by Ammar Habib
Vladimir looked away and took another puff of the cigarette. “Of course.”
Ethan stared at the Russian for a few seconds. “So now we’re even. I helped you and now you’ve returned the favor.”
“You killed my brother and I brought you here. I hardly call that even.”
“Your brother was scum. Anybody who traffics women deserves the death I gave him. And he was going to kill you too.”
“Depends on who’s telling the story—”
“Shut up and give me the keys, Vlad.”
With a quick motion Vladimir wordlessly tossed a pair of keys. Ethan caught them without looking. Vladimir turned around to walk away, but Ethan’s voice stopped him. “Vlad, if I ever hear you tell anybody about this meeting then…well, you remember what I did to Jutu’s son, Baatu?”
A simple and slow nod was his only reply.
A wicked smile came across Ethan’s face. “With him, I was in a hurry and I only had a knife. With you, I’ll have all the time in the world and I’ll be sure to bring the right…tools.”
Vladimir stared at Ethan for several seconds as he registered the threat. Slowly, he looked away and motioned for his men to follow. Without a reply, the three men walked off into the misty night.
***
The last wooden crate hit the hard, concrete floor of the warehouse and its loud reverberation echoed through the building for several seconds before fading away. Taking a step back, Ethan looked down at the fifty or so crates that were laid out in front of him in the empty warehouse. With the sleeve of his black coat, he wiped the sweat from his brow.
His gaze went from the boxes to his surroundings. Before his meeting with Vladimir, he had made a trip to the warehouse and brought in twenty long lamp poles. They were now spread throughout the ground floor of the building. Being nearly two in the morning, the streets were deserted.
The lamps were the only illumination in the warehouse. But even with the lamps, the bulk of the warehouse was shrouded in darkness. The storehouse had obviously not been used in years. The decaying cement floor held countless cracks and small potholes. The grey ground could definitely use a good washing along with the removal of the hundreds of dead cockroaches and rats scattered across the floor.
The distinct, heavy odor of decaying dead animals and insects completely consumed the room, but it didn’t bother Ethan too much. After spending so much time in the company of corpses, he hardly noticed the stench anymore. There was an assortment of lines that had been painted onto the ground, but time had faded away most of the paint. Taking a quick moment to judge the dimensions of the rectangular room, he estimated them to be about 100 yards by 200 yards.
A pretty sizable room in his opinion. Big enough for his purpose at least.
To the far right and left were two doorways that each led to a small, empty office space. The nearly thirty-foot high ceiling clearly was infested with mold. When Ethan had driven by this morning, he had seen that the once crimson, tapered roof was now almost completely covered in rust. It appeared that the large columns hadn’t been properly cared for, as some of them seemed on the verge of collapse. Several windows were lined up along the walls facing and behind Ethan, but they had all been boarded up years ago when the building closed down.
Two large doors stood open behind Ethan. On the outside of them were the now faded words “Brown Construction Co.” that had once been painted in bold, brown lettering. Ethan turned around and pushed the heavy doors shut. They let out a screech as they rubbed against the cement floor and it echoed throughout the warehouse. After shutting and locking the entrance, Ethan looked down at the crates once more.
He was surprised that Vladimir had actually kept his end of the bargain. He had gone into the shipyard ready to do the Russian in but was pleased with the turn of events. Best not to get his hands any dirtier that was absolutely necessary.
Chapter 5
Forsaken Graveyard
Under the cloudless sky and the scorching sun, a sixteen-year-old Ethan followed a few steps behind his grandfather. With his hands deep in his cargo short’s pockets, he looked down as he made his way through the parking lot. He already knew how the conversation on the way home would go. This wasn’t the first time that David had been called in to the school for this type of incident.
Ethan’s green t-shirt was drenched in sweat and it wasn’t all because of the heat. He mentally rehearsed David’s coming lecture. It seemed to always go the same way, and never gave him a chance to say his side of the story.
Coming to the back of a golden Cadillac, Ethan hesitantly opened the passenger door before taking a seat and closing the door behind him. For once, he actually wished to be in school. As he put his seatbelt on, David climbed into the vehicle and started the engine before backing the car out of the parking spot. Ethan looked down at his lap, waiting for the lecture to begin. Finally, as the vehicle pulled out, his grandfather spoke. “What was it this time, Ethan? Did he look at you wrong?”
Ethan didn’t reply, not daring to look up at his grandfather.
David’s gaze stayed on the road as he continued; his voice was coated in sarcasm now. “Please, Ethan, do tell me your reason for getting into another fistfight. The whole way here I was looking forward to listening to your latest excuse.” After a pause, the cynicism left David’s voice. “Ethan, at least do me the courtesy to reply when I talk to you.”
Slowly, Ethan looked over at David, whose eyes were still fixed on the road. “The boy I fought…Nick, had pushed someone against a locker and was about to beat him up, so I stepped in.”
David let out a short, contemptuous laugh. “By stepping in, you mean that you nearly beat Nick unconscious.”
Ethan looked away.
“And according to all the other kids there, you knocked him on his back, got on top of him and started beating him senseless, it took four people to pull you off of him.”
