by Thomas Scott
“What about Monroe?” Pate asked. “At least tell me you’ve got her in line.”
“Of course she’s in line. Abby does what I tell her.”
“Your use of Ms. Monroe’s given name in the abbreviate suggests a certain level of familiarity that might extend itself beyond the normal boundaries of a working relationship. Is there something I should know, Bradley?”
“Gee, that’s a lot of fancy words, Gus. I’m having a little trouble keeping up. If you’re asking me if I’m romantically involved with her, I can honestly say, no, I am not.”
“Good. See that it stays that way. What the fuck is going on with this Pope kid? Was that your doing?”
“I wasn’t anywhere near that. The police are just as clueless.”
“Good. Do whatever you have to do to make sure it stays that way. We don’t need any more complications.” Pate pressed a button on the center console next to his seat. When he did, the limo pulled to a stop and the doors unlocked automatically. “I’ll be in touch, Bradley. Be sure to contact me immediately if anything else arises. And if I were you, I’d distance myself from Jones.”
“As I indicated, I already have. But let me give you a bit of advice, Gus. You’re not the first guy to come along and try to take him out. If you’re not careful, you won’t be the last.”
Pate had already lost interest in Pearson’s words of warning, his gaze directed at nothing outside the limo’s tinted window. When he didn’t respond, Pearson got out and walked away.
Hector stared at his boss until he was sure he had his attention. “He is going to become a liability.”
Pate didn’t answer. He pushed another button on the center console and the limo pulled out into traffic.
13
__________
Late in the afternoon Murton showed up at the bar and Virgil poured two cups of Blue Mountain coffee and carried them over to the same table where they’d been sitting before. “If we keep sitting at the same table all the time we’re going to end up looking like a couple of goombahs or something.”
Murton ignored his attempt at levity. “I shouldn’t have said what I did the other day. Any of it. I’m sorry.”
“Ah, me too. Forget about it.” They were both quiet for a beat before Virgil went on. “Look Murt, you had a rough go of it for a while a long time ago. You might have drawn a shitty hand, but I’ve never seen anyone walk away from the table with their head held higher. I’m proud of you, brother.”
Murton chewed at his bottom lip before he spoke. “I don’t really remember my parents. Isn’t that something? It’s almost like I don’t have any memories before that summer. Boy, I’ll tell you, after I busted that window at your house I thought your old man was going to take me to the woodshed. Instead, he and your mom gave me my life back. The way they took me in? The way they raised me like I was their own? Who does that? It was foreign to me. In many ways it still is. I guess that’s why I sort of freaked out there for a second. They gave me more than I ever deserved and now, even though they’re both gone, the only real parents I ever had, they’re still giving to me.”
“They loved you, Murt. You were every bit as much their boy as I was.”
Murton grinned, then shook his head.
“What are you thinking?” Virgil asked.
“I’m thinking it is a pretty nice house. Say, will you help me move?”
“Hmm. I can’t.”
“Well why the hell not? Isn’t that what friends do for each other?”
“Yeah. But the doctor told me no strenuous activity for another two weeks, so…”
__________
Virgil took the pill bottle from his pocket and downed another dose of Oxycontin. After he swallowed the pills, even after he felt the euphoric rush of the chemical bombardment, he had to admit that his father—or the part of his brain that manifested his apparition—was right. He was hitting the pills too damn hard. But he also felt like he was past the point of no return. He simply didn’t know if he could stop. He didn’t even know if he wanted to try. And if he did, could he do it? It was a question he was not prepared to answer in the moment. As it turned out, someone else answered for him, just not in the way he expected.
During the course of the rest of the evening Virgil noticed that his partners seemed to take some sort of pity on him. Robert brought him a plate of food, Murton worked doubly hard behind the bar, Delroy seemed to sing just a bit louder along with whatever song was playing on the jukebox and all in all, with the exception of Sandy not being present, Virgil found himself having a good time.
But things have a way of coming around as his grandfather used to say and when they came around for Virgil, he wondered at the state of his being, the people he loved and the events of his life that had yet to take place. He could feel a dull throb deep inside his leg and just as he reached into his pocket to retrieve his pain pills, Delroy walked over and stood next to his chair.
“Hey, Delroy. What’s happening?” Virgil said.
“Ha. Plenty. Too bad you’re not noticing.”
“Pardon?”
He pulled out a chair and sat down. “What you tink you know about Jamaican people, you?”
“I’m not sure I understand the question, Delroy.” Virgil began to twist the top from the bottle of pain pills when Delroy’s hand clamped down around his wrist.
“Your leg? It hurts, no?”
“Yeah, it does. Plus, it’s time for the medicine anyway. If I get behind…”
He waved Virgil’s words away like a fly that hovered over a bowl of soup. “Yeah, yeah. Delroy heard it all before, mon. Mostly from you. You get behind on da medicine and it start to eat you up. You tell Delroy this one ting: What I ever ask of you before?”
The look on his face was one Virgil had never seen. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking me, Delroy.”
