Bill and the Sting of Death

by Gary McPherson

  Carol strolled back towards the farmhouse and gave him a finger wave over her shoulder.

  Bill looked up at the sky, “Thank you.”

  ***

  Carol wrapped her arms around Bill’s waist and pressed her body against his back. “I still can’t believe we’re living in Malibu.”

  Bill attempted to comb through his wavy locks and miss his wife’s head. He gave up on his hair and reached back and held his wife. After a few moments, she stepped back, moved over to her sink, and began to touch up her makeup.

  “You know, your brother’s place still intimidates me.”

  Bill glanced over at her in the mirror. “Intimidates you? How do you figure?”

  “He has servants.”

  Bill rolled his eyes. “Please, he has a big house. Besides, he sponsored the family. They were stuck at the border. Now they have an income, a place to live, and their child is in school. Who knows what would’ve happened with the pandemic and everything.”

  Carol turned to Bill. “I know. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. It’s just, well, this is the sort of thing I fought against in college. You know, the one percent, but Harold has me all twisted up. He’s got all this money, but he shares it with his workers at the company and at home. He wants people to succeed, to be happy. That just isn’t how I pictured the wealthy.”

  Bill asked, “What did you think they were like?”

  Carol finished her lips and tossed her makeup back in the sink drawer. “You know, grumpy white guys. Like the guys you see on your finance cable channels.”

  “Well, those guys exist purely for the cash. Harold sees money as a tool, not an end. He wants to make his part of the world better.”

  Carol asked, “Are there others like him?”

  Bill turned and slipped his arms around Carol. “There’s good and bad everywhere, honey.”

  She ran the tip of her fingernail down the bridge of his nose. “Well, you treat me good, and I’ll be bad for you later.”

  Bill shivered.

  Carol turned to leave, “Good boy.”

  The two made their way from their hillside home above Harold’s estate. They walked across the small two-lane road, and through the arched entryway to Harold’s front door. The California sun shown brightly on the front of the Spanish estate. Bill reached over and rang the doorbell.

  Harold hollered from somewhere inside, “I’ve got that.”

  The sound of heavy footsteps jogging grew louder. They stopped just on the other side of the door, but nothing happened for a moment. Bill looked over at Carol, smiled, and hit the doorbell again.

  The door flew open.

  Harold said, “Billy, Carol, you two look lovely. Please come in.”

  Bill replied, “Harry. I hope you aren’t too out of breath on our account.”

  Harold slapped Bill’s back, “I could use the exercise.”

  They followed Harold out of the foyer, through the living room, and out to the patio. The grill was smoking, and Harold rushed over, lifted the lid, and flipped the rows of burgers attempting to burn.

  The door opened behind them, and Darla and Sofia came out. Darla pointed Sofia to Bill and Carol. She handed each of them a beer.

  “Thank you,” said Carol.

  “Yes, thank you,” responded Bill.

  “It is my pleasure.”

  Darla pointed at the round table where place settings had already been arranged. “Harold, you, Bill, and Carol need to have a seat. Sofia, please finish making lunch.”

  Harold and Bill looked at each other, and then Carol. Bill looked back at Darla and noticed a manila envelope she had managed to keep partially hidden next to her khaki shorts. Harold sat, Bill and Carol did the same.

  Darla held up the envelope. “Garcia sent this to me. It’s information about your mother.”

  Bill asked, “What sort of information?”

  Darla extended the envelope to Bill, “Take a look.”

  Harold asked, “How long have you had that?”

  Darla answered, “Garcia called and told me I had a package for you and Bill. I picked it up at my P.O. Box today.”

  “Why do you think I’d want it?” asked Harold.

  “I’m just the messenger.”

  Bill spoke up, “Harry, what do you want to do. Read it, or burn it?”

  “Let’s read it, and then maybe we’ll burn it.”

  Bill nodded as he tore open the envelope and pulled out the piece of paper.

  Harold asked, “Well, what does it say?”

  Bill looked up, “Sorry.

  “Basically, it’s a list of aliases she went by. Let’s see, April, Star, Silver, and Alice.”

  “Alice,” said Harold.

  Bill and Harold looked up at Darla.

  She said, “Don’t look at me. I wasn’t involved in any of this.”

  Harold asked, “Is our mom CIA?”

