Chapter Twenty-Five
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Flat as a Pancake Dinner
H e decided to leave while she was asleep…
Lennox managed to slip from beneath his slumbering baby. Nadia was snoozing so deeply, he imagined her as Snow White, only able to be awakened by a passionate kiss. He smiled down at her as he quietly got dressed, each of his movements measured and deliberate. He pulled his jeans up each leg, careful to not make any gestures that would force the fabric to kink against his skin, creating unnecessary friction and noise.
He carefully pulled out a white T-shirt from his overnight duffle bag and slipped it on. Keeping Nadia in his sights, he flashed a mischievous grin that he felt down to his bones. He was so proud of his handiwork in putting that pussy to sleep, just as he’d promised, killing it softly. My dick is like NyQuil. He chuckled within, but more importantly, he was pleased that her body had a habit of telling on her, revealing the secrets that roamed the hallways of her mind.
What her upper lips wouldn’t say, her lower ones would. As he’d made love to her the evening prior, her movements, facial expressions, and the relaxing and rigidifying of her body let him know that she was holding something painful inside. Trying to hide it from his prying eyes. Something awful and foul.
They were the same facial expressions she’d make when they’d worked at the restaurant so many years ago. The ones she’d produce when she was troubled about her father standing her up for another daddy-daughter visit, or her brother not wanting to come home and his whereabouts unknown. Maybe she’d gotten into a heated argument with her mother, but whatever the cause, that was the face she wore. Sometimes she didn’t want to talk about it. A shaken bottle of bubbly about to burst—only it wasn’t for a happy occasion but yet another crack in the foundation of her heart. Another loss of trust. Another blow to self-esteem. Another dream slipping down the crude coated drain of life.
But sometimes, those bad days he could make better. He treasured those moments. When he could turn her frown upside down.
He felt useful. Of service. That’s when he was at his best. She gave that to him, wanting nothing more than a little of his time. When she did want to discuss her problems, he’d listen. Sometimes he’d offer a bit about himself too, as much as he safely could so she’d feel more comfortable. He didn’t want her to know what his surname meant in their town. He wanted his family and past to fade away like days on a calendar, and for her to see him for him , to understand that he was her friend purely out of enjoying her company, and his love for her.
He hated when she cried. She struggled often to hold back the tears, and then they’d pour down her velvety cheeks, making his heart break into a million pieces. He’d hug her, offer encouraging words. As he’d shelter her in his arms, her body would be stiff as a board, then it would loosen, unravel like a string of yarn as she released her pain against his frame.
And now, here they were. Ten years later. He realized when it came to how Nadia processed disappointment, nothing had changed. She wore her feelings on her sleeve only if she trusted you, and he was grateful for that. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that this woman was indeed his soulmate, for he was the same way—and their connection was deeper than any words uttered, in any language known to man.
There was nothing she could hide from him, even if she were invisible. Moreover, he understood that if she was being quiet—she felt it was for good reason. Not to be spiteful or duplicitous, but to protect the innocent, or plan retribution towards the wicked. He gave grace and forgiveness for her not being forthcoming, but he was determined to get to the bottom of it, nevertheless. With or without her admission.
Nadia, you sleep tight. I have some responsibilities to tend to. Once he had his shoes on, he grabbed his duffle bag, now filled with his clothes from the evening before, and other odds and ends.
He crept towards the bedroom door, opening and closing it slowly behind him. Walking to the front door of the apartment he completed his silent exit. Once he was in his truck on the highway, he turned on some music at high volume: Shaboozey’s, ‘A Bar Song.’ Soon, he arrived at his first stop. The junkyard. He was in and out in ten minutes. Getting back in his truck, he arrived next at the thrift store he’d Googled. It wouldn’t open for another five minutes. He took that time to reach for his Daniel Defense H9 in the glove compartment.
Setting it on his side, he patted it like he would an old friend, then tucked it out of sight. He clenched his teeth until his jaw ached, although the music provided a little distraction to the dark mood he was falling in bed with.
An employee unlocked the front door of the thrift shop. Just as he was about to get out of the truck, his phone rang. Ignoring it, he made his way inside the store. He was back out in four minutes. Getting back in his truck, he turned the music up high. He pulled onto the street and headed to the highway. Just then, his phone rang again. He glanced at the caller ID on the Bluetooth dashboard of his truck, expecting it to be Nadia ready to lay into him about sneaking off, but much to his surprise, it wasn’t.