“Don’t you insult me, you. You tink when I walk into our bar and everyone shouts, ‘Yeah Mon!’ you tink I don’t know what dat is? It respect, mon, plain and simple. How many conversations have we ever had about your grandfather, you and me? Delroy know somewhere deep down you tink in some way he live inside me. I tell you someting else, mon…maybe he do, but it not for me to say. If he do though, it up to you to honor and respect what come your way. Now, you tell me I’m wrong.”
Virgil looked at the bottle of pills in his hand and then did something he thought himself not capable of ever doing. He tried to hand Delroy the bottle of pills. But Delroy sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Those pills, day don’t belong to me, mon. Problem is, day don’t belong to you, either.”
“So what should I do?”
Delroy laughed. “Come on. Let’s take a little ride, you and me.”
“Where?”
“Don’t you worry about it, mon. I introduce you to someone. You tank me later.”
__________
Virgil let Delroy drive, and if asked, would have admitted it might not have been one of his better decisions. They left the city and took the loop north, which took them about an hour out of the way, though Virgil didn’t know it at the time. Jamaicans were odd drivers. They use the horn as much as the gas and the brake pedals and to sit in the passenger seat of a vehicle driven around the city of Indianapolis by someone from a small island nation is somewhat akin to taking a flight in a hot air balloon with a student pilot. In other words, things will probably be all right, but in the end, you never really know. An hour later they finally turned into Virgil’s driveway and parked the car. Delroy looked over at him and said, “Whew. Dat’s some traffic, no?”
Virgil swallowed instead of answering. They got out of the car and walked up toward the front porch, but instead of going inside Delroy pulled Virgil by his arm and led him around to the back of the house. When they turned the corner what Virgil saw made his heart skip. Tiki torches had been erected around the perimeter of the pond, their flames reflecting across the water. Sandy stood next to the willow tree dressed in a lon
g white gown that flowed with the evening breeze. Murton and Robert were there as well. Robert walked over and placed his hand on Virgil’s chest before he spoke. “It time to come home now, mon.”
Sandy came from under the willow tree and kissed Virgil hard on the mouth and didn’t say anything. Murton put his arm around Virgil’s shoulders and said, “Welcome home, brother.”
Everyone in Virgil’s life was there at that moment. When he looked at the willow tree, he saw his father. His arms were crossed over his chest, his head tilted to one side, the look on his face an odd combination of sorrow and hopefulness. For a moment Virgil felt so dizzy and lightheaded he thought he might pass out. It was deathly quiet for an indeterminate amount of time before anyone spoke again. When someone finally did, it was Delroy.
“You hear me now…there is nothing wrong with your leg. The doctor say it healed and he right. It not your leg that hurts, mon. It your heart. They don’t make no pill for dat, no. What you do right now, right this very moment, Virgil Jones, it define the rest of your life.” Then he swept his arms wide and said, “Maybe ours too. So, what you do, you?”
__________
Virgil looked at Sandy and walked toward her, but he was so heavily focused on the vision of his father under the tree that he almost walked right past her. She held out her hand and stopped him.
“He’s here, isn’t he? Your dad.”
“Yeah, he is.”
“I believe you, Virgil, I do. But the rest of us? We’re here for you too. We love you and we’re not ready to let you go. You’re killing yourself with those pills, baby. Do you hear me? You are literally killing yourself. You don’t need them anymore. What Delroy just said? He’s right. You’re leg is healed, Virgil. It’s your heart that’s broken.”
Virgil opened his mouth to say something…he wasn’t sure what, but closed it again before he said anything that might cause more hurt or damage to the woman he loved and the three men who stood by her side. Then something odd and beautiful happened. Robert walked away from the rest of the group and over toward the pond, removing his shirt as he did. His brown skin was taut with muscle, his shoulders almost twice as wide as his waist. He dropped his shirt in the grass and waded hip deep into the pond. He cupped the water in his hands then raised them above his head and let the water trickle down each arm. As he did, he began to chant something, his Jamaican accent so thick and strong Virgil could not make out his words.
Delroy looked at Virgil and said, “He pray for you.”
Murton stepped up close and cupped his hand on the back of Virgil’s neck. “I’ll do anything in the world for you, brother, except continue to look the other way.” Then, as if he hadn’t made his point, or perhaps to make sure he had Virgil’s full attention he added, “Stop jerking me around. You’re the only family I’ve got left.” He sounded pissed. Then he walked over and picked up Robert’s shirt and held it open for him as he came out of the water.
When Virgil turned back to Sandy it was clear to him how much damage he’d managed to inflict on the people he loved the most. “I’m afraid if I stop, I’ll never see him again. He died for me.”
“He died for us, Virgil. You remember what he did just before he passed? The way he put your hand on top of mine? The way he looked at me until he was gone? You said something to me the day we planted this tree. You said he was telling you he loved you…that he didn’t say those exact words, but that was what he meant. I’m telling you, baby, in that moment behind the bar, when he put your hand on top of mine and looked at me until he passed, he was telling me that he trusted me to take care of his boy. So that’s what I’m doing. That’s what we’re all doing.”
