Except, perhaps, his son. E.Q., who'd once wished he could be like anyone but his father, now wished he could be his father.
He treasured Max's last words and all the advice he'd given him through the years. He did his best to live by that advice, no matter how hard it got.
But he never got his wish. He never felt like he measured up to Max.
Max, he was sure, would've found a way to help Lydia get over her depression. Max would've prevented the fire and saved her life.
Max would've kept Grogan in line and headed off his war with the other kids. Max would've kept everything from falling apart.
And Max would've raised all of those kids to do the right thing.
*****
Chapter Forty-Five
Johnstown, Pennsylvania, 2006
"I set the house on fire," said Paisley. "I did it so Grogan wouldn't have to leave."
Everyone in the living room listened with silent intensity. Even when Celeste dropped the car keys on the entryway slate, every eye and ear in the room remained trained on Paisley.
She looked at E.Q. "I knew you were going to send him away the next day." She looked down at the floor. "I couldn't stand the thought of losing him.
"So I came up with a plan. I thought, if Grogan did something to save the family, you'd have to let him stay.
"After what he'd done, it was the only way I could think of that you'd let him stay."
Paisley got up from the arm of the sofa on which she'd been sitting. Bracing her hands on her back, she waddled around and dropped down onto E.Q.'s rocker recliner.
"That night, I sneaked into Grogan's room and told him about it," she said. "He seemed to think it was a good idea.
"But something went wrong." Paisley sighed. "I started the fire in the kitchen, but Grogan never put it out.
"Cary said Grogan took off...but then, later, Dad said he'd died. I guess I thought he had a change of heart and went back in...and died in the fire."
Suddenly, E.Q. broke in. "He didn't die in the fire, Paisley."
Paisley stared up at him. "So it's true? Cary's letter?"
E.Q. nodded.
"Then why'd you tell us he was dead?" said Paisley. "Why let us think he was dead all these years?"
"At the time, I told myself I was protecting what was left of the family." E.Q. shook his head. He sounded exhausted and dispirited. "But I don't know. Our troubles started when he got here. I just wanted him gone from our lives, completely gone."
"Where did you send him?" Paisley's voice had a sharp edge. "Aunt Eveline's?"
"I didn't send him anywhere. He ran away."
"Ran away?" said Paisley.
E.Q. nodded and shrugged. "I didn't hear from him until a year and a half ago. He just started calling on the phone out of the blue."
"He wanted money, right?" Baron snorted. "How much did you send him?"
"None," said E.Q. "He didn't ask for any. He just wanted to talk."
Baron's voice rose with anger. "About what? Old times? How he terrorized us and almost killed Cary?"
"He wanted to apologize. He wanted me to forgive him."
"And did you?" said Baron.
E.Q. hung his head. "Yes."
Baron glared at him. "Why the fuck would you do that? Why the fuck?"
E.Q. looked up, his features tightening with anger of his own. "People make mistakes, Baron. Every single one of us."
"You can say that again," said Baron.
Paisley sneered at him. "Ain't that the truth, fuck-man."
Celeste, who'd been listening silently, finally spoke up. The conversation felt like it was on the verge of deteriorating into a fight, and she still needed an answer to one vital question.
Time to cut through the crap. "Where is he?" she said. "Where's Grogan?"
E.Q. looked at her. "He's in Lilly. The address on Cary's letter."
Celeste walked over from the front door and snapped the letter and envelope from Baron's hands. "Then let's get going."
"You're kidding," said Baron. "I have absolutely no desire to see that son of a bitch."
"Cary might be there," said Celeste. "The last clue in his plan pointed to Grogan. It didn't make sense when we thought Grogan was dead...but now we know he's still alive."
"Come on," said Baron. "Grogan tried to kill him. You really think Cary would have anything to do with him?"
"Cary's there with him, or Grogan knows where he is." Celeste slipped the letter into the envelope, then folded the envelope and slid it into the back pocket of her jeans. "Either that, or we're back to square one."