  Darla answered, “If she’s with the agency, I’ve never met her. Bill, you said those are aliases. Does it list her real name?”

  Bill glanced over the sheet of paper, “Rachael Bell.”

  Darla said, “Never heard of her.”

  Harold asked, “Bill, is there anything else?”

  Bill nodded, “Some places she lived. Let’s see, northern California, and then Alabama, but it ends there.”

  “Did she die?” asked Carol.

  Bill shook his head, “It doesn’t say anything. It just ends there. Oh, and I have your real name, Harry.”

  Harold bristled, “Harold is my real name.”

  “Your born name. The name they changed.”

  Darla asked, “What is it?”

  “Thomas Bell.”

  Harold started to laugh. Bill cocked his head, “What’s so funny?”

  Darla answered while Harold got control of himself, “You’ve met his best friend, Tom.”

  Harold spoke up, “Yea, I was just picturing the look on his face if he knew I was Tom too.”

  Bill flipped the page over. It was blank.

  Harold asked, “That’s it?”

  Bill nodded, “Looks like it. That was a big build-up to nothing.”

  Harold turned to Darla, “Why did Garcia send this? He always has a reason.”

  “He didn’t share it with me. Maybe he wanted you boys to understand a little more about your mother. I’m guessing she was in California, so she could be closer to you when you were having problems. She probably moved back towards the south in hopes of reuniting with Bill one day.”

  Bill tossed the paper on the table, “Possibly. Well, if she’s still alive, I wish her the best.”

  Harold added, “So do I. I hope life was kinder to her than it was to Hunter.”

  Bill grabbed his beer bottle and tilted it towards Harold, “I’ll drink to that.”

  Bill took a swallow and then put the bottle back down. “Now, what about that food?”

  Carol spoke up, “Wait. You mean you’re going to drop it just like that? Doesn’t your mother mean anything to you?”

  Bill answered, “Sure, but that’s in the past. I didn’t really know her. Harold’s real mother passed away. We both appreciate what April, or Rachael, or whatever she went by, did for us. But if I’ve learned anything lately, it’s that we can’t dwell in the past.”

  Bill reached over and took Carol’s hand. Then he grabbed Harold’s as well. “This is our family now. I don’t know what the future holds, but we need to push forward with the path God’s given us, and I’m thankful to be on the journey with all of you.”

  Bill dropped his grip, and Carol leaned over, wrapped her arms around Bill, and said, “To our family.”

  She gave Bill a lengthy kiss. His world lit up, and his head felt light. The warm California sun sparkled brightly off of the unending ocean. The smell of meat beginning to burn wafted across his nostrils, and Harold jumped up and ran to the grill.

  New Mexico

  Rachael pushed open the worn screen door on her faded gray double-wide. The af
ternoon winds had started to move east across the plateau in Torrance County. She stepped down into the fenced backyard and began to throw out the chickens’ daily ration of food.

  “Here chick, chick, chick,”

  The biddies moved in mass towards the feed that was being spread before Rachael’s feet. The back door to the trailer creaked opened, and Rachael reached inside her can, grabbed a pistol, and brought it to bear as she turned on her heel and allowed the can and feed to spill to the ground.

  “Oh, Preacher Man. You can get yourself killed sneaking up on me.” Exclaimed Rachael as an audible sigh escaped behind her words.

  “Preacher Man. I haven’t heard that from you in a long time. I tried knocking, but nobody answered.”

  “What brings you to the middle of nowhere? I hope you haven’t lost the faith.”

  The man adjusted the cowboy hat that he was clearly not comfortable wearing. “You know me better than that, Alice. My faith is what keeps me in this nasty business.”

  “I’ve told you before, call me by my name.”

  The man mumbled, “This is official business.”

  Rachael’s neatly trimmed eyebrows rose, “Since when are we official business?”

  She turned back to the chickens gorging themselves. Rachael fought to retrieve some of the feed and dropped the gun back into the can with a clang. She spoke loudly to the man behind her. “And take off those sunglasses. I’ve missed looking into your eyes.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The man said as he reached up and removed his sunglasses. “It’s been a long time.”

  Rachael turned to face him. “This was your idea, remember? Stay away from the boys. Stay apart until the danger passed. How many years have I waited?”

  “Too many.”

