Coyote Lee

by Jessie Cooke

  He tried to shake off that thought as he stepped back into the kitchen. The first person he came face to face with was Trisha. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to her since he got back from Boston. “Hey, Boss. You need help finding something in there?”

  “Nah, just needed a second alone.” He looked around to make sure no one else was listening and then said, “How is she?”

  To Trisha’s credit, her face didn’t change at all. He shouldn’t have to ask some club girl how his old lady was doing. He should have been lying in bed with her in his arms, talking about it all night. Instead, he had sat in his office until he was good and drunk and then he’d stumbled up to the house, and onto the couch. Colleen was still asleep, or pretending to be, when he passed through the bedroom and got in the shower. She did appear when he got out and made it to the kitchen for coffee. He asked how she was feeling, she said, “Fine.” And that was it. He was an epic failure at being a husband too…just like everything else he touched.

  “She’s doing okay,” Trisha said. “She let me help her do some cleaning and we made up some soups and casseroles to freeze just in case she’s not feeling up to cooking once they start her treatments next week…”

  “Wait, what treatments?” Colleen told him she hadn’t even spoken with the oncologist yet. He was confused, again.

  Trisha’s eyebrow did arch slightly then. She was probably thinking that he was the world’s shittiest old man. Maybe she was right. “Her chemotherapy treatments.” His face must have still shown complete ignorance then because she gave him a gentle, sad look and said, “I know you have church in a few minutes. I can sit down with you afterwards if you like and tell you what the doctor said. I was with her when she saw him yesterday.” Shit, Colleen had lied to him and told him next week, probably knowing he wouldn’t have gone to Boston if he’d known. He should have been there with her and he wasn’t sure if he was mad at her for denying him that, or mad at himself for not demanding that she let him be a part of it. “I’m sure it’s hard for Colleen to talk about.”

  Coyote felt tears burn the back of his eyes for only the second time in the past twenty years. If one of them fell now, he just might kill himself. He cleared his throat and said, “Okay, thanks,” before heading out the back door of the kitchen. He had to go to the shop and find another bottle before he went to church.

  By the time Wolf got up to the house, his mother’s kitchen table was laden with food. She had made all of his favorites, and as soon as he saw them, he knew this was going to be bad. “Chocolate chip pancakes?” he said, with a forced smile. “Wow, it’s been a long time since you made those, Mom.” He kissed her on the cheek and she smiled up at him. She looked tired and she’d lost a lot of weight lately. He was sure this had something to do with the old man, and he was hoping he’d be able to keep his temper in check when he found out whatever it was.

  “Sit down, X, and I’ll fix your plate,” Colleen said. Wolf sat and let his mother fuss over him. She filled his plate so full that even he would never be able to eat it all. He didn’t say anything, though. He got the sense that she needed to do this. After pouring him a cup of coffee and a big glass of orange juice, she finally sat down. Her hands were shaking as she brought her coffee cup to her lips.

  “So, what’s going on, Ma?”

  “Eat first,” she said. “I’ve been cooking for an hour.”

  He chuckled and took a bite of his pancakes. Having her stare at him while he ate was a little disconcerting, but again, he sensed that she needed to do it. “You’re not eating?” he asked, between bites.

  “I ate already. I couldn’t wait for you.” Wolf knew she was lying but didn’t call her on it. He stuffed himself with the pancakes, sausage, and bacon she’d made him, cleaning his plate and making her smile. When he finally finished she said, “I have more…”

  Laughing, he put his hand on his belly. “I couldn’t fit one more bite in here. I’m about to explode as it is.”

  “How about some more coffee?” She started to stand but Wolf took her hand and stopped her.

  “No, Ma. You’re stalling. Please tell me—what’s going on? Is it the old man? What did he do?”

  Colleen’s eyes filled with tears and Wolf knew that if Coyote hurt her, he wasn’t going to be able to just let it go. Depending on how badly he’d hurt her, it might just ruin both Wolf’s relationship with his father and his place in the club. His mother squeezed his hand and said, “It’s not your father. Coyote hasn’t done anything wrong.” Wolf cocked an eyebrow and she smiled through the tears swimming in her eyes. “Really. He’s been good…for a long time. I’m sorry about all of this, X. I’ve been having a big, fat pity party for a while now, and it needs to stop.” She gave him a sad smile and dabbed at the corner of her eyes with a napkin before going on. “The last thing I wanted to do was make this a big, dramatic scene, but look at me…”

  “Ma, just tell me what it is, okay? I know you’re not about the drama, so I also know this is a really big deal. Ma, I can handle a lot more than you give me credit for.”

  “Oh, baby, you have no idea how much credit I give you. You’re my favorite person in the whole world.” Wolf did know that. Colleen had never let him go a day without telling him. “I’m so proud of you. You’re as tough as your old man and you have his heart too.”

