Burned

by Meg Watson

  “Who decided that, Charli?” Tek yells, kicking up a healthy wedge of dust that settles over the dry scrubs and little cactuses. “I bet you had somebody, and you just decided not to stay with him, right? You decided you'd be better off on your own? Because you’re the great maker of decisions? Is that how it went?”

  I take several deep breaths in a row. I understand that Tek is very upset right now, but he doesn't even know the kind of viper's nest he is poking into.

  “Yeah, I make decisions. That's my job. I’m a mom now. That's what I have to do.”

  “You don't have to make decisions for everybody else all the time, Charli,” Nico says, shaking his head. “You can just trust people every once in awhile, just let things go the way they're supposed to without sticking your nose in.”

  “Oh my God are you guys talking about the trial again? I was trying to help you!”

  Tek holds both of his hands out. His eyes are just blazing right now, so alight with anger that it hurts to look at him. “We were innocent! They would've figured that out! But you had to come in there and meddle, get in the middle and make it look like we were both lying. Don Dante didn't know who to believe!”

  “I saved your lives!” I remind them. “If it weren't for me, do you really think that you would just be retired, hanging out in Asian, North Carolina?”

  “Oriental,” Nico corrects me.

  “Fucking Oriental!” I repeat. “Do you really think that that's where you would be? The trial wasn't going well, guys! They knew you were hiding something. They knew that you were hiding us. The three of us. And once I saw that, I had to do something. I couldn't just let you —”

  The words choke off. I can't even tell them. I remember that day with clarity. The two of them sitting in front of Don Dante in those leather club chairs. A line of us along the back wall. The room was filled with smoke from cigars and from fear. The fear probably stank worse than the cigars.

  Don Dante had asked them the question, where were they the night that Salvatore was killed. The answer was that they were both with me, but they couldn't say that out loud. After they had finished assignments, they came to my townhouse. But to admit that would put shame on all of us. It would have been an outrage.

  And I know that they thought that they were being noble, not wanting to tarnish my reputation. An Italian girl is definitely supposed to be a nice girl deep down. But when they hedged about where they were, everyone knew they were lying. And if Don Dante thought that they really had killed their own brother, their own blood, it would've been the end for them. That's the law.

  So I did what I had to do. I stepped forward and confessed to cheating on Tek, who everyone knew I was seeing, with Nico, the secret component of our threesome.

  It was a convenient lie. It was just outrageous enough, just scandalous enough. And it was just enough doubt that Dante couldn't justify doing anything but retiring them. He couldn't exonerate them but he couldn’t convict the, with me there, so that's what happened.

  But they will never understand. They’ll never see the extent of what I gave up for them. How I became a fugitive in Annapolis too, but without getting to leave. I had to stay undercover, bury the agony I felt when they left, and conceal my pregnancy. I couldn’t confide in anyone, not even Rita or Bruno.

  But then once I had Gus, I realized it was kind of okay. The people that you love never really understand what you sacrifice for them. Not really. I had to let it go.

  Here in this desert, I just can’t go on fighting. I feel myself slump under the weight of everything. We’re so close now, I can't just give up. Tek can't give up. We just need to see this through. I just need to focus on Gus.

  “Okay, maybe you’re right. We can do whatever you want to do,” I say in as loud a voice as I can, which is not very loud.

  Tek tips his head from side to side. I can see the muscles of his jaw working as he struggles to contain his emotions. Despite every kind of jerk he is being, I feel terrible. I wish I could reach out and touch him, comfort him. He didn't deserve this, and as much as I hate to admit it, I know that's true.

  “Fine. Here's what we can do,” he says finally. “Nico, you stay with the cash. I'll take Charli and Gus across the border and be back here to get you in not too long. Probably by midnight, I figure. You cool with that?”

  Nico shrugs. His eyes go over the landscape like a searchlight, taking in the vast panorama of absolutely nothing that is South Texas. Desert. Tumbleweeds. Gophers and shit. But he's going to act like it's okay, I know that.

