Six
-
Tuesday, 6th of January
8:04 am
1976
-
“ Good morning, Mother. “
He
leaned across the bed, shocked at how warm her skin was as he kissed her.
“
I’m on antibiotics and they make me itch, John. And no one will take me seriously! “
She sounded feeble and pettish, and it frightened him.
“ It’s
probably just the bedbugs, but I’ll make sure they check. “
A
laugh spurted out between her lips and a little of the fear left her eyes.
“
I wish you could sprinkle a little cat dander on my nightshirt. It seems obscene not to have some of it on me!
“
John reached out his arm and shook it hard for several seconds and she claimed to have seen a fine dust fall from the
clothing, but by then, she’d used up all her energy and was asleep again. He mentioned her allergies to chemicals in
some commercially produced soaps and was promised they’d switch to a glycerin based soap for the time being. When he
returned from the nursing station, her bed and gown had been changed and her position altered as she slept soundly. Part of
him wanted to just be here with her, to use up the moments so long denied them, but to do so would allow Death to know he
cared so deeply about it not stealing her away yet, and a part of him was too conflicted to stand before the throne in heaven,
so he walked down to the sterile, lime green cafeteria, waiting, but not sure for what?
When
he saw Dietz Schroeder walk to the broad doorway and look around, it was as if his heart leaped back into service. As if it
had been stilled from the moment his mother collapsed in the kitchen yesterday and was only now starting to function again.
He gave a discrete weave incase the ex-warrior wasn’t looking for him. Although they’d worked closely together
since their long journey together to his home village in Lebanon after Father Andres Smirnov’s murder in Jerusalem,
and then the murder trial when they returned to the United States, there was still a wall which kept them at odds with one
another. In the quiet ex-Lance Corporal’s eyes, Brother John would forever be the commanding officer one keeps at a
distance.
“ Did you see him? Did you see him? “
When he had to answer “Who?” the ex-warrior turned and scoured the peaceful scene again,
half-expecting the whistling of bombs or the ping of a sniper’s bullet his heart was racing so badly!
“ Sammie the Snake Lovich! He’s here! I took the stairs!
“
“ Security can tell us. “ Brother John said excitedly,
reaching to move his coffee cup, but the lean, younger man’s fingers closed over the bruised muscles so recently injured
during his arrest and he winced, tightening the fingers rather than loosening them. He could hear the man’s excited
breath and recognized the glazed look that was spreading
“ You’re
going to have a black-out if you don’t calm down, Dietz. “
The
fingers nearly snapped the bone before he released him with a vile curse that caused two food service personnel to begin to
watch them in nervous fear,
The young shoved his legs under the counter, causing a tapping as his knee jiggled up and down in nervous tempo. Then
he seized the thick white mug and began to sip on it. Coffee can help hyper people to calm, he believed, and he was doing
his best to defuse the rise in passion he could feel demanding action from his cramped muscles. When Brother John paused to
speak quietly with the man in the security uniform, he almost bolted, his imagination forming elaborate scenarios in which
his trusted friend was making arrangements to have seized and imprisoned by the Doctors at the VA! Till he heard
the old man’s quaking voice giving directions to the central Security office and saw that he was more frightened of
him than he was of being incarnated again, and slowly the revered rage broke and his breathing no longer drew attention from
the white smoked attendants who were sharing the smooth gliding floor.
He
shook hands with a burly man whose fingers were stained brown with nicotine, even though he spit discretely into a cup from
time to time, but his real interest lay in the maze of ‘windows’ inside the narrow side room. It made sense, now
that he thought about it, where else would an addict think to look for ‘hard’ drugs besides a pharmacy or a hospital?
But when he started to chat with the young man in uniform seated in front of the two parallel rows of four grey-white monitors,
he felt an interest he hadn’t since his best friend Todd asked him to help rebuild an old ’48 Packard in his back
yard. He almost didn’t want to leave when Brother John was dismissed, but he’d look foolish and ‘needy’
if he tried to hang around like he and Todd used to do, so he gave him the phone number to his apartment on the grounds, and
the Santa Cruz address, since few people even knew Capitola and Dunsmuir and Davenport even existed, and he was rewarded by
a bright smile and knew he’d made a new friend!
“
Al! What are you doing here? “
“
I came tae see mae second best gurl. But she was asleep so I went tae see Kathleen Turner. But she’s spitting
nails and says she wants them to be in mae coffin! “
He shrugged and suggested she’d
have to wait in line. As they laughed, much of the tension was already draining away, and they were playing ‘Rock, Scissors,
Paper’ to see who would have to pay for breakfast once they chose where to eat. It was shocking to be chatting and laughing
as he got ready to step on the elevator and look up to see Samuel Lovich and two well dressed but discomforted men already
standing inside!
