

  “I never saw your gun, but sure. You first.”

  “I’m always packing. The second amendment. It’s a beautiful thing. Imagine. Damn near any crazy fool off the street can buy one.”

  I nodded in his direction and said, “I can see that.”

  He had two holsters under his jacket and withdrew both firearms and tossed them to the side. I started moving towards him ever so slightly. I bent down and set my gun on the ground and kicked it to my right. He was backing up just a tad. I tried to angle him towards the southwest corner of the building—right at or near the apex. He played along but then stopped a few feet from the ledge. I don’t think he expected what came next. Especially from a man of my size.

  My previous life as a rugby player at Notre Dame came in handy. I launched at him from the six feet distance between us and landed on top of him. We were mere feet from the ledge. While I’m sure it all seemed chaotic and ill-timed, I had a plan all along. With all of my weight on him, we snaked along together across the tar roof under the starry Chicago sky. He tried to wiggle free, but I had him in a vise grip so tight you couldn’t even sneak a piece of floss between our bodies. I scooted towards where the roof ended and the air began. I was ready to eradicate pure evil from the world. He looked at me with intrinsic dread. I head-butted him and then bent at the knees with him still firmly in my grasp. The blood had already pooled on his fresh white suit. I held him upright in a bear hug with his feet just dangling over the edge. I took a step and turned to fall parallel with the building. As we plunged, I lay on top of him and hoped my brother was nodding his approval in some faraway universe.

  TWENTY-THREE

  One Mississippi later, we landed with a thud on top of one of the Sky deck observatory glass boxes. The structure was reinforced with tempered glass that was able to hold ten thousand pounds. I had hoped we would’ve just plummeted to our collective death, but I could make due with this outcome. A.W. moaned and groaned on impact. By that point, nobody was in the observatories any longer. It was only a few days before Christmas, after all, and there were presents to wrap, stockings to hang and eggnog to consume. The odds of actually sticking the landing on the sky box and not below on Wacker had to be astronomical. But I’ve always had luck on my side.

  A.W. was coming to. Between the concussion he must have endured and my weight on top of him, I would have wagered he wanted to be put out of his misery, but he wasn’t ready for that just yet. He popped me good with a closed fist to the left side of my head. I instinctively rolled to my right and off of him and was up against the Willis Tower with my back turned to my rival. I caught a placard when I’d first arrived on the scene, before I took Zak’s roof access card that listed the dimensions of the four glass boxes. Each one protruded nearly four-and-a-half feet out from the skyscraper and were roughly twelve feet across. There wasn’t much room for error. I played possum and when A.W. rose up to his feet to come at me, I rolled over, swept his legs and lunged for him as he fell hard on his left side. I climbed on top of him, pinning his arms. I took his fat, stupid head between my extra behemoth hands and smacked it over and over again on the thick glass until I saw skull fragments and brain matter. When I knew he was good and dead, rolled off of him and fumbled around in his pockets hoping for a cigarette. When that search came up dry, I innocuously reached into my pants pocket, pulled out the burner, and dialed *2.

  “Bear, what’s up?”

  “Well, I’m in a bit in a pi
ckle and I am, currently, up. As in way up.”

  “Willis Tower. I know. Don’t hate me, but I bugged your phone. Only as a means to keep an eye on you and help out if need be.”

  “Okay. Fine by me. Friends like you are hard to come by. I need a favor here. I’m kind of out of options.”

  I explained my situation and my whereabouts and he told me he had a guy close by who could operate the chopper that A.W. had left behind. He asked me to just hang tight. I told him that was about all I could do. I heard the chopper fire up a few minutes later and as it floated out above me by about ten feet, a white rope ladder was thrown down. I stepped over A.W. and really did consider kicking him off the glass box and letting him go splat on Wacker, but then I decided that would be a helluva clean up operation and there was a slight chance his dropping carcass would land, unannounced, on an unwitting citizen. I couldn’t have that on my conscience. I left him up there to rot and climbed up the ladder.

  I was taken aback when I saw who was piloting the helicopter.

