Cries of Innocence

by Roger Dale Watson Jr.

  Over the next few weeks, we managed to gather some of his things from his little shack, it was some weathered covers, some old pitchers, and some metals from his days in the military. It was not easy talking him into letting go of some old clothes as it was one of the only few things he had ever truly owned. But with some persuading we gathered him up and spent our free time helping him adjust to his new life so he could spend the rest of his life in comfort as he deserved. We all had a new grandpa and we all had a blast settling him in and visiting him, vowing to not let him feel alone ever again. It was funny as he learned how to use a microwave or a washer and dryer, and when he came up missing we could always find him in the grade tub upstairs, it was his hot tub and his thinking space (laughing). Yes, it was a long overdue gift having him in our life as we were a blessing in his life.

  Chapter 7

  The Plan

  After settling in our new grandfather figure, we took some time for ourselves. I could not get away from the thought of my dad sending me a message from his last moments alive while fighting for his life. I was filled with so many emotions ranging from hate to revenge that every breath I took was only fueling my life to hunt down the man who took my father’s life and make him pay with his own life. Now I know an eye for an eye is only an expression but that phrase was the only thing that brought me peace of mind. I tossed around many different ideas to hunt him down and every one ended the same way, they all had the same problem. I could not do it alone. Now I knew I had friends who were like birth sisters to me, we had already proven to have each other’s back in life. We had been through so much more than most people our age and knowing that, how could I ask them to give up any more of their lives for me.

  It was clear what I had to do without dragging them into any more of the drama that was my life. I had it all planed out, I would get them over and let them know I was gonna go away for a while and I wanted to hang out before I took some time for myself. After all I had been through and being out of school now, it was a very believable plan and I knew they would understand that I could use some time to get away. Or at least that was where my intentions were headed. With money in the bank and Douglas taking care of the house I was going through with this no matter what. I spent the next few days contacting the girls, asking them for a dinner date at my house for some us time and that I had some news to share with them. With the weekend approaching my plan was coming together, it seemed for once in my life I was focused and I knew clearly what I wanted and was brave enough to go get it. I never stopped to ask was it bravery or rage, but either way it was enough to make me feel alive, or I was numb to the pain of my past. But just when I thought everything was coming together, that simple old man that I had in my house started talking to me like he had lost his mind or like he thought I had lost mine. His words were more of a professor in a college room talking to scholars or a military man about to take his men into battle but either way it was not the man I thought I knew when he was just a broken and humble man of age who could barely carry himself. And now he was talking with deep thought and conviction as if he was getting me ready for battle as if he could see into me and already knew my intentions. The remarks said low as he passed were phrases directed to me and just as fast as I heard them and took them in stride he had moved by, and I found myself left with the message he sent with no way to respond. From ‘walk fast and think slow, for only when the mind wanders is when you make mistakes’ to ‘eyes are the windows to the soul, be careful who you look at or your secret will expose you’ and ‘before you enter a journey of trouble, educate your mind for battle.’

  It was as if he could look into my soul and see the revenge I was after. I tried to put aside the fact that he noticed my actions and focus on the plan at hand. Besides, with his wisdom I wasn’t gonna act like he didn’t know what he was talking about, I just knew with his age he couldn’t be much help. My phone rang off the hook that day with my girlfriends one after another chatting and talking like we did when we were younger. I was hoping that I wasn’t as easy to read for them as I was to Douglas. I spent all day in the kitchen cooking our favorite meal. It was the first meal my dad taught us to cook. I can remember him now saying spaghetti is not a spaghetti without a great sauce and that don’t come out of a can or jar. Dad would spend all morning cutting fresh bell peppers, onions, and tomatoes, cook ground meat until done, then drain fast to get some of the grease off the meat without letting the taste slip away. When mixed together and slow cooked for hours made the whole house smell like a walk through Italy on a warm sunny day. This dinner was supposed to be me talking to them about me going on an adventure. More of a ‘wish me well, Im’a be okay’ moment.

  Backing away from the stove, a glass of wine in hand, looking over the awesome meal I fixed, before I could finish my first sigh, there came Douglas with his nonsense. He said, “They gonna see right through you, you should just tell them you going hunting.” And as fast as he came in the kitchen like an eagle coming in to catch his prey, he spoke his mind then was gone, and all that was left was the empty thought echoing in my head over and over. How would he know, what would he know, and am I that transparent because if I am and I can’t hide this from a man I just met how will I ever keep this from the people I’ve known my whole life. The sound of the front door opening and the loud voices from the three women who knew my every secret coming over took the sound of my own voice and froze me in place. I had never been so scared to be around them, ever, but the last thought going through my head left me with the fearful reality that they may find out before I tell them and they may not understand. That alone would devastate me. To my surprise the smell of dinner had overtaken the whole house and managed to distract them.