  “Midnight. Sure. I can do that,” he says in a confident voice.

  I nod. Fine. At least it settled. “Okay, thank you for everything,” I say sincerely.

  I take a tentative step toward Nico and raise my arms. He seems to want to flinch away but then he lets me fold my arms around his shoulders and hug him tightly. I try not to remember all the other times my body has been pressed up against his, try not to let those feelings wash over me like a flood. I can’t think about that now, not when I'm so close.

  “You take care of yourself, kiddo,” he whispers into my hair. He holds me for about a half a second longer than he should then gently pushes me back down to standing. He shakes his head silently and looks away.

  I turned to Tek. I’m not quite ready to hug him just yet, since I’ve got a few more hours in the car with this guy. But it was nice to say goodbye to Nico.

  I'm doing the right thing. I am, I assure myself. I really am.

  “Okay, get us to somewhere in Mexico where Aldo can’t find us,” I say to Tek, letting my hands drop against my thighs. I give up. Whatever he wants to do is fine.

  But he is not moving toward the minivan. He's squinting at Nico.

  “What does Aldo have to do with this?”

  “Oh, —” I stammer, suddenly remembering I have not told them why we’re on the run. I wasn't going to tell them anything, because the mere mention of Aldo’s name probably makes them murderous. Shit.

  “You know what, it doesn’t even matter now. Let's just go.”

  I pivot away to walk back to the minivan, which is still idling. I can see Gus's profile outlined in the window. He's playing a videogame, just oblivious to everything. That's a good boy.

  “Charli? Don’t walk away. Is all of this,” Tek’s hands wave in the air gesturing to, well, everything, “somehow related to Aldo?”

  I shake my head tightly. I don’t want to answer.

  Nico takes a step toward me. He cocks his head to the side looking at me, then looking at Tek. There it is. They’re communicating again. I know that they said that they don't anymore, but they still do.

  “Charli,” Nico starts in a calm voice, “is Gus —”

  “What are you saying? No! Fuck you!”

  Nico shrugs and looks away. I want to pick up one of these baseball-sized rocks and hurl it at him. How dare he??

  “But Aldo has something to do with this,” Nico mutters. “He does, I can feel it. What happened, Charli?”

  I tip my head back to look at the sky. The huge, huge sky, topaz blue. So bright that I have to squint. It burns. What can I tell them?

  “You know what? I don't even know for sure,” I finally admit. “First there was Sammy, and he got disappeared. Then there was Derek, and he got disappeared too. And then there's my father…”

  I choke off. I don't even know what to say anymore.

  “Not to mention Knuckles and the diner,” Nico nods at Tek. Tek returns the nod. They obviously understand each other.

  “That motherfucker,” Tek snarls. “Even now… He just can't stop. He won't stop, now that Nero is out of the way. I’ll bet you ten grand that Dante's next.”

  I gasp, my hand automatically going up to cover my mouth. “What are you talking about? He wouldn't dare!”

  But Nico is already nodding, chewing on the inside of his cheek and staring down at the cracked, dry ground.

  “Oh he would, Charli. He even convinced Two-Fist to miss the trial. He
's an amazing negotiator.”

  “What does Two-Fist have to do with his?”

  “He should've been Nico's alibi, not you,” Tek explains through gritted teeth. “But he didn't even show up. Nico thinks Aldo told him not to. He could have set the matter straight, and you never would have had to say anything.”

  “Well let's go talk to him,” I breathe. This doesn’t even really make sense to me. There was an alibi? There was something so simple?

  “Yeah, that's what I told you,” Nico exclaims, irritated. “We didn't do it. I had an alibi. Somehow Aldo got to him, but I was with Two-Fist. All he had to do was show up and —”

  “Let's go talk to him!” I say again.

  “Nobody knows where he is, Charli!” Tek yells. “The moment is past. This is reality now! We got burned, and there’s no changing that. Just let it go!”

  I shake my head fiercely. It's all kind of coming back into place now. Is it really that simple?

