by Bergen, KC
He couldn’t help but wonder why he had to leave his dad’s office just because this sleazy actor had shown up? Michael wanted to know how things were going. The last thing he wanted was to hurt his mom, and Novak wasn’t such a bad guy after all.
The door to his dad’s office swung open so hard it slammed against the wall, and Tristan marched into the hallway. He was pressing a napkin against his mouth as if he’d eaten something messy, but he came across as angry rather than full.
“What’s wrong?” Amber asked Tristan. But he strode past her and Michael without so much as a word or a glance. Amber put down the book and walked toward Brian’s office. Michael was sad to see her go, although she was a sight to behold from behind as well. Her ample butt cheeks bounced against her skintight dress with every step.
Michael snapped out of it. His dad!
He hopped out of the couch and ran past Amber. His father was rubbing an ice cube on his swollen eye. “Dad! Are you okay? What happened?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Brian glanced at Amber in the doorway. “Go home. We’re done for the day.”
Amber gathered her purse and jacket. As she left the office, Michael realized that the fairytale was over. He checked his watch. “I have to be at my mom’s house in an hour. I told her I’d be home by then.”
“She can wait,” Brian said. “Let me tell you, son—when I met your mom she didn’t even want to have a baby.”
“She didn’t want me?”
“Why does everything have to be about you?” Rubbing his swollen eye, Brian put a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Listen, sometimes you have to do whatever it takes to make it. I could have had any woman I wanted, but I picked her. And I wasn’t going to let her deprive me of a son. So what did I do?”
“I don’t know.”
“I did what had to be done. If you could see the goal right there in front of you, would you let a thin layer of rubber prevent you from scoring?”
“I guess not?”
“That’s right. So I poked holes in every condom I bought. Well, not every. Just the ones I used on your mom. Anyway, within a couple months your mom got pregnant. And here you are, playa. My man—slap me some skin!”
Michael left his dad hanging. Although he didn’t fully believe in the credibility of his dad’s story, just the fact that he was telling it seemed wrong on so many levels.
Brian grabbed Michael’s hand and slapped it. “Don’t think about it,” Brian said. “When you’re working toward a goal, you can’t let anything get in the way. You just aim for your target and go for it. All in, full focus.”
Michael figured his dad must have been joking about the condoms. But maybe he had a point about aiming for your target and going for it. “Hey Dad, there’s this girl in my class. Melissa. She, uh …”
“Spit it out, playa.”
“Well, I want to ask her out, but I don’t know if I should.”
“Does she have a good body?”
“She’s twelve, Dad.”
“Still, you can tell if she’s got a good hip-to-chest ratio. Has her tits started growing?”
“Dad!”
“These are legitimate questions. Okay, how does her mom look?”
“She looks all right.”
“All right? Buddy, listen, if the mom’s fat and ugly, chances are the daughter is going to get fat and ugly. She might look good for a couple years, then puberty hits and she starts growing in all the wrong places. You can still hit it; just don’t commit to it. You know what I’m saying?”
“I guess.”
“All I’m saying is don’t fall in love with a chick that’s bound to turn into a pig. No matter how much makeup you put on a pig, it’s still a pig.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“You’re welcome, son. You know you can always talk to me.” Brian poured himself a double scotch and popped the ice cube he’d used on his eye into the glass.
“How’s the plan working?” Michael asked.
“There’s been a few changes but I’m handling it. I don’t want you to worry about a thing, playa.” Brian had a sip of scotch. “It’s probably best if you don’t know anything. I mean, in case some serious shit has to go down.”
41
Novak wanted nothing more than to hold Mary and kiss her with all the passion his heart desired. And judging by the pounding in his chest and the tingling sensation throughout his body, desire and passion were taking hold of him. Just as he scooted closer to her in the couch, the doorbell rang. Mary told Novak that it was probably Michael. Disappointed by the bad timing, Novak went to his room to give them some privacy.
“Did you have fun at Danny’s house?” Mary asked.
“It was all right,” Michael lied, having been dropped off by his dad just out of sight down the road. He gave a fake yawn. “Man, I’m tired. I think I need a nap.”
Upstairs, as Michael was heading for his room, he heard a hum emanating from Novak’s room. He crept closer to the door, which was ajar. Michael cautiously peeked inside.
Novak was sitting on the bed. “You should knock before you enter.”
“I thought you were dying or something.”
“I was just breathing. Chilling. You look worried.”
“Me?”
“Yes. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You can talk to me. Come in.”
Novak’s disarming smile drew Michael in. Novak swung his legs over the side of the bed and patted the mattress for Michael to have a seat.
“Well, there’s this girl,” Michael said, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Novak. “Melissa. I don’t know, I’m thinking about asking her out. Or maybe just to dance or something like that, at this fundraiser that’s coming up. I don’t know if I should, though. I mean, what if she’s really a pig?”
Novak chuckled. “If she’s a girl, then she’s not a pig.”
“I didn’t mean it literally. I mean, like, I don’t want to commit to it if I can just hit it.”
“You should never hit a woman.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. My dad said … Forget it.” Michael was about to hop off the bed and leave when Novak stopped him with his hand.
