"Anytime Ethan, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
"Uncle Kevin, is Allison coming back tomorrow?” Ethan’s face was filled with fondness as he asked his question.
"I don’t know, buddy. I think she has to fly home tomorrow.” Kevin turned his attention to Allison, “What time’s your flight, Allison? If it’s later, we’d love to have you back.”
It was a spontaneous request, fueled as much by Ethan’s innocence as Kevin’s own desire not to let her go just yet. Kevin tried not to appear overly anxious as he awaited her response.
She looked at both of them; it was almost overwhelming, surreal at the very least. She had been a part of their lives for less than a few hours, yet she felt unmistakable dread at the proposition of losing them so quickly. “My flight leaves at four o’clock, could we have lunch?”
Ethan made his suggestion as Kevin sat amused, “How about a picnic, Uncle Kevin?”
"That sounds perfect, pal.”
"Cool.”
Ethan walked toward his bedroom, throwing out his goodnights as he went.
"You didn’t have to do that, you know?” Allison said quietly as Ethan stepped out of the room.
"What? Inviting you back for a second meal? It’s the least I could do, what if dinner was a fluke? I don’t want you leaving here with an unrealistic image of me.”
"Way too late for that, you have been the perfect host.”
"You’ve made it all too easy. I’m not quite sure how to explain it. I just feel, I don’t know, comfortable around you, familiar. Is that okay to say?”
Allison let her hand slide across the table, stopping only when it lightly touched Kevin’s, “I was thinking the exact same thing.”
Kevin watched her, felt the warmth of her hand, her eyes, and allowed it to spread throughout his body. It was electric, and it was something very unfamiliar to him. He had never felt this lost before; he was without reference for this most personal experience. The only true measure of comfort he had ever known had arose from his own company; it was always that way out of necessity. He had known women, a couple of them from long ago, but they were flawed creatures just as he was. They were momentary distractions from an abstract existence; Allison was something altogether different.
Allison noted with immeasurable delight that Kevin turned his hand over to accept hers. He was holding it with a tenderness she had never known; as if he believed she was something easily broken. His face softened as his gaze intensified. Allison’s mind whirled with images and scenarios as the distance between them dissipated.
Everything was so quiet now, Kevin could hear the faint difference in Allison’s breathing. She was so close and the scent of her was truly intoxicating. What was stopping him? He could have her; her actions were making that much clear. In the last few heartbeats her face had changed, had taken on a glow of anticipation, of something else, but what? Desire? Kevin was no master in this arena and he knew it. He wanted more than anything to make this moment last, freeze frame it for all time so he would have at least one good memory to call upon when the rest of them called out to him in the darkness.
"Allison, I’m not sure what. . .” He whispered to her.
Allison heard the sound of his voice. It felt far off; her heartbeat was too loud. She closed her eyes and willed it to calm. He was saying something, talking to her instead of kissing her; she was unsure what had happened. She opened her eyes and was relieved to find his face still close to hers.
"I want this to be perfect,” he said.
At some point he had taken hold of her other hand. He held both of them now. She looked down to see this, noticed how easily his being enveloped hers.
He was tracing slow semi circles along the top of her hands with his thumbs, as he awaited her response.
"You tell me what you want, Kevin. Whatever it is I’m willing.”
"I want to see you again; I want to get this right.”
His face was right next to hers now. His cheek laid softly upon hers, his breathing warm upon her skin.
"I’ve never been close to anyone.” He paused, “I need you to tell me this is okay.”
Allison turned into him then, rested her parted lips upon his jawline, spoke softly into his ear, “It’s okay. Of course it’s okay.”
Allison moved from her chair to be closer to him; the movement found her within his arms now. He stood, taking her with him. In one swift, effortless motion he swung her up into his embrace.
