Hell and Back

by Patricia Blackmoor

  I pointed at the flier. “You’re missing.”

  “I understand that part, but why am I missing? I’m supposed to be dead. I am dead. At least, I’m clearly not alive.”

  “They haven’t found your body yet then, I suppose.”

  “I tried to make it so obvious,” he said, slumping against the counter. “I went to the park. I was right in the middle of everything when they came for me. I should have been found right away, or at least, within a few hours.”

  “Is it possible that because you made a deal, they took you, both body and soul?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I have no idea. I never thought to ask; they just said I’d go to hell, so I assumed that I’d be dying and leaving a body behind. If I had known…”

  Parker stumbled over to the living room, sinking down on the couch. He rubbed at his temples with his hands. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Parker,” I said, my voice soft as I rubbed his back, “I don’t know that there’s anything we can do.”

  He looked ready to cry, and I was sure he would have if he could have. “I gave up my life so that I could give them a future,” he said. “I had it all planned out. I’d die, and they’d get the money I left behind.”

  “I know.”

  “How long...” He swallowed. “How long do you have to be missing before you’re presumed dead?”

  “I have no idea,” I said. “Especially because we’re dealing with insurance companies, and you know how they are.”

  “I can’t believe I did this to them,” he said. “They’re my family and I simply abandoned them.”

  I shook my head. “No, no. You gave them seven years with you. Seven years where they had food on the table and were raised by a brother who loved them and cared for them. That’s more than some people get.”

  “But was it worth it?”

  “Of course it was.”

  He scoffed. “Twenty thousand dollars. That’s how much I had in savings, and they may never see a cent of it. I could have used that money on a down payment for a house so they don’t have to live here anymore. Instead it’s just going to sit in the bank.”

  “No. I mean, I’m sure eventually they’ll give it to your sister.”

  “But when? By the time my sister gets that money, it could be too late. They’ll have the electricity turned off, they’ll get evicted, they’ll starve to death before the bank pays out the twenty thousand in my savings.”

  “You can’t think like that,” I told him. “You can’t go back to hell thinking that.”

  “I don’t know how I can go back at all with them living like this.”

  It was exactly what I had been worried about, but I didn’t have time to respond because we heard the sound of the door opening.

  Both Parker and I turned to see a young woman come in with two younger boys by her side. Even in the dim light I could tell the girl was stunning. Her skin was several shades darker than Parker’s; I remembered him telling me they had different fathers, but she had the same full lips and long lashes Parker did. Her hair was done in several little braids that fell around her shoulders as she corralled her brothers inside.

  The boys could have been twins if they had been the same height. Their skin was the same beautiful dark shade as their sister’s, but their hair was cut short just like their brother’s had been. I had expected a ten- and twelve-year-old to be full of energy, but instead they were quiet as they came in.

  “Hope, was that man okay?” the younger one asked.

  Hope flashed him a tight smile. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

  “But he fell asleep on the stairs.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine, AJ.”

  “Should we help him?”

  “No!” her voice came out sharp, and she took a deep breath.

  “Parker always says we should help people,” the older boy said.

  “You’re sweet,” she told both boys. “But most of the time when an adult needs help, they have to get it from other adults, not kids.”

  “You’re an adult,” said AJ.

  “Yeah, but I got you two to take care of,” she said, ushering them further inside so she could shut the door.

  I turned to Parker. “They’re so sweet,” I told him.

  He smiled. “I did my best.”

  “I’d say your best was pretty damn good.”

  I watched as AJ poked his head in each room. “Parker?” he called out. After a moment he returned to the living room, head down. “He’s not here.”

  My heart ached as his sister crossed the room and gave him a hug. He looked up at her. “Is he ever coming back?”

  “Of course he is,” Hope said, but her eyes held doubt and pain.

  “Did he leave because he doesn’t like us anymore?” the other boy asked.

  “Avery, we’ve been over this,” Hope said. “Of course not. He loves us so much.”

  “Do you think he’s hurt somewhere?” AJ asked.

  “I’m sure he’s just fine.”

  “Then where is he?”

  I forced myself to turn to look at Parker, and when I did, my heart broke a little bit more. He held a look of absolute devastation across his face. I pulled him in for a hug.

  “They love you so much,” I said.

  He shook his head. “They have no idea. They think I’m still alive.”

  “They’re kids,” I said. “They’re just...optimistic.”

  “I made the wrong choice,” he said as he watched them.

  “No, no, Parker. Come on, don’t say that. We talked about this. You gave them seven great years, remember?”

  “They could have been better. I could have been better.”

  I reached up and put my hand against his face. “Don’t think like that. You can’t think like that. You were only doing what you thought was best.”

  “It wasn’t enough.”

  I took his hands. “Stop. You can’t beat yourself up over this.”

  A cell phone rang. Hope looked at the phone, a clunky model that had to be years old. She glanced from the screen to her brothers. “You guys go play, all right?”

  “With what? We don’t have a TV anymore,” Avery said.

