That was then.
He was not going to allow himself to be so completely, utterly violated without dispensing some justice.
Farrinton slammed a fist against a post, nearly passed out from the pain.
Guess payback would have to wait a bit. Right now he had to put up a good front. Madge and Bella were back from Mars.
His wife rushed over to him as she had after every ride and store visit. “Are you up to this, honey?”
He nodded his chin up once, a gesture that caused him to cringe. “We promised ‘Bella. You see those grades? She’s earned this.”
Madge glanced at the bandages, “But you can hardly move.”
“Bah.”
Really, how does someone get injured like this when he’s just a consultant?”
“I just wasn’t myself this week.” Farrington let one finger rise slowly, painfully, until it touched a brand new Christ-head hanging around his bandaged neck. “But I’m coming around.”
Bella bounded up to them, beside herself. “Can we go to the fireworks at Epcot?”
Madge shook her head. “I think your father’s seen enough fireworks for awhile.”
“Ple-ease?”
Farrington hugged Madge, wincing. “Anything for my Bella.”
His wife whispered so their daughter wouldn’t hear. “Are you sure?”
“One of the few things I am sure of these days.”
She leaned closer to her husband studying him. “What is happening to you, Paul?”
“Suddenly I find myself with lots of questions.”
Madge grew alarmed. “About us?”
“Never,” he smiled, as much as he could. “But about everything else? Yeah. I’m thinking of a career change, a new path, and lots of work to do.”
“Are you up to that?”
Farrington’s eyes blazed with a new fire. “Hon, I don’t have a choice.”
SIXTY-TWO
The funeral, burial, and meal afterwards passed in front of Mallory at an odd distance. He didn’t feel like himself until the family finally returned home. They wandered into the family room, exhausted, silent. Max unclipped his tie, opened the top button of his shirt, and lay down across Mom’s lap on the couch. “I’m gonna miss Pop-Pop.”
Mallory smiled, “Me too, big guy, me too.” Gina ruffled his hair, tears spilling again. Her mascara was long gone.
Kieran, God bless him, remained Kieran. He dug through his Yankee backpack, pulled out a ball, two gloves. Calm as ever, he tossed the bigger one to his Dad. The boy ground the ball into his mitt, feeling the perfect sphere hit home. Those brown eyes, so gorgeously intelligent, looked up as he threw his father some heat.
There was a reassuring “pok.” Mallory brushed the stitches with his fingers. The return throw followed a graceful arc across the room. The kid caught it, his face glowing.
Max laughed, leapt from Mom’s lap, dashed toward Mallory. “Derek Jeter’s running home!”
“I’m Jeter!” Kieran pulled back, fired. The ball screamed passed Max’s outrageously bobbing curls, passed his big laugh, passed Dad’s glove. Mallory whipped around in time to see the ball smash the family portrait.
Everybody tensed, knowing what a fuss Dad always made about that picture. Then a little foot slid between both of Mallory’s.
“Safe!” Max shrieked. Gina laughed first, then Max, then Kieran, then, finally letting it go, letting it all go, Mallory laughed too, loud and long and hard. It seemed such a long time since he’d heard himself make that sound.
Maybe the new frame would hang straight.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHRISTOPHER RYAN spent eight years as an award-winning Bronx crime and politics reporter, winning awards as Best News columnist/NYS Newspaper Association, Journalist of the Year/Children Are Precious, and a DeWitt Clinton Masonic Award for Community Service, among others. Simultaneously he earned honors for playwriting (Bronx Council on the Arts) and screenwriting (a T.W. Wharton Award, and as a top 10 percent, then top 100 Nicholl’s Fellowship finalist). Around this time, he also co-wrote a song with Dennis Bell, leader of the New Voices of Freedom, which the “rockspel” choir recorded as part of the follow-up to their participation in the film U2: Rattle and Hum.
Chris also spent several years as a founding member/head writer for the Salsoul Comedy Troupe, contributing over 30 original sketches, and performing both as a cast member and occasionally as a stand-up comedian. As a vehicle for the troupe, he created an original Latino sitcom “The Rich Life” considered for production by NBC.
He has even written a few comic books (featured in Mythography, Race Against Time, Lost Tales of Erin, and on a strip version of Blackjack), and is awaiting the publication of his four-issue arc “The Three Mooseketeers” for Archie Comics.
Currently, he is also prepping post-production of a micro-indy feature-length comedy, ZOMBIES OF NEW MILFORD, which he wrote, directed and produced as the debut vehicle for the company he and his wife Tina has launched, Seamus an Nunzio Productions, LLC. Writer’s Digest gave the screenplay “honorable mention” in the Television/Movie Script category of their 80th annual Writers’ Competition. Chris is working with Feenix Films, LLC on this project, which is set to debut in the summer of 2012. Previous work with Feenix Films includes a cameo in Nicky Newark, and co-writing, producing and acting in Lock-Load-Love. Next up is a political horror short, SIMPLE REBELLION.
Chris teaches at Hackensack High School, and has been named to Who’s Who in American Education. He earned an MA and Rutgers University’s English Award for Highest Distinction in Literary Studies for his master’s “thesis” — his first novel, CITY OF WOE (which you hopefully just enjoyed), featuring detectives Mallory and Gunner, who made their debut in the Nov/Dec 2007 issue of Crime and Suspense Magazine. Another Mallory and Gunner tale, “Seven Days”, has been accepted for publication in the venerable indy magazine Hardboiled. He was honored twice before by Writer’s Digest for an inspirational police story featuring the Mallory character, “Old Friends Long Apart” as well as a tongue-in cheek horror short “New Dad”.
Chris lives in New Jersey with his wife and twin sons.
“Our Founders”
SEAMUS AND NUNZIO
PRODUCTIONS, LLC
City of Woe Page 26