“ We’ll take the next one! “
Al
said tautly, and the look that passed between the two men would have seared sinew and flesh from bone!
A manicured and slender white hand reached out in front of the ‘electric eye’ that operated the sliding
door, sliding and holding it locked into the open position.
“ There’s
no need for that, Al. I always told you that you could have her. And I never came between you and your son, did I? “
The question was cruel and vile, as much for what it implied as how it was said and Dietz instinctively took a step
forward, only to find two guns with silencers drawn from shoulder holsters with as little effort as he would take a deep breath,
as if they had simply willed them to become visible to the naked eye
“ You have your protection, I have mine. What harm can come of
a ninety second ride? Or are you become afraid in your old age, Allen Mackendrie Hoag? “
Dietz and Brother John took a place at either side of the trembling man’s shoulder but stood their ground when
the burly Scot made no move to get unto the motionless lift. The door pinged several times in distress when Samuel Lovich
finally pulled his hand away, allowing it to gracefully slide shut and descend to the parking lot. The sound of mocking laughter
floating upwards.
Dietz became enraged and struck his knuckles against the smooth metal of the closed doors. But the Scots man scolded
him sharply as he stepped to the bench behind them and placed his shoe on the edge of the bench to give the briefcase at his
side a place to rest. Opening it up, he caused the other two men to gasp at the Cold War spy-ware contained inside the ordinary
looking case. It was something out of a James Bond movie!
“ It’s
welded to the frame. “ Al was explaining to him as he closed the reed thin leather
case. “ This is genuine Moroccan leather. Nothing but the best fer our Lassie! “
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess who belonged to the initials LDL newly embossed on the calf-skin smooth
case. He knew he’d regret it later, but he just had to ask.
“
How did you get it, Al? “
“ Haven’t
you ever wondered where all those missing suitcases go that disappear from airports? “
“ Well, yes. “ He agreed puzzled when the Scots
man’s smile only deepened.
“ So have I. “ Al answered cheerfully and the
elevator opened to their floor, still damp with the expensive cologne and body sweat from its previous occupants.
“ It’s standing still. They’ve never gone there before? “
Al said in a puzzled tone as they lingered over a second cup of coffee in the tourist fed pancake house. .
Brother John had gotten bored once he learned the tiny briefcase edition was linked to a full sized computer which
kept minute by minute records of the device. Then a sudden loud boom, like a dozen sonic jets breaking the sound barriers
overhead simultaneously rattled the front windows and shook the china waiting in the dishwashers tray for their turn under
the machine.
“ It’s gone. “
The
Scotsman’s voice said in the loud buzzing in their ears as women’s screams began and men’s curses echoed
in the narrow, one story building and fire engines began to wail in the distance.
Brother
John looked at his hands. They were shaking violently as the endless thunder awoke memories of the suicide bomber in Jerusalem
and enduring the brunt of the blast, forced over their heads by the shattered windows of the air-conditioned bus, while he
tried to protect the two boys with his own body! When they thought to look, Dietz Schroeder was gone!
-
*
Tuesday, 6th
of January
12:13 am
1976
-
Brother John wished he could reach past his friend’s stubborn silence, but there were so many unanswered questions.
Had the device been detonated by Lovich, or to kill him? Would Dietz Schroeder have another black out like he did in Israel
and mistakenly believe he’d killed someone? His worst fear, even after two years off the streets. Had Loraine Lovich
allowed the device to be ‘stolen’ so she could remotely access the same information? But there wasn’t anything
he could say without formally opening the inquisition against his friend still further. Especially since, as far as he knew,
he was out of jail but still a chief suspect in the deaths of Lovich’s long time friend and lawyer Hank Moreland, and
his driver.
“ He needs his insulin, Chief Buckhannon! “
He heard Mother Mary Harriet say firmly, and as he suspected, she was quickly ushered into the room. She reached out
her arms to embrace him. Despite her middle aged stoutness and the illusion given by her long formal habit, it was like clutching
a broomstick to his chest as he drew her near then released her. Her fingers were trembling so badly he took the alcohol swap
from her fingers and ripped the silvered, sterile packet open. His glucose levels were low, but not life threatening. It was
a simple matter of adjusting his dosage of insulin.