  Rachael bumped past him and made her way back inside her mobile home. The dust from the afternoon winds had penetrated the screened doors and windows and created a soft tan haze throughout the house. Rachael sat down on her couch and pointed at the other end of the sofa. He complied.

  Rachael took off her straw hat, and thick flowing raven locks fell below her shoulders.

  The man smiled and said, “My God, I’ve missed seeing your beautiful hair and looking into your sparkling blue eyes.”

  Rachael smiled, and the two sat there staring at each other without saying a word. It felt like several minutes had passed before she spoke.

  “Garcia.”

  “Yes.”

  “Are we just going to sit here like we just met?”

  Garcia sighed, “Business before pleasure, my bride. I need to give you my debrief.”

  Rachael nodded, “Did Bill ever ask about me?”

  “He only wants to know why you left him a prisoner in the orphanage. Harold wants to know if you’re still alive, but only for Bill’s sake.”

  “Did you send Darla the envelope?”

  Garcia nodded.

  “Did Darla tell you what they said?”

  Garcia cleared his throat. “I’m not sure you’ll like this. They toasted to your memory. Both of the boys have moved on after that ugly business and are focusing on the future.”

  A tear trickled down Rachael’s cheek. “It’s for the best, at least for now.”

  “Why?” asked Garcia.

  “They’re not ready. I’m not ready.”

  Garcia responded, “The longer you wait, the less ready you’ll be. I know I pushed you to stay away from the boys, but that time has passed. Hunter’s dead, and his terrorist cells splintered. They aren’t in any danger.”

  Rachael stood up and started to pace. “Don’t you see? They don’t need me.”

  Garcia stood, wrapped his arms around her waist, and held her tight, “But I need you, and I need our son.”

  Rachael smiled at him, and she could swear their bodies were tingling together. She pushed back from him and said, “There it is. You want to tell Bill. What do you think he’ll do when he finds out the man involved in bringing death and destruction to his life is actually his dad?”

  Garcia protested, “You can’t lay that on me. That was all Chuck. I protected our son.”

  Rachael walked up, gave Garcia a gentle kiss on the cheek, and spoke softly. “I know that, but how do you think Bill will see it, or Harold for that matter? The agent sent to protect his family is actually his stepfather?”

  Garcia answered, “That’s not how Harold thinks. Richard and Barbara were his parents, full stop. So, what are you saying? We have to hide and lie to the boys the rest of our lives?”

  Rachael moved back to the couch and pointed Garcia to the spot beside her. He complied. She said, “Look, you’re the one who recruited me into the agency. You told me at the time that I would have to make a lot of personal sacrifices, and it was worth it to me to stop Hunter.

  “I’m not saying we can never tell the boys I’m alive.”

  Garcia’s face grew tight. “Bill needs to know his heritage. He isn’t just a Berserker. The blood of Aztec super warriors runs in his veins. He is a Shorn One, just like my ancestors. Bill needs training like Harold. Counseling can only do so much without discipline.”

  Rachael answered, “I’m just saying that now isn’t the time.

  “Bill just started his new family. Harold finally has his company in some semblance of order. Darla has been rewarded with watching her own family stateside while she gets some downtime. I’m not going to interfere in any of that. We’ll tell them but give our boys time to breathe.”

  Garcia’s shoulders slumped, “You’re right, as usual.”

  Rachael smiled, “That’s why I’m the boss at home and at work.”

  Garcia raised his index finger, “About that. With Alice’s passing, I’ve been promoted. We’re peers now.”

  Rachael’s eyes widened, “I see. Well, don’t let that give you any ideas.”

  Garcia leaned into her body, “What kind of ideas.”

  Rachael’s eyes sparkled, “I know we’ve been apart too long, but I didn’t’ say we were through talking.”

  Garcia began to push her backward with his body. Rachael shoved him off the couch, and he landed on his back on the floor. She leaped and straddled his body while she pinned down his arms. “Did I say the meeting was adjourned?”

  Garcia bucked and rolled her off him and got on top of her. “No, I did.”

  Rachael wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed. Garcia winced, gasped, and collapsed to the floor when Rachael released him. She straddled his body once more. “It’s adjourned when I say so.”

  She dove down and kissed Garcia hard. He could taste blood and wondered whose lip was cut. She sat up, “Now it’s adjourned.”