Harold and the Angel of Death

by Gary McPherson

  The whiskers and nostril of a manatee broke through the water’s tension. Soon, its squinted eyes pointed in his direction. Within moments, three more broke the surface. The group stared at Harold, and he stared back at them. Their large bodies floated just below the surface of the calm waters. He felt a light touch on his shoulder and almost jumped off the rock in surprise.

  The touch quickly tightened and held him in place. A familiar voice whispered in his ear, “Aren’t they beautiful?” asked Darla.

  Harold turned and whispered, “I don’t know if I would call them beautiful. A curiosity and a bit awe-inspiring. I’m surprised they are so calm and curious.”

  Darla slipped in beside him. “Do you wish you could be like them?”

  “Are you saying I should be a large sea creature that can float on the water with my fat?”

  She smacked him on the shoulder. “You know what I meant. Do you ever wish you could be as docile as they are?”

  “No. At the moment I was just wondering if they can actually see me.”

  Darla slid her arm around his waist and sat closer. She put her head on his shoulder, and they both watched as the manatees slowly slipped just beneath the surface and casually swam to the bottom to graze on the grasses.

  “I doubt they saw anything since manatees are nearsighted,” she said. “They were probably just checking what was on the surface and may have noticed your shape.”

  Harold tilted his head over against Darla’s and enjoyed the presence of her company. They were both silent as they watched the sun sink below the surface of the waters and then slipped off the rock. Harold picked up his plate, and they walked hand-in-hand back to the compound. They passed by Maria and Joshua’s home, and Harold noticed the lights were out. “I guess Doc was more tired than I thought.”

  “You really don’t get relationships sometimes.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She raised her eyebrow. “Did your parents ever argue and then make up?”

  Harold felt a shiver through his body. “I never liked to think about that stuff with my parents. I don’t think any kids do. But yea, after they argued, they would always take a nap.”

  Darla laughed and released her hand as she stopped and doubled over. He waited for her to finish. She lifted her right hand, grabbed his arm, and gasped for air as she tried to compose herself.

  After a couple of deep breaths, she finally stood up. “I’m sorry, dear. That was very cute. Sometimes you do sound just like a little boy.”

  Harold grunted, gently took Darla’s hand back into his, and the two continue to the main house. They gave each other a kiss goodnight and headed to their respective bedrooms.

  ***

  The rays of the morning sun warmed Harold’s cheek like a friendly kiss. He opened his eyes and was surprised to see his digital clock on the nightstand read nine o’clock. Harold had showered and was on his way out of his bedroom door when Darla met him at the top of the stairs.

  “Come with me,” she said, “and hurry.”

  “Why, what’s wrong?”

  Darla didn’t say a word as she hurried down the steps, and Harold struggled to keep up. They rushed across the patio, through the house, and out to a waiting jeep. Darla jumped in and started the engine. Harold climbed into the other side. Before he had time to ask her where they were going, shells and sand sprayed out behind the vehicle’s tires. He hung on to the windshield’s steel frame and wondered if Chuck’s men had found them. He glanced around the vehicle looking for a weapon but saw nothing.

  Darla slid the vehicle to a stop at the airstrip. Harold looked over to see several bags being loaded into the Cessna Grand Caravan. Joshua and Maria were talking with Garcia.

  Harold hopped out of the jeep and bounded over to the three. “What’s going on, Doc?”

  “It’s Bill. Adam found out he attended Columbia Business School. We’re both sure we can find him, and I need to be there when we do,” said Joshua.

  Darla walked up beside Harold and gave a quick jerk of her head. Garcia followed her back to the jeep.

  “You couldn’t come up and say goodbye first?”

  Tears began to form in Maria’s eyes and drops begin to roll down her cheeks. Her voice cracked as she spoke, “I’m so sorry, Harold. Joshua thinks Bill could be in danger because of his hypnotherapy as a child. I asked Darla to go and get you.”