Hours passed in a bed he barely used, by the light of a distant grey moon. She clung to him like life itself as he let go the pain, shadows and nightmares of a lifetime alone. For now, for this one night, he was not alone. The sky’s light changed colors through the bedroom curtains as night quietly passed into morning. Kevin sat still watching Allison sleep. She was folded into herself upon her left side. The image made Kevin think of a well-kept house cat, safe in the knowledge no outside predator would ever be allowed to harm her. She awoke as if she’d never really been asleep. Her shifting was graceful and slight; she turned to find him watching her. “What are you doing? Come back to me.” She stretched her right arm out to find him.
"You looked so peaceful I didn’t want to disturb you,” Kevin said softly into her hair.
"Kevin Anderson, you are now the one person who can always disturb my peace.”
He smiled at the way his name sounded leaving her lips. He held her from behind, pulling her into him while inhaling deeply. She startled then, “What time is it? Is Ethan up yet?”
"Relax, it’s barely 5:30. Ethan sleeps till at least nine on the weekends.”
Her body did relax then. She rolled to face him. “I don’t want to give him a bad impression, have him think me some scarlet.”
Kevin laughed at the antiquated term, “I think his opinion of you would suffer no ill-effect, but I understand your point.”
"Should I go then?”
"Only if you promise to return.”
"Of course I will. You did say you were feeding me again, right?”
At her car, Kevin held onto her as long as she would allow. He spent these last moments memorizing the smallest details of her face, body, smell. He was devouring her as a man would a sip of water in the desert.
She kissed him softly and spoke through slightly parted lips, “I’m not sure I can leave you.”
He held fast, “Then don’t.”
"Only a few hours, right, and I need new clothes, a shower, a toothbrush, maybe a minute or two of sleep.”
Kevin smiled at her warmly, “The practical side reveals itself.”
She turned her face up to his, “Until last night I never knew anything else.”
"I’ll take that as a compliment.”
"You should.”
In the next moment she was gone, driving away as she had come just a day before.
“Sunday”
Alum Rock Park had always been a favorite retreat for me. I had ran wild there with Peter when I was a boy, told crazy stories of Albino Zombies and played hide and seek behind massive trees, awaiting the perfect time to jump out and scare the piss out of my best friend. Even in high school this place was cherished for make-out sessions in the back seat and ghost stories to make one’s skin crawl when the night fell along with the temperature.
Today it was the perfect spot for Ethan and I to entertain Allison before her departure to a home I’d never seen.
I had prepared a basket of sandwiches, cut up fruits, almonds, and cheeses. Ethan had decided lemonade would be a suitable drink, along with a massive hunk of left over cake. The day was cool and clean, and the sun was present but not unreasonable. I laid the blanket out and assisted Allison to her place amongst the treats. She laughed and smiled more than anyone I had ever known. It was inspiring to know people felt this way every day somewhere. She appeared completely at ease sharing this simple meal and time with us. Food nearly gone, Ethan peddled off to the lake’s edge with bread crumbs for the ducks. Allison watched him run off and rema
rked again at what a good boy he was. We were alone.
I immediately pulled her close to me, kissed her as I had last night and thanked her for sharing herself with me one more time. She looked thoughtfully at me, said enough to let me know everything was as it should be, “Last night was the best night of my life, Kevin. I feel silly saying this, but I don’t think I want to leave you.”
I felt exactly the same way. “I don’t want you to go, Allison. I believe the bureau would understand if you called in and resigned.”
Allison smiled her smile and chuckled. “Just a courtesy call to say thanks for the last few years, but I’m all done?”
"Sure, people do it all the time,” I said with mock sincerity.
"Maybe I should extend the professional courtesy of a two week notice, you know, let them find a replacement.”
"Okay,” I said, “but no more than that.”
It was easy. I was using tone and inflection to sound light, but truthfully her staying would have been just fine with me. I felt truly alive for the first time in, well, forever.
Allison had moved to lay her head upon my chest when I saw them, three Hispanic males, all wearing the color red, all walking in a straight line toward Ethan. They were maybe a hundred yards away from me, perhaps twenty from Ethan when I stood up. I told her I would return shortly, and she asked what was wrong. To anyone not crazy, this may have seemed like three other park patrons out for a walk. For a former cop, one who has dealt with shitbag gangbangers, it seemed to be just what it was.
