by Brad Cooper
“Do you plan on moving today? I’ve got a few things to do this weekend and I’d like to know that I won’t still be here waiting on you to do something,” Clark said, attempting to rush Adam into a move that would present a chink in the armor, tapping his watch throughout the dialogue.
“Keep talking. You don’t have any plans this weekend so just pipe down,” Adam said without looking up.
“Not true. Eating and watching the Braves games qualifies as having plans.”
Adam moved a pawn two spaces ahead from its starting position. “Happy?”
“That’s it? You sat there for two minutes for that? It’ll take an hour for you to make a move that requires thought,” Clark said, his tone sardonic.
“Less talk, more play, Ryan.”
“I swear sometimes I…”
“You what?”
“Just play the game, boys,” Kara said with a roll of her eyes.
“Sorry, Mom,” Ryan said.
“Excuse me?” Kara replied with a curl of one of her eyebrows.
“And what do you think is so funny?” Adam asked after hearing Lisa’s muttered laughing. He grinned as he finished the question.
“It was so much simpler when I just played against the computer,” Clark said. “It doesn’t talk back.” Concentration was getting more and more difficult. Clark moved his bishop diagonally several spaces, placing Adam’s king in check.
Kara and Lisa both directed their attention elsewhere. Neither possessed an understanding of the game and chess was not exactly a spectator sport. Lisa excused herself and returned a moment later with her VHS-C camcorder. With the advent of affordable digital photography, many had taken on photography as a hobby but not Lisa Taylor. Videos capture memories in motion, she would say to those who inquired about her frequent use of a camcorder. She’d considered purchasing a newer model, one that recorded straight to DVD rather than a videocassette, but she’d yet to make the leap.
For Lisa, producing videos was not a hobby. It was about archiving memories in full color and motion. Despite the best efforts to the contrary, one’s memory fades over the years but a video record of the event could be saved, treasured, and preserved, bringing back to life the images and voices of the past, if only for a moment. When revisited the images can also trigger memories stored in one’s brain once thought to be forgotten. Some videos would be considered insignificant by others, but to Lisa each video had special meaning. In her home, a bookcase housed hundreds of the small video cassettes, filled with countless hours of memories made with friends and relatives of all ages. She had no aspirations of becoming an award winning actress or director. Her motivation was purely intrinsic.
Lisa powered on the camera and began filming the tension-filled chess match in which Ryan and Adam had been entrenched for nearly an hour. Both men ignored the camera at first, even as Lisa asked them to look up from the board long enough to have their image immortalized on her video tape. From there she zeroed in on Kara, who now sat in a plastic lawn chair on the edge of the porch, her legs resting on the nearby table, reading a newly purchased hardcover novel. Kara glanced up from her book long enough to offer a smile and a subtle wave, something Ryan took time to notice before making his next move.
Smiling and looking at the board, Ryan said, “Why do people always wave at those things? It’s like they’re expecting a response. I’ve never seen one wave back.”
“Sure, you say that stuff where she can’t hear you. Why don’t you speak up? It’s funny when she sticks you after your little one-liners.”
“Funny for you, maybe. She hits harder than you think.”
“You guys talking about me?” Kara asked.
“No, Miss Narcissist, we’re not. Not everything is about you, you know.” He waited for the punch to the shoulder.
Kara sneered in return before looking back to her book. Lisa was recording every second of the festivities, both the lively and the mundane, for posterity. The only drawback of her video masterpieces was the periodic sound of her own laughter but her productions were not intended to be professional efforts.
Lisa turned off the power on the camcorder, only having twenty minutes of video left on her last cassette, and sat down beside Kara, who was growing tired of reading and was in need of conversation. Meanwhile, Clark moved his queen to the right three spaces, placing Adam’s king in check once again. With the two women outside of earshot, Ryan and Adam could speak freely on a subject for which Adam needed a sounding board.