He turned off the music, then pressed the ‘Answer Call’ button.
“Hello…”
“Jesus.” Silva exhaled loudly on the other end. He could hear what sounded like the outdoors. Birds. Wind. Even a wind chime. Perhaps she was standing on her deck with a cup of coffee. That was how I imagined her anyway.
“Mornin’, Len. This is my second time tryna reach you this morning. I had hoped you were still an early bird.”
“I am. I don’t sleep much. Mornin’, baby sis.”
“Yeah… so, uh, I’ve had some time to think, and that thinkin’ got me to thinkin’ some more. You should remember how I am when somethin’ don’t sit right in my spirit. Keeps me up until I get to the bottom of it.”
“Well, baby sis, to be honest wit’ cha, I wish you’d felt that way about mendin’ our relationship, but it seems I was the exception. You know what?” He laughed and waved his hand. “I’ll refrain from attackin’ you… I’m just still a lil’ riled up is all. I missed you. You called. That’s all that matters.”
“I understand your position. I get why you feel the way you do. I imagine I’d feel much the same way and though you may not think I deserve it, I would like for you to give me a moment here. I’m still processing this shit. I’ve been down a rabbit hole and can’t see the forest for the damn trees. So I don’t want to get sidetracked, alright? I got somethin’ to say, if you’ll allow it.”
“Mmmm hmmm. Go on ’head.”
“By the way, I haven’t smoked in years. I’m on my third cig since we spoke. Stole it from Tony’s stash.”
“I reckon your nerves are in a knot.” He casually switched to the fast lane.
“Somethin’ like that. I called off work today. Said I was sick. Tony’s at work, and I’m home alone. It’s for the best because I don’t want to have to explain this mess to him. At least not while I’m tryna get my own hands around it. Look, uh… things are pretty fucked up.”
“Indeed they motherfuckin’ are… Hold on… I’m behind some slow fuck. MOVE!” He honked his horn at someone in a Corolla in the fast lane going forty miles per hour.
“I meant what I said about your horrible attitude, Lennox, and your road rage right now shows you still got it in ya.” She chuckled. “But regardless of all of that, I still owe you a big apology. You were right. I took Grandpa’s word at face value, not believing he had any reason to lie to me, when he had every thing to lie about accordin’ to that there letter. I’ve read the letter several times. The one you said Grandpa sent you… did a little exploration, too.
“Initially, I was tryna convince myself that you wrote it yourself. A scheme of yours. Then I realized that’s not even your style, and the letter is written out just how Grandpa speaks when I’d hear him on the phone with Daddy. I’m a ‘details’ girl. I notice stuff like that—but I guess it took Captain Obvious to make me see what was right in front of my damn face.”
“Well Silva, when we love and trust someone, it’s easy to think everyone else is the bad guy, ’cept for them. You didn’t trust me anymore. That’s how he was able to keep this charade going.”
“That’s right. I have to deal with that reality, too.” She exhaled loudly, and he heard what sounded like slow walking. Pacing back and forth, maybe?
“Where are you?”
“Outside on the deck.” He smiled at that. “With a cigarette ’nd coffee.” Now he was laughing. “I’m faced right now with the fact that a man I adored, practically worshiped, is nothin’ like what I thought he was. I feel like my whole damn childhood was a lie. In my effort to prove you were full of shit, I did call our cousin.”
“Which one?”
“Kage. Problem was, he didn’t pick up when I called. Or he might have me blocked.”
“What makes you think he’d block you?”
“Because I cursed him out last Thanksgiving. He’d been drinkin’ and acted a plum fool. You weren’t there, of course. You haven’t come by Grandpa’s in a long while.”
“No, not voluntarily. Anyway, Kage wasn’t invited, Silva. Kage isn’t even allowed on the property anymore from what I understand.”
“Oh, he showed up all right… smashed and ready to rumble. He was escorted away. That’s a polite way to put it. As security was draggin’ him out the door, I gave him a few choice words. He jerked his head in my direction, and he sported the evilest look on his face, Len, paired with a sick smile. He told me he hoped I’d get what I deserved and some other crap I’d rather not repeat. He was real offensive. On purpose, naturally.”
“…Naturally.” He stifled a desire to burst out laughing.
“I don’t know if it was the booze talkin’ or truly his thoughts of me, Lennox. Something tells me it was the latter.” She exhaled loudly. “That was that.”