  “Zak? But, aren’t you just a lowly security guard?”

  He gave me a tight smile. “I’m retired CIA. Brent and I go way back. He asked me to lend a hand if it was needed.”

  “Jesus. Why did you make me rough you up? Why didn’t you just give me your key?”

  “I had to sell it, Bear. That’s how these things stay believable. Besides, it was actually kind of a rush.”

  I accompanied a shoulder shrug with a nod. “I’m grateful for the ride, Zak.”

  The fog had lifted and the temps had dropped substantially. Below us, I watched as thousands of headlights moved in all directions. I saw the green, yellow, and reds at work, too. No matter our socioeconomic standing, we were all slaves to the congruent traffic light. I wondered how long A.W. would last up on the skybox if the wind picked up. In a matter of fact fashion, with his eyes forward, Zak mentioned that there would be a cleaning crew arriving directly to get rid of the body and tie up any other loose ends. He asked me where I wanted to go. I told him to fly south and parallel to Lake Shore Drive for a bit and I’d let him know when I was ready to go somewhere else. I wanted to exhale a few times before I reached a decision.

  **********************

  Since Zak couldn’t easily drop me in my back yard, I had him head over to DePaul’s campus and lower down on Wish Field where the soccer teams competed. I told him I’d walk the point eight miles back to my house and figure out my life from there. He said I shouldn’t hesitate to call Westwood if there was anything he could do in the future. I thanked him for the ride and everything else.

  I walked home in the frigid cold and could only think of reuniting with my family. When I got to the house, I hoped the hide-a-key was still where it always was. I reached up on tiptoes, and to my delight, I was able to grab it from its secure perch above the door frame on the front porch. It was 11:48 p.m. I kicked off my shoes and walked into the kitchen. I cracked an Amstel and sucked half of it down before I called Murph from the landline.

  “Bear? Jesus. Everything hunky-dory?”

  “I’m in one piece. The same can’t be said for the other guy. Bring my family home, would ya? I miss them desperately.”

  “We’ll be there in the morning. Bear?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Your sisters and Cassie set Vinny’s funeral for two days from now.”

  “Alright. I’ll be there. See you tomorrow and thanks.” I hung up and glanced at the Disney princess wall calendar to the left of the fridge. Two days from now would be Christmas Eve.

  I’m dreaming of a shitty Christmas.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  My attempt to re-ingratiate myself back into the normalcy of life had taken its toll. I was in denial about Vinny and everybody knew it. From the time Murph dropped off Jen and the kids, I had barely put down a bottle, come out of the basement or taken the needle off of L.A. Woman by the Doors. The morning of December 24th was no different. I’d been up half the night and fell asleep on the futon down in the subterranean. Jen woke me up abruptly by turning on all the lights and pleading her case until I started stirring.

  “After we get through this,” Jen said, “I really want you to see a therapist.”

  “Oh, do ya, now?” I said, shielding my eyes.

  “Yeah. I do. Today, it was me waking you up, but tomorrow it could be Hannah Jane. Do you really want her to see you like this?” I stared blankly at her. “Bear, you always conveniently forget that I minored in psychology in college. You appear to have PTSD about this whole thing.”

  “I have a therapist. Two, actually. Their names are John Jameson and Jim Morrison.”

  “I’m not joking around about this. I’m here now out of respect for your brother and your family. I won’t hesitate to leave for good if you decide you don’t want to change and get some help. You can’t stand in the doorway forever. Soon you’ll have to decide if you’re in or you’re out.”

  “You’d take the kids from me?” I said as I tried to sit up.

  “Don’t try and turn it around on me. I don’t want to. Just please take a shower and dry out for a bit. Have you written the eulogy yet?”

  “No, I prefer to speak off the cuff. He would’ve wanted it that way.”

  “Are you sure? Do you have any idea what you’re going to say in front of everyone to honor your brother?” She started folding the blanket I had been using.

  “It’ll all reveal itself to me at the right time.”