Still looking at his lap, Ethan replied, “Well what was I supposed to do? Stand by and do nothing?”
David whipped his head around as his voice rose. “For God’s sake, you’re lucky you didn’t give him brain damage, Ethan! There’s a difference between intervening and putting somebody in the hospital. Even when he was completely defenseless you kept hitting him! This isn’t the first time, Ethan. How many fights have you gotten into since you started at the academy?”
Ethan was silent.
“Yeah, I’ve lost count too.”
Again, there was no response.
“The first few times, the ‘I have no friends and I’m an easy target so it’s all in self-defense’ excuse worked. But I would think that by now most boys in the school would know what happens when they try to fight you. When you came home with that black eye on your first day, I was afraid that you wouldn’t be able to stand up for yourself. Now, I wake up every day hoping that the principal doesn’t call me and tell me that you killed somebody.”
Ethan looked out the window, trying his best to remain silent.
“It’s a miracle that nobody’s pressed charges against you. If I wasn’t good friends with the principal, you would have already been expelled a hundred of times over.”
Ethan’s hand formed a fist as he continued to listen to the endless rant.
“Why can’t you get it through that thick skull of yours that everything you do reflects back on me!? Do you know how much grief this causes me? What will people say about me when they hear that you get into all these fights? Why do you always have to be a lone wolf? At least try to make one friend, Ethan. It’s not that hard. Save me the trouble of having to keep coming up here to clean up your—”
Suddenly, Ethan’s head whipped around to face his grandfather as he yelled, stopping his grandfather’s tireless rant. “Why is always about you, David! Why don’t you ever try to see things from my point of view? Because of you I had to leave everything in Zimba and because of you I’m stuck in this hellhole! I hate this place. Why can’t you see that!?”
Dav
id was silent for several moments as Ethan’s entire body shook violently. He half-expected David to turn and slap him across the face, but his grandfather did no such thing. Finally, the old man spoke. But this time, his voice was calm. “I know you’re frustrated, Ethan. You’ve been trying to create a relationship with your dad and he’s been brushing you off for the past few months. And I know that the only reason you keep trying is for me.”
Ethan looked away and his body slowly stopped its trembling.
“Just give him time. He’s a man and every man has an ego. He’ll come around sooner or later.”
There was a long silence.
“Ethan, I know you hate how your dad’s been treating you. And I know that you miss everything that you left behind in Zimba. But sometimes you’ve just got to accept the cards that life has dealt you, even if they are not the ones you want. You can’t let others dictate how you act. If you do, then you give them the ability to control you.”
Ethan didn’t reply.
David laid his right hand on Ethan’s shoulder, causing him to look up at his grandfather. “I know you miss not being able to see Katrina or talk to her as much as you want. But you have to move on, Ethan. I’m sure she’s moved on and has made a dozen of new friends since you’ve moved away. You can’t keep holding on to her. If it’s meant to be, then it’ll happen. If not, then there’s something better in store for you.”
“I don’t want to forget about her.”
David shook his head and removed his hand from Ethan’s shoulder. “Ethan, I don’t know if you’re old enough to understand this, but I’ll tell you anyways. Katrina is a pretty girl. And yes, she may have like you and you liked her, but I’m sure there are dozens of other boys that like her too. And by you moving away, I can guarantee you that one of them has already gotten her attention. It’s been nearly eighteen months. Do you really think visiting for a couple of weeks every summer is going to change that? You need to learn to move on and stop holding on to her.”
Ethan opened his mouth to speak but he stopped himself and looked away. It was pointless. David would never understand how he felt. Nobody would understand. Ethan instead looked back down at the ground and listened to the sound of the Cadillac’s tires speeding along the freeway.
***
21 days.
It had been three weeks since returning to Crown City and he had finally mustered the courage to come and see this hallowed place for himself.
It felt surreal to be looking at this tombstone—the tombstone that he never imagined he would see. The final resting place of the man who had raised him.
His eyes stayed locked upon the name: David Albert Daniels.
The heavy gust raged as it carried hundreds of loose leaves off the ground and from the trees. Ethan was surrounded by the icy wind that blew the tail end of his coat. His hands shoved into his pockets to protect them from the frosty gale.
The early morning sun peeked through the scattered clouds, shedding light on the enormous field of headstones. Only a handful of trees could be seen from Ethan’s position, but to his right was a massive oak tree that had witnessed hundreds of funerals and burials throughout its lifetime. Many of its leaves had been plucked off by the ruthless wind.
Ethan took a knee and let his hand run across the surface of the tombstone. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there. It may have been seconds. It may have been minutes. But after a suspended moment, he opened his eyes and stood up.
Turning his head to the right, Ethan looked at the neighboring headstone. This one was new, less than three weeks old. Just the sight of it consumed him with rage, an endless grief that no amount of time could ever erase.
He slowly walked towards it, stopping once he reached the polished marker. No matter how hard the wind blew, he kept his eyes fixed on the lettering of this headstone. He had finally given Naira a proper resting place. Even though it had only been a few months, it felt as if a lifetime had passed since she was killed by the cruel hand of fate. Every single day, Ethan blamed himself. If only he had been prepared. Been stronger.