  Hope gave them a stern look. “You have a brain filled with endless imagination. Use it.”

  They scattered to their bedroom while she gave the phone a long look and sighed. “Hello?”

  Parker and I exchanged a look.

  Hope sighed. “Yes, yes. I understand. But my brother…” She rubbed at her temple. “No, I get it. I promise, I’m trying. I’ll have it to you as soon as possible. No, I don’t know exactly when.”

  She swallowed, tears springing to her eyes. “I’m doing the best I can. Please, I’m doing everything I can. Yes. I understand.”

  Hope sank down onto the chair, brushing tears away from her face. Her hands shook as she dialed a new number on her phone, holding it up to her ear.

  “Hi, could I speak to Chief Quill? It’s Hope Cole. Yes, I’ll hold.”

  She pinched her lips together as Parker and I watched her. She brushed a few more tears away from her face, trying to find her composure before she was connected.

  “Hi, Chief Quill? It’s Hope Cole,” she said. “I was wondering if there was anything new about my brother? Yeah, I figured, it’s just been really hard—no, I get it. I know. I understand, but you don’t know him. He would never do that to us. I promise.”

  Parker shook his head angrily. “Do they really think I left them? Abandoned my family?”

  I shrugged. “Could be a racist thing. I’ve heard a lot of stereotypes about black men leaving their families. And you know that the police aren’t known for being the most colorblind.”

  Parker scoffed. “It’s such a joke. My dad was white, didn’t stop him from leaving us. It’s not color, it’s personality that turns you into a shitty parent.”

  “My parents were always present, but they were still pretty shitty,” I commented.

  “Ba
d parents come in all forms.”

  “No, you listen to me!” We turned our attention back to Hope, who was yelling into the phone. “My brother would never have just left us, which means he’s either dead, or he’s in a position where he can’t get back to us. Either way you need to find him!” Angrily, Hope hung up the phone and tossed it across the room. It was a good thing it was basically a brick, because a toss like that would have shattered my iPhone.

  “Do you really think he’s dead?” asked a small voice, and we turned to see Avery lingering in the doorway of the hallway.

  Hope bit her lip and shook her head, brushing tears away with the back of her hand. “No, of course I don’t. I was only saying that to get the chief to do something.”

  “But you’re worried about him.”

  She smiled. “I worry about all you guys. You’re my brothers. My family.” She opened her arms wide and Avery came to meet her, giving her a tight hug.

  In my arms, Parker was shaking. I looked over at him to see his head buried in his hands, crying with dry tears. I pulled him in close to me and he rested his head against my shoulder.

  AJ came from down the hallway. “I think Parker was here,” he said.

  Hope gave a soft sigh before turning to face him. “What do you mean, AJ?”

  “I think he came back.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just feel it.”

  Hope rested her head against Avery’s. “Can you go make sure he’s okay?”

  Avery nodded, jumping off the chair and taking his brother’s hand.

  “Your brothers really are so sweet,” I said. “My sisters and I never got along like that.”

  “When you grow up without parents, you learn to band together.”

  “I don’t think it’s just that. I think it’s because they were raised by someone who loved them so much.” I gave him a nudge.

  He shook his head. “If I loved them, really loved them, I would have planned better.”

  “Hey,” I said for what felt like the millionth time. “You have got to stop beating yourself up about this.”

  “But I—”

  “We can go in circles as many times as you want, but that’s not going to change anything. It won’t change that fact that everything you did for them, you did out of immense love and care. Maybe things didn’t work out the way you originally planned, but you had good intentions.”

  Parker scoffed. “And what do they say about the road to hell?”

  I grasped his hand. “Please, please, go easy on yourself,” I said. “Don’t torture yourself over this. It hurts me to see you like this.”

  “It hurts me to see them like this,” Parker said, gesturing to his sister. Her head was buried in her hands, body racked with sobs.

  Parker shook his head. “I need to get some air.”

  He stood up from the couch and hurried across the room to the apartment door. I paused for a moment before rushing after him. I wasn’t trying to sound insensitive; I knew how hard it was for him to see his family in such dire straits. But I was concerned about him, killing himself, beating himself up over something that he couldn’t help. It hurt to watch him blame himself and for him to think that all the sacrifices he made for his family were for nothing.

  Before I left the apartment, I took one look back. I took in the sparse furniture, the empty kitchen, the pile of bills, the “Missing” posters, and the broken siblings that Parker had left behind. This wasn’t my family. I had never even met these people. But they were the one thing in the world that Parker cared about. Somehow, we had to help them.

  I leaned against the door frame. We needed to make things better for these dear, sweet siblings before we were dragged back to hell, but I had no idea how to do that. They would always mourn their brother, but ninety percent of their problems could be conquered with money. If, somehow, Parker’s body could be found, then Hope would get the money he had left behind. But we had no idea where his body was, or if it was even a tangible, physical body anymore. Even the twenty thousand dollars he had in the bank would be helpful, but there was no way to withdraw that. I pursed my lips in frustration. Just twenty thousand in the bank could fix almost everything…

  I froze. How could I have been so stupid? In the chaos of the last twenty-four hours, after the messed-up seance and our night of passion in the hotel, I had completely forgotten the reason I had wanted to come here in the first place. I had the answer.

