by Billy Kring
Trouble came on the fifth day.
Bodhi and Amber sat in another bedroom in the latest house, an older one, with brown water stains under the windows. The window in their bedroom had fresh plywood screwed over the opening. The room smelled of dust and, faintly, of insecticides.
“Where do you think we are this time?” Bodhi said.
Before anyone could answer, they heard voices in the living room. The voices grew quickly louder and angrier.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway and the bedroom door opened. The Kiowa stepped to them and reached for Bodhi.
Amber said, “Leave her alone!” and pushed at him. It felt like pushing stone.
She didn’t see the punch as his fist slammed into her jaw, rocking her head. Red flashes sparked in her vision and she felt as if she had been electrocuted. She fell sprawling on the floor.
The Kiowa squatted beside her, grinning. He grabbed her hair and lifted her face, then hit her again, very hard. She felt the terrible power of the blow as she sunk into a gray, pain-filled haze.
The man paused a second to let her regain consciousness, then launched one more shot to her face. Amber lay limp on the floor, on the edge of consciousness. He let go of her hair and stood, saying, “Bitch,” closing the door behind him as he left.
Amber fought to regain her senses as she lay there. She felt her eye and face swelling so fast it seemed her eye blinked down the lid in slow motion on its own. She crawled to the door to listen, and that took all her strength.
Several voices argued. Amber made out several words, “It’s not working like you planned,” and another voice, “You double-crossed me,” and a third, “I’m gonna ki–,” two sharp gunshots cut off the last word and the sounds made her jump. She heard Bodhi scream. More noises of fighting came fast on the heels of the shots, sounds of heavy bodies hitting the walls and floors, yells of pain, screeching tires outside, and then quiet.
“Oh no, no,” Amber whispered. She crawled to the bed and used it to help stand. She faced the door on wobbly legs and waited with her fists balled tight. She heard a car start up outside, then drive away. She spat a large gob of blood and heard them coming.
The door opened and one of the black men said, “Come on.”
“No.” Behind the man, Amber saw the other room open as the second black man stood by it and motioned the Hispanic women out of the room.
The man said to Amber, “We not hurtin’ you, we takin’ you all to another house. Don’t make me beat you and then carry you. If that happens, I’m gonna be pissed. You understand, girl?”
Amber staggered out the door. Two of the Hispanic women came to her and helped keep her upright all the way to the van. They all saw the black woman with the platinum hair lying dead on the threshold. There was no sign of Bodhi, or of the Kiowa.
In seconds they started the engine and drove from the house. Amber lay on her side so the blood drained out of her mouth and not down her throat. Floating in and out of consciousness made the trip seem short. They ushered everyone into the old house by the huge boulders, and Amber stayed with the other women in one cluttered room obviously used for storage.
Finding a spot on the floor at one corner, She sat with her back against the wall and knees high so she could rest her arms and head on them.
When the room and house filled with smoke, she crawled into the small closet and pulled a dozen old shoeboxes to the front, then she curled on her side behind them. A small space among the boxes allowed her to see into the room, and as the smoke deepened and the other women cried out in panic, Amber remained silent and watchful.
The largest black man opened the door and yelled, “Get outside!” He yelled again in Spanish, “Afuera!”
The women hurried out of the room, and the black man took one more look around before following the women. She’d escaped their clutches, at least temporarily.
She heard sounds of fighting outside. The smoke burned her eyes and breathing it made her head spin, but to leave was to be captured again, so she stayed hidden.
A few minutes later, she heard someone coming into the house. Praying it wasn’t the Kiowa or one of his men, Amber peered through the small crack and at the same time heard what sounded like a familiar voice outside. Her heart beat faster. Ronny’s here, she thought, and she knew it would be all right.
~*~
“Then Hondo found me, and I followed him outside and hugged your neck.” Amber said.
Hondo said, “Do you have any idea what happened to Troy or Bodhi?
“Troy?” Amber shook her head, “I didn’t know Troy was anywhere around. He’s here?”
“He and TJ teamed up to hunt for you and Bodhi, along with us.”
“Who’s TJ?”