*****
Chapter Forty-Six
Puerto Peñasco, Mexico, 2006
"What took you so long?" said Cary, keeping his voice pitched low so he wouldn't wake the kids sleeping on either side of him.
El Yucatango adjusted the zipper of his chinos as he lumbered down the center aisle of the church. "I had a little land to go with my sea, Beacon."
Cary shook his head. "I didn't mean what took you so long in the bathroom. I meant on the beach."
"Oh, that." El Yucatango chuckled as he swept his great bulk into the pew in front of Cary and the kids. "It's a long story. Oye, mira." He jabbed an index finger at a point high on the wall behind Cary.
Cary twisted his head around and craned his neck to look up. He was glad he did.
The circular rose window mounted above him had come to life, filtering in the first rays of dawn. The stained glass petals of the multicolored rose sparkled as a rainbow of light streamed through them, red and gold and purple and blue.
It was beautiful. It almost made up for him being stuck in a church instead of charging toward the U.S. border.
Almost.
As Cary turned back around, the smoking priest who'd married Crystal and Drill crossed the front of the church. He paused in front of the big crucifix hanging over the altar and made the sign of the cross over himself...then continued on his way. He had a lit cigarette in his mouth the whole time.
El Yucatango followed Cary's gaze and watched the priest disappear through a doorway. "That Father Lovito, he's all right, huh? Hiding us like this?"
Cary tried to be a good sport, though he was still miffed that he and the kids had ended up there. All along, he had planned to double-cross El Yucatango and get out of town fast.
But El Yucatango had double-crossed him.
"Father Lovito was once a wrestler," said El Yucatango. "That's why we're such good super-pals. That's why he takes care of us like this."
"I see," said Cary. "That's neat."
"He was a rudo. A bad guy. How do you like that?" El Yucatango's gold front tooth glinted as he laughed. "Called himself Padre de Pecado. Father Sin. Pretty good, huh?"
"Yeah, sure." Cary smiled half-heartedly. "So, what's the long story? The one about why you took so long helping me fight Drill and Crystal?"
El Yucatango fiddled with the braided horn of hair poking up through the hole in his mask. "That's a boring story, Beacon. Let's talk about today instead. About the big match."
"The fact you took such a long time coming to help me," said Cary. "It wouldn't have anything to do with my taxi disappearing, would it?"
El Yucatango laughed and waved it off. "You've got a wild imagination, Beacon. Why would I make your taxi disappear?"
"I guess you're right." Cary chuckled and shook his head. "Gee, wouldn't it be something if the taxi showed up after the big wrestling match you have planned?"
"That wouldn't be so bad, would it?" El Yucatango was still grinning. "You'll be busy till after the match anyway, right?"
Cary was at his mercy, so he couldn't let his rising anger take over...but it was definitely rising. He knew he'd been played, and now he had no choice but to play along. There was no way El Yucatango was going to let him avoid the "small thing" that was his end of the deal.
Cary thought he should have remembered how El Yucatango had conned him out of ten bucks when they'd first met.
"Sou
nds like you've got it all figured out," said Cary.
"The match?" said El Yucatango. "Sure I have."
"So tell me," said Cary. "How is it we won't get arrested for kidnapping?"
El Yucatango laughed. "That's what masks are for, Beacon! To protect our secret identities."
"Masks don't help much when you've got a big, bushy beard and a unicorn horn," said Cary. "Drill and Crystal will give the cops a description, you know."
"I've got it covered, Beacon. You'll see." El Yucatango scratched his head. "Everything's taken care of, amigo mio."
Cary sighed. He didn't feel a bit better.
But what could he do except hope for the best? His car was missing, his money was running low, and he had no one to turn to for help but El Yucatango.
Not to mention, he really had promised El Yucatango he'd do the "small thing," and El Yucatango had held up his end of the deal.
Maybe, if Cary played along, things would still work out. Either that, or he'd find another way to double-cross El Yucatango.
"Bueno," said Cary. "When do we start?"
