Chapter Seven
“Hi, Ben. Thanks for calling.”
“How’s your head?”
“Still hurts. Like my broken arm.”
“Compared to the others, you lucked out.”
Cal was sitting in his apartment, covered in a blanket on the couch. The cast, wrapped around his left arm, rested underneath. His right hand held his cell to his ear. “Poor Donut. Heard he didn’t survive his injuries.”
“Waylon’s old lady and baby survived. Nacho wasn’t so lucky.”
“Jesus. Anything to do with Waylon’s murder?”
“Can’t say yet and I’ll be the last to know with the Feds.”
“Did I tell you one of them came to see me at the hospital?”
“Remember his name?”
“Her name was Westwood. Older African-American woman. Very pointed questions.”
“The funeral home had cameras in the parking lot and some extra security. The Fletcher Brothers welcomed biker funerals, but they’re not stupid. However, they did not ask for a police escort. Instead, just two security guards hired from an agency. One of these guys used to work for the Marine PD. He told the Feds as much as he could, but he was in shock, also with broken bones. The other guard is dead.”
“Did they find the location of the explosives?”
“If they did, I don’t know.”
“Doesn’t make you feel loved, does it?”
“There’s no love around here lately. Captain Schultz and the Chief have nothing to say to me or anyone else in Homicide. The Feds have silenced them.”
“That’s a shame, Ben. Of course, the only thing worse was the murders of Brad and Tyler Jensen. Sonya’s buddy from school lives at those apartments.”
“Cal, remember when I put you in jail twenty years ago–“
“Because I wouldn’t reveal my source.”
“I think your source is dead.”
“He is. Poor bastard.”
“Only two people were pushed out into the street. You and Elijah Barnes. Don’t be surprised if a camera caught the two of you walking out of the building. That surviving security guard is a witness. He saw you two go around the corner.”
“I thought no one was talking to you, Ben.”
“He came to me.”
“Elijah was my paid source for over twenty years. He was a bartender at the clubhouse and he would slip me some info. Mostly political. There were things I knew that I could never put in print, for my personal safety. Carolyn was still alive, Sonya was little...”
“What did Elijah tell you that day?”
“I can’t remember. I’ve tried and tried. I don’t think we spoke for long...”
“Do you think it had to do with Nacho becoming chapter president?”
“Why not?”
“I was never sure who Waylon’s enemies were. I always got the impression that Waylon was a laid-back guy. Not a hard-core one percenter.”
“He was involved in getting drugs across the border into Canada. He’d also go down to Florida, Texas, all over, and drive truckloads of heroin and anything else back here.”
“I wouldn’t doubt that he may have had a few enemies. And Roy Beauchamp from The Saxons was there.”
“He’s dead, too.”
“And that’s why I don’t think he was involved.”
“Who else comes to mind?” Garcia asked.
“I’m at a loss.”
“Is anyone helping you at home, Cal?”
“No. Sonya wanted to, but I told her to stay home. Her father agreed with me.”
“I don’t see as many people on the streets lately. Of course, the temps are still almost below zero.”
“Have you see The Marine Press on-line edition today?”
“Not yet.”
“They’re calling the shooter ‘The Marine Sniper.’ Creative, huh? Who wrote that crap? An unpaid intern?”
“They don’t know what they had, Cal. I’m feeling the same way around here. Look, I can stop by your place if you need any help.”
“Thanks. But I’ll be okay. Thank God it was my left arm that was broken, I’m right-handed.”
“You can work on your book.”
“I’ll have a whole new chapter now. I can call it, ‘How I Almost Got Blown Up With The Blue Diamonds.’”
“Send that one to Esquire.”
“Hey, Uneasy Rider.”
Bobby heard Archie calling as he entered the apartment unit. The older boy was standing in his doorway.
Bobby smiled and pulled the helmet off his head. “Everyone’s uneasy lately...”
“You wanna come in?”
“Sure. What did you do all day?”
“Nothing much. I’ve been reading up on The Blue Diamonds. Real badasses, huh?”
“They used to be.” Bobby took off his coat and sat at the table.
“Want a Pepsi?” Archie asked.
“No thanks.”
Bobby noticed the tablet at the table, front page of The Marine Press on the screen. “My friend Sonya’s stepdad used to write about The Diamonds for The Press. All the drug busts. I’ll bet The Marine Sniper is a Diamond; if the shootings and explosion are connected. But I could be wrong...”
“You could be right.”
“A couple of FBI agents came to our school. We had an assembly about safety because no one was prepared for what happened when Danny got shot. The girl who got covered in blood? She hasn’t come back to school.”
“She must be having nightmares.”
“I would be, too. Post-traumatic stress.”
“Colin has that. From being in Kuwait.”
“He was military?”
“A long time ago.”
“You explained why you left your church. Why did Colin leave?”
“He started to question his faith. New leadership didn’t help. Then his wife left him. He needed some time away, and he offered to take me with him.”
“Archie–“
“Colin doesn’t know you’ve been here, Bobby. He doesn’t know I have a friend.”
“Why not tell him?”
“I think Colin is starting to regret brining me here. I think he wants to send me back to Oregon. And there’s no way I’m going back.”
“Why are you so afraid? No one can make you believe–“
“But they can find a way to control.”
“Archie, you need someone to help you.”
“I dream that I’m back at that camp. They made us watch porn, Bobby. Kids as young as twelve, not even kissing yet. If their parents had the smallest suspicion that their child could be gay, they were given more and more hypnosis to find the first past life when they were gay, because there must be an explanation, right? Something horrible and depraved. Disgusting things that were planted in their heads, because how could a little kid recall living in a harem? Being forced to do anal or oral with different men? That’s rape, not sex. Those kids were happy until all of that garbage was dumped on us; we were bad, so we would always be lacking in the eyes of God. No new Jesus in our group. Do you have any idea what that can do to a little kid? The lawsuits that will be coming–“
“Are you sure you want to tell me that part?”