  Joshua interjected, “I need to see him as soon as possible. I also need my notes concerning Bill’s treatment. The papers are in North Carolina, and Adam says he isn’t sure which of the hundreds of boxes in the attic belong to me. I need to find those notes as well as your half-brother.”

  He reached over and took Harold’s large hands into his, “We don’t know when we’re coming back.”

  “Is there something else going on?” asked Harold.

  “Maria and I need time alone for our marriage. We came together during the tragedy of your parents’ deaths. Maria was nearly killed; we went on our honeymoon and then came here. Our relationship needs some quiet time to develop. So far, our marriage has gone from one crisis to the next, and neither of us is sure we can continue as a couple at this pace. North Carolina is still my first home. Adam promised me that he would make sure Maria and I have some time together to just be a couple.”

  “I don’t understand, Doc. How is that going to happen if you are chasing after Bill?”

  “Adam is going to hold me accountable to focus on my marriage as much as my work. You’ve talked to Adam. He can be very persuasive.”

  Harold looked at Joshua and then Maria. “Yea, he’s a good guy. I know you two will be in good hands.”

  Maria rushed over and put her arms around Harold. She laid her head on his chest and began to weep. All three held each other. To Harold, it felt like he was losing his family all over again.

  The three released each other, and Joshua pulled out a handkerchief from his back pocket, dried his face, and returned the white piece of cloth. He stuck out his hand to Harold. “Until I return.”

  Harold shook his hand. “Come back soon, Doc. Without you and Maria, all I have left is Darla.”

  Joshua winked and said, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  Harold grimaced. “Doc, please, you’re like my dad or uncle or something. Don’t even joke like that.”

  Maria gave Harold a goodbye hug. “I will make sure Joshua comes back.”

  Harold looked down into her kind dark eyes. “You better, and keep him out of trouble.”

  Maria grabbed Joshua’s hand. “Always.”

  She turned towards Joshua, and they both boarded the Cessna. Frank closed the door, and the pilot revved up the prop. Maria and Joshua waved from the windows as the small airplane made a quick turn to the runway and took off in under two minutes.

  Darla walked up from the jeep and took Harold’s arm and large hand. “We have a few days before we drop off the guns. What should we do to kill time?”

  Harold looked down and saw Darla give him a sly smile and a wink.

  Harold thought for a moment “I think we should go fishing.”

  Darla’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Fishing? Is that a euphemism?”

  “No. Look, Mom and Dad loved each other very much. They always talked about how they had waited to, you know…get close, until their marriage. I know right now our decision seems old-fashioned, but my parents said they never regretted waiting. On the other hand, I had more than a few college friends who regretted not waiting. I want to be with you more than anything right now, but not because of this, and not like this.”

  Darla put her arms around him, kissed his shirt against his chest, and snuggled her head against his heart. “Harold Brown, you are the most romantic man I’ve ever known.”

  Harold stroked her soft hair. If he didn’t change the subject soon, he might change his mind about waiting. Harold was relieved to hear Garcia’s voice.

  “Hey, you two, are you going to be okay meeting Chuck in a few da
ys? Harold, you’re not technically CIA, but we have rules about dating agents for a reason. I knew you two were a couple when I brought Darla back on, but then I had Joshua and Maria to divert your attention. Now that they’re gone for a while, I need to know you won’t do something stupid if you think Darla might be in trouble.”

  Darla let go of Harold. “Excuse me. I can take care of myself, thank you.”

  “I second that,” Harold said, “and I take exception to your implications. Darla isn’t some damsel in distress. I imagine if something goes wrong, she’ll be the one protecting me.”

  “Uh-huh. Joshua told me something to that effect. I’m taking him and you at your word.”

  “We’re all adults here. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

  Frank cranked up the jeep behind Garcia, and he turned on his heel and hollered, “Frank, wait for me. I need a ride back!”

  “So,” said Harold, “about that fishing. Are you game?”

  “I’m sorry, dear, I find bobbing in the ocean to catch large smelly sea creatures less fun than other ventures.”

  “What sounds fun to you?” asked Harold.

