Mending the Past

by Avery June Ligon

  “Is he going to be okay?” Ed asked.

  “Hope so. Sure do like the little guy.”

  “You know that he stole your bag of drugs.”

  Sam nodded. “Maggie should be trying to find the bag right now. Don’t be mad at him. He’s trying to help.”

  Ed nodded and they both looked for Bud. He was crouched over some plants growing at the side of the road, and was talking to himself, or the plants.

  “Come on Little Buddy. I want to see what’s down the street.”

  Bud didn’t seem to hear.

  “Hey, Little Buddy,” Sam said.

  Bud pointed at the plants. “Come look. I think there are people living in here.”

  Ed followed Sam over and watched him crouch next to Bud.

  “Where are the people?” Sam asked.

  “Living in here,” he said, pointing to a seed pod.

  “Oh,” Sam said.

  “They’re space towers,” Bud said.

  “Mm hm,” Sam said. “Hey, lets leave these little people to their own lives. Come on, lets keep walking. I want to see what’s down the street.”

  Bud looked unconvinced.

  “I see the roof of a big building,” Sam said. “ Do you want me to show it to you?”

  Bud nodded. He began to stand up when he saw Ed’s foot had snapped the stem of a nearby space tower. “You killer! You sprayer of poison! You smasher of cities! Look,” he yelled. “Look. That used to be someone’s home. You smashed it to the ground! You careless smasher of things!”

  “Calm down Little Buddy. I bet they’re all right.”

  “Yea, well, maybe they’re not!” Bud stood up and swung a punch at Ed. His fist connected with Ed’s ribs.

  “Ouch!” Ed said.

  “And that’s just a little taste of what you did to those people,” Bud said pointing at the broken plant. “At least your house didn’t come crashing down. Just imagine how much that would’ve hurt.”

  Ed dodged another punch. “Actually, I think I have a pretty good idea.”

  Bud swung again.

  “Hey. Would you stop that?” Ed said, taking a few steps backward.

  Bud leaned into a run.

  “What are you doing?” Ed asked, also breaking into a run to avoid Bud’s fists.

  Bud said nothing. He kept his eye on his prey.

  Sam strolled down the road behind them. He hoped it wouldn’t take long for his wife to catch up. It was getting dark, but he could still see Ed’s form running out ahead of Bud, stopping every time he gained a safe distance to attempt negotiation. Sam laughed to himself and adjusted his backpack. He’d always wanted more children.

  Sam looked to the outline of the building ahead. Its roofs gained height like the foothills rising toward the greatest peak of the Himalayas. He brought his hand to the vial at his neck and thought that he felt at home in Khajuraho too. Indeed, the landscape around him seemed to welcome him home as the smallest of wandering hills; the last remaining of the forebears of the human race, the ones who rose from the earth in human form.

  * * * * *

  Mrs. Mae’s driver pulled up to the hotel in the black Ambassador. She’d arrived by plane, made contact with her newest employees, and formed her last resort plan. Night was falling and to her the world had taken on the tones of an Afghan emerald, arguably the most precious stone that could be pulled from the earth. Fools, she thought. Is everyone else on God’s blue green earth insane? She thanked the driver and told him to wait. She stepped out of the Ambassador with her purse held in hand.

  “Mrs. Mae,” she said to the man at the front desk. “I’m looking for the rest of my family.”

  He gave her the room number attached to the name Mae and pointed in the direction she should go. She left him with a smile and a tip, and made her way through the garden to Steward and Jet’s room.

  Sujata understood very little English, but she recognized the last name of the white woman at the door. It seemed reasonable that she could be part of Steward’s family, so Sujata let her in. The baby seemed to recognize the white Mae lady, but she didn’t acknowledge the baby in return. Who walks into a room and ignores a baby? Sujata looked at Mrs. Mae’s face and decided to scoop the baby up in her arms. The white woman sat on the couch and opened her purse. Both her eyes and hands where occupied with its contents. Things in her purse jingled and clicked. Sujata held the baby close and moved toward the door.

  “Sit down,” Mrs. Mae said.