“ They’d
only allow me one needle, and I have to give it back to them as I leave, Father “ She
said apologetically. Not even aware that she had transposed his title to the more familiar word her tongue was accustomed
too.
“ You were wonderful. Thank you. Sister! “
“ Oh John, you must pray for me! “ She demanded,
breaking down in tears. “ I’m frightened, and I’m angry, and I can’t face GOD right
now! “
“ I’m not sure He’s open to listening to me just now either. “
She struck his hand with the ends of her fingers as if he were a boy in the village again and she was his frustrated
teacher of so long ago.
“ Sister Mel was raped and now we can’t find her! Your dear mother has had a heart attack
and the Bishop has spoken to our Mother Houses. The three of us are being recalled, like untrustworthy automobiles that had
to be tinkered with by mechanics in black cloth and reground to fit the molds! “
“ I told you I was angry! “ She said at his long
silence, but there was less emotion and drama in her voice when she spoke, leaning her hand heavily on his shoulder. “
Maybe Mel has the right idea. Maybe we should regroup, on our own? “
“
What does your heart say? What does the Holt Spirit say, Mary Harriet? “
“ Now you sound like my Confessor! “ She
snapped, but she simply leaned her forehead on her hand and seemed to deflate.
“
My dearest one. “ He suggested, gathering her tenderly to his breast despite
the many eyes he knew was watching him through the two wall glass and the electronic surveillance. “
Sometimes it feels like an amputation. But I only just found out last night, or I just admitted to myself last night,
that I can’t stay on the mountain like I thought I would. “
“
Are you going to abandon Sea Oaks? “
“
Not abandon, just give over to hands trained to accomplish it to its fullest capacity. And my heart breaks at the thought
of us all not being together at night for prayers, it’s made such a dynamic difference in my prayer life...but...
“
The eighty-two year old num pulled back from his warmth and affection, as if fearing to cling to it too much now, when
its source was already grown cold. He was speaking of a decision already accepted, she knew that tone in a man’s voice
altogether too well! She remembered Andres Smirnov using it when they had to close the religious school and hide with their
students to keep the children safe until their parents or relatives could reclaim them!
“ But? “
“
You know the French bread you like so much? “
“
Yes, but what does food have to do with anything now? “
“ It’s sourdough. “
“
Yes, I know. We bought some starter and it’s in the kitchen now! But what... “
His look silenced her.
“ I think I see what you’re getting at, John. “
She said sadly, as tears filled her eyes and them the wrinkles trapped by age on her cheeks. “
Spit it into four equal places and it will grow again to the volume we have here now, but in four other places. But
why would GOD be so cruel as to allow us to learn to love one another like family and then break us up? “
“ I guess they asked the same thing at the tower of Babel? We just have to accept there’s
a greater purpose. I can, if I think that you can still find peace with me when I’m not underfoot? “
In answer, the old woman broke free and slid to the cement floor at his knees, bowed and humbled. The back of her veil
becoming damp with his own tears of remorse and loss as they prayed, not caring who heard them!
-
*
-
Seeing that he still had Al’s cell phone in his pocket, he tried to dial the number to the Santa Cruz estate
to see if he was there, but the phone batteries were too low and he didn’t have enough change in his pocket for a pay
phone. Making sure the elderly nun was safely reroute to the safety of Sea Oaks, John was torn between seeking his wounded
friend and being near his mother incase she took a turn for the worst, he used a pay phone to leave a message on Tray and
Amada’s answering machine, then he walked until he found a street corner with a bus stop, needing movement! A large,
dark car with tinted windows came alongside him as he waited in the late afternoon sunlight, the glass sliding down with a
oily purr.
“ Hello, Brother John. Have you seen my son Matthew or Al? “
As he looked at the middle aged woman he wanted to hate her. He was rocking the body of the dead girl, the eight and
a half-month fetus still locked in death’s grip inside the hardened womb while they woman walked around downstairs angry
at the slovenly habits of the drug people she’d allowed to live there when it suited her need to ‘rebel’
against her grandfather.
“ I hope he wasn’t in the car with your husband this afternoon. It blew up.
“
She paled so violently, there was no question she understood the inference, no matter how she protested ignorance of
his meaning, driving away just in time to permit the foul smelling bus to take her place and push past him with an angry curse
because he’d stopped the troubled beetle but the man seated on the bench had acted as if he were lost in a world of
his own! The smell and grit of exhausted diesel came to rest on the still figure, and then Brother John stood with a sigh
and started walking uphill, because uphill would demand more of him!
-
-
End Chapter 6
