“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” Ash asked, without looking into the dining room.
“Positive.”
Ash reached deep into the fridge for a two liter of Coke and filled the glass just short of the top. She grabbed a bottle of whiskey off the top of the fridge and topped off the glass. On the way out of the kitchen, she jerked a hand towel off the counter and dabbed it against her eyes.
“I’ve got friends in California,” Ash said, as she took a sip of the drink, wincing from the burn of the whiskey. “I’ll just go stay with them for a while, sell the house, we’ll be fine.”
“He wants me to go with you.”
Ash laughed and sat back.
“Oh, that’s okay, I’m not a helpless little girl, Billy. I can take care of myself.”
“Ashley, I want to go with you.”
Ash held her stare for a breath, and then looked down at her glass. She took a drink, grimaced and then dabbed the towel against her other eye.
“Why?” she finally asked. “You don’t owe us anything.”
Billy’s nerve faltered. He’d forgotten how intimidating Ash could be.
“It’s not about owing anybody anything,” Billy said. “I would like to be with you, you and Sean. Jim is my friend, so I’ve never said anything, but … but I’m saying it now. Please, come with me. I can get a different place for you—I’ll just visit if that’s what you want—but I can’t bear not being around you anymore.”
Ash took another drink; the ice clinked in the glass as her hands trembled.
“You’ve been a good role model for Sean,” Ash said. “I appreciate that, but you’re not his father. I don’t know what kind of honor thing you’ve got in your head, but …”
“I love you,” Billy said, cutting her off. “That’s it, that’s why I’m asking. I love you, have as long as I’ve known you. You need to get out of here, and I want to take you because I love you, I love Sean and I want us to be together. Those are all my reasons, I’m not going to lie to you.”
Ash frowned and stared down at the ice crackling and melting in the glass.
“You’re mixed up,” Ash said. “You’re doing it because Jim told you to—that’s the way Jim is. When he tells someone to do it, they do it. We all do. I’m sure if he would have told me personally, I would have.”
“Ashley …”
“The thing is,” she continued, “I don’t want to be with someone who is just doing Jim’s bidding.”
“I’m not Ashley. I guess I might be asking you now because I talked to Jim. It’s not because he told me to, but it really is just because I now think I can.”
Ash bit her lip and looked up at Billy; a web of red lines was rising through the milky white of her eyes.
“He is still my best friend,” Billy whispered. “I just didn’t feel right about this until I knew I had his permission. I’ve carried a lot of guilt about the way I felt about you for a long time, but now I think that it’s time for us to move on.”
“Are you sure you’re doing this for the right reasons?” Ash asked.
“It’s not like I need the money.”
“I don’t know,” Ash laughed. “I’ve seen that piece of shit you drive around.”
“It’s not a piece of shit,” Billy snapped. “It’s a classic.”
“A classic piece of shit, you mean.”
They both laughed, releasing the stress from the conversation. Billy felt lighter from releasing the burden, though he felt guilty for giving it to her.
“So,” Billy said. “If you want to go to California, we can; I would suggest San Diego or northern California.”
“Hold on, there, stud,” Ash said. “I’m not sure about this. It sounds nice and all, but I’ve got to think about Sean too. It … I’m just not sure. You’re going to have to give me some time.”
Billy nodded, smiling heavily. Ash slipped her hand over his and squeezed.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said. “It’s just a very hard time and it’s complicated.”
“I know,” Billy said. “Just whatever I can do to help. Okay?”
This is a sample from closer to the end. I’m not particularly happy with the end and am still working on it. This part is ready to read, though. It takes place two days later in the woods near the compound where all those lunatic cult people lived.
They only knew the mob was near because of the flames from the torches that appeared and then disappeared in the darkness of the woods. The voices seemed to hide behind the trees all around them—the whispers, the curses and laughter all blended together in the night air.
Ash reached for Billy’s hand, and her palms were moist and warm. He glanced back at her to offer a reassuring smile, but instead the smile wavered and frowned. Her eyes were half-filled with tears. Billy looked around the trees, trying to discern an avenue they could escape through. They couldn’t afford to get lost in the woods; they were already running out of time.
“Come out!” a voice shouted. “You are just making me mad, woman!”
Billy tugged Ash behind him as he began to jog away from the voice and the torches. He could still hear voices the way they were going, but they seemed distant. Billy stopped momentarily, glanced behind them to watch the torches. They were far away, but it was hard to tell which direction they were headed. Billy tried to find the moon in the night air, but the canopy of branches only gave way to a few glimpses of the stars.
“We’re heading the wrong direction,” Ashley gasped.
“I know,” Billy answered. “I’m going to circle behind them, see if we can sneak right past them back into the compound.”
Billy led Ashley farther into the woods. They came to a slender stream and Billy started down carefully. He looked down both ends of the stream as Ashley eased down the bank. A few shadows emerged a hundred yards away. They were men wearing kilts with large knives in their hands. Billy and Ashley sank down to the moist mud and they watched the figures run right through the stream and disappear in the trees on the other side.