  That made him laugh. Wolf hadn’t ever seen his father physically hurt anyone. Coyote wouldn’t ever allow Wolf to be around when anything like that was happening…but he had heard stories, a lot of them. Especially when they had been in Boston for Doc’s funeral. Coyote had a reputation there for doing anything Doc told him to do without question. He was unarguably loyal…but heart? Wolf had to beg to differ on that one. “His heart, Ma? That’s supposed to be a compliment?”

  “Yes, it is,” she said, almost angrily. She didn’t snap at her son often, so Wolf was taken slightly aback as she went on, “Your old man has the biggest heart of any man I’ve ever met. I can’t even believe that his own son would deny that.”

  “We’re talking about the same guy, right?” Wolf said with a chuckle, although his mother didn’t look like she was in a joking mood. “Coyote? Looks like me only older? Kind of an asshole, always drunk?”

  Colleen let go of his hand and narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you know why he drinks so much?”

  “Because he’s a drunk?”

  Surprising him, she balled her hands up into fists and said, “That’s the first time in your life that I wanted to slap you.”

  “Ma…”

  “Hush! First of all, you do not talk about him that way. Do not ever say that he’s a drunk in front of anyone, do you understand me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’m not kidding. He’s your father, and your president, and he deserves your respect.” Wolf shouldn’t have been surprised. Colleen was an outstanding mother. A good wife…and the most loyal president’s old lady that anyone had ever seen. As far as Wolf knew, his mother had never uttered a bad word about his father outside the walls of their own home. He didn’t know what they said to each other in private, but he could count the arguments that he’d heard between them on one hand, and those had only been when Colleen didn’t know he was around. Wolf admired and respected her dedication, but it was hard for him sometimes too because he didn’t always believe that his father deserved it. But then again, there was so much she didn’t know. Women weren’t privy to club business and Colleen didn’t see Coyote in action. He doubted anyone would have the balls to tell her any of the stories either.

  He heard one while they were in Boston, about a time when Doc sent Coyote to tell some widow of one of their enemies that if she breathed a word about the club to anyone, especially the police, he would cut her up in pieces and boil her body parts. Wolf had struggled with that for a while, wondering if that was something Coyote would really do. He knew from what everyone said that Coyote never said no to Doc. Whatever Doc told him to do…he did. So, he had finally decided that if
Doc told him to dismember and boil her, he would have done it…no questions asked. Wolf respected loyalty, he really did…but he also respected a man who had his own mind and his own values. Sometimes he had to wonder if his father was just Doc Marshall’s robot. Coyote had gone downhill over the past three years and Wolf often questioned the correlation…to himself, anyway. What if Doc had always been pulling the strings, and Coyote had simply been his puppet? If that was the case…how long would his father be able to fake it before this club came crashing down around them? He had so many questions, and concerns…but his mother wasn’t the one he needed to pose them to. It would all only upset her and it was doubtful she’d have any of the answers he was looking for anyway. In an effort to soothe the anger he had spurred in her, he said:

  “You’re right, Ma. I’m sorry. I just got myself worked up about all of this and made assumptions that he’d done something to hurt you. I apologize.”

  She wiped another tear off her face and said, “Coyote is a good man who has done some bad things. Some of those things were his fault, and some weren’t. But he takes everything to heart and every bad thing eats away at him, constantly. He aches inside over all of it because he has such a big heart, Wolf. He drinks because it’s the only thing that eases the pain.”

  “And you’ve had to suffer for it along the way.”

  “Maybe, and maybe so did you. But there is one thing I’ve never had to do in all the years I’ve known him. I’ve never had to wake up or go to sleep thinking that I wasn’t loved, dearly. He feels the same way about you.”

  Wolf couldn’t deny that his father loved them even though Coyote never said it. He was fiercely protective of his family and that was what had led to most of the fights between them. His protectiveness bordered on control a lot of the time, and Wolf didn’t tolerate that well. He was still confused though, and he told his mother:

  “Okay Mom, I’ll concede that maybe I’m harder on him than he deserves. But…somehow, I don’t think this breakfast was about Coyote. I’ve got maybe twenty minutes before I have to show up for church or face his wrath, so if we can table the Coyote ‘rah rah’ for a minute and get back to why you wanted to talk to me?”

  She smiled. “You’re so much like him. Sometimes that makes me happy and sometimes it breaks my heart. But okay…you’re right, I’ve been stalling. I don’t know how to tell you this because it’s going to upset you. I spent the past three days trying to figure out how to do this without telling you, but you’re no idiot, so I knew that wouldn’t work. So, here’s the deal. I have stage III leukemia.” Wolf had been trying to figure out what was going on the entire time she was talking. That hadn’t even been one of the possibilities. It was like his brain had been out for a run and suddenly slammed into a wall. He could almost hear it starting itself back up as his mouth tried to form words that weren’t coming out. His mother could probably see on his face how he was struggling. “I saw an oncologist yesterday. I’m going to start chemotherapy this coming week. I’ll have four treatments and then…”

  “Leukemia?” he finally said. Colleen nodded and covered his big hand with her small one again.