“What if I stop and I don’t ever see him again?”
“Then he was never really there, was he?” Sandy took his hand and led Virgil away from the weeping willow and closer to the edge of the pond. When Virgil looked back over his shoulder, he could still see his dad under the tree, but Mason seemed focused on someone else. It was then that Virgil reached into his pocket and grabbed the bottle of pills. He twisted the lid open, poured them out in his hand and threw them into the water. When he did, two things happened almost simultaneously.
Murton laughed and said, “Wow, those are going to be some fucked up fish for a while.”
Robert moved away from the water and over to Virgil’s side. His shirt was damp, his pants clung to his legs and his shoes made little squishing noises when he walked. “Maybe you lend me some clothes?”
“You bet,” Virgil said.
But it was what he said next that caused Virgil’s throat to constrict and his heart to skip a beat. “Your father…he look happy. Everyting gonna be irie, mon. You wait. You see.”
__________
They all walked up to the house and when they got inside, Virgil wasn’t too surprised to see his old family physician, Dr. Bell, waiting in the kitchen. He was dressed casually, his black bag in one hand, a glass of water in the other. “You’ve been better, I understand?” he asked.
Virgil looked at Sandy, Murton, Delroy and Robert. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that. How’d they get you here?”
Dr. Bell began pulling supplies out of his bag. ‘Ah, I bought a Porsche earlier this year…”
__________
“So…a little trouble with the pedals?” Virgil said.
Bell chuckled. Just the one in the middle. Can’t seem to get to it quick enough when the radar detector goes off. Sandy and I made a little deal.”
“Do I want to know?”
“Let me just say it wasn’t the deal I would have liked.”
Sandy said, “Bell!”
He laughed and then looked at Virgil. “Sandy has agreed to take care of the next ticket, that’s all.” He pulled out a chair and sat down and as he did, the smile left his face. “Come on and sit down. Let me have a listen.” He took Virgil’s pulse, blood pressure, listened to his heart and lungs, checked his reflexes, looked inside his ears, nose and throat and generally gave him a complete physical. When he finished the exam, he started on the questions. How long had he been on the narcotics? What dosage? Had he been taking any extra? Did he really want to stop? And on and on...
__________
“Any more pain meds in the house?” he asked.
Virgil hesitated, but in the end he told the truth. “Top shelf of the kitchen pantry, behind the noodles.”
Murton shook his head, reached into the counter and rooted around until he found the bottle. “At least you’re finally using your noodle,” he said.
Doctor Bell looked at the bottle and then put it in his pocket. “Don’t throw any more pills of any kind in the pond. Your fish will be all fucked up.” He pulled three vials of drugs from his bag, lined them up on the table and then began to fit needles on the ends of three syringes that looked big enough to put down a horse with a broken leg. “I have to tell you, Virgil, you appear healthy enough.”
“Healthy enough for what?” Virgil said as he looked at the syringes on the table.
“There are two ways to deal with this kind of thing,” Bell said. “Three if you’re one of those twelve-steppers.”
“I don’t need a twelve-step program,” Virgil said.
“All right then. Two ways. First, you wean yourself from the medication little by little over the course of a month or two, gradually reducing your dosage and frequency until you’re off the meds completely. Quite a lot of people have had success with that particular method, though I’d be the first to admit, it often doesn’t work. It’s too easy to cheat.
Virgil looked at Sandy who was already shaking her head. Bell noticed too. “All right then, the other is what we are going to do here, starting right now, tonight.”
“Which is what, exactly?” asked Murton.
“We are going to bring him off all at once. I believe you are healthy enough and still young enough that you can handle it, Virgil. But I have to emphasize, it is a strain on your system. Your heart most of all.”
&nb
sp; “My heart is fine,” Virgil said.
Delroy huffed a little. Bell didn’t notice, or if he did, he didn’t let on. “There are three things I want to give you. The first is a massive dose of vitamins. The second is a non-narcotic anti-anxiety medication that will help take the edge off.”
“And the third?”
“The third is the one you’ll thank me for,” Bell said. “It’ll knock you out cold as soon as I give you the shot. It’s similar to Jackson juice, but safer. You’ll sleep for at least the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours, which should get you through the worst of the withdrawal and anxiety. But make no mistake, you’re in for a rough couple of days.”
Virgil looked at Sandy. “I can do it.”
“I know you can, baby.”
Bell seemed to take note of everyone in the room for the first time. He looked at Delroy and Robert. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure, gentlemen. I’m Doctor Robert Bell.”
Robert sort of sniffed. “Good name, you.”
Delroy just smiled.
__________
Sandy, Bell, and Virgil, left Murton, Delroy, and Robert in the kitchen. They went into the bedroom and Bell pulled some paperwork from his bag and attached it to a clipboard. “I’d like to go ahead and give you the vitamin and anti-anxiety shots now. Do I have your permission to do that?”