“Yup. Sounds like Kage.” He sighed. “His patience is a hell of a lot shorter than mine, and Grandpa has taken him through the wringer.”
“Kage is no angel, but I can only imagine. So, since I couldn’t get a hold of him, I called Roman.” Roman was another cousin on the outs with Grandpa. He’d been a Marine, but his record was marred with petty crimes, elaborate schemes, and other offenses instead of his great military service to the country. On top of it, Roman had a strange ability to memorize practically anything he laid eyes on. It helped him cheat in Vegas, and win big. His face was now on posters to never allow the bastard back into several casinos. “Have you spoken to Roman any time recently?”
“Yeah, I have actually, but we didn’t get too deep. Roman prefers to be the class clown, so to speak, so he wouldn’t really let on how he was feelin’ about all of this shit to me. I don’t even know if he’s takin’ it seriously, to be quite honest, but I damn sure hope so because Grandpa truly hates his guts. Makes everything even more ironic if you ask me. Anyway, what’d he say?”
“Well, he corroborated everything you said regardin’ the letters. Said y’all all got them, and were essentially abducted and required to have a meetin’ with Grandpa, the seven of ya. Said it was a real shitshow.” Silva went on to recap what had gone down, and he offered a nod here and there. What sounded completely absurd was in fact what had transpired, and only his family would do and condone such a thing. The Wildes were wild. Amen. “…And so, that’s that. I’ve been such a damn fool.” She laughed dismally. “You always told me, even when we were kids, that I was too na?ve… your codeword for stupid.”
“Nah, I called ya stupid sometimes, too. No codewords needed.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks. I appreciate you clearin’ that up.” They both had a good laugh at that.
“I’m sorry, well, kinda, but it’s obvious why. You’ve got a trustin’ heart, Silva.” He stroked his beard as his thoughts weaved together like a basket. “You believe people at their word unless they make you think otherwise. It makes you susceptible to attack from people with ill intentions is all.”
“Gullible? Well, I guess sometimes I can be.”
“It’s just that you’re a real good person, and you don’t see evil in the world because well, people like you have a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that such wickedness exists in the first place. To you, that type of shit only takes place in movies, ya know? I mean, despite the dysfunction in our extended family, what was goin’ on under our roof was good. It was wholesome. We had two parents who loved one another. They loved us, too. We never wanted for nothin’, and Mama taught manners and respect. Dad was funny, Mama was about business—but she was kind, too. After we walked out of that front door though, Silva, it was an entirely different world. Mama dyin’ was the first brick to fall. Then the whole damn thing came crashin’ down.”
She was quiet for a spell. “…He really did all these horrible things, Lennox? Don’t respond, ’cause it’s not a question. It’s me sayin’ it aloud. We’re talking ’bout the same Grandpa who cleaned my scraped knee when I fell ridin’ my new bike he bought me on my 7 th birthday. The same Grandpa who told me I could be anything I wanted to be when I grew up, then introduced me to a lady who was one of the first female firefighters in all of Houston… He taught me how to ride a horse, then bought me a pony for God’s sake! I still have the picture of him holding me when I was born. He was actually cryin’ tears of joy like he’d just won the lottery.
“He was like… Santa and Mr. Rogers rolled into one person, only he was my grandfather, and I loved him… I loved him…” She sniffed– fighting emotions he didn’t get a chance to have in life. Grandpa hadn’t claimed her for his evildoings. He marked me with the letter of the beast. “My mind knows the truth now. It’s my heart that’s broken.”
“Yeah, finding out the hard, ugly truth tends to do that.”
“I knew that, uh, Grandpa had dirty dealin’s in the business world. How could I not?” She chuckled miserably. “…But I didn’t think he’d do anything like this to family, you know? Not to Daddy. Not to my brother.” She cried for a bit, then cleared her throat. He didn’t interrupt, just let the dust settle. “I gotta mourn who I thought he was, and accept who he actually is. I need to get on a plane and go to Mama’s grave again. Visit her. I know she’s been seeing this… I have to apologize to her for me thinking she was bein’ dramatic.”
“No you don’t. She knows you were still a kid back then, Silva. You didn’t know any better.”
“…But you did. We’re only three years apart, and I’m an adult now. I should have known better. How could I be so blind?!”
“Three and a half, but who’s counting?”