“So, what’s the deal with you and Lisa? Serious yet? Still just having fun? Don’t know yet? By the way… check.”
“I don’t know. I think she wants something serious, and I think I would, too, but…”
“But? Oh, don’t tell me…”
“I still don’t think I’m completely over Jenna,” Adam said, staring into space.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Clark said, incredulous and now staring upward himself.
“No, I’m serious.”
“I know you’re serious. That’s the problem. I saw it coming a mile away. Over her or what she did to you? Look, just take it slow, and whatever you do, don’t bring her up to Lisa. And remember why it ended in the first place. I can’t believe she actually used the excuse that she was in a different area code so it didn’t really count. You should have mopped the floor with that idiot pink polo wearing frat boy, too.”
The solitude of the evening, for the second week in a row, was broken by the sound of an approaching and descending helicopter.
“What’s up with all these choppers flying around, man? Can’t we sit out here anymore without it turning into the opening credits from M*A*S*H?” Clark asked.
“It looks like the same one from last week, like it matters. Anyway…”
Clark and Adam continued their discussion, while Kara and Lisa had their own.
“Someone heat up the grill! I gotta eat soon. You know how I get when I don’t eat for a while,” Adam said.
“I know how you get but I don’t know what word would truly encapsulate the attitude,” Ryan said.
“Hey, what did y’all think about that kid overdosing on coke? Saw the story in the paper today,” Lisa inquired from across the deck.
“I don’t get it. It’s not worth throwing your life away to get high on coke. How’s a kid that age get the money to buy enough of it to O.D.? When I was seventeen I couldn’t afford anything like that.”
“Adam, we can’t afford anything like that now. I’m just glad we don’t have to pay rent. That was the Wyatt kid right?”
“Yeah, Thomas, I think.”
“I never expected that from someone like him. Maybe from one of the idiots that doesn’t have many brain cells to kill in the first place. I mean his parents do pretty well. He had a nice life going for him, pretty smart from what I hear, and then this? They said it was cardiac arrest that did it. His heart just stopped.” Kara’s face reflected the pain and sadness when she thought about it.
“Stupid,” Adam scoffed, shaking his head.
“No kidding. Senseless, too.”
The helicopter hovered momentarily before slowly setting down in its predetermined spot. The blue sky of the day had been replaced by the burnt orange and dark purple of sunset but little of it was visible to those on the ground at the moment due to the dust cloud produced by the swirling blades. The arrival was just in time. The nighttime darkness was a mere twenty minutes away and would have presented an additional complication to the landing. The chopper sat down just as the Tochigis arrived. Chief Sparks, Frank Amick, and Carl Lilly had been on site for more than an hour, waiting and doing what they felt necessary to ensure a smooth operation. They did so minus the presence of Ray Kessler, whose time was being spent in the station with Kevin Robbins, performing menial tasks meant only to delay his arrival.
Yoshiro Sato’s head of security was the first to exit the aircraft, just as he had been the week prior. His name was Akira, a traditional name meaning “intelli
gence”, yet his intelligence was not the first quality that was readily apparent. Intimidation had that honor. His primary purpose was security and protection but anyone considering an attack was discouraged in a matter of seconds with one long glare from the man known simply as Akira, devoid of a surname.
Sato stepped from the helicopter and straightened his slender black tie before greeting the Tochigis with a bow. The officers were confused and reticent, unsure if they should bow, offer a handshake, or even say hello. The culture of their visitors was entirely foreign and any attempt to relate would appear awkward at best. The Far East and the Bible Belt rarely interacted.
All three remained motionless in their positions, their arms either folded or resting at their sides, scanning the area with their eyes while knowing the likelihood of any type of problem was next to nil. No one other than those present, save Kessler, knew anything of the delivery. Everyone involved was fully engaged without reservation, except for Kessler who had shown some reluctance initially but came around quickly. An opportunity such as this was too good to relinquish.