  “Snorkeling comes to mind.”

  Harold remembered the fun he had scuba diving out in the Pacific. He also remembered a great white shark stumbling upon his dad and him one afternoon. The fifteen-foot shark circled above them for a short time and then went on its way. He and his dad got back to the small craft as quickly as they could swim. It was months before either of them ventured far beyond the Pacific shores.

  “Any sharks around here?” asked Harold.

  Darla reached up and stroked his broad shoulders. “Nurse and bull. Maybe some others out in deeper waters but nothing a big strong man like you can’t handle.”

  Harold kissed her on the forehead. “Maybe we can snorkel some other time. I prefer to catch my fish inside a boat rather than have them catch me in the water.”

  Darla ran her fingers up and down his arm as she seemed to stare into nothing. She finally looked up into his eyes, “If you need me to come with you, I can. I’m here for you, but messing with fish guts and scales are not my idea of a good time.”

  “I can’t argue with that. To be honest, I think some time alone would do me good. I need to process Doc, Maria, and Bill.”

  “What about me?”

  “Are you leaving too?”

  “Not unless you give me a reason.”

  Harold bent down and gave Darla a long kiss. “Not if I can help it. What are you going to do while I’m not around here to ogle at you all morning?”

  Darla’s lips curved upward, and she gave Harold a knowing wink. “I guess I’ll just have to lie around the island and talk with Frank.”

  “Which one?” asked Harold.

  “The cute one.”

  Harold rolled his eyes. “I guess I haven’t met him yet.”

  “Hmm…” Darla swept her hair back over her shoulder and turned to stroll to the jeep. “Toodles,” she hollered with a wave of her fingers and then cranked up the jeep, spun the vehicle around 180 degrees, and sped off to the compound.

  Harold spoke to himself, “I guess I’m walking to the dock.” He made the short hike to the boat dock. By the time he reached the fishing boat, his body was reminding him that he hadn’t had any breakfast. Harold stuck his head inside the small dock shack to find Frank working on some paperwork on his laptop.

  “Hey, Frank. I was planning on taking the boat out. Is she ready to go?”

  Frank spun with a pistol in his hand at the sound of Harold’s voice. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you walk up. She’s all gassed up. I just finished giving her the once-over yesterday after you returned.”

  Harold blinked for a moment. “I’ll be sure and knock next time. I hate to be a bother, but things over at the house were pretty hectic this morning, and I didn’t get any breakfast. Do you have any spare coffee?”

  “Yea, I heard about Doctor Zeev leaving.”

  “How did you hear that already?” asked Harold.

  Frank snapped the holster shut around his gun. “It’s a small island. The pilot told us last night about his plans.”

  “Something wrong?” asked Frank.

  “I’m just wondering why I’m the last to know about Doc,” mumbled Harold.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t take it personally. We were all told not to discuss the topic near you. Garcia said it was a personal matter between you and Dr. Zeev. I hope he wasn’t mistaken.”

  Harold shook his head. “No, he’s right. It’s personal. Anyway, how about that coffee?”

  “I’ll do you one better,” said Frank. He pulled out a box of donuts from a shelf underneath the desk in front of him. He then pointed to the coffeemaker sitting on the shelf on the opposite wall. “Coffee is fresh. I’m full, and there are half a dozen donuts in here, all yours. Insulated mugs and a thermos are in the cabinet above the coffeemaker.”

  “Thanks. You just improved my morning.”

  “Glad I could help.”

  Harold gathered his quarry and boarded the fishing cruiser. Frank helped load the fishing gear as Harold got his much-needed food settled into the cabin. After a quick check of the GPS and sonar, he was ready to go. Frank hopped off, untied the craft, and tossed the rope on board. Harold quickly stowed the rope, climbed up the ladder to the bridge, and headed out into the calm gulf waters.

  Chapter 18

  The glassy waters parted before the small craft and then fanned out into ripples behind it. Harold stopped the fishing boat near a reef a few miles from their key. Looking back to where he came from, he only saw a barely perceivable spot on an endless sea of water that glistened in the morning sunlight. The warm air was calm and slightly humid.