  I ran from the apartment, down the hallway and the stairs, past the apartments blaring music and the transient who had replaced the overdosed druggie from earlier and out into the bright sunlight. I found Parker standing on the sidewalk, hands on his knees, breathing heavily as he tried to take control of himself.

  “Parker!” I called out and he turned to face me. He must have seen the look of excitement on my face, because he twisted in confusion.

  “I have the answer,” I said. “All that money we stole from the banks… I want to give it to your sister. I want her to have it. We just have to get it to her.”

  “Okay,” he said, nodding. “Okay. How?”

  I paused. “I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  We walked in relative silence. We weren’t going in any particular direction, at least as far as I could tell, but I wasn’t from this part of town and I could be walking almost anywhere. I simply followed behind Parker and let him guide me wherever he felt like he needed to go. I just wanted him to make sense of everything before we began to work out how we were going to get his sister and family the money that they so desperately needed.

  I was excited. Almost ecstatic, trembling with anticipation. I felt like a secret agent on a mission, ready to take on the entire world.

  There was a lot to figure out. So much to figure out, and I was anxious to begin with. We had no idea how much time we had before the demons came for us, no idea when we would be dragged back to hell to be tortured for all eternity. We had maybe one shot at this, so we needed to sit down and figure it out as soon as possible.

  But Parker was still reeling from everything, and I didn’t want to add on to what he was dealing with. My plan was to stay silent until he spoke, and he hadn’t done that since we left the apartment building behind and began our stroll down the streets of what could be considered the inner city of Minneapolis.

  I tried not to look at Parker. Earlier in our walk I’d kept glancing at him, but I could tell that those looks were making him nervous. I was trying to give him all the space he needed, but I longed for the touch, for the conversation we had been deprived of from our time in hell. Even just to reach down, grab his hand, feel his skin on mine, that would have made all the difference in the world, but I resisted the urge. He needed to be ready.

  We continued down the sidewalk, passing through a busier area of town where the stores had signs in Spanish or Somali rather than English. I’d driven through here before; it was like its own little village in the middle of the bustling city, each subculture with their own daycares and clothing shops and grocery stores with foods that had the right dietary restrictions and needs. I’d never walked through here, bumping shoulders with those who lived in the neighborhood and spoke the languages and cooked the food. It was an odd experience. I wasn’t used to being the minority, and the blend of cultures was astounding.

  “It’s so cool,” I breathed, not meaning to speak.

  Parker turned to me. “You’ve never been through here before?”

  I shook my head. “I’ve only driven through. There’s so much going on here. The culture is thriving; it’s amazing.”

  He chuckled. “Not everyone would see it the same way you do,” he said. “There’s a lot of people who don’t think they belong here.”

  “Really?”

  “Don’t you watch the news?”

  “It stresses me out,” I said, embarrassed.

  “Let’s just say a small but vocal part of the po
pulation doesn’t feel like they should be here.”

  “Well, that’s ridiculous.”

  “Yeah, especially since a lot of them are escaping war and poverty. Minneapolis is a sanctuary city. A lot are refugees who left everything.”

  “I wish there was a way to have my old clothes and stuff donated to these people,” I said. “I mean, I don’t have a use for them anymore.”

  “That’s really kind,” he said to me.

  I paused, pursing my lips. “Yeah, it kind of is.”

  “As is offering to give your money to my sister and brothers.”

  We had turned down a side street and wandered into a park. Somali children ran around the sand and grass, and Parker and I sat on a bench to watch their fun.

  “You’re still hesitant about it,” I said.

  “Yeah.”

  “But I don’t understand why.”

  “It’s…” he breathed out a sigh as he thought. “It’s dirty money.”

  I considered. “I get that. And look, I know it’s...dirty, but let’s be real. There are three things that can happen to that money. One, it stays buried until someone decides to dig up that tree in the future. Two, Mitchell finds it, which is way worse. Or three, we get it to your sister and brothers and they’re set for the near future, which is way better.”

  “What if the money is traced back to her?”

  “I don’t think it could be. I guess I don’t know for sure. But there has to be security cameras at the bank, and she doesn’t look at all like the real robbers.”

  “Even if I trust you with that, how on earth are we supposed to get it to her?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that,” I said, sighing as I leaned back on the bench. “The easiest answer, obviously, would be to just bring it over and drop it off at the apartment.”

  “But that wouldn’t work.”

  “No, not really. First, I’d have to find a shovel, then be able to grasp it long enough to dig it up. And even if I could do that, then I’d have to be able to carry the bag across town. And even if I could do that, then there’s the issue of somebody no stealing a floating bag of money.”