Sato and the Tochigis exchanged small talk in their native language as the officers observed in silence. Yoshiro spoke in a commanding tone to Hotaka, gesturing toward the Tochigi restaurant, above which the Tochigi family resided, and made his way toward the building across the street.
“Excuse us, gentlemen. Yoshiro, my wife, and I must speak privately. Please remain here. We will return shortly,” Hotaka said to the chief of police.
“You got it, Mr. Tochigi. We’ll be right here. Let us know if you need anything.”
Sato, the Tochigis, and Akira crossed Main Street and entered the building as Kessler exited the station and walked to the officers’ area beside the chopper. Kevin Robbins was out the door seconds later, wasting no time in driving away on his way home, another eight hour shift completed. His keys were out of his pocket before he reached the car.
“What’s going on, guys? I miss anything?” Kessler asked, both eager and anxious.
“Nothin’ yet, Ray. Just hang in. We’ll get you introduced to our friends here since they ain’t seen you yet”. Sparks rarely included the g in words ending in –ing, typical of the Southern dialect so prominent in the region.
Kessler stood with his hands in his pockets. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Chief,” he said timidly. “I—
“Whatever it is can wait, Ray.”
“No, it can’t wait. I really…”
Sparks’ patience had worn thin. “Ray… not now,” he snapped back with an angry glare.
“I’m sorry, guys, but I need to go,” Lisa said through a long yawn.
“Go? You mean home or are you staying…”
“No, I’m heading home. I’m just really tired tonight for some reason. Will you drive me, Adam?”
After a quick goodbye to Ryan and Kara, Lisa was inside Adam’s 4-Runner, which had been old for ten years. The distance between the two houses was only a mile, ten or fifteen minutes on foot, but Adam never permitted Lisa to make the walk home alone. Her safety was paramount and the drive was a pleasure, not an inconvenience. The gasoline burned by the drive could be paid for with change found between the cushions in the couch.
After a rainstorm during the day, the night was surprisingly clear and still; no rain, no haze, and no clouds. Even the wind was uncharacteristically still, albeit unnecessary in the mild sixty-four degree nighttime. The entire evening had been full of conversation but the short ride to Lisa’s home was silent. The passenger-side window was down, which allowed the wind to blow through Lisa’s loosely curled blonde hair and flash signs of the auburn roots. When completely straightened it was as long as Kara’s but she knew Adam’s preference.
Adam’s attention was focused solely on the road ahead but Lisa’s wandered toward the man sitting just across the armrest from her. Their relationship, whether or not it could be called serious at this point, was only three months old but she already had feelings for him much stronger than she ever would have anticipated in such a short time. She knew that his last relationship had not ended amicably but patience was her most viable option for the time being. This should be something long-term, she often thought, and she was prepared to put forth every effort to see it through.
Adam parked his truck in front of Lisa’s house, a small five-room home with less square footage than some high-rent apartments in metropolitan areas, and walked her to the door as had been his custom with every woman he’d ever dated. The house faced Cayton Lane, an all-gravel side road named after the first resident to ever build a home there, which was a dead end after only five hundred feet, and the backyard consisted of only a few feet before beginning to slope toward the creek which ran through everyone’s backyard on her street. Across from the creek, at one of its narrowest points, was the Spring Creek Police Department headquarters. It didn’t provide any excitement directly but it comforted Lisa’s parents to know that help was a literal stone’s throw away from her rented home should any trouble arise.
“Adam, you don’t have to walk me to the door every time you drop me off. I think I can manage.” Lisa smiled as she spoke. Her eyes were half-closed with fatigue.
“Hey, it’s just what I do. It’s no fun to kiss you goodnight in the car, you know.”
“I know. It’s better up here. You want to come in for a few minutes or…” she asked hopefully.
“No, I better get back to the house and get some sleep. Long day tomorrow and all.”
“Okay then, I’ll call you tomorrow or something.”