  Sujata didn’t understand. She opened the door.

  Mrs. Mae’s eyes flashed with anger, her face flushed, and she drew from her purse a small gun. Shining. Iridescent. White. Mrs. Mae fired a shot through the floor between herself and Sujata, and motioned for the Indian woman to sit. Sujata dropped to the floor with the baby in her lap. The baby began to wail.

  Sujata pressed the baby against her. She rocked and sang a quiet song. With her head still lowered she snuck a look at the insane woman with the gun. She was relieved to see that the white lady’s focus was not on her. She rocked the baby. Tears ran down both of their cheeks. Who fires a gun around a baby? Who fires a gun? She’s not paying attention to us. Sit, she told herself, a moment will come.

  * * * * *

  When they reached a fork in the road, Ed was a few steps ahead of Bud, who was showing no signs of slowing. A minute earlier, Ed had heard what sounded like a gun shot. Bud heard it too and blamed Ed for it. “You poisoning killer of little people. Now you’re shooting. Where’s your gun? Give me your gun. You can’t be trusted with that.”

  Ed was trying to reason with his friend when he heard someone’s breath coming hard and fast. He couldn’t hear footfalls, but was certain another person was approaching. When the person passed Ed, he stopped short. His surprise kept words from escaping his open mouth. I’d know that body anywhere, he thought.

  Bud tackled and pinned Ed.

  “Give me that gun,” Bud growled.

  Maybe Bud drugged me, Ed thought. That would be the simplest answer, but if there’s any chance that was my wife.... Ed threw Bud onto the dirt road and scrambled to his feet. He was covered in red brown dirt as he sprinted into the cloud of dust raised by his wife. He breathed it in. Hallucinations don’t kick up dust. Or do they?

  “Hey, I’m bleeding,” Bud said.

  Ed thought about turning around to help him when Bud bellowed, “You aren’t so fast that I won’t get you Maker of Things Bloody.”

  He can’t be that hurt, Ed decided. He increased his speed. He turned off of the road at a huge bodhi tree, with roots snaking across the ground. Ed jumped a patch of roots and when he looked up he could see his wife running ahead of him. He was gaining. They ran around the main building of a hotel and were in the back garden. His wife jumped a hedge. Ed still didn’t hear her feet on the ground. This is all my imagination he decided as he cleared the hedge and gave up running. Maybe I can will this hallucination back to me. It began to work. He watched as his wife slowed.

  * * * * *

  Jet looked at her hotel room ahead of her. It seemed peaceful enough. She considered jumping through the open window, but that was hardly something one should do when a baby might be playing on the other side. Instead, she stopped next to the window and closed her eyes to pray to any god willing to listen. She prayed for a whole and healthy baby, but braced herself for blood.

  * * * * *

  Maggie had caught up with Sam by the time the gun shot reached their ears. She clutched the baby talisman to her as she turned to her husband with a worried look.

  “I think it’ll be fine. The boys are together,” Sam said.

  The peak of the building they were headed toward was still a darker shade of black than the night.

  “I hope you have some flashlights in there,” Maggie said, indicating Sam’s backpack with a turn of her head.

  “Headlamps,” Sam said. “You know I like to be prepared.”

  She reached for his hand and they walked on.

  * * * * *r />
  Steward and Puja had made their introductions. They’d talked about the weather, and then they’d ran out of things to say. Steward looked toward the road and thought that Jet should be to their hotel already. He wondered what Eileen was capable of.

  Steward has known for years that there was a piece of Eileen out of sync with reality. A side that needed the world to bend to her desires. Fortunately for Eileen, he thought, she’s rich enough to make the world how she’d like it. Most of the time. There had been times when her life hadn’t worked the way she wanted it. Her responses at those times had been less than sane. He’d never known much of what went on between Eileen and Efrem, but he’d witnessed the aftermath.

  Keeping Efrem and Ed from communicating seemed so wrong to Steward that he’d never been able to excuse her on that point. When he’d spoken to her about it, her face had changed, or maybe all of the change had come from her eyes. He saw himself move from her graces and become the brother of the devil. It had been as though, in a moment, Eileen had forgotten every kind conversation they’d ever had, all of the time he had spent being a father to Ed.

