I follow the echo of Tum Tum’s voice and ride further inside the building. It’s not long until I finally see him. Tum Tum has made a make-shift ramp from a large discarded piece of broken wood and two large white barrels. Tum Tum speeds up to the ramp and soars high into the air until he lands and disappears further into the dark expanse of this huge open space.
From somewhere deep in the darkness, I hear Tum Tum say, “I bet you can’t leap as far as me.”
I should know better than to get caught up in his silly challenges, but I go for it. I pedal fast up to the ramp and fly high into the sky. As I land, I see a hand reach out from the shadows with a long rod and catch my bike’s front wheel. I flip over the handlebars head-first and tumble hard, rolling end-over-end along the ground. I don’t know how long I lay there. I’m not sure if anything is broken. I can feel the skin burning on my hands and knees. They are scraped really bad. I’m too weak to look down, but I can feel blood gliding down my elbows, my shoulder, and my knees. Suddenly, I feel two hands lift me roughly up onto my feet. Then there’s a swift punch to my stomach. I double over and I fall back to the ground. Then I hear a voice. Not a kid’s voice, but one that is as deep and hard as that of a grown man. “Sit him up.”
“Oh, oh, oh... OK.” That voice I know. It’s Tum Tum.
Everything is blurry. Tum Tum props me up. I am able to make him out as he leans over and gives me quick look-over. Tum Tum glances towards a dark shadow. I follow his nervous eyes, and soon I hear steps approaching from the dark space. Appearing out of the black hole is someone I have never seen before. My eyes struggle to bring into focus a scrawny-looking teenager, who is wearing a dark blue, long-sleeved T-shirt that’s about three sizes too big for him, and a pair of sagging jeans. At first glance, he doesn’t look like someone to fear. But then he leans closer and brings his face close to mine. He looks me up and down with vacant black eyes. And then there’s that scar that runs deep and jagged across his right cheek. It’s Tum Tum’s brother, Scarface. “Give it to me,” he says.
I might be a bit dazed and a little out of it, but I know what he wants. Tum Tum told him about the anklet. They’re convinced that it’s worth a lot of money. But I’m not giving it to them. I act like I don’t understand what he’s asking me. I give a blank look and say, “Huh?”
“That jewelry with the diamonds,” says Tum Tum, kind of scared. “My brother wants it.”
I’m still feeling a little groggy, but I manage to tell him, “I don’t...”
Before I can finish answering, Scarface slaps me hard.
Scarface then asks, “Do you know me?”
“Yes, I know you.”
“Do you fear me?”
I know the answer he wants to hear. He won’t get it out of me. “I don’t fear you. I don’t fear nobody.”
Scarface slaps me again, right upside my ear. It rings badly, but I manage to hear him say, “Tough talk from a mama’s boy. Tum Tum has told me about you. Your mama ain’t here to save you.”
“Yo, kid, just give it to him.”
“I’m telling you, I don’t have it.”
Scarface orders Tum Tum to steady me on my feet. He hits me in my stomach. I feel the wind get knocked out of me. It feels like I’m going to die. I don’t put up any fight as he begins rifling through my pockets. He goes into my left and right pockets and pulls out nothing but some crusty pieces of old napkins rolled up into little small balls.
“Where is it?!!?”
Scarface raises his hand and is about to hit me again. But I don’t make it so easy. Before his fist comes down on me, I wiggle free. I start to run, but I stumble and fall. Tum Tum grabs hold of me from behind again. He reaches for my back pocket and yanks out the small candy box. Scarface looks at the box with disgust. Scarface takes the candy box he’s holding and throws it at me. It hits me in the eye and falls to the ground. The anklet falls out.
Tum Tum can’t believe it. “Oh, shit!”
Scarface walks over to the anklet and kneels down to pick it up. He remains kneeling while he studies the diamonds closely. He doesn’t bother reading the words inscribed on the anklet. Scarface looks up at me. “Son of a bitch, you had it all the time. I guess you did mean it when you said you didn’t fear me. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have lied.”
Scarface picks up the steel rod lying on the ground. Tum Tum still has a hold of me, but his voice begins to quiver when he asks, “Wha... What are you doing?”
