I ditched the car at the
airport and picked up a rental a
work contact had checked out for
me. We weren’t on the road very long
when Crawford called. I pulled over
to a rest area that was also a look
out point. The sign said it looked
out to a lake below. And so I sent
Leon out to look at it.
“We’ll keep this short,”
I said. “You are probably trying to
track me from the cell phone
towers. There’s probably a GPS in
the Mercedes.”
“Clever,” he said. “I
will find you. I will find you
both.”
“You might just find
me.”
“Why are you keeping
him? If you want a Doll, I have
thousands.”
“I don’t want a
Doll. And I am not keeping him.”
“Meaning?”
“If what you told
Ishigami’s true, then he will only
have three more days to live.”
“What do you want? More
money?”
“This isn’t about money
anymore, Mr. Crawford. Actually, I
don’t think it ever was.”
“He isn’t yours,” he
said. His voice was raised. I
pictured him pounding his table with
his fist. “You would have him die to
keep him from me?”
“Actually, Mr.
Crawford…” I said. There were many
things I had thought to say, all of
them nothing more a swipe at him. I
looked over to Leon – his figure
just a silhouette in the late
afternoon sun. He was leaning over
the railing, staring downwards
attentively.
“Yes, I would,” I
said. “Good-bye Mr. Crawford.”
I switched the phone off
in the middle of his protest. I
pocketed the phone and walked out to
stand next to Leon. He had been
watching a lake that had formed
below. The platform where we stood
was a slight cliff that hung over
it.
I wound my arm around
his shoulder and we stood there and
watched the lake and the horizons
until the sky became a palette of
yellow and orange.
It was past 10 PM when
we arrived at one of my cousin’s
hunting cabin. The paint job on the
rental’s shot from the unlit, off
road excursion. It was nestled in a
thick patch of woods, next to a lake
that had been the delineation of
State and private property.
I
breathed out a long sigh of relief
when the electricity switched
on. The cabin was dusty from months
of disuse but the furniture had been
kept clean by the white linen thrown
over them. Leon sat primly on a
rocking chair in the corner and
watched as I pulled the linen off
and made a pile of it.
I
made a fire in the small stone
fireplace. He came over and sat in
front, his knees drawn up to his
chest and watched the flame.
“The hot water will take
a couple of hours to be ready,” I
said. I dimmed the lights and sat
down next to him. There weren’t a
requisite fireside fur rug. The
hardwood floor was a bit hard on the
ass.
“You might cease
function in a few days,” I said.
He said nothing. I took
out the photo of Kana from my pant
pocket. That was the only thing I
had snatched from the floor of the
bedroom before I made my exit out of
the fire escape. I would have
forgotten about it if it weren’t for
the unforgiving floor nudging at it
at the seat of my pants.
“What do you feel?” I
asked and unfolded the photo, then
giving it to him. He didn’t take it
immediately.
“I don’t know,” he said
the expected answer. He took the
photo from me and looked at it.
For awhile, neither of
us spoke. The fire crackled and our
shadows flickered behind us. He
leaned into me until his head was
resting against my arm.
“Mama,” he said softly.
The bottom of my stomach
dropped out.
“That was what he
called her.”
“Who?”
“My first papa,” he
said. “Long, long time ago.”
“Tell me about him.”
He held up the creased
photo and regarded it for a moment.
“I have silver music box
with this picture in it. He would
wind it for me when he comes to my
room and open it so I can look at
the picture. He said that was
mama. I mustn’t forget mama.”
He lowered his arm and
let the photo tumble from his
fingers.
“Sometimes I forget
mama. Sometimes I forget papa.”
“Sometimes you do
remember,” I said and stroked his
hair.
“Sometimes,” he said.
I glanced over and there
were rivulets of tears streaming
down his face. There were no
discernable changes in his
expression. His eyes still stared
ahead although the tears kept on
rolling from them.
“You don’t have to hurt
anymore,” I said. “It will be over
soon.”
He blinked and looked
over to me. I held his face in my
hands.
“I have to ask you for
your forgiveness,” I said. “You do
not have to give it. I can only hope
you will.”
I kissed him on the
mouth.
“I am as selfish and
guilty as those who wanted you to
live. I am allowing you to die for
the same reason.”
He smiled. More tears
streamed down.
“I am happy,” he
said. “I don’t want to be anywhere
else.”
“Please forgive me.”
He nodded, the smile on
his face remained. I held him to me,
pressing the side of his face
against my chest so he couldn’t see
mine.
“Forgive me.”
The day had just broken
when my cell rung. It was
horrendously loud and echoed in the
empty cabin but Leon remained
asleep, even as I untangled his arm
and leg from me. The fire was dying
with the smallest flame still eating
away at the ashen log. I crawled out
of the blanket I shared with Leon
and toward the phone I had left
charging at an outlet at the wall.
“It’s me,” Pete said
even before I acknowledged him. “You
have to get the fuck out of there.”
“English this time?”
I started to gather my
discarded clothing that had been
randomly tossed about the room and
dressed. It was more out the bitter
cold than modesty.
“A very big bounty was
posted on your location and your
fucking cousin called it in. The
shit probably knew you were running
and offered his place for you to
hide out.”
“Thanksgiving this
year’ll be a little awkward.”
“They are on their way,
if not already there. Get the hell
out.”
“Thanks.”
I woke Leon up and told
him to dress. I looked out of the
window and saw nothing unusual. The
rental was still parked where it
was. There were no plumes of dust
coming from the sole off-road that
led to the cabin. But then, that
would mean we would need to be on
the road to make our exit. There
would be no where to go, if we met
on the road.
