Father

by Clarissa Wild

  I glare ahead, not even giving a shit whether he’s looking at me or not. It’s a lost cause. I can’t change anything about my fate anymore. He can’t do anything more to me to hurt me. He made the deal. Gave me my dying wish. And now I’ve surrendered to God.

  I’m untouchable.

  “Aren’t you even a little bit scared?”

  “No.”

  At first, he seems confused, but then he laughs again. “You motherfucker.” He spits on my face, but I keep on staring ahead. I will not lose my dignity to this man. I will go down like a soldier. Like I should’ve done all along. All those years wasted on liquor and sorrow. No more.

  “Can you believe this shithead?” Julio jests, looking at his men.

  They gaze up and momentarily stop digging. “No,” one of them replies. “He’s crazy.”

  A pause, followed by Julio frowning and yelling, “What the fuck are you doing? Get back to work!”

  “Uh, yes, boss,” the other one says, sweating like crazy as they both continue to dig without speaking another word.

  “Now, where were we? Oh … that’s right. I was going to tell you how you’re going to die.” He grabs a cigar from his pocket, taking his sweet time to put it in his mouth and light it. “At first, I thought maybe I should just shoot the motherfucker and get over it. But then I realized that’s too easy. It’s too nice. And the man who killed my wife and took my daughter doesn’t deserve nice. So now you know … I’m not going to shoot you. No, your death will be much, much worse.”

  He takes a drag and blows the smoke in my face. “You know what’s going to happen to you?”

  A drop of rain falls on my face, and I look up at the sky to see a string of ducks fly by. Julio looks up too, and at this moment, I find my peace with whatever may come next.

  “Ducks … hmm …” he murmurs, taking another drag as he lowers his head to look at me again. “Strange animals, they are. Have you ever seen a duck being chased by a dog?”

  I don’t respond. I don’t even nod or shake my head. I’ve stopped caring.

  “Well, since you’re so interested, I’ll tell you anyway. You’d think the duck would fly away, right? But because of its panic, it will run across the street like an idiot.” He makes flapping motions with his hand, pretending to be the duck. “Until … the dog comes close enough, at which point …” Julio stiffens like a board. “The duck falls and plays dead in the hopes of being left as spoiled meat. A last ditch effort.” He smiles. “And you know what happens next?”

  Again, I don’t reply. I just stare at the men who seem to be done digging their hole as they stick their shovels in the dirt, panting out loud.

  “The duck still gets eaten,” Julio continues.

  I cock my head, giving him an annoyed look while he takes another drag and blows more smoke into my face. “The duck could’ve flown away, but it didn’t. Instead, it fluttered and crashed, running from its predator, until it died anyway. A futile death if you ask me,” he muses, sniggering like a crazy son of a bitch again.

  “It’s done,” one of the guys says, and Julio turns around to look at the hole.

  “Perfect. Put him in.”

  They grab my arms and drag me closer then shove me forward, so I land in the hole. I only manage to twist myself around before they start throwing dirt on my body.

  “Spare his face for last. I wanna hear his dying words. Maybe I can savor them like I did with his wife.”

  That familiar fire burns inside me again, but it’s too late to do anything right now.

  As he walks off, I yell, “You’ll meet your end, Julio.” He glances over his shoulder, waiting until I open my mouth again, which I do. “One way or another … you will die a lonely, horrible death, and no one will mourn over your corpse.”

  He narrows his eyes and his brows furrows, after which he laughs like a lunatic again. “Good joke.” He waves it off. “Go on, boys. Cover him up.”

  When the grave is filled with dirt all the way up to my neck, the guys stop shoveling and signal Julio. He waltzes back from his car with a brand new cigar stuffed in his mouth. He grins as he sees my uncovered face, blurting, “You almost look decapitated.”

  “Hmm … a talking head,” I murmur, spitting out some dirt that got into my mouth.

  “Now that would’ve been a sight to see,” he says, laughing, but then it grows eerily quiet. “Well, got any last words?”