Billy rose up to his knees and helped Ash up. They quickly slushed their way through the cold water and to the other bank. The mud slid under Ash’s feet as Billy pushed her up the embankment. He then clawed his way up after her.
Covered in mud, he grabbed her hand and they ran into the line of trees.
A few glints of light shone through the trees. Billy slowed and motioned for Ash to move behind a pine. He took a few steps forward and slid around another tree. He saw the warm shadows dancing from torches nearby. He studied them for over a minute until he realized that they were heading right toward them.
“Dang it,” he murmured to himself.
He returned to Ash and tugged her behind him.
A whorl of flame passed right in front of him, and he dodged back against Ashley. A large, muscular man with a goatee tied in a braid held a torch and he prepared to swing it at Billy again. In his other hand was a dagger with a dragon-shaped handle.
“They’re here!” the man yelled.
Distant voices answered.
Billy jerked forward and the man swung the torch at him. Billy ducked, then jumped up, lunging forward until his fist found the man’s chin. The man winced and swung the torch again. As the man lost his balance, Billy leaned in and hit the man in the temple. The man’s eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the ground, his kilt flipping up to reveal white briefs underneath.
Billy grabbed Ash’s hand and they ran. Three other men ran after them. They were all slender with streaks of dried blood on their brow, and they began “whooping” and shrieking as they neared.
“Keep going,” Billy said to Ash as he let her hand go
Billy slowed his pace, but before he swiveled to attack the three men, he noticed another figure ahead of Ash.
“This way!” the figure shouted.
The Dogbowl
The pimply teenagers who worked the cutting boards and deep fryers snickered to each other as Nick the Lion
passed through the kitchen and out the back door. They loved when Nick fought with Brian.
Lawyers, construction workers and out-of-work scenesters chatted casually with Brian in the dining area as they munched on overpriced veggie wraps. They were all trying to pry out any little bit of information to confirm rumors that Jim Jacobs would actually be at the reunion show. They had to leave the Dogbowl with something to feed to their hungry hipster friends.
The seniors’ ballroom dance class let out early next door. The official reason was due to illness. The real reason was the owner saw Nick, and knew enough about him that she didn’t want her students anywhere near him. She hoped he would get what he was there to get and be gone. They rarely saw Nick in the Dogbowl, but whenever they did, something bad always happened.
The prostitutes, on the other hand, recognized it would be a good day for vice. The Lions were fighting for dominance. Working women, normally dormant during the day, emerged when they heard Nick was in town. They waited in the wings in case Nick needed to work out his frustrations.
The dustmites, the lowliest workers of the commune, were muttering that someone or another heard from someone that they heard a ruckus through Brian’s door. Nick and Brian, two of the four Lions of the Jim Jacobs cult, were fighting over money this time.
The two men spent the day angling and posturing, throwing around compliments, money and favors to all those around to buy loyalty. Everyone assumed, including the Lions, the fight would be resolved, Nick would leave and the next day it would all be forgotten.
Even the Songbird knew of the impending conflict and her beady, sweaty eyes could be seen peering through the blinds toward the deli. She wouldn’t benefit from the Lion’s squabble directly, but she was always thrilled by the novelty of real-life drama.
The Coward was perhaps the only resident in the Dogbowl unaware of the conflict. He was gorgeous, and like most beautiful people, he had no need to understand things that did not directly affect him. If he were not attractive, he would be called stupid, or perhaps just “simple” by the more polite. He was stunning though, with high cheekbones and big, blue eyes that gazed like a baby’s. Many women and men fell in love with those eyes, and some thought it was a shame that such beautiful eyes were so completely unaware.
The Coward sauntered downstairs, looking out at the people. The lunch crowd had thinned and Brian sat at a table with a skeletally thin man wearing oversized glasses and tight jeans. The slender man co-owned a record store, but the Coward didn’t know any more about him, or particularly care to. He liked the other owner, Marcus, much better anyway. The Coward didn’t feel as stupid when talking to Marcus and Marcus always seemed interested in what the Coward had to say.
The Coward made his way to the table and sat dutifully next to Brian. The Coward knew how much Brian liked to be seen with him. The Coward thought it was funny to watch Vader seethe from jealousy.
The Coward loved Brian like a father, and because he loved him so, it was okay that Brian loved him back in a totally different way.
“Where’s Marcus?” the Coward asked listlessly.
“He had to go down to Dallas for a funeral,” the wiry man answered.
“That’s too bad,” the Coward replied. Brian gave the Coward a side glance that should have meant something to the Coward, but it didn’t. “Well, how are you?”
“Fine.”
“Our friend is trying to get the goods on the show,” Brian smirked, sliding his hand onto the Coward’s leg. It made the Coward feel safe. He could hear Vader grunt from across the room and walk into the kitchen.
“Well, tell him then,” the Coward grinned.
Brian gave one breathy chuckle.
“You see, we’re just not sure,” Brian said. “The Prophet is a bit unpredictable.”
“You told me last night that …” the Coward began, but Brian dug his fingernails into the Coward’s thigh, silencing the boy.
The wiry man smirked before being distracted by Nick striding downstairs grumbling into a cell phone. Nick gave Brian a cold glance and then continued on into the kitchen toward the back door. Nick threw open the door and emerged outside where women were watching from various corners and windows. They were waiting for the time to pounce.