“I’m going to make this mama’s boy fear me.”
Scarface slowly walks up to me with the rod firmly in his hand. He expects me to cry and beg. He expects me to give up. OK. OK, Scarface, you want it. Come closer. Then out of the blue, I spit in his face and directly into his eye.
My defiance has blinded him. And for a brief second, Scarface lowers the rod. “You will learn to respect me, little boy.”
Scarface raises the rod and is about to bring it down on my head, when a voice calls out calmly from somewhere deep in the shadows. “I don’t think so.”
Fox steps from the darkness and into a strand of light that slips in through a small opening in the wall. He asks, “Is there a problem?”
Scarface tries to show he’s not afraid of Fox. But I can see a slight tremble in his hand, as he tries to steady his grip of the rod. He has yet to lower it. “This doesn’t concern you, Fox.”
“I’m making it my concern.” Fox lifts up his shirt, revealing a gun tucked away in his waistband. “So, I’ll ask again: is there a problem?”
Scarface doesn’t lower the steel rod. Fox calmly places his hand on his pistol. He doesn’t even draw it. Fox tells Scarface, “If anybody knows about fear, it’s you. Don’t be stupid. You know I’ll take you out and think nothing of it.”
Scarface locks eyes with me. He finally lowers the steel rod and tosses it away. Fox looks over at Tum Tum. He doesn’t say anything. Tum Tum loosens his grip and I fall to my hands and knees. Then I hear Fox say, “Give it back.”
I look up at Scarface, and his eyes are narrow as he glares at me. He slowly releases the anklet and lets it fall by my hand.
Then Fox says, “Good.”
Scarface says nothing. He looks over to Tum Tum. “Let’s get out of here.”
Tum Tum let’s go of me, and I drop to the cold concrete. I hear Tum Tum’s and Scarface’s footsteps as they walk away. They are soon replaced by Fox’s steps, as he walks towards me. Fox kneels beside me and picks up the anklet. Fox looks at the diamonds. Then he plays with it in his hand and takes the time to read the inscribed words. Fox hands it back to me. Then, suddenly, he just picks me up, slings me over his shoulder, and carries me out of this dark pit.
CHAPTER
FORTY-EIGHT
A light rain falls after a passing storm. A mother weeps for her lost child.
Fox carries the Boy in the hollow of one arm. Fox totes the Boy’s bike with his other hand. Hannah sprints over to the young man. He gently lowers the Boy into her arms. Hannah falls to her knees at the feet of this stranger, cradling her son in her arms. Hannah kisses the Boy and squeezes him tight in her arms. The Boy manages to look up and see his mother crying.
“I’m sorry, Mama... I’m sorry, Mama...”
Hannah looks up at the young man who brought back her son. Fox gazes down at Hannah impassively but with a hint of understanding in his eyes. Hannah reaches for his hand and holds it close to her. “Thank you,” she says to this stranger. “Thank you.” Hannah turns her attention back to the Boy and draws him near. She leans closer to make out what he is saying to her. “You were right... never stray off the path. You were right, Mama...”
Hannah notices that the Boy is holding tightly onto something in his hand. She unfurls his fist and sees a beautiful anklet. The Boys says, “This belongs to you now, Mama. It’s yours. It found you.”
Hannah raises the anklet and studies the shiny
diamonds. She turns it over gently in her hands. Hannah notices the inscription on the anklet. Hannah reads the words. God Is.
Hannah manages a soft smile, and tells the Boy, “Indeed, God is.”
CHAPTER
FORTY-NINE
“My grace is sufficient for you...”
—2 Corinthians 12:9
I refuse to make things up just so that I can give meaning to that which is beyond my understanding. I won’t pacify myself and pretend to always know the Truth.
One mother asks another, “Why is my child lost, but yours is out of harm’s way?” I don’t know, but I am thankful.
You ask me, “Why was a stranger there for me in time of threat and danger?” I don’t know, but I am thankful.