  “I currently lack the ability to give a shit,” I reply, trying to move, but my body feels stuck as a rock. “But please have my imaginary finger.”

  He shakes his head, blowing out more smoke. “Such a shame. If only you’d been more remorseful, maybe I would’ve been more kind.” He takes his cigar from his mouth and signals his boys to throw more dirt on my face.

  “Too bad, preacher. See you in the next life. But first … I’ve got a certain old lady to take care of.”

  My eyes widen, and I shout, “What? No, you fucking wouldn’t. You took the deal. You swore you wouldn’t touch my family!”

  He shrugs and holds up his hands with a disgusting smile as he walks off. “I never said anything about her. Better say some prayers for your church, preacher,” he muses.

  “You can’t do this! She’s innocent!” I sputter as they throw more dirt on my head, but he doesn’t even turn around. “Don’t you fucking touch my mother! I swear to God, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your short, shitty life!” I roar.

  But no matter how hard I scream, he doesn’t come back.

  And the more steps he takes, the further my face is covered in dirt until I’m no longer able to speak.

  Fuck.

  Within a few seconds, the earth has covered me to the nose. I hold my breath.

  Three more shovels of dirt and I’m under.

  I hear their laughter as they walk away, and I’m praying to God to give me the strength to outlast my fear. I thought I was prepared. All these years I begged for the end. But now that the moment has finally arrived, I know for sure … I am not ready to die.

  28

  Ezekiel 37:13 – And you shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves, and raise you from your graves, O my people.

  One. Two. Three. Four.

  Breathe out.

  One. Two. Three. Four.

  One more breath leaves my mouth.

  I have little more to give, and the urge to gasp is almost taking over.

  But I refuse to swallow dirt. I’d rather suffocate than feel sand going down my throat.

  In silence, I pray to God to help me get through this. And for some reason, I can feel him with me. Right here, underneath the ground, close to me.

  One. Two. Three. Four.

  I count down the seconds, but each time, it’s getting worse.

  God, the pressure is so high.

  When I’m finally out of breath, I squeeze my lungs together, refusing to give in. A bright light shines through a tiny hole, and for a second there, I believe I’ve actually died and gone to heaven. God is coming to pick me up in true God-like style. I could almost hear the trumpets blare in my ear.

  Except when I open my eyes, it’s just a pair of lips screaming at me.

  That doesn’t look like God at all.

  That looks like …

  “Frank! Fuck, Frank.” Hands pull my head up from the dirt, and the moment my lips meet sweet air, I take a gulp and let the oxygen flow into my lungs.

  “Ric-card-do,” I stutter, sucking in air like an addict.

  “Fuck, dude, are you okay?” he asks, pulling my head out further.

  “Do I look like I’m okay?” I sneer. “Jesus, dude.”

  “Sorry, man, I’m just … not used to this type of shit.” He swallows.

  “Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you mess with the wrong people,” I say. “Help me out, will ya?”

  “What the fuck did you do to this guy to get him so pissed off?” he asks.

  “I killed his wife.”

  “Jesus, Frank! You c
ould’ve told me,” Rick says. “What if he was still here? He could’ve killed me too!”

  “He’s gone. Stop complaining and get me out of here.” I look down at my nonexistent body, which gives me the creeps.

  “Yeah, yeah, leave it to Rick to get your ass outta trouble. But you have to agree that my debt is paid then. Yes?”

  I roll my eyes. “Yes, fine, I already told you. Just get me out.”

  “All right,” he says, and he starts digging with his hand. “When you sent me that voicemail, I sure as hell thought you were playing a prank on me. You’re lucky my girl was there and told me you weren’t.”

  “Your girl?” I raise a brow.

  “Yeah, we’re kinda doing it you know … but we’re not back together or anything.”

  “Right …” I nod, frowning.

  “Hey, a man has needs. Like you don’t know that,” he retorts.

  “Rick, what you do in your own time is none of my damn business,” I reply.

  “Exactly,” he says.