  “No, I will not let it go. What was that shit you said about not running away from your problems? You can fix this. We can all fix this!”

  Nico rolls his eyes. “Charli, it's a million miles away. We’re burned. For good. Just let it go.”

  “I will not let go! Two-Fist is my uncle, don’t you remember? And even better, I know exactly where he is.”

  Nico and Tek look at each other, startled. It's all clicking into place. Like that math puzzle again, just a bunch of numbers rolling into the slots where they’re supposed to be.

  It's all so simple now. We can fix this. We can fix all of this.

  “We can do this,” I say again. “Aldo doesn't have to get away with it. We don't have to let him. Let’s do this.”

  Tek squints hard at Nico. They stare at each other for a long time. Something about the hard Texas sunlight makes me think that someone is going to whip out a six shooter at any second. But they don't. They just stand there for a long time until one of them finally speaks.

  “How about it?” Tek grunts. “You ready to do something meaningful with your life again?”

  “More than ready,” Nico nods. “Let's get the fuck out of here.”

  DAY 7 - TEK

  Somewhere close to dawn, I finally asked Nico to take the wheel. He blinked, coming completely awake just like that. His eyes scanned the horizon as it reddened to blood in just one spot, the rest of the world still dark and sleeping.

  Normally I don't mind driving, but 15 hours threading back through Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and the corner of Georgia was getting to be too much. I was grateful for the job of course, better than having to participate in random conversations all around me, but it was was still quite a haul.

  I hate backtracking. It seems like a failure of planning.

  We drove straight through the night. It was the best way to go, really, since Gus needs to take a pitstop every couple hours or so. I mean, of course he does, but it is still kind of aggravating. Makes “being on the run” feel like “being on the very slow walk.”

  I mean, as kids go, he's pretty okay. Don't get me wrong. He's not one of those bouncing-off-the-wall kids. He kind of stays in one place, which I appreciate.

  Not because he’s stupid, either. I mean as far as I can tell the kid is supersmart. Wicked smart. He always seems to be looking at something, figuring something out. A lot of what's going on is just in his head too, whereas I find most people let everything spill out of their mouths, usually before they think it through very hard.

  But not Gus. This little dude has a lot going on behind the scenes. He could be some kind of mega genius for all I know. He's not showing all his cards, and that's also a pretty slick move for a little guy. Not bad for four years old.

  So Nico took the wheel, and I crept into the back of the minivan and reclined in one of the captain’s chairs, hoping to get a little shut eye. There certainly has not been a lot of sleep on this adventure we’re on, and I can kind of feel the fatigue sitting in my bones. I feel a little fried, a little bit under my peak performance. Hopefully since we got rid of Charli’s cell phone, we aren’t going to have any more surprise visitors.

  Come to think of it, there haven’t been any surprises since I destroyed that cell phone. Which means I was right. And do you think I'm going to get a thank you for that? Spoiler: No I will not.

  This minivan rides pretty smooth. It's not my Mustang by any stretch of the imagination, but it is kind of comfortable to have somebody else driving me while I recline in this chair. Gus did a pretty good job picking it out, too. I wanted to get something a little bit more utilitarian, but once he saw the flip-down LED screens and control panels at every seat, his little face just brightened right up. How could I say no?

  Charli's in the seat next to me across this tiny aisle. Her seat is also reclined and she’s curled up, facing away from me. I guess she doesn't snore anymore. Gus does though.

  He is still asleep back there, stretched out on the bench with a seatbelt diagonally across his middle because his mother made him. I don't know if you have to buckle up a kid on the third row seat of a minivan, do you? What do I know, he just does what his mother says. Probably for the best.

  But I can’t sleep. I should be asleep because I can’t remember the last time… Nope. Can't remember. I'm buzzing and awake. Just laying here listening to Charli and Gus breathe, listening to Nico humming to himself up there in the driver’s seat.

  Through the tinted window I can kind of see the sky getting lighter. It’s that pale purple-gray color first, then a thin blue. The sun is rising. Nico makes a slow left turn and light comes blazing through the window, orange and hot.