“You know what’s so crazy to me? Roman said it so matter-of-factly, you know? What happened… Like he was describin’ a bad job interview with a negative CEO. Like it was no big deal. It showed me just how traumatized he was, Len, and he doesn’t even know it. Showed me how traumatized y’all are, really. ’Cludin’ Kage. I wanna tell you that I’m sorry. Sorry won’t fix this, all this time we’ve been estranged, but I’ll say it all the same because it’s long overdue.”
“Thank you. I accept your apology. It wasn’t all your fault, though. I could’ve been nicer. I made it easier for Grandpa to drive a wedge between us because I had been actin’ up. If we’d not been bumping heads at the time, it would’ve been harder for him to pull us apart.”
His sister was quiet on the other end for a long time. He gave her that space. That silence. He figured it was a lot to take in.
“So, I guess I shoulda asked you this at the beginning of the conversation, but I’ve been up all night, runnin’ on fumes. Not thinking straight. Sleep deprived ever since I spoke to you and Roman.”
“What do you want to ask me?”
“What have you been up to? How’s life been treatin’ you?”
“Life’s been difficult at times, baby sister, but it’s got some really pretty silver linings, if I say so myself.” He glanced at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. He was all smiles.
“Yeah? The gym, right? I can’t wait to see your plans for it. You know I want to help with design and things like that—if you need me of course.”
“Yeah, that’s an idea that’s worth exploring. The fitness center is definitely one of the things going right, but there’s something else, too. I ran into an old friend. Girl from when I worked at The Red Rooster. Always had a yearnin’ for her.”
“Oh, really? This is more than a fling, huh? You were always a ladies man. I used to hate when my friends would gush over you when they’d come over. ‘Oh, your brother is so dreamy!’, ‘Lennox is sooo cute!’ I’d say, ‘Gross!’ To me, you were the same big brother who’d fart in my face and would run off laughin’, leave the kitchen a mess and watch a bunch of gross, gory movies at high volume, and then laugh about all the killing. Let’s not talk about your porno DVD collection. Must’ve been hundreds of them. You were disgusting.” She giggled, and he couldn’t help but follow suit.
“Yeah, I guess I was kinda gross back then. This is the real deal, though.”
“What’s her name?”
“Nadia. We met about ten years ago at the restaurant. Both of us worked there. You might remember me talking about her sometimes.”
“The name does ring a bell, but I can’t picture her.”
“Well, she moved to Georgia, and then about four or five months ago we saw each other again. I was workin’ one night at the club, and she came in. We’ve been inseparable ever since. She’s always had my heart. The one that got away.”
“Oh my goodness, that sounds so romantic.” He could hear the smile in his sister’s voice.
“That’s my lady. My baby. We’re, uh, we’re in a relationship now.”
“Oh my goodness, a lot has changed, hasn’t it? My brother is now the settlin’ down type. I love that for you. I always thought you’d make a good husband and father… You were usually pretty responsible. Reliable.” Her voice trailed towards the end. “…I guess that’s why I couldn’t so easily dismiss the fact that you’d been paying the bills when Grandpa had fired Dad. I never knew anything about that.”
“I know you didn’t. Yeah, well, I always knew that eventually I’d get married, too. Have some kids. Just wasn’t sure when. I wasn’t picky enough sometimes about who I slept with, but definitely was picky about who I was serious about.”
“I can’t argue with that. Nadia… Nadia… yeah, I definitely remember you mentionin’ her a long time ago. Your work buddy.”
“Yeah, but over time, we both liked each other more than just as friends. Everything worked out. She’s the one, Silva… I’m in love, baby sis. Gonna ask her to marry me soon, too.” His heart pounded damn near out of his chest at the thought of it all.
“Well hell! I have missed a lot!”
“I doubt she’ll be surprised when I pop the question though because I already told her early on that she was gonna be my wife. She knows I mean what the hell I say.”
“Wow. I have to meet her.”
“You will.”
“So… what are we gonna do?”
“What are we gonna do? About what ?”
“About Grandpa, Lennox?!”
He smirked at that. “What are we gonna do? We’re going to do nothing , Silva. I’m doin’ something though. You best believe that. You just stay out of this. I don’t want you gettin’ hurt.”
“I’m as hurt as I can be already, Lennox. I wanna help. I have to help. I can’t let him do this to you and just sit back and do nothing.”
“Nope. It’s not up for discussion.”
