Forgive Me, Alex
Page 30
Right, surprise her after seventeen years with some lovely barf-breath.
As I walk down the sidewalk toward her place, I try to look relaxed, nonchalant, cool—as if somebody will call the cops or something. I'm nervous as hell, damn it, but here I am.
The doorbell emits no sound, so I also knock.
Seconds later, she opens the door and immediately dons that oh-crap-it's-a-salesman look. "May I help—?" She comes up short.
I can see her search her memory and try to sort it out.
"Oh... my... God."
"Hello, Diana, it's been a long time." The ghosts of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers are dancing the Jitterbug in my stomach, and my emotions are about to explode my brain through my skull.
She shakes her head. "It's really you."
Her hair is shorter and dyed a light reddish-brown; it looks good on her. Her eyes are mostly the same, encircled by a few thin lines, the residue of a life that's been... difficult, I imagine. The light I remember in them lurks somewhere in the background, subdued. She carries a few extra pounds, with hips that imply children.
I drift back in time. God, she looks good enough to.... I can't believe my heart is fluttering. How can that be? "It's me."
"My goodness, it has been such a long time. You look well."
Anxiety laces her words, and suspicion hangs like a hammer over the doorway.
She rifles through several questions in a vocal sprint. "Why are you here, Tony? After all this time? How did you find me? What do you want?"
She gives me little opportunity to answer. The last question is more like an accusation.
Take it easy, Tony. Just press on. "The last few weeks have been... well... difficult. A lot has happened, things that brought me back to 1978." I hesitate and attempt to recapture my nerves in a deep breath. "Mitchell Norton was released."
There, I said it. I brace for her reaction, a storm, horror.
Nothing. She already knows. Her silence is uncomfortably detached and unconcerned.
"I got drawn into this whole big drama. There were more murders in Algonquin, but it wasn't him. It wasn't Norton."
She still stares at me with that look: Yeah, yeah, I know all that.
"When it was over, I needed to put that life behind me, to find a way to start over. I wasn't quite ready—had to do a few things first. I suppose it's what they call closure."
She doesn't react, but her eyes remain lasered to mine.
"I needed to talk to you, Diana, about what happened back then. May I please do that?"
As she mulls it over, a new voice shatters the uneasy silence. I'd been so engrossed in the conversation that I hadn't heard the two boys come up behind us.
The nearest one looks at me as though deciding if he needs to run and get his gun. "Hey, Mom, I'm going over to Sean's to shoot some hoops. What time should I be home for dinner?"
"Six o'clock."
"Okay."
He looks at me again, then back at his mom, then shrugs and heads off. He and his friend hop onto skateboards and zip down the street.
I stare after him for several seconds. There's something familiar about him, but I can't quite put my finger on it. He's older than I'd expected, perhaps sixteen or seventeen, but that's impossible, since his mom and I—
Diana clearly recognizes my stunned concern—and the question. When she smiles, melancholy nevertheless peeks through as she shakes her head and stares at the ground. A cloud of resignation masks her expression.
I strain to hear her soft voice. "That was my son. His name is... Alex."
I can only stare at her with my mouth agape, my mind whirling in a twister of incredulity and confusion.
She nods. "Yeah, I thought you'd like that."
"You mean he's our...?" I can't believe it, yet I can. I still remember vividly our last time together, a night to surpass all other nights.
She smiles and deflates in a heavy sigh, which drips again with resignation and, if I'm not mistaken, relief.
She stands aside to make room for me. "You'd better come in. I'll put some coffee on. We have a lot to talk about."
EPILOGUE – August 13, 1995: Mitchell Norton
"If pleasures are greatest in anticipation, just remember that this is also true of trouble." – Elbert Hubbard
~~~~~
The critical element to good torture, of course, is pain: unfathomable, unending, but endurable—just barely—right unto the moment of death.
When the voice of the Reaper comes to call, you'd better put on your listening cap. He's quite the work, the Reaper, dedicated to everlasting misery, the exploitation of flesh, the ecstasy of terror. If the deepest, darkest and most horrifying recesses of the human mind can conceive of it, then the Reaper has already heaped it upon the dredges of humankind, already made of it a plaything, already rollicked in the pure joy of it.
His grin can freeze your blood. His words can destroy your mind. His laugh can seize your soul and send you running hysterically, gladly into the great fires.
I know. I've been there. I escaped.
You only thought you escaped.
"Am I back?"
Yes, you're back.
"Fuck a rubber duck."
Hey, Mitchell, you're the MAN!