Archie grimaced, tears in his pale eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I can only imagine what you’ve been through.”
“I appreciate you listening to me rant.”
“How could you keep it all to yourself?”
“I think we were supposed to meet. I mean, what were the chances of finding a friend like you on the day Colin and I move in? I was taught not to believe in coincidences...”
“Maybe God does look out for us, Archie.”
Sonya and Bobby were texting and calling, but neither was allowed to leave home except for school. They both kept Piper abreast of the news of The Marine Sniper, but The Blue and White website was still down, much to the disappointment and relief of Sonya’s classmates.
Sonya had yet to retur
n from school that day. Aron had gone outside to wrap the mailbox in duct tape, a rough repair.
Bill, however, opted to stay inside. The cold made his body ache, and Aron didn’t like it when he went outside in the cold alone, saying something about him, Bill, getting lost.
I wouldn’t be so stupid, he thought. I’d freeze my ass off out there.
Bill had not wandered in a while. The new medication took away some of the confusion and anxiety. Bill was grateful for his meds, but he saw nothing wrong with a little natural medicine.
Aron had been kind enough to roll a modest joint for Bill. Aron no longer used marijuana, hadn’t in decades. Bill was only allowed to smoke when Sonya wasn’t at home. Bill knew his niece was no fool, she would smell it, but he followed Aron’s rules, even though Bill allowed Aron and Sonya to live in his house.
Bill took a puff, inhaling deep. He was sitting in his chair, Helga napping nearby. She was on her back, paws in the air, snoring softly. Bill grinned, shaking his head. The old girl was comical.
He looked to the dining area at the sliding glass doors. Nothing but snow, hills of snow. He had shoveled a walk-way for Helga on the deck to the ground. Another storm, and he and Aron would plow for the neighbors. The extra cash was a help.
Bill took a sip of soda, stealing from Sonya’s stash of Dr. Pepper. She was such a nice girl. She had baked cookies the other day. He wondered if there were any left. He tried to recall what kind of cookies she made. Peanut butter? Chocolate chip?
The phone rang next to his chair. He answered.
“Hello?”
“Good afternoon, sir. My name is Patrick and I’m calling on behalf of The Church of Mankind. I’d like to talk to you today about The Church’s mission.”
Bill paused.
“Sir?”
“A church, huh? I don’t go to church.”
“Do you believe in God, Mister...?”
“Call me Bill. Yeah, I think there’s a God. So what?”
“Well, at The Church of Mankind, we believe that God has a common mission for all of us. This mission is to obtain knowledge by accepting the immortality of the soul.”
“I believe that when I die, my soul will leave my body and go to Heaven or someplace. Maybe then I’ll remember the things I’m forgetting.”
“I’m so glad you mentioned that, Bill. Because The Church of Mankind believes that the knowledge, the experience, we have with each life we live brings us closer to a higher consciousness.”
“So we don’t know it all after we die?” Bill asked.
“Not everything, because we have to return to learn more.”
“Oh. You mean...reincarnation?”
“Yes, Bill. We have to return many, many times. But The Church of Mankind has master practitioners that can take you through each life to gain insight–“
“What if you come back as a bug? Or a dog?”
“The Church believes you come back as a human being. Once you’ve been human, you have to return as human.”
“Oh. So a dog would have to come back as a dog?”
“I think so. But The Church of Mankind does not deal in animal communication. Just human.”
“Will I always reincarnate as a man?”
“You could reincarnate as a woman, because men and women are human, right?”
Bill took another puff. “Okay. But if I come back as a woman, and have sex with men, would that make me gay?”
“No, but homosexuality is not condoned by The Church of Mankind.”
“It seems to me that sex is just something we do with our bodies while we’re alive, like eating or walking. When we die, we are no longer in our bodies. But we have a new body each time we come back, right? With each life, it would be less important whether we’re male or female or who we have sex with, because it would all start to blur together. Maybe it’s better that we don’t remember...”
Bill and Patrick were both silent for a moment.
“Bill?” Patrick asked.
“Yes, son?”
“Would you like to come to a service? The Marine Church of Mankind is located downtown. Our services are Sunday mornings at nine-thirty.”
“Maybe I will. But I have to ask something...”
“Yes?”
“Why do you people hate homos? My niece has a friend. He’s swishy, but he’s a nice boy.”
“Homosexuality creates an environment of irresponsibility, because the purpose of sex is reproduction. Our late prophet, Mr. Union, believed that the pleasures of sex should not blind a human being to its consequences. The spread of AIDS and other STDs or unwanted pregnancy is all a consequence of irresponsible behavior. These things impede the pursuit of knowledge of the soul.”
“But so many babies come into the world unwanted. What about their souls?”
“God doesn’t make mistakes.”
“But human beings do. If God created us in his image, as the Bible says, does that make God gay and straight? Male and female? Makes you wonder, huh? I used to think God was this mean old man with a beard. But I was wrong, because I don’t think God has all these rules. How can a soul get better if we put it in prison? Weigh it down with guilt and fear?”
“Our prophet was a wise man. You can learn more about him if you come to our services, Bill.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“I enjoyed talking to you, Bill. Have a blessed day.”
Bill was chuckling to himself when Aron entered the house. Aron removed his coat. “What’s so funny?”
“I just talked to some guy on the phone. He wants us to come to The Church of Mankind.”
Aron rolled his eyes. “Don’t talk to those people. They’re kooks.”
“They don’t like homos, either.”
The Sons of Man Page 9