“You better. Goodnight, beautiful,” Adam said, leaning forward and meeting Lisa halfway for a goodnight kiss, the universal sign for the end of an evening.
“Almost eleven o’clock. Where’d those idiots run off to?” Sparks muttered aloud to himself, looking at his watch at intervals that grew increasingly more frequent. Ninety minutes had passed since Sato and the Tochigis made their way into the building and out of sight but nothing had been heard since. No sign of trouble, no hint of a time of return, nothing. Just more incessant waiting for those providing their security. “They best be inside counting my money,” he said under his breath.
“Our money,” Amick added, walking up beside Sparks with Carl Lilly in tow.
“Oh, right.”
Kessler approached Sparks and said, “Look, can we talk now or what? I really don’t feel like standing out here much longer. I got stuff to do.”
Sparks closed his eyes and shook his head. “Fine, Ray. Whatever it is, just say it already.”
“I want to do it in private, without everybody else around. It ain’t really none of their business.”
“Criminy,” Sparks mumbled. “Fine, let’s go over here. Guys,” he said turning toward Amick and Lilly, “we’ll be over here a minute. Just hang tight.”
“Thanks, boss.”
They walked to the side of the building, around the corner from the others. “Now what’s this all about that’s so important? This can’t wait ‘til tomorrow?” Sparks asked.
Kessler stared at the ground, anxiously shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I can’t do this, Darrell. I thought I could but I can’t.”
“What do you mean you ‘can’t’? Can’t? You can and you will!” Sparks said, his voice muffled but the tone biting.
“I’m not doing this, Darrell. A seventeen-year-old kid died today, for God’s sake,” Kessler emphasized in a strong whisper. “That same trash we’re bringing in here killed him and for what? Money? This kid is dead and after one shipment. One! What’ll happen when more and more keeps coming? I can’t deal with it. I can’t get involved. I’m out,” Kessler said, starting to walk away.
Sparks grabbed Kessler’s arm before he could move more than two steps away and turned him around. “You listen to me, son. You are involved. Whether you like it or not, you’re already involved. The minute you stuck you nose in it and started asking questions about things that were none of your business, you involved
yourself.”
Before Kessler could respond, the chief continued, speaking through gritted teeth. “You’re in it waist deep. We told you about what we was doing here, we got you here tonight, and now, after all that, you’re telling me you want out? There is no ‘out’, Ray. That’s not an option, so whatever it is that you need to tell yourself to get you through it, just do it. Write it down and tape it on your mirror to remind yourself if you have to. Suck it up because this is gonna be around a while and so are you.”
“No! I won’t do that, Darrell. I’m not waiting on more kids to die for all this stuff. It ain’t worth it and I don’t know how you can convince yourself that it is! These are people’s lives we’re playing with here and not just people we don’t know. People you’ve known a long time and their families. No… I…” He started to walk away but Sparks grabbed him and stepped in front of him.
“Listen to me, Ray. There are things going on that you just don’t know about. Like it or not, this is bigger than you. Hell, it’s bigger than me. We ain’t bringing this stuff here and we’re not selling it. We’re just making sure things go alright when it comes in. That’s all. We get our cut and everyone’s happy.”
“Everyone? I’m not happy, Darrell! I’m not and I’m not gonna be. That kid’s family won’t be either. The money won’t make me happy with it. It’s dirty! That money is filthy. You keep this up and that kid’s blood is on your hands and so’ll the blood of every other person that this stuff kills!” Kessler said, raising his voice with each sentence. “I didn’t sign up for this and I want no part of it!”
Sparks again spoke softly in an effort to calm Kessler to the point of not drawing the attention of the nearby officers. He jabbed his finger in Kessler’s face and said, “You need to watch yourself, boy. You’re on thin ice here.”
“I don’t care where I am! I don’t need this,” Kessler said, flustered and pointing back. “The hell with this and to hell with you! All of you!”
“Everything okay over here, Chief?” Lilly asked as he approached with Amick only a few steps behind.