  Conversation at the table was just as I had hoped, lots of laughter and memories, one story after another. It was almost too perfect. The laughing and joking was only interrupted by the presence of Douglas clearing his throat as he stared at me like he knew what was this dinner set up for. After avoiding him as much as I could, Kayle being as clever as she is spoke up, “Okay, is anyone gonna tell me why we are really here and why Douglas knows before we do, so either spill it or give him a throat drop.” I gathered myself and started from the top, I told them everything without interruption. Not one mutter, not one squinted eye of disapproval, just a casual sip of drink to keep the throat wet and they gave their full attention to my every detail. I told my story, not leaving out a single thing. The silence made it easy for me, even the occasional nod from Douglas was warming. After the plan was laid out in front of them, even the bitter talk of revenge was all out in the open, I sat there waiting for the vote of support from the only family I had left.

  I was relaxed to have it off my chest finally and thought I was free, then I waited for their reaction, and all eyes were on me. With a few sips of wine and a few looks from across the room, Kayle moved slowly into the kitchen and opened the icebox. The eyes off me, I’m not gonna lie, was refreshing. She grabbed two beers, handed one to Douglas, snapped hers on the edge of the table, took a long swallow standing over her chair before spinning it around, and setting it backwards, then spoke like I never heard her speak before. She said, “Well, what’s the plan on hunting this creep down and evening the score?” The reaction from us was loud as we all jumped up, all sharing the same thought as we loved my dad and had lost enough that night and we knew what we wanted to do. The next few weeks we planned every detail, not missing anything. Douglas took us like his own squad going into battle and we were ready for war.

  Chapter 8

  Plan in Motion

  With Douglas coaching us and under his strict guidance, he trained us to think strong on the inside and out. You would think homeless people wouldn’t have much, at least that’s what I thought. With a few trips to the tire shop and a few more places, Douglas rounded up some more men and they came together like a group. They brought us to a field and had weapons and back stops and targets; it was the real deal. Now three of us felt li
ke a duck out of water, never shooting a gun at all, but Kayle jumped out hollering, “Hell, yea, let’s shoot some stuff!” I don’t know how many rounds we went through but we went from shooting the tops of trees and rocks off the ground, by the time we were done, we could pierce the ear of a hummingbird with one shot. Now shooting a target was easy but killing a man we knew wouldn’t be. I don’t ever think we wanted to go there to kill him, we just wanted to be able to defend ourselves if it came to that. Enough of people have died already, I wanted the dying to stop, I just wanted the pain in my heart to go away, and I just wanted justice. It’s just at that time I didn’t know what that meant, I was hoping that would come to me soon.

  The next few weeks were busy, we spent our Fridays at every adjoining town outside our city’s limits looking for school colors to match the letterman jacket. We spent several weekends looking over and were about to give up when Madison’s bladder spoke up. She couldn’t ride in a car slamming cold drinks without having to pee every few minutes. Her bladder hit while we were on the highway and the only spot to stop was a little truck stop that looked far away to a woman with a small bladder. We all laughed as she was scared she had peed on herself. As we pulled in, she grabbed the letterman jacket instead of hers, putting it on as she ran to the bathroom, pushing through the truckers on her way. We all sat in the car about to give up as time seemed to stand still. The walk back must have been awkward for her as the man behind her looked like a linebacker and a biker had a son. He was a rough mountain of a man, the finger on the lip from Madison was our code for follow my lead so we were speechless until she spoke first.

  She made it to the car and said, “Hey, girls, meet Tom, he knows Hammer.” We hid our shock of not knowing anything and replied calmly. Then with a pull on the jacket we saw she had on the wrong jacket and she said he knew him, he played football against him at Morehead High just 30 miles from here. We snapped a story of romance and told Tom that we were trying to find him and we lost contact after a wild night and we wanna return his jacket. Yes, that’s a far cry from the truth that we really wanted to blow his brains out and watch him bleed out. After the swap of a few lies and some flirting, we got all we needed to know and were off. We went back to the house and told Douglas everything, then spent the rest of the week taking time to clear our heads and focus on our job—revenge.

  Chapter 9

  The Call for Redemption

  That next Friday came faster than I thought it would, but we were so ready and well trained that we just reacted like we were following a playbook. We rode around the town going from place to place looking for a guy who may not even live there anymore, all we had was a letterman jacket and a nickname. None of us had any idea of what he even looked like, until we walked into a little hamburger shop and we saw not only a pitcher of the guy we were looking for but a shrine of his last four years of high school football seasons. It was clear if he was anywhere in this town, finding him would be easy. He had pitchers and trophies all in this place as if this was the main stop after every game because this town loved their star quarterback. It didn’t take long before the old lady behind the counter recognized the jacket on Madison’s back, and the plan was in motion. We explained she was a special friend and it was easy to play a girl of his as everyone knows a guy that well known would have plenty. We went on to ask where a girl could meet him to return his jacket.