But the hands of time could never be turned back, no matter how much he tried. Taking his right hand out of his pocket, he opened up his closed fist and produced one of Naira’s rainbow bracelets. Crouching down, he held the bracelet out in front of him for several seconds, soaking in the weight of the moment. Finally, he placed it right in front of the tombstone, an inch away from the base. He ran the palm of his hand across the smooth, semicircle top of the headstone before letting it rest there for several moments.
He had thought that creating a resting place for her would ease his hurt. He had thought coming here for this one-man-funeral would make the pain go away. He had thought that time would ease his burden. But nothing could ever take away his grief. He had made a promise. He had sworn it over her dead body and now he had to keep it. Being here now caused a mantra to run through his head, telling him that he would see this through—that his sacrifices would not be in vain. He had come this far already.
The plan was working. Everything was going just as he had envisioned. He only needed to stay the course and not forget his purpose in doing this.
No matter what, he wouldn’t let his grief consume him. No, he’d let his rage and anger take center stage. Ethan clenched his fist as he fought himself, both body and mind. Now was not the time to show any weakness. He quickly wiped his eyes, the strong winds making it difficult to keep them dry.
He hadn’t shed a single tear since the day of her death and he wouldn’t now. He would grieve her passing when her death was avenged, and only then.
Rising back to his feet, he kept his eyes fixed on the tombstone. With a deep breath, Ethan took a step backwards, his gaze unwavering, but soon Ethan felt a familiar presence come behind him. He began to slowly turn his head as a soft hand fell upon his shoulder. His eyes came upon the face he had known since his youth.
Katrina seemed to have grown even more beautiful than when he had seen her in the lobby of her office building. She was wearing a brown trench-coat and a pair of black boots. The thin strap of a small, white purse slung over her left shoulder and a slight smile upon her face.
Ethan mustered up a look of surprise. “…Katrina?”
“I thought I’d find you here.” She looked over at David’s headstone as her smile diminished. “Is this your first time to see it?”
Ethan nodded. “I couldn’t muster the courage to come here until today.” He averted his gaze to the grassy floor, a sense of sorrow in his tone.
Katrina’s gaze fell back onto him. “My grandfather and I were here for the funeral.”
“It would have meant a lot to David to know that.”
“I think he does.” She was silent for a few moments. “My grandfather hasn’t been the same since. He’s much more…sullen I guess.”
“I’m sorry.”
She smiled again. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” There was a brief silence before her smile disappeared. “We went to your funeral too….the whole time I couldn’t believe it was happening.”
“I’m sorry I put you through that. If I could have made it back sooner I would have.”
“I know.” She turned her head to look at where Ethan’s old headstone had been, the place where Naira’s now rested. “Somehow…I always knew you were alive, Ethan. I can’t explain the feeling, but I always knew that one day you would come walking back into my life.” She looked back up at him, the smile reappearing on her pretty face. “And now here you are.”
Ethan reached out and took hold of her soft hand. “Not a day went by where I didn’t think of you, Katrina.”
With his free hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture. His eyes now locked on her face as he handed it to her. Wordlessly, she took it and looked down upon the faded image.
There were several fold lines across the picture, having spent so much time in Ethan’s pocket over the past four years. Katrina held the picture in her hands for several
moments, as she held back the tears that were beginning to form. Finally, she looked up at him, her eyes still showing the disbelief that she felt. “You carried this with you all this time?”
He simply nodded as he let go of her hand. Katrina tried to give the picture back to him, but he pushed it away, still looking at her. “You keep it now, Katrina. I don’t need it anymore.”
She glanced away, trying to hide her blush, as she put the old photograph into her pocket. Katrina looked down at the new headstone. “Who was she, Ethan?”
“She was a good friend. Honestly, Naira was the only real friend I made while I was gone.” Ethan stared at the headstone for a few more moments. “…She was my sister.”
Before Katrina could say anything, Ethan turned around to start making his way to his vehicle, parked on the road on the other side of the hill. Katrina silently followed alongside.
After taking a few steps he looked over at her and spoke as she stared straight ahead.
“Sorry I haven’t been calling you back. I got the message you left a couple of weeks ago but I’ve been a little busy.”
“It’s okay. You’re here with me now.”
The two began to making their way to the top of the hill. “How are the meetings going?”
“Good, I guess,” Katrina replied. “I have today off though.”
“Any big plans?”
“Maira wanted to grab lunch with me, so I think I’ll do that. How about yourself?”
“Cathy and Jonathan invited me for lunch, so I’ll be heading there now.”
Katrina reached out and put her hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “It’s good that you’re starting to build a relationship with them. It’s what David would have wanted.”
He nodded. Ethan wanted to ask her something, but was hesitant to do so. He knew it was wrong. It would only become a distraction, but he couldn’t help himself. After a few seconds he finally looked back at her. “Katrina, would you like to grab dinner Friday night? With me, I mean—just the two of us.”