“Mama would roll over in her grave if she found out I fell for his tricks. I just feel so damn stupid. After all the terrible things he said about Mama, you have to let me help make this right, Len!” The woman’s voice shook, as if she were on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “He never said those things to me about her. I knew they didn’t care for one another too much, but Grandpa was certainly not disrespectful in my presence, and then to find out he is willing to destroy our grandparents’ lives for this shit?! All because you disobeyed him? NO. I won’t have it, Lennox!” He bit down on his lower lip while gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “When I didn’t know the information, I had an excuse to keep wearing blinders. Now I know the truth, and it’s so dreadful… Daddy drinks himself into a stupor, and is being manipulated. Just like I was, I suppose.”
“Dad made his bed. He can lie in it. He had the nerve to tell me to give in and just accept the job. All so he could get the pressure off his back and for things to return to the status quo. Spiteful business as usual. Somebody needs to sell some damn spines on Amazon, eBay, or Etsy so that our father can buy himself one. Fuckin’ jellyfish.”
“Len, he grew up in this shit. Cut him some slack. He has it worse than we did… You know he loves you. Daddy is just lost is all.” He sucked his teeth. “You were dealin’ with this all on your own, and that’s what I wanna focus on. That’s over. Not anymore. He has to be stopped, Lennox.”
“Yeah, he does have to be stopped, but like I said, you aren’t part of the plan. Now I want you to relax and stop thinkin’ about all of this. I’ve got some business to tend to. Let me holler at you later, okay?”
“Do you promise to call me back?” Silva sounded so pitiful. It made his heart ache.
“Of course I will. In the meantime, when it comes to Grandpa, keep actin’ typical. That’s what you can do for me. It’s important that he not know that we’ve made up and you’ve been filled in on what actually went down. Act like you don’t even know the truth, okay? Keep smilin’ in his face, and whatever it is you two normally do.”
“It’ll be hard, but I’ll do it. Lennox, I’m not going to have you—”
“No, Silva. Whatever you are going to say, the answer is no. I don’t care how much you beg. He doesn’t care who he has to take down to get his way. He just wants to destroy me, make me suffer, and he wants me to live to endure it. Death would be too easy and forgiving in his mind. I’m the guardian, not you. I’ve always protected you, even when you hated my guts. Nothin’ is gonna change.”
“It’s too late to protect me from this!” Her tone was piercing. “He’s already hurt me! The lies on top of lies, on top of lies! I know you thought I was stickin’ to him like glue because of all the money he gave me and Tony over the years, and the strings he pulled for our careers, but that’s not true at all. You didn’t say it, but I know how you think.” He couldn’t deny that initially, it definitely crossed his mind. “He’s tryna ruin my brother’s life and destroy my mother’s legacy by bringing up her past, which we know in her community back in Lebanon is a reputation destroyer.”
“He still might do it. Problem is, he now knows that won’t deter me.”
“Shit! We know how Mama’s culture is in the old town. The entire family over there will be shunned.”
“And somehow the old man knows that.”
“What a sickening thing to do. She’s dead, for God’s sake! I felt sorry for myself when it first hit me that you were tellin’ the truth, Len, and then, I felt nothin’ but rage. That’s my mama, too! I’ll do what you asked for now, but not forever. I’m in this whether you like it or not!”
Lennox took a deep breath. “Don’t tell Tony about this. We’ll discuss it further later.”
“Sooner rather than later. This ain’t right, and I need somethin’ done about it. NOW. I owe it to you. I owe it to Mom. I owe it to Dad. I owe it to myself.” The call ended before he had the opportunity to respond.
He sat with their conversation for a few moments, replaying it in his mind. Soon, he pulled into a lot full of construction vehicles. Richmond Premier Rentals was the name of the place. He took note of the black and white sign, the letters faded. The gate was open so he drove through, parking next to a dump truck that appeared to be receiving mechanical services, seeing as how the hood was up and one of the tires was missing.