“Shit,” I said and
slipped on the shoulder holster. I
didn’t put on my jacket.
I started the car and
let the engine warm up. I called for
Leon and he appeared moments
later. He asked no questions and
slipped into the passenger side of
the car. I had only turned the car
around when I heard it. The sounds
of car tires crunching the rocks and
branches as they made their way down
the dirt path. They were driving
slowly and the only thing I could
see through the trees were the
exhaust that wafted through.
I gestured for Leon to
get out of the car and he does so. I
seized him by his wrist and we ran
into the woods behind the cabin. I
had only been to the cabin twice but
it was two times more familiar I was
with the terrain than Crawford’s
flunkies. Not that it was a great
advantage. The sun had not risen up
completely and the un-trodden path
with tall grass and vines and fallen
branches slowed our movements
considerably. I pulled him along –
only a step behind.
Don’t stop or you
will lose him like Orpheus
did Euridice.
I would have
smiled at the ridiculous analogy
then if I weren’t so annoyed with
the thorns and branches that
scratched and ripped at my shirt and
jeans. I regretted not wearing my
jacket.
“Are you ok?” I asked
him. I cast a glance back quickly
but I couldn’t see him well.
“Yes,” he said. His
voice reflected neither stress nor
concern. Indifferent. As if we were
on a brisk walk.
“There is a RV parking
straight ahead. Not far,” I said to
him. As I said it, I realized that
the lot would be empty. It was off
season and there would no
campers. The highway was a quarter
of a mile from the lot. Traffic
would be scarce for the area and the
location but that was all we had.
I made a mental decision
then to make a visit to cousin
Thomas at his apartment priority if
I got out of the situation alive.
There were noises of
people shouting from the cabin we
had left behind. I could not tell if
they had followed. More of the day
light had broken through clusters of
trees above. I couldn’t tell how
long we had been wading through the
vegetation but we finally could see
the dirt clearing up ahead.
“How are you doing?” I
said and glanced back. I could see
his face now. There were small cuts
on his cheeks and his shirt had
small tears. He blinked and nodded.
“Are you tired?”
He shook his head.
“Good boy,” I said. We
emerged and stepped out from the
pulled of the foliage. The ground
was solid and flat again.
“We have a ways to go,”
I said to him and wiped the streaks
of blood from his cheeks with my
thumbs. “Are you up to it?”
He tilted his head and
looked at my arms. I rubbed at the
cuts and grinned.
“I’m fine.”
“Why are we running from
papa?” He suddenly said.
“Papa?”
“He is there,” he said
and gestured toward the direction
where we had come from.
Crawford.
In the brief moment of
silence, broken only by the gentle
caws of the crow in the distance, I
heard them coming. The sound of the
rumbling engines in the distance,
coming down the road that led to the
lot. Sounds of branches snapping and
foliage rustling where we had
been. We could disappear into the
woods again but that would only
delay the inevitable and perhaps
give time for Crawford’s men to
collect their resources.
“I can’t let you go back
to papa,” I said to him. “Do you
understand why?”
He said nothing for a
moment and then he smiled.
“Yes.”
I clicked off the safety
on the Beretta and pressed it
against his mid-section. My vision
blurred for a moment and I blinked
until it cleared. I wound my left
arm around him and held him to
me. He looped his arm around my
waist, so tight that I knew the gun
barrel had pressed against his rib
cage, hurting him.
“Forgive me,” I said to
him and pulled the trigger twice in
rapid successions.
The heat of his blood
wet my midsection and his arms
loosened. I held him against me
until his arms fell to the sides. I
sank down to my knees with his body
still pressing against me. I held
him until three Mercedes drove up
and surrounded me. Several men
spilled out of it, their guns and
shotguns drawn. Crawford emerged
from the backseat of one of the
cars. For a long time, no one said
anything or moved. Then the men who
had been waded through the woods
appeared behind me. I didn’t have to
look to know they were armed as
well.
Crawford walked up and
stopped a few feet away. His eyes
were rimmed in red and glossy.
“He didn’t have to die,”
he said.
“He died in his mother’s
womb.”
He walked up closer and
when he was within an arm’s reach
from me, he pulled a Ruger out of
his pocket. He pressed it against my
forehead.
“Is it worth it? To lose
everything to this thing?”
“You and I both did, the
moment we met him.”
His hands shook and I
saw the pad of his finger move back
slightly. Then he pulled the pistol
back. There were tears now, flowing
down on one side of his face.
“Then you will live and
suffer like me.”
He turned and strode
back to the car. He said something
to man with the shotgun that stood
by the Mercedes he later ducked
into. The man handed his shotgun to
the driver and came toward me. His
thin lips were pulled tight in a
grimace when he stopped a step away.
“Let’s make this easy,
pal,” he said and pulled Leon’s body
from my arms. Leon’s body hung
limply, his arms spread and the head
tilted back at an odd
angle. Splatters of blood had
already stained the man’s white
dress shirt. Thick drips of it that
ran off dotted the path from me to
the Mercedes where Crawford had
disappeared in.
The wetness against my
shirt had cooled. I was vaguely
aware of the cold, even though I was
shivering. Then I was alone – left
with the coppery scent of fresh
blood that was strong in the crisp
morning air.
And that scent was my
only memory of that Doll.
Stop reading at this chapter for the original ending. Read the additional chapter for alternate ending.