  What is Eileen capable of?

  Steward heard a scraping noise behind him and turned to see that Puja had almost climbed out of his reach. He grabbed her ankle.

  “You let me go, right now!”

  “Well, then get down here.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know how.”

  Steward looked at her. She did look frightened.

  “Oh, for goodness sake,” Steward said. “Straighten your arms and put your foot here.” He patted a deeply carved piece of stone, so she could hear where she should aim her foot. “Look, that thing up there isn’t even a real emerald. So, stop risking your life for it. What if you’d gotten all of the way up there and then realized you didn’t know how to get down? What if you’d fallen?”

  Puja eyed him, then went back to following his instructions for getting her feet back down to the ground.

  “Why would I get rid of a perfectly good jewel? It’s a fake,” Steward said.

  “Why are you guarding a fake jewel?” Puja asked.

  “So you don’t hurt yourself.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Fine, I’m going to put it back. If you want to take it again, the temple doors open tomorrow morning. Early. You can be the first one to walk through, and you can take the linga before anyone even notices it’s returned.”

  “What kind of person do you think I am? I’m not going to steal from a temple.”

  Steward shrugged. “I don’t think that when people take things it has much to do with being good or bad. I think it has to do with desperation. Maybe greed. Maybe ignorance.”

  “Why are you putting it back?”

  “If I told you a dead cat told me to, would you believe me?”

  “No.”

  “To reach nirvana?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Go find your friend. I think he’s hiding by the stream. Take him somewhere more comfortable. Find me tomorrow. No doubt you know where I’m staying. I’ll give you twice the payment you’re working for now to leave the jewel alone.”

  “Did you say ’linga’?”

  “Yes. Linga. Now go. Please.”

  Puja looked suspicious, but she began to walk toward the creek.

  He watched her go, and as she disappeared, two more figures appeared moving toward him.

  “Sam. Maggie,” Steward said.

  They stopped.

  “Ed? Bud?” Maggie asked.

  “No. My name’s Steward. I need a hand.”

  * * * * *

  Jet looked into the window of her hotel room. She could see Mrs. Mae on the couch holding a gun. Sujata sat on the floor sheltering the baby. Both were crying. Jet could never have imagined herself so happy to hear her baby scream. A hand grabbed her shoulder. Jet stifled her own scream, grabbed the hand and spun to face her attacker. He was taller than her. Lean and covered in dust. Jet whispered, “If you work for her, get the fuck away before I kill you. I take it back, I don’t care who you are, get back before-”

  “Jet?” he whispered back.

  She took a better look at him. “Ed? What happened to you?”

  “Are you real?”

  “Of course I’m real.”

  “Oh good. Look Jet, I’m really sorry for whatever-”

  “Now isn’t the time. Your mom’s in there. She has a gun. The baby, and babysitter are both crying. Ed, look, I know you think the best of your mom, but before she shoots someone we need to disarm her. Okay?”

  Ed nodded. He could hear Bud charging at him from behind and yelling, “I knew I’d catch you!”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Bud.” Ed frowned. “Mother loves him. She won’t shoot.”

  Jet looked into the darkness. “I don’t think she’ll recognize him.”

  Ed looked back at Bud. Sweat was running down Bud’s face leaving behind darker streaks of mud. His indigo bandana still clung to his head and hung over one eye. His shirt sleeve was torn and his shoulder was bleeding. Ed laughed. “You’re right, but she’ll be surprised. I’ll send him through the front. Is there a back?”

  Jet nodded.

  “You go in through the back,” Ed said.

  She shook her head. “No, you go through the back. I’m going to throw Bud through the window.”

  “You can’t throw a grown man through a window, Jet.”

  “Trust me. I’m 30 percent stronger than you think.” She gave Ed a push in the direction of the back door. He fell to his knees and then scrambled around the corner.

  * * * * *

  Bud ran after the Bad Hurter Man. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest and his ears. He thought that his lungs and legs were hurting, but he couldn’t think of stopping while there was evil on the loose. He ran as fast as he could.