The sounds of big machinery could be heard moving all around the dirt pathways. He slipped his gun into his back pocket, then grabbed his duffle bag and phone. He opened his photo library, selecting a recent video he’d been sent. He watched it again, and again, and again…
His life of being a blue-collar worker who’d worked all sorts of jobs proved to be invaluable after all. It had taught him about people, about life skills and human frailty. He’d never been afraid of a hard day’s work. He kept replaying the special video on his phone, memorizing the sounds, the light, the darkness…
His thoughts drifted in and out of sanity… He lamented over the scene in the video, tag teaming with thoughts over the careers he’d had in his lifetime that helped make him who he was today. His thoughts drifted back to working the land. He’d done a lot of odd jobs, even getting his trucker’s license at one point, and was employed in warehouses using forklifts, too. For over a year, he’d worked a construction job. He didn’t believe any labor was beneath or above him. He sat there and pondered why his woman would leave the club, on her last day of work of all days, and behave in such a manner. No call. No text. Short replies and conversation. Stiffness in a hug. Want and need in her eyes. Her body bent toward him. Cried out. Nadia was a creature of habit but only those who knew her well understood this.
To an outsider, she appeared to be a fly by the seat of her pants type of person, when in actuality, everything she did was calculated, planned, and well thought out.
This isn’t like her. Something messed up happened. When we fucked, I could feel it… I’m right. I just know it. Who did this? It had to be that bastard who followed her home and damaged her car. Maybe it was the ex-boyfriend who’d threatened to come into town and hurt her over that money? Nah. There’s no way it could be him. It’s got to be the club dude.
He was going to keep digging around in the ground until he got to the root of it all and uncovered the truth, and then he was going to yank it up by the stem. Expose it. The evening before he’d arrived at Nadia’s apartment, he’d followed up on a prior inquiry. It was time to find out if the information he’d been seeking was now available. He’d been waiting a while. Before quitting time at the club the night prior, he followed up on his lead. He got into his truck and dialed the right number. Spoke to the right person. He needed more information before he made his move, but he needed it fast. Time to pull the trigger. Nothing would stand in his way.
One of the issues to deal with was a fucker named Dice. Nadia’s graphic police report detailed a night of horror: A man who’d attempted to follow her home and used his vehicle to intimidate her in order to cause her emotional and physical harm had been arrested, but some fucking way, released on bond soon thereafter. The police had it all on film. There was no denying it. And yet, he’d walked away. He flipped through scanned images of a police report, too, then replayed that video.
You deserve to be eatin’ dirt sandwiches, motherfucker… The anger and fear in his baby’s eyes tore through his soul—the way her car jerked forward so hard, it was a wonder she didn’t go flying out the windshield… You wanna play bumper cars? It’s your time to shine, bitch…
She’d told him all about the incident, but seeing it on actual tape brought it to a whole new level. He had a sneaking suspicion that Dice may have shown back up at the club her last night of performing.
She didn’t tell me because she’s afraid of my reaction. Afraid I’ll get in some trouble tryna track him down and make him pay for this. Well, that’s too damn bad…
Thanks to utilizing the resources of a highway patrol officer he trained at the gym, he had a copy of the footage now, too. He watched it right before he drove to her apartment the evening prior, then replayed it several times that morning as he stood next to her refrigerator, brewing not only coffee, but contempt. Each time he replayed it, his mood became a little darker. His thirst for revenge, untamable and sharper. He had a plan. And it was a good one.
It fueled him to make a move. The fucker had to pay. Eye for an eye. Dog tooth for a dog tooth. He got out of his truck, slipping on a pair of sunshades and a dark brown skull cap. He entered the rental office, noting how chilly it was inside the cramped place that smelled of burnt coffee. A timeworn radio sat on the hostess window shelf, playing deep-rooted rhythm and blues songs.
A middle-aged white lady with sallow skin sat behind the counter, her thin-rimmed silver glasses practically dangling off the end of her tiny, pointy nose.
“Hello, may I help you?” She peered at him with small hazel eyes. Dainty gold hoop earrings gleamed from her lobes.
“Yes ma’am. I called earlier ’bout rentin’ a bulldozer for some of the contractors over yonder. They’re one short and I don’t want that to slow anything down. We’re on a tight schedule. I won’t be personally usin’ it, but I’m licensed to drive it over to the property for demolition work. Tryna save them a little time.”
“Oh yes, you must be Mr. Williams, right? Called this mornin’ at the crack of dawn?” She chuckled.
“Yes, ma’am. Like I said on the phone, I recently bought some property that needs tendin’ to.” He pulled out his alter-ego ID and passed it to her. The guy in the picture looked somewhat like him, but to a discerning eye, there were enough differences to question it. She looked at it from over her glasses as she drank what appeared to be water from a small green paper cup, taking her sweet time.
“I know you said you won’t be doing the work, Mr. Williams, but you requested to drive it over.” She handed him back his driver’s license.