God Is... what? I’m not sure I can answer that for you. You might say God Is... Unexplainable. God Is... Real. God is... Silence. The best answer for me is, God Is... Grace. I don’t know. You have to complete it with a word of your choosing. Pick something that works best for you. Whatever you choose, it will hold the Truth.
CHAPTER
FIFTY
It’s past one o’clock in the morning. The old candy shop is closed. Its security gate has been lowered shut, so the Old Man walks around to the back alley. It is a narrow lane, cluttered with dumpsters, discarded boxes, and bags of trash. The backdoor to the old shop lies just beyond a ten-foot high locked fence. The Old Man shakes a steel chain that is coiled around the iron gate. He gets the attention of a shadowy figure standing in the candy shop’s rear doorway. The man named Me-Too hears the rattle of the chain, and steps out of the shadows. Me-Too says nothing as he walks over to the fence. He unfastens the chain. The Old Man steps through the gate, then stops to watch Me-Too lock it behind them. Me-Too points towards the backdoor and says, “Go. He’s expecting you.”
The Old Man steps inside the shop. The backroom parlor is dark and empty of people except for the Merchant, who sits waiting at the poker table. Me-Too walks over to the Old Man and gets ready to frisk him. The Old Man reaches into his jacket’s breast pocket, pulls out a white envelope, and sticks his hands up in surrender.
The Merchant waves Me-Too off.
“He’s just a sorry old man. Leave him.”
The Merchant points to an empty seat opposite him at the table. The Old Man walks over, pulls out a chair, and takes a seat. He glances behind and watches Me-Too lock the backdoor. The big man places the key chain around his neck and remains standing by the door.
“Well...” says the Merchant. He lets the rest of his question go unspoken.
The Old Man reaches inside the breast pocket of his windbreaker, and takes out a white letter-sized envelope. He places it on the table, but keeps his hand on it. He doesn’t pass it over to The Merchant. “What’s inside this envelope is how much your silence is worth to me. When I give it to you, our business will be done for good.”
The Merchant says nothing. He is waiting for the Old Man pass it over to him.
The Old Man smiles and laughs softly. “You know, I learned long time ago how to deal with people like you... and the Kid. Some believe the way to deal with you is to pacify you. Those people will sell you lies. You may have had a chance if someone told you the truth a long time ago. Someone should have told you that the path you’re on is for cowards, and for fools. You would have seen the truth about yourself and perhaps would have tried to do something meaningful with your life.”
“You hear this motherfucker, Me-Too?”
Me-Too nods and places his hand on the 9 mm pistol tucked in his waistband.
The Old Man shakes his head and mocks them both with a smile. “I imagine you had a mama who wondered, ‘What am I going to do with my boy?’ And she was given a one-word answer, ‘Love. Just love him with all your heart and soul.’ But she’d say, ‘That would require too much effort. I got my own life to live.’ You became an unloved child who would grow up to be a menace to those who just want to live quietly.
“And that’s unfortunate, because every now and then, someone like you and the Kid cross paths with someone like me. I’m not here to pacify you like others have done all your life. I’m not scared of what your ignorance and your greed can do to me. People like you and the Kid have no power over me. In reality, my man, it’s the other way around. I have power over you. I merely take you out and move on my way.”
The Merchant gives a slow, mocking applause. He is laughing at the Old Man. “You stay up all night writing that.” The Merchant reaches from under the table and reveals his 9 mm gun. He calmly places it front of himself on the table and rests his hands on it. “You got it wrong, Old Man. I am enlightened. Those with true wisdom know that life is meaningless. Get what you can now. Your words are nothing more than a lot of sound and fury spoken by an old fool. Your words, your life, mean nothing. All that matters is that you are here at my table with the money I told you to bring. And you’ll be moving on, only if I see fit.”
The sight of the gun doesn’t alarm the Old Man. He remains unfazed. The Old Man tells the Merchant, “No, I’ll be leaving right out that door over there when I say so. Like a shadow, like I was never here. And I’ll be leaving shortly after we finish our business here.” The Old Man taps the envelope. “I’m only here because I can engage in games. Here is what the story and its silence is worth.”