  The world around him pulsed a block print pattern. Things close by were outlined in thick lines of bright pink, orange, and yellow. Only the shape ahead was a shade of night. He shot slow-down beams out of his hands each time they moved forward. It seemed to be working. “I knew I’d catch you,” he shouted. He picked up his pace. He saw The Night Shape fall and start to pick itself back up. “I’ll get you,” he yelled again and then he felt two hands grab him, one on each hip. Then he was flying through the block printed air, a few bright outlines zinged close to his face and then he soared into bright light. It must be day now. I must have banished the night shape, he thought.

  There was a woman holding a baby and they were crying. Sadness, Bud thought. Tears welled up in his eyes. If a baby’s crying, there must be more evil nearby. Then he heard a bad sound. A shot. It was loud. He hit the floor with his bleeding shoulder first. Ouch. He rolled over and checked that his bandana was still in place. Then he saw it. Familiar features hardened with rage. It held a gun. It wore black. Who but the bad guy, wears black in this hot and block print land? “You give yourself away, gunslinger.”

  The gunslinger raised a shining white gun.

  “Gun of a good guy? Confused. The Captain says bye-bye.”

  * * * * *

  Ed ran through the back door with the words “bye-bye”. He ran for the front room. He told himself to be ready for anything. He needed to be ready to respond. To accept the possibility of fighting his own mother.

  There she was, standing in front of the couch, arm raised, gun in hand. Engrossed by something on the floor. Ed felt like his stomach had dropped about a foot lower in his body. Bud. I’ve killed Bud. Tears jumped to his eyes. No time for sadness, he thought. Jet jumped through the window. He had to take the gun from his mother before she could shoot his wife too.

  * * * * *

  Bud had dropped to the floor, checked his bandana and then stuck his hands straight out over his head. He spun toward the source of evil. Shapes and colors whirled by. Red, blue, pulsing pattern, dancing fluorescents, zing, zang. Red, blue, p
ulsing pattern, dancing fluorescent, zing, zang. Red, blue, pulsing pattern, dancing fluorescent, zing, zang. He thought that maybe he’d be sick. “Keep moving Captain,” he said aloud to encourage his forward progress. Then something stopped him.

  * * * * *

  Sam unloaded his pack, put a headlamp on and gave one to Steward and another to Maggie.

  Steward pointed his light at the necklace “I need that.”

  “Then what?” Sam asked.

  “Well, it needs to be placed on an altar in the temple, but for now, you can just bring it down.”

  “How was Jet going to put it there?”

  “There’s an opening in the roof.”

  Sam looked up. “We can put it in there for you.”

  Maggie nodded.

  People rarely offered to help Steward. He worked alone. He planned and then hired people to execute. Tonight though, he was tired. He was worried. He wanted to follow Jet. He wanted to see the baby. To see Ed. To see Eileen. Bud. And what about the poor babysitter? He’d heard two more shots fire since Jet had run off.

  He looked at Sam and Maggie. They were offering help without the promise of anything in return. He looked up at the emerald hanging from the clasped hands of the couple above. He looked back at Sam and Maggie. They, too, were holding hands.

  “I don’t understand how you’ll do it, but you look so certain. If you can’t, just bring it back. I have to...,” This hardly seemed like the time to worry them. “...walk that way.” He started walking. “The openings are near the peak of the roof. Be careful. When you’re done you can find me in the hotel over there.” Steward pointed. “I’m staying in one of the cabins in the back. The lights’ll be on.”

  “Yup,” Sam said into his pack. “Go check on our family.”

  Steward stopped and waited while Sam spoke.

  “We can do this. You can’t. Go. We’ll catch up and, please...,” Sam said, looking up, “...suggest a name for the baby.”

  * * * * *

  She’d expected Steward and Jet to walk in through the front door, or to come in through the window. After all, Steward had been entering through the window lately. Instead, the dirtiest creature she’d ever seen flew in. It flopped onto the floor, displaying no natural reflexes for self-preservation. It adjusted its bandana and threw its arms out over his head and began to roll.