  She was more than willing to contact him and sent us to a dirt road on the edge of town to meet. We rode on that dirt road, not saying a word. I told the girls if they wanted out to drop me off and leave, there was no reason for them to be dragged any further into this than they already were. With one look around, they said from start to finish we will be together and there was no way they wanted out. It was late already when we drove up and the sun was going down which cooled off the heat of the day but made visibility harder. A thousand thoughts came and went, what if he is not alone, what if we panic, just what ifs over and over. Then we remembered what Douglas taught us, breathe more and think less. Right when we thought we were wasting our time and it was time to just drive away, a truck’s headlights could be seen in the dark of night and a huge 4x4 truck slid up about 50 feet from us. A tall, well-built man climbed out and with the headlights crossed, it was clear he could not see us. What happened next was not rehearsed and no amount of planning could have prepared us.

  He was out the truck hollering, “Hello, you called for me.” Everyone could see I froze up, neither had seen the other, so without a pause Kayle snatched the jacket, jumped out, and said, “Hammer, it’s me.” And knowing he could not see us, we eased out of the car, making sure we stayed in the darkness and out of the light. Kayle walked closer to him and the closer she got, the more nervous we got. Everything was going smoothly at first then everything went blurry. When she got close enough for him to see the jacket, we had no idea how violent it was about to get, even knowing how tough Kayle was, he was a very big guy. He grabbed her and moved her out of the light and with one punch forced her back, hit her head on his bumper, and knocked her out cold. We never got to see his face as he pulled the jacket off her limp body as she lay in the dirt, and he looked it over, reading his name inside the collar took him back to the very night he had been running from all these years. When one of us slipped in the loose gravel, he knew they were not alone and moved into the light, calling out to us.

  Madison and Carla were already in the light and were worried about me so they spoke up and said, “We are here, it’s us.” He screamed, asking where did we get the jacket and who were we and was getting louder and scarier each time. Being a man and an athlete, he moved toward them, gaining on them before they had a chance to react. I ran to the car where I knew we had the pistol and saw the short space between the driver’s seat and the door so I grabbed it. When I turned around, I saw my three friends taking the beating they did not deserve. He had one by the throat and the other by the head of the hair and Kayle was lying on the ground, not moving.

  The thought of her being the toughest of us all and still going down first never crossed my mind and I was pissed like never before. I hollered, “Hey, buddy, I came for you, let them go, it’s me you want.” I moved into his sight and with a friend in each hand, being way smaller than either of them, he did not show any fear of me at all. The pistol pressed against my back and the smooth grip on the bar gave me the assurance I needed to hurt him or die trying.

  The words he spoke were not heard by me as I swung the bar across his arm, almost breaking it as he let Carla go. Another swing to his leg and he dropped to his side, falling on Madison, then he caught the bar pushing me back while punching both the girls. While walking to his truck, Kayle spun and kicked him, stunning him only for a second before he threw her into a wooden fence. I felt the pistol in my back and without another thought I pulled it and fired a shot, stopping him from getting in the truck. I explained with another shot by his legs that he took something from me, then shot again, he never spoke as he counted every missed shot; not to thank GOD for the miss but waiting to have his chance to stop me. I listened to every shot trying to stay safe, waiting and hoping I would not be hit and kept this up till the gun clicked, showing it was empty. The man said, “Woman, you missed every shot and now ima kill you like I killed that crazy old man on that rainy night, ima smash your face in like I did that old man while he begged for his life.”

  Now holding an empty gun and hearing those hateful and hurtful words on any other day would probably be the end of me, but not the me who attended the Douglas class of self-defense: page one, give your opponent the false sense of winning. So with an empty gun he charged and with a slide of the left hand I took my spare clip, dropped the empty clip, reloaded faster than he would notice and the next shot was center mass in his chest. He dropped at my feet, the leverage the girls needed to regain their composure. They stood by me as I looked down at the man Treasure died trying to find and I had him. I asked him to say he was sorry and it would stop and he repli
ed, “Never!” He grabbed a knife from his side and as he swung it, three more shots went off from my gun, ending his life. He fell back with the force from the bullets stopping him. As we stood over his dead body, we paused for a moment before Kayle threw the jacket over him saying here’s your jacket. And like that it was over, on that old gravel road, it was over. As we walked back to the car holding hands, it began to rain, wetting our faces, washing away our tears, and all the cries of our innocence.