  “Yes…but I’m going to fight this, Xavier. At first, I was knocked for a loop. I told you I’ve been having a pity party and that’s the truth. I just felt sorry, for me. But I’m finished with that. I’m ready to face this, fight it, and live until I’m old enough to hold my great-grandbabies on my lap.”

  “Stage III? What does that mean?”

  “Most cancers are staged by the size of their tumors, or the spread of them. Leukemia is in my blood, so it’s different. In my case what that means is that my platelet count is low and I’m at risk of bleeding. There’s some damage to my bones, which is why I’ve been feeling tired and…”

  “In pain? Mom…are you in pain?”

  She smiled again. “A little. It’s not been bad.” Wolf knew she was lying. She wouldn’t tell him any of this if she didn’t have to and he also knew she was minimizing it as much as she could.

  “What did he say about your…what do you call it…? Prognosis?”

  “After the chemo, we’ll see how it’s going and…”

  “Mom! You just said yourself that I’m not an idiot. I’m going to research this. I’m going to read everything I can find. Do you want me drawing my own conclusions?”

  “I just don’t want you to worry.”

  “Too bad. You’re my mother. I’m going to worry. How bad is this?”

  “Bad enough that the doctors don’t really expect the chemo to work, son. They don’t expect me to live out the rest of the year.”

  24

  Everyone was already in the big meeting room and Coyote and Manson were walking in when Wolf got back to the club. Coyote saw him come in and one look at his son’s face told him that he couldn’t avoid this, no matter how badly he wanted to. He told Manson:

  “Go on in and y’all run through the business you don’t need me there for. I’ll be in as soon as I can.” Manson nodded and stepped through the door. Coyote put his arm out and stopped Wolf from going in too. “Let’s go in the office,” he said.

  “No. I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

  “Son, we need to have this conversation…and then we all need to sit down as a family and figure this all out…”

  “Figure what out? Even the mighty Coyote Lee can’t fix this, so what is there to figure out?”

  “This isn’t your mother’s to fight alone. We’re a family. In a family, no one fights alone.” They had to figure it out; they couldn’t lose her. Coyote wasn’t sure that his son was any more capable of living without her than he was. He’d always just assumed his hard living would kill him long before she was gone. Wolf would take over the club and they would all go on…happily, without him.

  Wolf looked like he was fighting back tears. Coyote hadn’t seen his son cry since he was a little boy. He put his hand on Wolf’s shoulder and just like that, his son fell into him like he had when he was little. It took him a second, but then Coyote wrapped his arms around him and held onto him tightly. He could feel his son’s body shake and he wished like hell once again that he could trade places with Colleen.

  It took Wolf several minutes to compose himself. Coyote was glad all the guys were already in church. Wolf would have been embarrassed, mortified even, for any of them to see him cry. He shouldn’t have been. Coyote knew they all loved Colleen and they would all understand. But he also understood how his son felt. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do, Dad. I don’t know what we’ll do without her.”

  “You got nothing to apologize for,” Coyote told him. “I sat in the golf cart behind the shop the night I found out and nearly drank my stupid self to death because I don’t know how to express my fucking emotions. Don’t ever be sorry for showing how much you love your family, son. It’s one of your most admirable traits.” Wolf winced, like something Coyote said had hurt him, or made him feel bad. He was surprised when his son hugged him again. This time when Wolf pulled himself together he said:

  “Thank you. I’m still trying to process all of this. But I’m not willing to just sit back and let her go. I’m going to learn everything there is to know about this fucking disease, and we’re going to find someone, somewhere that can help her.”

  “I’m one-hundred-percent on board with that, son.”

  Wolf nodded. The sad look was replaced by a determined one and it made Coyote’s soul lighter. He loved that his son was a fighter. He loved that he was so much braver than his cowardly, fucking father. “I’m going to wash my face. I’ll be right in.”

  “Okay son, I’ll wait for you to get started.” He watched Wolf head for the bathroom. His heart hurt for him so badly, and when he made it to church, he was going to fuck his day up even more. Wolf was a fighter and he had no fear. Hopefully he would understand that Coyote was only doing what he thought he had to do to protect them all. Shit. He fucking hated this…all of it. He sucked in a shaky breath
and turned back toward the door. With the resolve he was going to need to face his guys and stick to his guns, he squared his shoulders and went inside. He had to keep telling himself, even twenty years later, that how he got this position didn’t matter. What did matter was that this was his club and unless they were willing to kill him, there was nothing they could do about it.

  A few of the guys gave him curious glances as he walked in. They were all wondering what went on in Boston and he didn’t blame them. He was about to change the course of the future of the club that they had all dedicated their lives to. His decision to walk away from the Southside Skulls would affect every one of them, and not all positively. He took his seat at the head of the long table at the front of the room next to Manson and let the men finish the business they were in the middle of. Manson was talking about a bakery in downtown Fresno that they had a fifty percent stake in. The owner wanted to sell so they had to decide whether they wanted a new partner, or if they wanted to run a bakery. It was boring but necessary shit. By the time they took a vote on that, Wolf was back and Coyote was ready…he hoped.