Axel got in his work truck, exhausted from the day, but the night was just getting started. It crept in with tiny steps, sneaky and quiet, threatening to pilfer peace, and exchange it with catastrophe.
He seized his phone from the dashboard, and made an important call.
“Okay, it’s time. I need to confirm for the final time. Are you certain he’s there? It’s really him?”
“Yes,” Legend explained. “He fell for the bait, and said he’s coming by himself, but we know that probably isn’t true. This man trusts no one.”
“As he shouldn’t. He’s crazy, not stupid.” He disconnected the call.
He put his white, unmarked business truck in drive, then entered the flow of evening traffic.
‘Night Crawling,’ by John Cale played from his stereo, and he lit a cigarette as he headed over to the old, abandoned cathedral. Visions of broken stained-glass windows, Ms. Florence bowing her head to pray, and smokey images of his father cutting his wrist real slow while in his bed when he was just a little boy edged their way into his mind like maggots. After he and Tommy had that powwow and spoke hard truths, it was strange how even some of the shit Axel had buried and tried to forget re-entered his brain and forced him to rewatch the old movies of his past. The black, sticky tar of trauma came dripping down, shrouding everything in despair—but he stood his ground. Snatching himself out of his thoughts, he focused on the issue at hand. Using the Bluetooth, he commanded his phone to call his mother.
“Oh, my Lord, Axel. Now you know I’m old and asleep. I can’t stay up past nine PM it seems!” Mama laughed. He could hear her television faintly in the background.
“Hi, Mama. Sorry to wake you. Just wanted to tell you that I love you is all.”
“Oh… well… I love you too, Axel. More than you’ll ever know.” She yawned. “I spoke to English yesterday. We’re going to meet up for lunch soon. I’m excited about the weddin’. I am so happy for y’all.”
He smiled at her words. “Yeah, she told me y’all were getting together soon. She’s excited about it, too. Look, uh,” he ran his hand down the side of his face, then slowed as he approached a red light. “I just got off work, and I’m dog tired. Not going to hold you. I just wanted to hear your voice, Mama, and tell you how much I appreciate you. Even when I was givin’ you trouble when I was a youngin, I knew how hard you worked so Dallas and I could have a decent shot at life. You’re one in a million, Mama.”
“…Are you high?”
He burst out laughing, then she followed suit.
“No, Mama, I’m not high.”
“You don’t normally talk to me like this. It’s a pleasant surprise, but I ’preciate it all the same. I’ll see you next week. Call me tomorrow, ya hear?”
“Okay. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, honey.”
He ended the call, took a few puffs of his cigarette, then made another call.
CALL… TOMMY…
He didn’t expect the old man to answer. Tammy said he’d been drinking himself into a stupor the last few weeks, far worse than before. That truth serum knocked him off of his feet, and Axel was certain he still hadn’t heard even half of his old man’s true tales. The truth was Tommy’s kryptonite, and he’d OD’d on it.
“Hello?” He knew from the tone alone, the old man was pissy drunk. Instead of it making him angry, he felt all the sorrier for him.
“Daddy, you probably won’t even remember this because you’re wasted, but I just want to tell you that I love you. That’s it.”
“…I… I love you too, son… I hi-dirk-fed…” The phone began to break up.
“Daddy, I can’t hear you. You’re breakin’ up on me.”
“Oh… I fell on my ass.” The old man burst out laughing. “Can you hear me now?”
Axel smiled sadly, and tapped his hand against the steering wheel.
“Yeah, I can hear you now, Daddy… I hear your evil, and I hear your goodness, too. I gotta go. Be careful.”
He disconnected the call and kept on driving. When he arrived at the old Catholic church with its boarded-up windows and dark smudges from a fire that had taken place in the 1990s, he looked around the parking lot and spotted a black Land Rover parked by itself. Tossing his cigarette out of the window, he cleared his throat and cracked his neck. He kept on driving until he was past the church, but kept it in his line of sight. It wasn’t long before another car pulled up next to it.
His heart beat like a snare drum…
“He’s got company.”
His next breath, his will to live in the flesh, stepped out of a black van. English was wearing all white from head to toe, and her black hair was brushed away from her face. No makeup. A glum expression. Two women stood near English, and one had her by the arm, practically dragging her in front of a guy he knew by name and reputation. English appeared calm, despite the situation, but he was fast losing his grip on self-control.