“When you see Melissa,” Novak asked, “does your heart beat fast?”
“Sometimes.”
“Does your palm sweat when she talks?”
“Yeah, kind of.”
Novak gazed across the room, thinking of Mary. “And when she laughs, do you just want to hug her and never let her go?”
Michael shifted uncomfortably. “Something like that, yeah.”
Novak grabbed Michael’s left shoulder and leaned close. “Then do not hesitate. Always be loyal to your true feelings. When they speak, you must listen. When they tell you to act, you must act. Or you’ll get lost.” Novak picked up his wooden shepherd figurine from the nightstand and handed it to Michael. “You must be like a humble shepherd. Sometimes the animals know best, and then you follow. But you are their leader.”
Michael looked at the shepherd figurine in his hand.
“Go ahead, keep it.”
“Thank you.” Michael spotted the photo of Oleg. “Is that your dad?”
“It’s Oleg, my grandfather.”
“What does he do?”
“I love him, but he is no longer a shepherd. You are, Michael. Or you can be.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes. I can see it in your eyeballs.”
42
Mary was on her way to her office when she heard Novak chattering in his room. She picked up on Michael’s voice too, so she crept close enough to overhear the entire conversation between her son and their Slovenian guest.
Standing there in the hallway outside Novak’s room, Mary was moved by the shepherd’s words. As she walked away, though, she was also confused. One moment he was stripping for a gang of elderly women, the next he was giving great advice to her son. And what had Michael said about Melissa? That she might r
eally be a pig and he didn’t want to commit to it if he could just hit it? Only Brian could have told her son something so stupid and misleading.
Mary went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. Then she heard a knock at the front door. She spotted a pair of legs through the peephole. Someone was slumped up against the frame. She recognized the pants and shoes.
“Tristan?” she asked.
“It is I,” he croaked.
Mary carefully opened the door and supported Tristan’s back. He was bleeding from his mouth. “You’re hurt!” She helped him up. “What happened?”
Tristan dragged his feet inside to the nearest chair. “Had to protect … mother and child.”
“You need to see a doctor.”
“Njet. I think I’m okay.” He inspected the bloody napkin and his bruised hand. Both his lip and knuckles were swollen. “The hand of love … is okay.”
“You don’t look okay. We should get you to the hospital.”
“No. The KGB health insurance is crap. Very high deductible. Besides, it’s a matter of security. A cheaper—I mean safer—option is urgent care. Is there an urgent care facility nearby?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s go there instead.”
Mary put Tristan’s right arm around her neck and led him to her car. She drove as fast as possible, and they made it to the urgent care facility in under ten minutes. Fortunately, there were only a few people in the waiting area. Mary signed Tristan in, and as soon as they’d taken a seat she whipped out her cell phone.
“Who are you going to call?” he asked.
“I need to tell Michael and Novak that we’ll be gone for a while.”
“No! You can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“I suspected it and now it’s confirmed: Novak is a spy.”
“What?” Shocked, Mary covered her mouth.
“The Eastern European terror cell is preparing an attack.”
“On who?”
“We haven’t been able to confirm their targets yet, but a hostile move is imminent. The less you know, the better.”
“Oh my God, he’s with my son right now! We have to call 911.”
“No, we can’t involve the police. Novak will use Michael as a shield, maybe kidnap him and vanish even before the cops arrive.” Tristan discreetly opened his jacket to show Mary his handgun. “All you need is right here in front of you.”
Mary wasn’t completely reassured. Tristan’s injuries suggested they were up against a formidable opponent. “How—why—what does he want?”
“To undermine American democracy.”
Mary frowned. “I thought the Russians were doing that.”
“That’s … fake news. The Slovenian cell has been using the diversions created by the fake media to set up its own operation. The car wash, for example.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Slovenians are bugging vehicles. A lot of politicians, CEOs, and other powerful men wash their cars there.”
“What about the dating site?”
“It’s most likely being used to insert spies into US territories.”
“That’s crazy. But I met you there as well.”
“I know. But I am here to protect mother and child. You and Michael. I just never thought I’d meet someone as wonderful as you.”
Consumed with her son’s safety, Mary didn’t feel flattered.
“Why is your son hanging out with the Slovenian spy?” Tristan asked.
“Novak quit his job.”
“Really? Damn. That means the Slovenians have moved into phase two of their operation.”
“Is my son safe?” she asked, her voice trembling with fear.
Tristan cradled her hand. “Da. I will see to it.”
***
The doctor finished up his medical examination. “The good news is that you have not suffered any fractures,” he said. “You have sustained a contusion of your wrist and two bruised knuckles, but that’s all.” Sitting on the examination table, Tristan gave a thumbs-up to Mary, who was seated in the corner of the doctor’s office. “The bad news is,” the doctor continued, “your split lip will require a couple of stitches.”
“Is it really necessary, doc?”
“Well, unless you want a nasty scar, possibly a skin flap sticking out on a permanent basis, I’d say so.”
“All right, let’s do it then.”