  After dropping anchor, he grabbed the remaining two doughnuts and what was left of his coffee before sitting on a bench at the rear of the boat. Harold found the quiet waters and the still air a bit unnerving. It was very different from the cold Pacific that he grew up with. He was used to having some sort of background noise emanating from the coast. It wasn’t until this moment that his loneliness completely enveloped him. Suddenly, the reality of losing his parents, and that Joshua was really gone, hit him with brute force. Harold broke down and wept bitterly.

  The hatred he had kept buried for John and his team poured out in a wave of grief from behind his tears. Shortly behind the anger came the regret of killing John with his bare hands. He hated the fact that he had not just killed a man but that he had enjoyed it. Harold trembled in fear at the idea that there was a part of himself that had no regret for killing John.

  He tossed the donuts and mug to the other side of the boat, crying and wailing until tears soaked the front of his shirt. The more he allowed himself to weep, the better he felt. After a while, grief gave way to exhaustion. Harold lay down and stretched his body out across the bench seat.

  He closed his eyes, and the warmth of the sun and the mild air wrapped around his body. Although he had been nominal in his faith for many years, he felt as if God was wrapping around his body and holding him. He prayed the feeling would never leave him. Before long, Harold drifted off to sleep.

  His body hit the deck of the ship with a thud, and a dull pain spread across his chest. He groggily opened his eyes. The light of the sun blinded him, and he raised his arm to guard his eyes, but then a shadow took the place of the light. His ribs felt like he’d been kicked by a mule. He moaned and rolled over on his back. As he got his bearings, he saw the silhouette of a man standing over him. Startled, Harold hastened to his feet. Looking down, he saw John’s dead eyes staring up into his.

  “Good morning, brat,” John said with a crooked smile.

  Harold wasn’t sure, but it looked as if John’s teeth had started to rot.

  “John, what are you doing here?” Harold asked as he rubbed his arms and chest to remove the aching from the fall. “Don’t tell me this is another dream.”

  “Does it feel like a dream?” John’s face remained twiste
d in a macabre grin.

  Harold grimaced as he attempted to take a cleansing breath to wake up. He was sore, tired, and annoyed. “What do you want?”

  John went over and sat down on the bench. Harold noticed the open wound where the gun had been embedded flowed with a steady stream of blood. His clothes had a trail of rust and red that ran from his collar down to his chest. As he sat on the bench, a pool of blood began to form.

  John’s perverted smile finally disappeared. “I’ve missed this boat. I had a lot of good memories on this thing. Darla really likes a boat that rocks, if you know what I mean.” John finished his statement with an exaggerated wink.

  Harold’s large hands quickly formed into fists, and his knuckles turned white and began to pop. “You better have a reason for being here.”

  “Or what? You stupid brat. You killed me. It’s game over. You can’t do anything to me, but I can ruin your days for the rest of your life.”

  “I refuse to listen to you,” growled Harold.

  John let out a sigh in faux disappointment. “You kids are so impatient. I only came by for a friendly chat. Joshua has flown the coop, and here you are all alone. I thought you could use some company.”

  “I don’t need your kind of company.”

  John’s horrid smile returned. “I would say we need to bury the hatchet, but, well, you know.”

  Harold unclenched his fist. “I don’t know why you hate my family so much. I don’t know what kind of man reaches out from the dead to give the only surviving member grief, and I don’t know how, but one day I’m going to be rid of you.”

  “Brat, I wish you would, but I think you’ll just keep on feeding the hate I’ve planted.”

  Harold’s fists clenched and then released once more. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I know how to press your buttons. I will destroy you. That is if Haidar or Chuck doesn’t kill you first.”

  Harold could feel his annoyance turning to rage as John crossed his legs and leaned back against the portside wall. His top leg lazily swung up and down. His macabre smile stiffened Harold’s back. He had seen enough of his dead enemy. “Get out of here. In Jesus’ name, go away.”