“That’s right. All those guys are busy and I figured I could help them meet their deadline if I just grabbed it myself.”
“Alright, that’s fine, but in the state of Texas we can’t let you just go off with a bulldozer without the proper licensing.”
“Of course not. I completely understand. Ma’am, I’m accredited and authorized to drive that machine.”
“Can you give me the construction company’s license number please, and I need to see a copy of your certification and CDL, too.”
“I sure can. No problem.” Lennox reached into his wallet and pulled out a tri-folded piece of paper with detailed information from a random contractor, as well as his CDL information too, in Mr. Williams’ name.
She took the papers, looked them over, then got to her feet and walked away. She made copies of the documents and returned to the desk, handing everything back to him. Taking a noisy sip of her water, she got to typing on the computer.
“Looks like it’s gonna rain today, don’t it?” she questioned as her short dark pink painted nails hit the keys of her dated machine.
“It sure does. I figure we need it though. My grass is lookin’ mighty dry.”
“Mmm, hmmm. Yeah. Mine too. Lord knows it costs an arm and a leg to water our grass now. Rain will probably help. My poor petunias need it, too.” She turned away and started fiddling with a clipboard she had lying off to the side. “Okay, Mr. Williams, I’ve looked over everything, includin’ your certification, and it all looks fine and up to date. Please read, date, and sign this paperwork.”
With a nod, he did as she asked while another blues song played. Once it was all done, he handed her his credit card, also in the name of a Mr. Williams. It was interesting the crazy things you could learn to do by being a Wilde grandchild… Grandpa’s little tips of the trade come in handy every now and again, and the things I learned back in the day to cover my tracks after a kill are useful, too.
She offered him a silver key.
“Here’s the key to lot number fifty-two, Mr. Williams. Your rental is for two days, per the paperwork. Should you need an additional twenty-four hours, you can just call us and we’ll charge your card on file accordingly. Any more than that and you’ll need to return the vehicle, and sign an extended contact for re-rental, along with paying an additional fee.”
“Yes ma’am, understood. My truck is parked back this way,” He pointed to the front door. “Is it okay if I return to get my truck in an hour or two?”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. Just make sure you pick it up before we close today, or it’ll be locked inside. We close promptly at five P.M.”
“That’s plenty of time. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
They parted ways and he made his way to parking spot fifty-two, finding the bulldozer parked next to several others—all pristine, clean and in a row. Pulling a pair of surgical gloves out of his pocket, he slipped them on. He could barely curb his enthusiasm as he hopped in the correct machine, started it up, and felt the rumble and shake from the powerful piece of machinery. He hadn’t been on a bulldozer in years, and he kind of missed it.
Off he went from the lot then, tossing a glance at his parked truck as he made his way onto the street. According to his calculations, the place he needed to be was about twelve minutes away. That was why he’d specifically picked this rental place. It was closest to the sweet spot. Before he arrived at his destination, he pulled over to the side and opened his duffle bag. Time to get to work.
He pulled out a can of temporary hair dye spray and covered the machine in dark brown spots, strategically placed all over the bulldozer, creating simulated stains that resembled rust and corrosion. Some stains were big, others small. Then, he pulled out two sizable pieces of tire tread, cut them into smaller sections with a Steelman tire knife, and placed them on the bulldozer tires, adhering them with tire glue and vehicle cement to create confusion regarding the tread pattern of the vehicle. Junkyards were amazing for that sort of thing. Tires of all sorts. Most of them flat. He then reached back into his bag and put on a bright green jacket, as well as his sunglasses.
He tucked his necklace into his shirt, and switched hats, plopping an old, beat-up baseball cap on his head with the logo of a team everyone knew he hated: The Dodgers. It was amazing what you could find at thrift shops in the wee hours of the morning. The best fifty-nine cents he’d ever spent.
Getting back onto the bulldozer, he drove to his destination. It was still fairly early in the day, and not everyone was out and about. Wasn’t much traffic, either. Rather quiet, in fact. He drove up to the address he planned to party at, and sure as shit, he spotted what he was looking for…
A white Mitsubishi Eclipse, parked in the driveway of a modest brick house with blue curtains in the windows. You’re some big-time local rapper, huh? Well, I’ve got a rap song for you, too… He parked onto the street near the driveway, then turned the bulldozer off. Getting out of the machine, he checked the license plate on the car. Yup. It’s the right one.