  We must be coming up to the Appalachians or something because I can feel us climbing hills, descending hills. I glance out the window and see cows speckling the sides of the dew-covered hillsides.

  Do farmers let cows out in the morning? Or are they just out there all night? I should Google that.

  ***

  “Get up.”

  “I’m not sleeping,” I say, pushing up on my elbow.

  “Oh really?” Nico chuckles. “You normally just chill with your mouth hanging open and your hand on your nuts?”

  “Language,” I grumble as I sit up further. Was I sleeping? I guess so because my mouth feels like burnt toast and my eyes are all foggy.

  “Charli and Gus are in the diner. Get your ass up. I need food,” Nico announces, then thumbs the button to open the side door.

  The air that rushes in when the door opens is thick with the smell of pine trees, humidity, sun. Not at all like the desert assault of Texas or the swampy Louisiana air. This is mountain air, I can feel it. Kind of makes a guy want to go for a run or something. Not that I'm going to. I can just see that people might want to. Hiking, maybe.

  The diner is just like every other diner in the world. Sassy old broads serving coffee, some fat dude announcing orders and smacking the bell with the back of his spatula, lines of old farts at the counter hunched over coffee cups and flapjacks.

  Gus acts like he's at Disney World. He is extremely excited about the pancakes, I can tell. The hostess directs us to a booth and he slides in, balancing on his knees and rearranging the place setting so that everything is parallel.

  “You already know what you want, little man?”

  “Course I do,” he chirps. He smiles at me, big. He's missing both his front teeth and has developed a bit of a lisp. Yeah. It's pretty cute.

  “You know what, grab me some coffee. I'm gonna hit the head,” Nico says before he could sit down.

  “Oh, can you take Gus with you? To the men's room?” Charli asks. Gus nods and starts scootching his way back out of the booth.

  “Hmm, okay, yeah sure. I guess that’ll be all right.” Nico says. Ha! Babysitting duty! I have to remember to tease him about that later.

  Charli's eyes are down, and she brushes a piece of her bangs out of her face as she pretends to look over the menu. What's to look at? All these places have exactly the same things.

>   “You sure you're good with this?” she finally asks me.

  I shrug. The truth is, I'm not sure.

  “All this?” she presses. “Going back to Annapolis? You sure?”

  I let out a deep breath. Now that I'm doing it, it feels like I've been holding my breath for a couple of days. “Charli, to be totally honest, I don't know if I'm sure. I was just kind of getting used to eating swordfish steaks and going on sailboat rides. That was my plan.”

  “Yeah, you always gotta have a plan,” she chuckles a little bit.

  “Some people would think that was an asset.”

  She raises her eyes to look at me, and I almost flinch away. It never ceases to amaze me, how bright her eyes are. Bright green, like new leaves. When she stares at you, she really stares.

  “I know how to plan too,” she says calmly.

  “You know what, let's just do it and try not to think too hard about it. We have to do it for Don Dante, if for no other reason.”

  She raises her eyebrows at me. “No other reason?”

  “None.”

  I snap open the menu and stare down at. What is she talking about? I have already driven over half the country in a fucking Winnebago for her, and now she wants to know how I feel about things? Is she serious?

  I don't know how I feel about things. For my sanity, I made a point of letting everything go. I gave up on vengeance a long time ago. I gave up on feelings. I gave up on change. All I want to do now is live long enough to get a Loverboy-quality nickname.

  Going back to Annapolis, though, is stirring up some shit, I can tell. I can feel it scraping away at the lid I've got on top of everything. I can sort of sense it all bubbling underneath, a lot of feelings about Aldo. Lot of feelings about Nico. Lot of feelings about Charli, if I'm honest.

  The words on the menu kind of swim in front of my face. I can barely make sense of them. “You know what, let's just do what we gotta do,” I tell her. “And then we don't have to see each other again.”

  She opens her lips as if to say something but it's too late. Nico and Gus are back just as the waitress sidles up with a pad of paper and a ballpoint pen.