The Devil's in My Bathroom

by Eddie Latiolais

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT: All the Ducks in a Row

  Nick thanked Alvin and Angelle for their hospitality and left. He needed to get back to New Lake City and try to figure out what was going on. He’d found some answers in Lafayette but didn’t feel like he found all of them. He had a few hours before his flight so he drove around town.

  In the seventeen years he’d been away, Lafayette had changed quite a bit. He saw the Acadiana Mall where he remembered a swamp being. That whole area had grown from nothing to the retail hub of Southwest Louisiana. The chain stores made this part of Lafayette look like the dozens of cities he’d been to since working for Apocalypse. As he drove down Congress Street, he came across the Cajundome, a beautiful structure across from Cajun Field. He drove through the USL athletic complex and wondered what his life would have been like if he’d stayed in Lafayette and gone to college there, like he originally planned. He drove through the campus and saw that little had changed there.

  He turned and found himself driving around Girard Park. The park was unusually quiet for such a beautiful Sunday afternoon in the spring. He figured that a lot of people were downtown at the music festival. He drove around to the south end of the park and saw the duck pond. It had been overhauled since the last time he saw it. The aesthetics were pleasing, but it had lost the vision of innocence he remembered. The tree where he had the last, heartbreaking encounter with Jamie was still standing. He saw two young lovers sitting underneath and it brought him back to that night. After parking the car, Nick strolled by the two lovers. The girl was throwing bread at the ducks, which were enjoying the food and attention. The boy was playing a guitar. He was playing an acoustic version of Love Blender. Nick remembered taking Jamie to that spot. It was the last night he’d ever spent with her. He strolled to a little snowball stand near the pond.

  “I’ll have a small root beer snowball,” said Nick.

  “That’ll be one dollar, Nick” said the man in the stand.

  “Do I know you from high school or something?” asked Nick, as he struggled with the somewhat familiar face.

  “It’s me – Bart,” said the man.

  “Oh, yeah, right. Good to see you, man,” said Nick. “See ya later.” As he walked away he thought, How do I know this guy? He walked around the entire pond and came across an older man throwing bread to the ducks. The thing that struck Nick the most was the way the man was throwing bread with his left hand, using an awkward motion. Nick approached him.

  “Sure is a nice day,” said Nick. The man looked up and saw Nick.

  “I guess you could say that.”

  “Why aren’t you downtown at the festival?” asked Nick.

  “I don’t have much interest in music anymore,” said the man.

  “Man, that’s too bad,” said Nick. “I love music.”

  “Well, hooray for you.”

  “You mind if I throw some?”

  “Be my guest,” said the man, handing a slice of bread to Nick. Nick tore a chunk off and threw it with his left hand using the same awkward motion the man had just used.

  “You sure have a strange way of throwing bread,” said the man.

  “I notice you throw the same way,” said Nick.

  “My mother taught me to throw that way when I was a kid,” said the man. Nick had a mysterious feeling about this.

  “Are you from around here?” he asked.

  “Sort of,” said the man.

  “I was born here, left, came back, and then left again. I haven’t been back here in years.”

  “Where’ve you been?”

  “All over. Anywhere to get away from this place.”

  “What brings you here now?”

  “You sure ask a lot of questions for a stranger.”

  “Sorry about that. My name’s Nick.”

  The man held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Nick.”

  Nick waited a few seconds for a reply. “And you are?”

  “Confused about being here,” said the man.

  “So, why are you here?”

  “It’s kind of a long story. I don’t know if you have that kind of time.”

  “I’ve got time,” said the interested Nick.

  “Well, it’s kind of a sad story,” said the man. “About thirty-five years ago, I was living here with my pregnant wife. I was selling insurance to make ends meet. I was a professional musician, so I didn’t like too much the idea of selling insurance for a living. Her parents were well off but my stupid pride wouldn’t allow me to let them help us. She was a beautiful woman – my God, she was absolutely gorgeous. We had to live with my mother since I didn’t make enough to afford a place for ourselves. When it came time for Louise, that was my wife’s name, to have the baby, something went wrong.”

  The man started to shed a few tears. Nick was stunned to hear these words. He couldn’t believe whom he was talking to. As shocked as he was, he still needed to hear the rest of the story.