  “But I am curious, though … you didn’t believe me, but she did?”

  “Yeah …” He shrugs. “Women, they can feel things, you know? Got this … fifth sense or something.”

  I chuckle. “Sixth sense.”

  “The movie?”

  “No.” I roll my eyes again. “Just keep digging.”

  “Yeah, but this ain’t getting me anywhere. Be right back. I think I got a shovel in the back of my car.” He gets up and starts running.

  “You’re saying that now?” I yell, but he doesn’t hear it.

  Goddamn, how I wish I had a megaphone right now.

  Being buried neck-deep in dirt is really shitty if you wanna talk to people and they keep running away from you. But I can’t complain. I’m already dead-happy he came for me.

  It was a crapshoot to leave him a voicemail from my car on the way here, but I knew it was the only thing I could do to make sure I’d come outta this alive. Call it a fail-safe.

  After I helped him take care of his child, Rick still owed me, so I told him the location and to bring a few guns as well as some water. I didn’t know what to expect. Julio’s known for his outlandish punishments to crime, so I had to be prepared. And phoning while driving ain’t easy or smart, I’ll tell you that. Almost hit a tree.

  Still, made it here … and I’m alive.

  Whether I’m also ‘well’ has yet to be seen, though. If this fucker can finally dig me up from the ground so I can save my mother before Julio kills her.

  When Ricardo’s back with the shovel, I tell him to do my feet first so he can drag my body out. It’s much quicker that way, and there’s no time to waste. He digs as fast as he can, sweat drops falling down his face as he toils. I know it’s hard in the burning sun, but we’ve got to be fast.

  “Put your whole body into it,” I bark, watching him struggle.

  “I know how to dig a damn hole, Frank,” he replies, still shoveling away.

  “He’s going to hurt Margaret,” I say. “We have to be fast.”

  “I’m going as fast as I can!” he shouts between digging.

  When my shoes finally emerge, I say, “There! Grab my feet and drag me out.”

  “But won’t that pull your head under?”

  “Yes, but if you pull hard enough, it’ll do the trick. I can hold my breath.”

  “But—”

  “Just do it,” I spit.

  He nods and grabs my feet. “One, two …”

  On three, I take in a load of air and slam my lips shut. He pulls me under, dragging me through the dirt. It’s agonizingly slow, and for a few seconds there, I worry he might not be able to pull it off. I can hear him groan as he puts all his weight into it, pulling as hard as he can, and slowly but surely, my head comes up again.

  I take a big gasp as he tugs me all the way out and rolls me onto my belly. “Untie my hands,” I say.

  He takes a knife from his pocket and slices through the rope, setting me free.

  I get off the ground and pat down my clothes then rub my wrists. “Goddamn, that feels good,” I say. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” he replies, tucking the knife back into his pocket. “So what now?”

  “Take me to the church,” I say, running toward his car.

  He grabs the shovel and runs after me.

  Ricardo throws the shovel in the trunk, and we hop into the car, chasing off.

  With haste, we make our way back to town. In the rearview mirror, I look at myself and brush the dirt out of my hair and straighten my jacket too. I look like a walking zombie, but at least I’m a zombie with flair.

  Still, as more minutes pass, the more anxious I get. We should’ve been there already. Every second wasted is another one I can’t afford. So I look at Rick, and ask, “Can I borrow your phone for a sec?”

  “Why?” He frowns.

  “They took mine,” I say. “I have to warn them.”

  “Oh … right.” He rummages in his pocket and throws it at me. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” I quickly type in Margaret’s cell phone number and call, but she doesn’t pick up. Damn. She always hated that damn phone. I resort to texting her, saying that she needs to get outta there, hoping she might read it in time. Then I text Laura and tell her I’m still alive and on my way, and that she needs to stay put.

  Right as we’re nearing the church, I throw Rick’s phone back at him and say, “Drop me off here. You go to Laura’s house and make sure she’s safe. I put her address in your phone.”