"You're learning the language, Beacon!" El Yucatango clapped his hands. "Me gusta mucho!"
At the sound of the clap, Glo and Late stirred against Cary. He looked at each of them, and for that moment was just glad they were together again.
"Let's get this over with," he said.
*****
Chapter Forty-Seven - Johnstown, Pennsylvania, 2006
If Spellerina were here, she'd make the world spin faster and the sun shoot up into the sky like some kid's escaped helium balloon.
Celeste smiled at the thought. Sunrise was much too far off for her liking at the moment.
Though it was two o'clock in the morning, she just wanted to race out to Lilly immediately. She wanted to see if Cary was with Grogan, and if he wasn't, she wanted to interrogate Grogan for his whereabouts.
What Celeste didn't want was to sit around E.Q.'s house for a few hours while Paisley slept off her latest panic attack.
But Celeste was in the minority. In fact, Celeste was the minority. E.Q. and Baron--and Paisley, of course--had decided it would be best to get some sleep, then head for Lilly first thing in the morning. Celeste just thought the holdup was a huge waste of time.
Maybe she would have felt differently if she'd been able to sleep. Instead, she was so worried and tense that all she could do was pace around the back yard.
She wasn't the only sleepless wonder, as it turned out. After a while--what seemed like ten hours but was probably more like two--E.Q. emerged from the back door. He waved as he teetered down the porch steps in his bathrobe, pajamas, and slippers.
"Your turn," he said, sitting down on the next-to-the-last step. "Go get some sleep. I'll take over guard duty."
"Who can sleep with all the screaming?" Celeste drifted over and sat down beside him. "Even the dog had to run and hide."
"All's quiet, finally," said E.Q. "Paisley screamed herself to sleep a while ago." He shook his head and smiled. "It'd be funny if it wasn't so..."
"Unfunny."
"Exactly." E.Q. patted her knee. "Have I told you how good it is to see you yet?"
"Not much time for small talk," said Celeste.
"Well, consider yourself told," said E.Q. "It's good to see all of you. It'd be like old times if Cary were here."
And Mom, thought Celeste, but she didn't say it. "I'm so worried about him, Dad."
"He has to be okay." E.Q. stroked his white mustache and looked up at the night sky. "I still have to make it up to him for ruining his life."
"I think that's Grogan's fault," said Celeste.
"And I brought Grogan into the house," said E.Q. "I put you all in danger. I didn't believe you when you tried to tell me what he was doing."
"He was pretty good at tricking people," said Celeste.
"He didn't trick me into lying to you," said E.Q. "He didn't force me to tell you kids that your mother died in the fire instead of killing herself."
E.Q. had hit a sore spot, and Celeste looked away. Not only did she resent being lied to about Mom, but she hated knowing the truth. "You did what you thought was best," she said softly.
E.Q. sighed. "Cary blamed himself for her death. For not rescuing her. He never got over it."
Celeste stared at him. For the first time, she noticed how much older he looked. "You never told him?"
"No," said E.Q. His head sagged between his knees. His fingers worked the end of his frayed bathrobe sash. "I tried to do extra for him. I spoiled him some. But I never told him."
"He'd want to know," said Celeste.
"You're right." E.Q. nodded. "It was a mistake."
E.Q. sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "At first, it just hurt too much to talk about. To think about, even. Too, I really didn't want you kids to know your mom killed herself. I, uh...I didn't want to give you any ideas."
Celeste nodded.
"I guess I figured I'd tell you eventually," said E.Q., "but the longer I waited, the harder it got.
"Maybe easier's a better word. You think to yourself, 'I'll wait till everyone's grown up and settled and can handle this.' Then, when everyone's grown up and settled, you think, 'Why rock the boat? Why dredge up the past and maybe make things worse?'"
"Were you ever going to tell us?" said Celeste.
E.Q. shook his head. "I doubt it."
Celeste shrugged and looked up at the starry sky. "Well, I'm glad you finally told us everything. It must feel good to get it off your chest after all this time."