—THE END—
About the Author
Lane Diamond is the pen name for David Lane. He grew up in Algonquin, Illinois, where he graduated from Harry D. Jacobs High School in 1978. After a short college stint, he served in the U.S. Air Force at Ramstein AB, Germany, 1980-1982, and at Lowry AFB, Denver, CO, 1982-1983. Then it was on to real life. For more, please visit his Lane Diamond's website.
Lane Diamond is also Co-Founder and Executive Editor of Evolved Publishing, an indie publisher focusing primarily on the eBook markets, and structured as part publisher, part authors' cooperative, part self-publishing on steroids—but all author-centric. For details, please visit the Evolved Publishing website.
Find more from Lane Diamond online at:
Google+ ; GoodReads ; Twitter ; Facebook ; LinkedIn
Acknowledgements
This book would never have happened were it not for the help of several people.
I must thank my little brother and his lovely wife, Darren and Rhonda Lane. Without going into all the gory details about my life taking a twisted turn, presenting me with unexpected hurdles, let me just say that Darren and Rhonda saved me. They're the real deal—fine people who understand that good deeds matter most. I love you guys. Thank you.
When circumstances changed and I needed someone else to step up, my "brutha from a different mutha," Steven Zerkel, came to my rescue. Friends don't get any better than Steve. Thanks, Mano.
Several people had a hand in helping me work out the bumps in this story. I'm always amazed at how we writers, no matter how good we might think we are, fail to see some of our own foibles. As I've long told my editing clients, it's rather as the old saw tells us: "Forest? What forest? I don't see no stinkin' forest. All those darned trees are in the way!" We all need a little help seeing past our trees to the forest within.
Author Michael A. Gibbs was the first to provide some helpful feedback. In particular, he pointed out that I needed to shift back in time one critical scene. What a difference that made in the emotional impact of the scene! Thanks, Mike.
Then my business partner, D.T. Conklin, provided an objective pair of eyes. He spotted not only the little mistakes I was blind to after so many revisions, but provided a reader's perspective to help me make some tough changes. We writers so often, as a lawyer might say, "Assume facts not in evidence." If it's in my head, then surely it's in the reader's head. Well... no. This is one of the great services an editor provides, and one of the key reasons we all—each and every one of us—need editors. Thanks, Dan.
I was struggling with a good cover for the book, both conceptually and in its execution. Enter Joshua Evans, who took my original concept, shrunk it down, wrapped it in a larger, better concept, and executed it
to perfection. Young Mr. Evans is a sold thinker, and a creative force to be reckoned with. Thanks, Josh.
Finally, let me say thanks to the entire Evolved Publishing team, even if they didn't help with this specific project. They're terrific and talented people who inspire me and give me great hope for the future.
I'm sorry if I've left anybody out.
What's Next?
Tony Hooper will return to action in the second half of 2012, in The Devil's Bane, a sequel to this novel. Beyond that, anything is possible. Stay tuned.
Lane Diamond hopes also to make a few more short stories available in 2012.
His days are quite busy with his duties as Co-Owner and Executive Editor for Evolved Publishing. He thinks 2012 will be an exciting year, as new authors, editors and artists join the team, and book releases come faster and faster. Watch for Evolved Publishing's second bi-annual Short Story Contest, which opens for submissions in mid-February 2012, and for the anthology it produces, Evolution: Vol. 2, due out in June 2012.
Some of Lane's other work:
EVOLUTION: VOL. 1 (A Short Story Collection)
10 Stories by 10 Authors, including ONE LAST THOUGHT by Lane Diamond. Edited by Lane Diamond and D.T. Conklin. Available at Amazon.
~~~~~~~~~~
DEVANE'S REALITY – A Short Story
Psychological adventure available at Amazon.
~~~~~~~~~~
WIND TUNNEL – A Short Story
A feel-good South American adventure available at Amazon.
~~~~~~~~~~
PARADOX – A Short Story
A science fiction psychological adventure available at Amazon, and FREE at Barnes and Noble, Apple, Smashwords, BookieJar.
~~~~~~~~~~
WELL-SUITED SENTRY – A Short Story
A science fiction psychological adventure available at Amazon, and FREE at Barnes and Noble, Apple (soon), Smashwords, BookieJar.
~~~~~~~~~~
THE HOBBY – A Short Story
A creepy horror story available at Amazon.
~~~~~~~~~~
Don't miss these other books from Evolved Publishing, each of which Lane Diamond had the pleasure of editing. (Click on cover to go to Amazon product page.)
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