  “Why? You don’t want me going with you? What if that dude’s in there with a bunch of his guys? He’ll kill you for real this time.”

  “I’ll handle myself,” I say, jumping out. “Take care of Laura and the kids. They’re more important than I am.”

  “All right … if you say so.”

  “Thanks, dude.” I slam the door shut, and he drives off.

  When my feet hit the steps, I rethink my plan of attack. They’ll be expecting people to come through the front door, but I doubt they know about the back door. So I stop and turn back, running around the back while holding my head down. Don’t want any of those fuckers to see me coming. I climb up the steel fence and jump over into the garden, and when I softly pull the door handle, it opens. Lucky for me, Mother forgot to lock it this time.

  I slip inside as quietly as possible and look around. Three men, including Julio, are sitting in the back with Mother between them. The other two motherfuckers are the same ones who buried me in the ground. They’re talking to her … or rather, laughing at her, while they make stupid jokes and scare her. Having fun with my fucking mother. My fist balls. I’m going to fucking kill them.

  But first, a weapon.

  I sneak along the back part of the church, using the statues and pillars to hide when they glance my way. Luckily, they’re facing away from the altar, so that gives me the opportunity to slide alongside it. I carefully make my way back to my room and quickly lock the door from the inside in case they did notice me.

  I swiftly open the closet and push back a board, pulling out a miniature gun that I hid there just in case shit went down. Well, shit’s definitely going down right about now. This beauty doesn’t hold a lot of bullets, but it’s fast and does the trick.

  I also grab a knife from my drawer and tuck it under my belt before I open the door again.

  Slowly but steadily, I walk out, aiming my gun at the men sitting in the back of the church. Mother’s terrified eyes are the first that look my way, her tears setting a fire ablaze inside me.

  And as the guy to the left notices the startled look on her face and turns his head, I shoot.

  The bullet hits him right between the eyes.

  “What the—” Julio’s voice rumbles.

  One down, two more to go. However, Julio jumps up now, grabbing Mother. Meanwhile, as the other dude searches for his gun, I quickly shoot at him. One goes in his shoulder. He attempts to shoot. A bullet ricochets off the wall ne
ar me. I shoot again. This time, I hit him in the chest. He falls down to the bench.

  I move away from the pillar and find Julio dragging Mother along with him, grasping her tight. He’s using her as a shield as he moves closer to me and then he reaches into his pocket and takes out a gun, putting it to her temple.

  “Don’t you fucking do it,” he hisses. “I’ll kill her.”

  “Let her go, fuckhead,” I growl, aiming for his head.

  But I don’t pull the trigger. I’m terrified I’ll hit Mother instead.

  “How the fuck did you get out of that fucking hole?” he hisses.

  I narrow my eyes, making sure to keep them on him as he approaches me. “Magic.”

  “Don’t take me for a goddamn fool,” he spits, pushing the gun even harder against her temple.

  She whimpers and quivers with fear as he uses his filthy hands to pull her near the altar. I don’t stop him because I want him to get closer … it’s the only way I can get her out of his grasp safely.

  However, it also means he could shoot me easier. But I won’t let that happen.

  “You’ll never get rid of me, Julio,” I hiss.

  “No, you’re like a fucking disease,” he replies.

  We’re dangerously close to each other now. “Just so you know, I take offense to that.”

  “You should’ve died in the ground,” he spits. “Now, you’ll get to witness me murdering your little old granny, and after that, I’ll nail you to the fucking cross.”

  “Over my dead body,” I snarl, trying to take better aim to see if I can take the shot. He’s keeping her so damn close to his body, constantly swaying around to make it harder. Goddammit.

  Suddenly, the front doors to the church open and the people running in distract us both.

  It’s Laura, Diego … and Bruno.

  29

  Laura, Diego, and Bruno appear right in the middle of a fight.

  What are they doing here?

  The should be safe at home.

  Why?

  “Fuck!” I hiss as Julio’s seen them too.

  But instead of shooting at them, he fires at me.