“The tall black one with silver hair.”
“The one they shot.”
“Yes.”
As we waited for the authorities and Derek Pozza, my phone rang. It was Derek. I said, “Hey.”
Derek said, “You ready for this? Troy called Sylvia and said he’s rescued Bodhi. He’s driving to L.A. right now, taking her straight to Sylvia at the mansion.”
My mouth hung open. I closed it and told Amber and Hondo. Hondo shook his head, “The guy’s Jason friggin’ Bourne.”
When Derek arrived, we had the chance to brief the authorities, with Amber telling her story. Afterward, we followed them to the station and signed our statements. We also had one of their paramedic-trained officers treat Amber and do an excellent tape job on my ankle. All of it took almost three hours. Afterward, we followed Derek to the car rental where he dropped his rental off and climbed into the driver’s seat of the Navigator. “Everybody ready?” he said. We all nodded, and Derek drove us to Los Angeles.
We arrived at Sylvia’s mansion as five or six vehicles exited through the open gate. Another two-dozen or so cars remained in the parking area. I said, “What’s with all the visitors?”
Derek said, “I imagine they came to see Bodhi.”
That made sense, but it still felt odd to me. I’d have thought Sylvia would want a good deal of solo time with her daughter after the ordeal.
When we entered the mansion, another dozen people mingled there, all sipping champagne and dressed in suits and evening gowns. Amber whispered to me, “What’s going on?
“I don’t know.”
We found out soon enough as they descended the grand staircase together. A tuxedo-wearing Troy smiled as if he’d won an Oscar.
Bodhi and Sylvia flanked him, and Troy had an arm locked with each of the women. Sylvia and Bodhi wore elegant dresses. Bodhi’s eyes had that deer-in-the-headlights look to go with a fixed smile. Troy beamed between them. Sylvia spotted us, and then blinked back tears as she looked at Derek.
We met them at the bottom of the stairs, and Troy said, “I would like you to meet my wife and stepdaughter.”
Derek looked like someone punched him in the stomach. He turned to Sylvia, “You’re married?”
Troy said, “The joy of me rescuing Bodhi and bringing her home to Sylvia; it let us know how much we loved each other and how much we wanted to be a family. Sylvia and I decided not to put it off a second longer.” He pulled the two women closer as he said it.
At that moment, Jericho Moon walked into my line of sight. He wore a plain white tunic that reached to his hips, Jeans, and sandals. He had a small bible and a long quartz crystal in one hand. He said, “It is wonderful, isn’t it?” He used his free hand to indicate Troy and the two women.
Troy stepped from between Bodhi and Sylvia, putting his hand on Jericho’s shoulder, “He performed the ceremony. It was beautiful.”
I said, “You’re an ordained minister?”
“I am. The Theologians Ordaining Ecumenism.”
I spelled it, “T.O.E.”
“Yes.”
“Are you the big one?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Are you the big toe. Just trying to figure out the hierarchy.”
Jeric
ho smiled, “Your humor’s carried you far. I’m happy for you, Ronny. But ghosts still haunt your dreams. Run fast or they will catch you. My offer still stands for you to come to me for a reconciliation with the spirits. I can help. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
I wanted to shake him out of this pious act and said, “You sing and play very well. It’s a shame your friend in Topanga was murdered before he could get you a deal, huh?”
Moon’s eyes changed. “Like the handwriting on the wall.”
I felt the hairs prickle on my neck. “You mean the words written in blood on his wall?”
Moon said, “It’s a saying, Baca, nothing more. Tom Hammons got what he deserved. He promised me everything, and out of jealousy withdrew his offer at the last minute. Karma, Baca, can be a bitch.” He smiled, “Peace and love, brother.”
He passed by me and disappeared, going out the huge dual doors to the area by the pool, where Moon’s Maidens waited to embrace him.
Derek still looked in shock.
Hondo said, “Troy, want to tell us what happened?”
“It was nothing.”
Amber said, “It was darn sure something. I saw them drag Bodhi out of the bedroom, and I walked by a dead body when they took me from that house.”