  “What happened next?” Nick asked, with caution.

  “She died while giving birth,” said the man, while containing the sobbing.

  “What did she have?”

  “I don’t know. It was some kind of complication that the doctors…”

  “No, I mean, what was the gender of the baby?”

  “I don’t know that either. I think they might have told me, but everything is such a blur.”

  “Do you even know if the baby lived or died?” The man lowered his head in shame.

  “No.”

  Nick wanted to lower the boom on this man but held back.

  “Didn’t you ever wonder what happened to that little boy?”

  “I told you – I didn’t remember if it was a boy or a girl.”

  “Right – you did. Let’s say for the sake of argument it was a boy. Would you ever want to know what ever happened to that boy?”

  “Maybe that’s what I’m here to find out.”

  “After thirty-five years, you finally have the nerve to come back to find out what happened to your son?”

  “Hey, don’t get all rowdy with me. I don’t know why I’m here, but I’m sure it’s not to argue with somebody I just met – and quit saying the word son. I told you, I don’t remember if it was a boy or a girl.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Nick. “I guess I’m a little passionate when it comes to that subject.”

  “What’s your story?” asked the man.

  “I’m here for the same reason. I’m trying to find some answers.”

  “Are you on the right track?”

  “I thought I was. Now, I’m not so sure.”

  “It has to do with love I think,” said the man.

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah. It was love that settled me down in the first place. It was the loss of love that started me on my path to destruction.”

  “So you think you’ve been destroyed?”

  “Hell, just look at me. I haven’t had a relationship in thirty-five years. I’ve been having sex with all kinds of different women. Not once have I even thought of staying with one of them. All I can think about is Louise. I drink all the time. I keep changing jobs. I don’t stay in one city for more than six months at a time. I’m so miserable.”

  “And you think love is the answer?”

  “It’s got to be. I’m sure I wouldn’t be in this predicament if I still had the love of that woman.”

  “So why can’t you let yourself love one of those many woman you’ve been with after all these years?”

  The man looked at Nick with cold stare and said, “Because of Satan.”

  “What?” asked Nick.

  “The Dark One himself has put a spell on me, keeping me from ever loving another woman.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’ve heard him. He came to me at the weirdest place.”

  “Your bathroom?”

  “Yeah. How in did you know?”

  “Just a hunch – go ahead.”

  “I started drinking heavily after Louis
e died. I ran away and didn’t care about anything. I remember one night I was sleeping in a YMCA somewhere. I drank an entire fifth of some cheap bourbon. I went to the bathroom to relieve myself when I heard this ghostly, demonic voice. He said he owned my eternal soul now, that I left my newborn child, and deserted my mother. He told me that I would never experience love again.”

  “Did he have an Italian accent?” asked Nick.

  “I’m not sure. It was just so cold and dark sounding.”

  “So, do you believe it?”

  “I don’t have any reason not to. I haven’t found love. I don’t even remember what it feels like.”

  “I’m kind of in the same boat,” said Nick.

  “Are you in a relationship?”

  “No. I was in love about seventeen years ago, got dumped, and haven’t found love since.”

  “You drink a lot?”

  “Yeah, I sure do.”

  “Did you ever talk to Satan?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Well, Nick. It looks like you and I have a lot in common.”

  “A lot more than you think,” said Nick.

  On the other side of the lake was a man with binoculars. He was hiding in some bushes while he got a look at Nick and the man. He reached inside his coat pocket, pulled out a large billfold containing dozens of pictures, and looked at the one given to him by Wainwright.

  “Well touch me in the morning and walk away with a bar of soap. That’s Pel-tire with a man that looks like this man in the picture,” he said to himself. This was the photo given to him by Wainwright during their encounter at the 7-Eleven. The picture showed Phil, Louise and Wainwright sitting at a table in a Chicago club. Barry Washington shot it. Elderberry had been searching through the Downtown area, trying to find a parking place. The festival crowd was enormous so he kept circling the area for a spot. He ended up lost and found himself at Girard Park. He saw the boy playing the guitar and thought that maybe this was a part of the music festival. That’s when he saw Nick, sitting next to the man. Elderberry took a long range listening device out of his pocket and directed it at Nick and the man.