  “Jesus Christ. Take a shower. We have to be there in three hours. I’m running out with the kids. We’ll just meet you there. Remember, it’s a small ceremony out on North Avenue Beach, right in front of that bar Castaways. Billy was nice enough to open the restaurant for us after the ceremony. Thank god it warmed up a little bit. See you at three o’clock.”

  “All right. See you.”

  She turned around and walked up the stairs. My head hurt. My heart hurt worse. She was right. But I didn’t want to agree with her just yet. There was that pride of mine again. I waited down in the basement with my lifelong companions guilt and shame until I heard the back door open and close and was sure they were out of the house. Then, I made my way up to the main floor. Brewed some coffee. Unwrapped a frozen breakfast burrito and threw it in the microwave. Unplugged the Christmas tree and stood alone in my house on the verge of tears. And, if I was being honest with myself, the verge of suicide. I didn’t know how I could live my life without my brother in it—which snowballed into the desire to numb the pain, which would undoubtedly lead to my family leaving me. It was a hell of a cycle. It would have been much easier to just slit my wrists and bleed out in the bathtub. However, the thought of my wife or one of my kids discovering me was simply too much for me to process. That kept me alive. That, and the incessant beeping of the microwave to alert me that my burrito was ready.

  I polished off the makeshift breakfast and mug of Joe and was slowly coming out of my familiar fog. I refilled my mug and walked up the creaky, wooden staircase. I turned on some Miles on my iTunes and made the water as cold as I could stand it. I had a good cry. I’d been doing a lot of that lately. I shaved in the shower. Once out, I dressed in my black suit, maroon turtleneck and black shoes. I was out the door at twenty-two minutes past one.

  As I drove south down Lake Shore, I forced myself to think about Vinny and what I was going to say to the soon to be gathering group. I went back to some of my earliest memories. Growing up on West 83rd street. Through our school years. The time he tried to give himself a haircut. I actually laughed out loud about that one. His storied baseball career. How good he was to animals and most people. His love for sandwiches and beer. The thought of him facing down sure death with the courage he showed would make anyone proud—and ponder how they might react if they were to stare down the same circumstances.

  I pulled into the parking lot of Castaways and went inside to wait for the rest of the guests. We still had ninety minutes until the service. True to his word, our old pal Billy h
ad opened the place up special for us. He was devastated to learn the news and wanted to do whatever he could. He and Vinny played high school ball together. I saw him when I arrived and he yelled at me from across the room and said to sit wherever I’d like, he’d be over later. I asked if the rooftop was open and he said absolutely it was. There were some warm, open cases of bottled water sitting on one of the tables so I grabbed a bottle and headed upstairs. I had a bird’s eye view of the door and the guests who would begin to arrive at any second. It was only going to be close family. Even though he didn’t have a formal will, that’s what Vinny had told Cassie he wanted and everyone respected his wishes. My mother even bit her tongue since we all knew she’d have preferred to have the ceremony in a catholic church somewhere.

  The lake air was brisk and cold. The thermostat outside read thirty-six degrees. Cars started to pull in for Vinny’s send off. Our uncle Sal was the first to arrive. He was a cantankerous son of a bitch, but on the other hand, he’d always been a ‘shirt-off-his-back’ kind of guy. I stood up and watched as the cars began to file in. I threw on my Wayfarers and a part of me inside smiled. Vinny was good at so many things, but one of his best attributes was bringing people together. Murph and his family, plus my ma, breezed in next. Then Jen and our kids. Ginny and her brood. I just stayed put on my perch and stared down at all of the guests. All told, there were twenty-nine of us there to honor the life of Vincent Joseph Whitman. Cassie had his ashes in a simple, respectful dark gray urn. There was a small table near the lake shore where we were to gather. Bottled water and cold 312 beer rested on it. With the weather the way it was, I decided to keep it short so we could get back inside Castaways and have a meal and regale each other with more stories about Vinny. Once everyone had made their way down to the shore, I walked downstairs and out to join them. The wind had died down. The sun was out. I stood in front of the group and kept my sunglasses on.