While the doctor prepared his needle and thread, Mary’s mind started racing. She’d left her son with a spy. An Eastern European spy! She’d seen enough movies to know that these situations were perilous.
“So what do we do now?” Mary asked.
Tristan moved his head.
“Please hold still,” the doctor said, pinching his patient’s lip.
“I’ve got a plan,” Tristan said. “Ouch!”
“I said hold still.”
“My hand is forced,” Tristan added.
“The hand of love?”
“Correctamundski. Ow!”
The doctor completed the second stitch. “Your lip should heal in a few days, and the stiches will dissolve on their own.”
Grimacing, Tristan touched his mouth. “Doctor, my lip hurts. How am I going to be able to sleep?”
The doctor wrote a prescription and handed it to Tristan. Mary swung by the pharmacy across the street, and they picked up a bottle of Triazolam sleeping pills. As they drove off, Tristan inspected the bottle.
“Are you going to kill him?” Mary asked.
“I will do whatever it takes to keep you and Michael safe. But we must not let this murderous spy suspect that we’re onto him. He’s armed and extremely dangerous.”
43
Michael and Novak were watching TV in the living room when Mary and Tristan returned. Outside in the hallway, Tristan whispered to Mary that she had to stay calm and act as if everything was perfectly normal. Why not offer them something to eat or drink?
She cheerfully greeted her son and the harmless shepherd, trying to convince herself that this was what Novak represented, and offered them a refreshment. Meanwhile, Tristan went into the kitchen to crush a handful of sleeping pills. Mary soon joined him as she fetched a pitcher of lemonade from the fridge.
“Do you want some lemonade too?” she asked.
“Sure.”
Mary placed four glasses on the counter and filled them up.
“Do you have something cold to eat?” Tristan asked. “You know, to soothe my lip.”
“I’ve got ice cream.”
“That’d be great.”
As soon as Mary started rummaging through the freezer, Tristan slipped half of the crushed sleeping pills into one glass, and the rest into another. He stirred the glasses like a wicked man-witch.
Mary soon found him a tub of chocolate ice cream.
“You’re an angel,” he said, handing her the two glasses of spiked lemonade. “The glass on the right is for Novak and the other one is for Michael.”
Tristan grabbed the remaining two glasses and followed Mary into the living room. Mary handed Michael and Novak their drinks, and then took a seat in the middle of the couch, between her son and the spy.
Tristan handed Mary her glass and had a sip of his own. “This is delicious! Did you make it?”
Mary put on a brave smile and shook her head. “No, it is store bought.”
“Well, then here’s to the store,” Tristan said, raising his glass. They all drank some. “Ah. Yes, this stuff is loaded with carbs and electrolytes. Great for working out, pole dancing, washing cars, or a strange mix of the three.”
“I quit,” Novak muttered.
“Only losers quit,” Tristan said.
“What are you guys talking about?” Michael asked.
“Here’s to winning new friends,” Mary proposed, thinking that Tristan was pushing things too far with the dangerous spy.
Novak chugged half his glass. “It’s very good. Thank you.”
“You’r
e welcome,” Tristan said, casting a furtive glance at Mary.
As they watched an episode of Family Feud, Mary noticed that Novak yawned. He’d drained his glass and was nodding off.
During the next commercial break, Tristan asked, “More lemonade, anyone?”
Novak was fast asleep, and so was Michael. Mary nudged her son, but he was unresponsive. Taken aback, she looked at Tristan.
“It’s been a long day for all of us,” Tristan said, stretching his arms.
“Did you put anything in my son’s drink?”
“Of course not,” Tristan said as he rose from the chair. “Unless something drifted into Michael’s cup.”
“What do you mean drifted?”
“His cup was right next to Novak’s, and we’re talking powder here. I may be a KGB officer, but I can’t control the movement of the air. Regardless, he’ll be fine. And if you think about it, this is perfect! Michael should not see us carry Novak outside.”
Mary found it suspicious that her son was also asleep, but on the other hand, Tristan had a point. Michael was probably better off not knowing that Novak was a spy. Or that they were taking him away. Or that Mary had brought a dangerous spy into the house in the first place. She shuddered at the thought. How irresponsible!
Tristan lifted Novak’s upper body and instructed Mary to grab the spy’s legs. Then they carried Novak outside to Tristan’s car and placed him on his side in the trunk. He was sleeping like a baby.
“What happens now?” Mary asked. “I don’t want to leave my son alone.”
“You’ve done a great service for your country,” Tristan said, “and the world. I’ll take it from here.” He kissed her cheek and hopped in the car.
Mary watched Tristan drive off into the dusk. Everything seemed like a dream, or perhaps it was more like a nightmare.
44
It was dark by the time Tristan made it to Ventura. He parked the Jag outside a run-down apartment complex. Fortunately, he lived on the first floor in a corner unit and he didn’t see anyone around. He picked up Novak and slung him like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. Having porked hundreds of girls over the years in many challenging positions, he—Peter, not Tristan—knew a thing or two about handling bodies. Although the Slovenian shepherd was a heavier load than Peter was used to, he managed to carry him inside without incident.