He got back into the Cat C27 844 Model Dozer, fired it up, and pulled up to the Mitsubishi like a man about to fuck his favorite whore. He idled behind it for a few seconds, his adrenaline rush intoxicating, then put it in drive and crushed the damn car like a sardine can, rolling over it with the greatest of ease. A loud crunching, smashing noise ensued. The perfect lyrics to the perfect song. The perfect revenge, to a night gone wrong.
Glass shattered and tires were popping like corn kernels in high heat. He jerked the bulldozer in reverse and repeated the process. What a thrill! His face felt tight with a manic grin as elation flowed through him like the very blood in his veins. He kicked it in reverse once again as he heard nearby doors opening and witnessed a couple of people gawking from partially drawn windows.
He casually made his way back onto the street and headed in the opposite direction he’d come. The bulldozer didn’t drive very fast, 1,800 r/min, but he’d planned everything out just fine. Not a care in the world. If the fucker had come to the door and tried to interrupt him, he’d have been shot. Simple as that. Since he didn’t, the bastard could thank his lucky stars that he got to live to see another day.
Less than a minute later, he spied the old library. It was boarded up, just as seen on Google maps. He looked around and noted there appeared to be no cameras, either. No need for plan B, then. Perfect .
He parked behind the defunct library and made quick work of removing the fake rust stains with the cleaning solution and cloths he’d brought in his bag. He removed the glued-on tire treads, too, which had made for a slightly bumpy ride. Then, he quickly took off the jacket, hat and glasses, folded them up and shoved them in his duffle bag, then covered the bulldozer with a large, dark tarp. I’ll keep it for two days. If I return it right away, that’ll draw suspicion. Making his way back towards the street, his gloves off and duffle bag in tow, he trekked the thirty-two-minute walk back towards where his truck was parked. Instead of going to retrieve it, however, he headed to the diner across the street.
He’d worked up quite the appetite. When he sat down at the counter, he was still on a high from his little adventure. An older guy with thinning wheat-colored hair approached him, asking what he’d like. He opened the menu and scanned it, then placed it quietly back down onto the counter.
“Three scrambled eggs. Bacon, extra crispy. A servin’ of buttermilk pancakes. Home fries with onion ’nd peppers, and coffee. Black.”
“You got it.”
Keith Whitley’s, ‘When You Say Nothing at All’ played through scratchy speakers. He bobbed his head to the song, a favorite of his father’s. Looking around the establishment, he realized the place looked a lot like the one where he and Nadia used to work. He felt his phone buzz and pulled it from his pocket. Two missed calls and a text from Nadia.
Nadia: Boy, where the hell are you?!
Lennox: Had to take care of a few morning errands. I have to make a couple more stops too, but I’ll be back soon. I didn’t want to wake you.
He was fine with that. He’d told the truth. They were in fact errands, and he definitely did not want to wake her.
Three dots popped up in response, then disappeared. A couple minutes later, all she wrote back was: OKAY. Soon, his food and coffee arrived, and he took his time to savor it. He added a bit of salt and pepper to his eggs and potatoes, then ordered a glass of orange juice. He liked it served with a little ice. After he was finished, he paid the bill and left a nice tip. Walking the rest of the short distance, he crossed the road to retrieve his truck, whistling ‘Sitting on the Dock of the Bay,’ by Otis Redding. Once he got to the construction vehicle rental spot, he kept a low profile and didn’t speak to anyone. He’d been gone almost two hours, just like he’d said.
Hopping in his truck, he turned on the radio. Brent Faiyaz’s, ‘Pistachios’ played as he drove the back roads. Once he was almost at his next destination, he pulled over to the side of the thoroughfare in a desolate area of town. This last task had to be done before he made it to the heart of the damn city where all the cameras, glitz, and people would be.
He ripped away two fake confederate dixie flag decals from the back of his truck he’d snagged late last night at a gas station, took down the naked lady air freshener he’d obtained from the junkyard, too, and removed the fake license plate he’d placed on the back of his truck. He always kept a spare license plate, just for occasions such as this. He slipped the license plate in a black trash bag, followed by everything else, including his surgical gloves, and tucked the rubbish neatly under his driver’s seat. Everything except for his truck—the clothing and all would be burned up later in a sweet bonfire.
He got back behind the wheel, and drove with determination.
Next order of business: See the marine.
It was time to pay Roman Wilde, the black sheep cousin, a much-deserved visit…