I said, “Don’t be shy. This isn’t the time.”
Troy sighed and said, “When we found the house and went inside, the arguing started fast between TJ and one of the black men. TJ pulled a pistol, and one of the others knocked it loose. Someone shot TJ, but it was so confusing then, that I never saw who did it. The gun fell and I grabbed it, then took Bodhi and pointed the pistol at the Kiowa and told him to lead us out of there.” Troy glanced at Amber, “I didn’t have time to come for you. I’m sorry.”
Amber gave him a tiny nod.
Hondo said, “So you’ve got a gun on him. What did you do then?”
“We got in his car, me in the back seat behind him and Bodhi beside me. I touched the barrel to his head and told him to drive or I’d shoot. He drove from the house, and about five miles later, I made him stop and told him to get out. We got in the front and I drove away and came here.”
It didn’t feel right to me, but I couldn’t see any holes in it.
Derek hadn’t listened to any of it. His eyes were red and his voice hoarse with emotion when he said to Sylvia, “I wish you happiness.” He turned to Bodhi and said, “I love you. Always have, always will.” With that, he walked away from them.
I heard Sylvia choke back a sob, then we caught up with Derek. Hondo, Amber and I left with him. I looked back once and saw Bodhi watching us leave, then we drove out the gate and she was out of sight.
None of us talked. When Derek dropped us off at the office, Amber hugged his neck, and Hondo and I nodded. He drove off without a word. This sure didn’t feel like a celebration to us.
Hondo said, “I’m going to the house. Call if you need me.”
I told Amber, “I’m taking you home and nursing you for a couple of days, okay?” She nodded and put her cheek on my shoulder as she hugged my arm. I said, “Chinese okay? We can pick it up and take it to the apartment.”
“Just a bowl of egg drop soup for me. I’m not going to do much chewing for a while.”
We stopped at a Chinese food restaurant I knew that wasn’t far from Amber’s apartment and picked up soup for both of us; egg drop for her and hot and sour for me. We ate it while sitting on her couch, watching Big Trouble in Little China. I’ve seen it probably four million times, but Amber had never viewed the awesomeness of this John Carpenter classic. I had to bite my tongue not to quote along with the movie or tell her what was going to happen next between Lo Pan and ol’ Jack Burton.
She loved it, and we talked about scenes for another hour before deciding to watch a little more television before going to bed. I flipped channels and found a documentary on Townes Van Zandt, the late, great country singer and songwriter.
Amber had her bandaged head in my lap and as we watched, she said in a sleep-slurred voice, “I love his music.” Five minutes later she was asleep. A couple of times she whimpered and frowned, but I put my hand on her arm and she relaxed, sleeping deeply. I found a small throw pillow and eased it behind my head. I closed my eyes a few minutes later...
The next morning the doorbell ding-donged and woke me. Amber stirred, then stretched like a cat, which I thought was cute. I stretched, too, and tapped my bad ankle on the leg of the coffee table. I uttered a sound like a lost baby kitten, but didn’t pass out from the pain.
Amber said, “I’ll get the door.”
I thought about the last time Amber answered her door and hopped to my feet, “I got it.” My ankle hurt but not as bad as I thought it would. Of course, I hadn’t taken off the tape either. I opened the door and Hondo came in carrying a large brown paper bag.
Amber pointed at the bag and said, “What’s that?”
“Miso soup for breakfast.”
Amber said, “Yum, I love Miso.”
Hondo said, “I didn’t figure you’d be chewing much.”
Amber hugged his neck, then pecked him on the lips, “You’re so thoughtful. Thank you.” She gave him another quick hug then carried her soup to the couch.
I said to her, “Uh, hey, I got soup for you last night, remember?”
Hondo handed me a bowl as Amber said, “I remember, but this is breakfast. The most important meal of the day.”
Hondo’s eyes crinkled, and the corners of his mouth went up a quarter inch. He said, “It certainly is.”
I said “You’re not the boss of me,” and they both laughed, so I ate my miso soup in big slurps just to aggravate them. It was good.
I finished mine in record time, then leaned toward Hondo to see how much he had remaining in his bowl. I said, “You gonna eat that?”