The Old Man slides the envelope over to the Merchant. The Merchant studies the envelope for a moment. Then he looks over at the Old Man. He can’t help but offer up a sly, knowing smile. The Merchant finally picks up the envelope and opens it.
The envelope is empty.
With an intense glare, the Old Man locks eyes with The Merchant. “How could I pay you for a story whose ending you didn’t know? You claim to like stories. Mine is about a soldier who easily found his prey and took him on a long ride far, far from this place. It was a long, quiet ride. Not a word was spoken. The soldier kept wondering, ‘Why was this kid so special? Why did this Merchant claim him like a son?’ You know that to be a soldier you have to be a hunter. This soldier searched out answers. He heard the rumors about a woman, the Kid’s mother. Did you love her? Are you capable of that? And when the Kid’s mother passed on, was she hopped up on some bad drugs you gave her by mistake? The soldier heard of a promise this Boss Man made that he would always protect the Kid. But you did nothing more than corrupt him.
“The soldier couldn’t give all this too much thought because all he heard during that long drive was the whimpering of the Kid from the back seat. This boy realized that his life was about to end. And so, this soldier eventually stopped this car in some outback forest far, far from The City. And he and the Kid went for a walk. The Kid didn’t make a move to run because the soldier had a pistol aimed dead at him. It was the Kid’s own pistol.
“The soldier and Kid came to a clearing where up ahead there was a lone train track that cut its way along a dark green hillside. The soldier told the Kid, ‘Drop to your knees, boy.’ The Kid did as he was told. And he began to weep.
“The old soldier walked up to the Kid and placed the gun against the back of the Kid’s head, and said to him, ‘Deny him.’
“The Kid was confused. ‘I don’t understand.’
“The soldier said again, ‘Deny the man who is like a father to you. Tell me, that he no longer means anything to you.’
“The soldier placed the gun more firmly against the back of his head. ‘I will help you. Answer me, “Do you know him?’”
“And the Kid who cared about nothing else except his own little life, gave the only answer he could, ‘No. I don’t know him. He is nothing to me.’ And the Kid began to weep some more.
“The soldier lowered the gun and he pulled out, believe it or not, an envelope and dropped it in front of the boy. ‘Take it,’ he said. The Kid didn’t know what to do. So, the soldier said, ‘Take the money inside. The passport and new I.D. Walk along th
ose tracks until you come to a station. Get on the next train and go away somewhere far from here. Don’t ever come back to The City. If you return, I will know that you’re not a man of your word.’
“And the Kid asked, ‘If I am not a man of my word?’
“You will die again, this time for real.
“And so the Kid allowed himself to be bought off. He took the money and denied you. Never to be heard from again. And that is how the story truly ends. A proud woman told me when the time came, I was to return and confront the true evil behind the dishonoring of her child. This woman told me to come here in her name, and to let you know, ‘You don’t win’.”
There is a deep silence in the room. The Merchant tightens his grip on the 9 mm, preparing to take aim at the Old Man. But all of a sudden there is a click. The Old Man reaches out from beneath the table, and with his switchblade, slices the Merchant’s hand that’s resting on the gun. The Old Man swipes the gun, gets a hold of it firmly and confidently fires a shot at the Merchant, sending him tumbling backwards out of his chair. Me-Too is shocked as he fumbles with his aim. The Old Man takes a calm and steady aim at Me-Too and fires two shots. He strikes Me-Too between his upper chest and shoulder. Me-Too drops his gun and falls in a heap in the doorway.
The Old Man remains seated. He has fired three shots without blinking an eye. There is silence all around him. He takes out a handkerchief and wipes the handle of the gun. He takes out a pair of leather gloves and puts them on. Suddenly, the silence is broken by a muted wail from the shadows.
“God, help me... God... help me...”
The Old Man calmly pushes himself back from the table, and walks over to the voice. It is Me-Too. “Oh God, help me...”
The Old Man sees Me-Too’s fallen gun lying by his side. The Old calmly places his foot on it, then kicks it away. With the gun he his holding, the Old Man takes aim at Me-Too.
“God... God help me... help me...”
The Old Man asks, “Do you know me?”
“Please... God... help... help...”
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