“Calm yourself,” a voice buzzed through the phone. “It is a small thing.”
“Bullshit,” Nick snarled. “I’m not wasting any more of my goddamn time here waiting for that prick to decide that he’s ready to talk to me. I’ve got plenty of product and I can find other people more than happy to take it off my hands.”
Nick turned off the phone and jammed it into his pocket.
“What’s the matter, baby?” a female voice cooed.
Through the cracks in a wooden fence next to the deli, Nick could see slivers of a woman stalking toward him. She came to the end of the fence and a chubby face with pillowy lips poked out the other side. Her marble white skin rose to a wrinkled smile.
“Not much now,” Nick grinned. “It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, baby,” the woman said, approaching Nick. From around the other corners of the deli, women were converging. They slunk toward Nick like alley cats to a discarded fish.
“Hey, I don’t have that much time right now,” Nick said. “I’ve got to get asshole in there to give me an answer.”
“Hmm,” the pale woman hummed, her voice broken by the crackle all smokers get over time. She leaned against him and slid her hands up his chest. “Well, you just hurry in and hurry right back out then.”
Nick arched his eyebrow and pulled away. The women around the corner all bit their lips, arched their backs and stared Nick down. He merely waved them away as he strode toward the deli entrance.
“Brian!” Nick growled, as he walked in. “We are going to talk now!”
“Are we?” Brian replied coyly, then winking at the record shop owner.
“I’ll talk to you later,” the owner said uncomfortably, as he turned from the table and retreated to the door.
“Nick, I just don’t think you are in the right mind set to have a productive conversation,” Brian said, as he watched the door close. “You are welcome to sit with us, and when you can calm yourself, we will discuss your proposal.”
Brian pushed a chair out with his foot, but Nick grabbed it and threw it behind him. A skinny girl in an apron grabbed the chair and quickly replaced it without raising her eyes to anyone in the deli.
“Oh, Brian,” the Coward chimed. “We found you a present, Misty and I.”
“Don’t ignore me,” Nick warned, but he’d already lost his audience.
“Misty!” the Coward called, as he hopped up and trotted across the deli to the stairs. Misty’s head popped out from a door upstairs. “Bring it out.”
Misty nodded her head and disappeared again. The Coward returned to the table and slid his chair closer to Brian. Vader emerged from the kitchen and picked up a magazine to demonstrate that he wasn’t interested.
“We hit three houses before we finally found it,” the Coward said.
Brian looked over the Coward skeptically.
“What all did you take?” Brian asked.
The Coward feigned insult like a guilty four year old.
“Just this—it’s for the icon,” the Coward replied.
Brian cocked his head.
“That’s all!” the Coward insisted.
The Coward ignored Brian’s judgmental sigh and instead hugged him and whispered, “You’re going to love it, you’ll be so proud of me.”
Brian patted him on the shoulder and watched Misty descend with something small, thin and rectangular wrapped in newspaper. The workers all heard the commotion and gathered around.
Misty handed the present to Brian and he smiled.
“You should live in such a place as this,” Brian grinned at Nick.
Brian unwrapped the present as the Coward leaned in on him. A gleaming silver tray emerged from underneath the paper.
“It’s for the
icon to sit on, when we give it back to the Prophet,” the Coward beamed.
“You’re right,” Brian smiled. “I am proud of you.”
Brian leaned over and kissed the Coward on the forehead.
“And, thank you too, Misty,” Brian said. He looked down at the tray and thumbed the engraved design of farmers planting seeds in soil.
“It’s probably fake silver,” Vader grunted. “It’ll probably turn the icon green.”
“Always so negative,” Brian chuckled, as he examined the tray.
“Can we bring it out and put it on there?” the Coward asked.
Brian studied him with an admiring smile.
“Yes,” Brian conceded finally.
The Coward leapt from his chair and ran up the stairs. Brian glanced over at Nick and winked. The Coward soon came trotting back down the stairs with a small blue box. He knelt down beside Brian and held the box up. Brian carefully opened the box and lifted a razor blade out. It clinked when he sat it on the tray, and all the workers crowded around to see it.
“Jesus,” Nick mumbled.
“I think this calls for ice cream,” Brian announced, standing up and handing the tray to Misty. “Vader, close up the shop and let’s get ice cream. Put the icon in my room.”
“Ice cream?” the Coward pouted. “I don’t want any.”
Brian rolled his eyes and walked away. Nick stood up and followed Brian upstairs, both growling and nagging like an old married couple. The workers all buzzed, threw off aprons and washed their hands. Misty carefully carried the tray upstairs.
The Coward sat back and regretted missing ice cream. The Coward knew that Brian liked to treat him to delicacies, but also knew that every time the Coward gained weight, Brian would say mean things about him in front of the others. The Coward wanted Brian much more than he ever wanted ice cream.
Brian reemerged with a fly swatter and a hat with netting hanging over his face and the workers all filed to the door. He led them out like a family of ducks. Nick studied the Coward.
The Dominant Hand Page 16