  “Would you know love if you ever found it again?” asked the man.

  “I don’t know. The last time it happened, I got screwed over.”

  “Well, you have time to find out. It’s too late for me to find it but it’s not too late for you.”

  “And I guess you’re qualified to make that statement?” The man started crying. Nick put his hand on the man’s shoulder to comfort him a little.

  “I sure have made a mess of my life,” cried the man.

  “You sure have, not to mention the life of someone else,” said Nick.

  “I have a confession to make, Nick. I have regretted my decision to leave my child every damn day of my miserable life.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, and you know what? If he was a boy, he’d be about your age right now.”

  Nick was at a loss for words. He tried to keep his composure to ask the next question.

  “Tell me this - let’s just say that I was the son you walked out on. What would you say to me right now?”

  The man looked at Nick through tearful eyes.

  “I’d get on my knees and beg for forgiveness and understanding.”

  Nick thought long and hard about what to tell this man.

  “Well, I have something to say to you.”

  “What is it?” He stalled for bit then said, “You need to find him and tell him this yourself.”

  “I can’t,” cried the man.

  “Why the hell not?”

  “I’m too ashamed.”

  “Don’t give me that excuse. If you really want to feel some sort of redemption for your major screw-up, go out and find that man and tell him for yourself.” Nick wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easy.

  “For one thing, I don’t know if it was a boy or girl, and second, I don’t have the slightest idea where or how to start looking for this person.”

  “If you really want to find this person, I can help you.”

  “Really? How?”

  “I can get you the service of the best detective New Lake City has ever seen.”

  “How do you know that person?”

  “Because he’s been following me for almost a week and he’s right there across the lake, staring right at us.”

  “Oh, goddamn it to hell,” said Elderberry. He took his headphones off.

  “Here’s my card,” said Nick. He handed the man his business card.

  “Call me if you want the help, Phil.” Nick started to run after Elderberry.

  “Hey, Nick. How did you know my name was Phil? I never told you,” yelled the man, as he watched Nick run to the other side of the pond. He looked at the card and saw the name – Nicholas Peltier.

  “Oh – my – God,” said Phil.

  Nick found Elderberry crawling out of the bushes.

  “Why do you keep following me?” hollered Nick.

  “What are you doing talking to that man?” asked Gerome.

  “I asked you first.”

  “You were wanted for questioning for the murder of Zipper Down.”

  “I didn’t kill Zipper Down.”

  “I know that.”

  “What?”

  “Let me explain. I thought you did at first, but now I know someone else did.”

  “So why are you still following me?”

  “Not so fast, Pel-tire. It’s my turn. I answered your little question so now you’re going to answer mine. What are you doing talking to that man?”

  “I’m pretty sure he’s my father,” answered Nick.

  “Oh, that would explain the resemblance.”

  “You saw a resemblance?” asked Nick.

  “Well, it was hard to tell at first but after looking at the picture then you, I can tell.”

  “What picture?”

  Elderberry took out the picture given to him by Wainwright during the encounter at the 7-Eleven.

  “This is the man you were just talking to, isn’t it?”

  “Where did you get this?”

  “Some homeless man in New Lake City gave it to me. He had a peculiar interest in you.”

  “I just saw this picture in Chicago.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the copy Barry made for him. “Why would some strange homeless man give you a picture of my father?”

  “I think your father is the one who killed Zipper Down. This, by the way, makes me feel so good, since I was right about it being a Pel-tire. It was not quite the right one I was chasing, but at least you lead him to me.”

  “Are you trying to tell me my father is the one who killed Zipper Down?”

  “I’m not trying, I am doing it.”

  “You’re insane. I haven’t seen that man – ever – before today. What would he be doing in New Lake City?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know.”

  They both looked across the pond and noticed that Phil had disappeared.

  “What kind of scheme are you two pulling?” said Gerome. “You’re trying to distract me while he gets away? I’ll get you for aiding and abetting a criminal, Pel-tire.”

  He started running towards where Phil had been standing.

  “That’s it,” yelled Nick, as he sneered at the empty spot Phil just created. “I can’t take this crap anymore. Fast Phil just left me for the second and last time. It's time for me to get out of this town.”