I saw, with little surprise, one of them push Ethan into the lake. They were laughing wildly as I broke into a sprint.
"There you go homie; feed them fucking ducks real close up. Norte bitch!” The shortest of them cheered loudly, unaware of what was closing in fast.
I wanted to shout out to Ethan, tell him it would be alright, I would be there in a second. I wanted this; however, I wanted to surprise these assholes almost as much.
"Oh shit, Holmes, look at this crazy white boy coming. Let’s bolt homie.” One of them had some sense, and attempted to use it, cutting a straight path for the parking lot fifty yards away. A second one, also tried to run, but was fat and not too swift in his getaway. His slung low, way too big, ridiculous clown jeans were hindering his escape as much as his overgrowth. The third, my pusher, stayed behind with his fists up, moving them in slow circles near his waistline. He was the tough guy, he was the one that was going to show me what happens when you mess with his crew. He was taller than the other two and skinny as a whip. He was maybe twenty years old, but tried to present himself much older, head shaved, tattoos of some homemade representation of gang life, with Roman numerals and somebody’s name scribbled on his neck in
prison black ink. Wife beater tank with a red sweatshirt draped over his neck and shoulders, black dickie shorts cut to knee length, and long white tube socks which were stretched high to meet the bottom of the shorts awaited me. Yep, he was the quintessential shitbird in all its glory, pissed off at the world that he believed owed him something. Gang members, for the most part, were all the same. They based their strength on the simple fact that most people were afraid, and in numbers they could walk around and intimidate and persuade without consequence.
Today would be a fantastic life lesson for them.
I slowed as I came within striking distance. I noted a few things in that instant. Ethan was fine. He was already pulling himself up out of the water. The pusher was talking as they all do, some nonsense about how he was going to kill me. It was a truly scary speech, right up until the point where I smashed his mouth. One shot and he dropped. I knew from experience he would be out for a while. His circling hands, legs forward, upper body tilted back style had left him compromised for a straight right hand to the chin. I barely felt the impact, so flawless was the strike.
His chin folded under as his neck and head snapped forward, a disconnect of the brain stem, lights out.
I asked Ethan if he was okay while jogging toward the others. Ethan replied that he was, as he held himself to quiet the chill. I didn’t look back at Allison. I knew what her reaction to this would be, what it would be to all normal folk.
Fatty hadn’t made it halfway to the parking lot when I caught up with him. I could have done so many things, but chose the simplest, a front thrust kick to the back and he was down. He reached out to break his fall and slid heavily with the weight he carried. He yelled out to the other, the last, to shoot me.
It wasn’t that kind, however, more like, “Blast this fucking fool, homie!”
Now, save that last request, that ignorant utterance to end my life because I was displeased with these three assholes harming my loved one, I would have spared ol’ lunch box there, would have let him pick himself up at his leisure, but the hate smeared order for his associate to kill me left me void any charitable feelings at the moment. He could wait, I supposed. Even if he was allowed to run from the scene at a full gallop, he wouldn’t make it far, and if shitbird number three was in possession of a firearm, which was highly likely, I needed to attend to him first.
He was manipulating the door lock of an ancient Chevy sedan when I pulled up close.
"You better back the fuck up Holmes!” he screamed as I walked into view.
"Why?” I asked with little emotion or pretense.
"You wanna get shot, fool. I will ice you motherfucker!” The words flew from him with such anger, such menace. They must all attend the same drama club, I thought.
"Shoot me? Ice me? Why so drastic? Perhaps we could just talk.” My tone was mild and humble, my inflection that of one trying to soothe an injured animal. I was seconds away from ruining his hate filled mouth, but outwardly, I was a high school counselor.
"You’re fucking crazy fool; get the fuck out of here.” Again the screaming, Jesus Christ didn’t these guys ever talk at a normal pitch or volume?