"Not really." E.Q. put an arm around her shoulders. "It kind of feels like the fight's just getting started."
*****
Chapter Forty-Eight
Puerto Peñasco, Mexico, 2006
"Well, Beacon, what do you think?" El Yucatango spread his flabby arms wide to encompass the cemetery. "This is where I will battle El Demonio del Diamante."
Cary was helping Glo and Late clamber out of the back of Father Lovito's disintegrating pickup truck. El Yucatango had brought him back to the Cementerio de San Jacobo, where once they'd visited the grave of El Demonio del Diamante. "I thought this was just where you were going to dig him up."
"Change of plan, Beacon." El Yucatango waved his hand dismissively. "We don't need to dig him up to make people believe he's come back from the dead." He leaned close and whispered in Cary's ear. "Also, the price for the caretaker to look the other way was too high."
"What a shame," said Cary, but he didn't mean it. "So we'll have to settle for having the match here, huh?"
"What better place for El Demonio to rise from the dead," said El Yucatango, "and for me to send him screaming back to Hell?" His voice surged from a growl to a roar, and he pumped his fists at the sky.
"You're gonna wrestle him?" said Glo.
"You're gonna lose," said Late.
Cary grinned. "No kidding."
Suddenly, a big flatbed truck rumbled up the access road toward them. It was loaded with pieces of metal framework, rattling under layers of canvas.
El Yucatango waved the truck past. Shouting something in Spanish, he pointed in the direction of El Demonio del Diamante's gravesite monument.
"The ring has arrived," he said, waving after the truck. "Don't you love it, Beacon?"
"Sure." Cary didn't want any part of any of it, but he was stuck. If he wanted his taxi back--not that El Yucatango would cop to stealing it--he had to follow through and make it look good.
El Yucatango, on the other hand, was more charged up than Cary had ever seen him. His face glowed and his gold tooth flashed as he spoke with dramatic intensity. "Soon, the crowd will be screaming. The sweat will be flying. Our bodies will collide like mighty planets. Like exploding stars in the heavens!"
"Right." Cary watched the flatbed truck back up and park in the aisle between graves. Two men got out--one big-bellied, the other scrawny--and started pulling back the canvas from the load of metal framework. "So where'd you get the ri
ng on such short notice?"
"A wrestling academy near here." El Yucatango flung up his fists, bending his arms at the elbows, and flexed his biceps. He may have been obese, but those biceps were bigger than the children's heads. "They were only too happy to loan this equipment for such a history-making event!"
"You're gonna make history?" said Late.
"This will be the battle of the century! Of the ages! Of forever! Beacon and I will become the stuff of songs and legends! And you two will be part of it!" El Yucatango pointed forefingers at both of them.
"Us?" Glo and Late both said it at the same time.
"Them?" Cary didn't like the direction the conversation was taking.
"Somebody has to work our corners, Beacon. Give us water and towels and stitch up our bloody gashes." Through the eyehole of his white pillowcase mask, El Yucatango gave Cary a big wink. "What do you say?"
Cary looked at him like he was crazy. "We kidnapped them, remember? What if someone recognizes them?"
El Yucatango tapped a finger on his mask. "That's why they'll each have one of these on, Beacon. I'm surprised they don't already. Didn't you say they're super-heroes?"
"Yes!" Late shook his fist in the air. "We're in the Nuclear Family just like Cary!"
Glo beamed. "It's true. We have super-powers and everything."
"We could wrestle, too!" said Late. "We could use our powers!"
Cary shook his head. "It's bad enough we're still in town. I'm not going to put them up in front of a crowd and hope no one figures out who they really are."
"It's the last place anyone will look for them," said El Yucatango. "Right in plain sight."
"In plain sight with two men who look an awful lot like the ones who kidnapped them," said Cary.
"I told you, don't worry about that." El Yucatango chopped his hands through the air decisively. "It's taken care of, hermano."
"That means 'brother,'" said Late.
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