He turned his shoulder to me as he spooned faster. I turned toward Amber, but she just smiled that lopsided smile and turned her bowl upside down. Not a drop left. “You need to be fast, cowboy, if you’re going to hang with the champ.”
I was actually full. I said to Hondo, “Do we have something on our schedule?”
“We need to get with Sylvia so she can pay us.”
“You want to check on Bodhi, see how she’s doing too, don’t you.”
“Don’t you?”
“Yes. That whole quick marriage thing is giving me indigestion.”
“I know.”
Amber said, “Would you check on Derek, too? Looking at him last night broke my heart.”
I said, “We’ll go by his house.”
She beamed at me and I felt my spirits lift. Amber is one tough woman.
Hondo said, “You ready to go?”
“Let me brush my teeth.” He nodded and I sauntered into the bathroom and took care of business, then went to Amber and kissed her, “I’ll be back. Don’t do too much.”
“Yes, boss.” She waved at Hondo, and we left.
Traffic was horrible, so it took us a while to get there. We called Wilson before arriving and he had the gate open. I asked, “Where were you yesterday?”
“My day off. I was in Carmel, playing tourist. I heard about it, though.”
I noticed several cars in the parking area. “Anything happening this morning?”
“Yeah, not sure what. Couple of attorneys, Sylvia’s and another one. I’m guessing it’s someone Troy knows.”
That didn’t sound good. “Okay, we’ll go in, say hello, get our pay and slide on out of here. Well, after we talk to Bodhi.”
Wilson said, “Park this heap and I’ll walk with you two.”
“Heap?”
“Shamu’s beautiful, is that better?”
“That’s more like it, Marine.”
Hondo said, “Let’s get out of this heap and go.”
“Hey!”
Hondo and Wilson high-fived and started toward the mansion. I hobbled along on my sore ankle and caught up with them in a few strides. Wilson nodded at the mansion, “It’s a differ
ent vibe in there today.”
We walked through the doors and followed Wilson to Sylvia’s office, which had the door open. Sylvia motioned us to enter. Two men in suits stood beside her large desk. Troy leaned over some papers and signed a number of pages in what looked like two lengthy, legal documents.
When he finished, each suited man took a copy, shook hands with everyone but us, and left the office, ignoring us as they passed. I said to Hondo, “They didn’t even say hello. My heart’s broken.”
Troy smiled and shook our hands, “Hello, fellows. Welcome to our home.”
I let it go right on by and said, “Hi, Sylvia.”
She came around the desk and hugged us both. “I owe you money, I believe. And a great deal of thanks.”
Hondo said, “Glad we could help.” He slapped Troy on the shoulder and said, “But this guy is the real hero. He rescued Bodhi out of a dangerous situation. I’m not sure I could have done as well.” He one-arm hugged Troy around the shoulders in a gruff, manly way, then stepped back and smiled. “I’m glad we helped a little.”
Troy didn’t know what to think, and neither did I. He gave a goofy smile and chucked Hondo on the shoulder, “You guys did all right. I appreciated the help.”
Sylvia gave us each a check and hugged us again. Hondo said, “Could we see Bodhi? We’d like to say hello.”
Before Troy could speak, Sylvia smiled and said, “Of course, she would love to see you.” She told us where Bodhi’s room was, and we headed that way. Wilson said he’d catch us before we left. As we walked down the long, long hall, I said to Hondo, “What was that all about?”
He showed me his hand. The large iPhone’s black screen showed my reflection.
“Uh, why, exactly did you commit felony theft?”
“I’m not stealing it, I’m borrowing it for a bit.”
“He’d beg to differ.”
“He doesn’t know.”
“There’s that. What are you looking for?”
“I don’t know, but thought it would be a good place to begin.”
We stopped at Bodhi’s door and I knocked as Hondo put the phone in his back pocket. Bodhi opened the door and we immediately saw she’d been crying. She invited us inside and hugged us both, holding the hugs a good ten seconds. She said, “I hoped I’d see you two again.” She asked me, “How is Amber?”