"Afraid I can’t do that friend.” I was slowly walking toward him, his hands still not visible. His homeboy, the chunky monkey, was back in his ear from afar, “Blast him Holmes. Don’t listen to that motherfucker. Shoot his ass!”
I realized then he hadn’t made it into the car. The gun was still in the car.
If not, if he’d already obtained the weapon, he’d be pointing it at me like they love to do -- gun held sideways, one handed, really solid shooting platform for assholes.
"You don’t have it, do you?” My voice remained perfectly tranquil.
"I’ll do it, motherfucker, one more fucking step, homie.”
"You should stand there and take what’s coming, you’ve earned it.”
He tried with renewed interest to open the passenger side door. No disengage remote for these guys, they had to open the door the old fashioned way -- place key in lock -- not an easy task when all fine motor skills have abandoned you in a wave of panic induced adrenaline.
I ran at him and he tried to run. He slipped in his maddened state and I was quickly atop him. He was holding strong with the tough guy act right up until the point where I loosened his teeth. I didn’t hit him anymore than was required. It all gets mixed up in the wash when you’re having fun. I’d have guessed three, possibly four blows did the trick. One of those, along with his hysteria, disengaged the on switch. He was motionless when I left him.
Fats was on the move and really chugging it for one so large. I set out after him as Allison pulled the car up in front of me, her eyes pleading, and Ethan seated beside her. “Get in the car Kevin, please.” I looked at her, saw her without seeing her. I wanted, needed, to catch that last man. He still had a dog in the fight, so to speak, and I needed to set it free. “Kevin!” she was much louder this time, not screaming, but close to it. Obviously, I must have appeared insane to her. I let it rinse over me, let the desire to hurt subside. She was still talking, still pleading when I let myself into the car. She took off out of the lot like we were the criminals.
I was sitting there still and in control as we hit the main road out.
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"Jesus Christ, Kevin, what the hell was that about?”
I didn’t speak, not immediately anyway. What I said now had to be reasonable, had to outweigh the last several minutes in her mind. She’s seen me in my natural state, got to live amongst the apes in their native habitat. She was freaked out for sure. Who wouldn’t be? My partners wouldn’t be, but for her, for civilians, that was a frightening scene without a doubt. I took a breath, though it really wasn’t necessary, more for her sake as normal people don’t usually get into fights without having to take a few minutes to regulate their breathing, emotions, blood pressure, all non-factors for me, again something she didn’t need to be aware of just yet.
I began: “I saw Ethan attacked by three subjects and I felt compelled to intervene. He’s my responsibility, Allison, and though he’s quite a tough little man in his own right,” I ruffled Ethan’s hair, a gesture to add levity to the moment, “three full grown men is a little much for any ten year old to take on.”
"Thanks, Uncle Kevin,” Ethan offered with a slight smile.
"You got it, pal, anytime.” I said the words hoping it all sounded as innocent as I desired.
Allison was not so sure, and her thoughtful attention to the road ahead made that clear. She waited a beat or two before responding, “I don’t know, Kevin. I get it, it was a really stupid thing to do, them pushing Ethan into the lake, but your reaction to it,” she paused, “is that how you handle all situations where you feel someone has done something stupid?”
I tried to put myself in her shoes, perceive it through her eyes, and still was unable to see the wrong in my reaction. The world was on her side on this one, I was sure. I just wasn’t built that way and never would be.
At this moment in time I wished for nothing more than to be alone. I didn’t want to justify myself to her, or make excuses for righting a wrong. That’s how the world got to be the fucked up place it is, people making excuses for others’ bad behavior, turning the blind eye, etc. No, you hurt someone innocent, someone who never hurt anyone, then you get hurt in return, simple as that, eye for an eye. I couldn’t tell her this, of course. Two minutes in time had wiped clean a wonderful night. A stupid act carried out by even stupider people. I made up something to conceal my truest sentiment, “Look, I apologize if my actions brought you discomfort. I saw them hurting him, and I responded. Call it training, or protective instinct, I just wanted to make sure he was safe.”
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