Prodigal Blues

I looked at my crimson-slicked hands.  They were trembling—no, wait, scratch that—my hands weren't trembling, just my fingers.  How was that possible, only your fingers getting the shakes and not your entire hand?  I started to ask the guy lying in front of me and then remembered that he was well past answering anything ever again.

His face was shiny and mostly dark now, except for his eyes, which shone up out of the gore like pearls in fresh mud.  His mouth was open, lips pulled back in a silent rictus scream.  A small bubble rose to the surface of his mouth, jiggled, then burst with a soft pop!  I stared into the maw, waiting for another bubble to rise up, but one never did.

I started humming to myself.  "All Through the Night."  I thought I was maybe a little off-key; if Thomas were here he'd help me to get it right.  Maybe I could even ask him why he sang the "…hill and dale" line wrong each time.

I tried to convince myself that I was a decent man, a good man and loving, faithful husband, and that those things still counted for something right now, even if I was ass-deep in blood and piss and dead-man's shit; I tried telling myself that a man could go back to his life after something like this and still feel clean, principled, and blameless; and then I decided I was full of it and tried getting back to the boat, but Dad had rowed away to a better spot.  Walleye are sneaky little devils, but I doubted they'd outsmart him.

I squeezed the satchel tighter.  There was something soft inside.  I opened it up and took a peek.  There was the tape Christopher had given him, and a suede-covered organizer, a bunch of some folded papers and more brown envelopes… and then I found it.

"Hello, you," I said, pulling out the stuffed Buttercup doll.  I wondered if all of Grendel's distributors had a thing for the Powerpuff Girls.  Maybe that was a prerequisite for joining their club.

"I'm sorry about what happened with Blossom," I said.  "It was just one of those things.  It didn't mean anything."

Buttercup glared at me, but there was love in her eyes.

I pulled her close, stroking her hair.  "It'll never happen again, I promise, I do, I swear to you…."  Then I started crying, but Buttercup didn't make fun of me, she understood, she said it was all right, everything was going to be okay as long as that stupid old Mojo didn't come along and ruin everything.  The dirty little monkey-faced dork.

I held her close, wondering how I was going to break the news to Tanya, when Christopher appeared in the window.  "Get back here, Pretty Boy.  Look up.  That's right.  Now, you take a couple of deep breaths, get your legs working, and climb out here."

I stuffed Buttercup into the front of my pants, silently apologizing for the temporary rudeness.  She said it was okay but, jeez, hadn't I ever heard of deodorant?

Once outside I filled my lungs with the crisp night air.  No other vehicles had come to park on this side, and in the trucks and behemoth, not a creature was stirring, not even a light.

Christopher glanced quickly at Buttercup, then shook his head and looked at me.  "You want his feet or his arms?"

"I don't care."

"Grab his feet, then."  He lifted up the driver, hooking his arms around the torso, and began pulling him out.  I grabbed his legs when they came my way, and we carried him over to the trailer.  The door was unlocked and opened just a crack.

"Let go," said Christopher.  I did.  The legs dropped toward the ground with a damp, heavy slap.

"Now go on and get back inside the bus.  Sit on the passenger side.  Go ahead."

I yanked Buttercup from my pants and straightened her hair as I climbed into the seat.  She reminded me to close the door quietly.  It's a good idea to do whatever Buttercup asks.

I heard the squeak of the Airstream's door being opened, then felt a heavy shake as the body was tossed inside.  Another squeak, a couple of clicks, and Christopher walked across the lot with some kind of container dangling from his hand.  I leaned back my head and closed my eyes.  I heard something sloshing around.  Then footsteps.  The door opening, then closing.  Another click, then movement beside me.  I opened my eyes just in time to see Christopher light a cigarette.

"Those things'll kill you," I said.

"So will getting up every morning, eventually."  He shoved the lighter back into its slot, then put the bus into gear and began moving toward the exit.  "Lucky none of those trucks are hauling gas or kerosene."  He looked out toward the merge ramp, then, just as we were passing our twin, flipped out the cigarette; it arced smoothly through the night air and into the passenger window.  The inside of the bus belched flame, Christopher shifted gears, and were well onto the highway before the fire started getting really serious.

"Here," he said, popping the lid off a plastic pill container.  "Hold out your hand."

I did, and he tapped out a pair of small blue pills, then handed me an opened can of Pepsi.  "Go on, take those.  You'll be okay, just take them."

I knew I should ask what they were, but at that moment I didn't care.  He said I'd be okay if I took them.  Being okay sounded good.  So I took them.

Should've asked him what they were first, said Buttercup.  Mojo's henchmen are everywhere.

I told her to mind her own business and leaned back my head once more.

Behind us, I could hear Arnold stirring awake.  "Hey… what's… what's going on?"

"I needed to stop for a piss," said Christopher.

"Well thanks a lot for waking me up."

"Do you have to go?"

"…no, not really.  But it would've been nice if you'd asked."

Buttercup whispered, You're hanging with some real goof-a-doofuses, you know that, right?

I closed my eyes, searching for the lake.

Dad was whistling some off-key tune.

And laughing.

He hadn't laughed in the longest time.  I wanted to find his boat.  I'd heard the fishing was pretty good around here….

10. All Who Ride In This Bus Shall Be Protected

The order of events during the next four hours remains jumbled in my memory; the sedatives Christopher gave me weren't quite strong enough to knock me all the way into la-la land, but they did surround everything with a pleasant, numbed, gauzy haze where for a while the world moved in slow motion, as if everyone and everything were underwater.  I know that we drove for quite a while.  I know that everyone started waking up just as the sedatives started kicking in.  I know that every time I closed my eyes I saw the dead guy's body lying in front of me, only sometimes he got up into a kneeling position and tore off his makeup to reveal Grendel's face underneath.  I know I tried to keep my eyes open as long as possible after that.

I remember Christopher and Rebecca talking about my waist size; had she noticed what it was when she was washing the pants?  38?  Good.  Does he look like he wears a large or extra-large shirt?  It was decided that extra-large would be the way to go, just to be safe.  The Marshall Tucker boys were singing about fire on the mountain and Arnold was complaining that they'd been listening to that same damn CD for the last six days, wasn't it about time something else was put in there and Christopher said music is always the driver's choice and Arnold said that wasn't fair and Christopher said okay jesus anything to shut you up what do you want to hear and Arnold asked if there was any Billy Joel and Rebecca vetoed that because Billy Joel's voice always sounded so sad and then there was a discussion over the virtues of The Beatles versus Pearl Jam or Led Zeppelin and then Thomas started singing about how dumb Bill and Dale looked when they were sleeping and Christopher said they had about ten seconds to decide and then he was going to crank up the Barbara Streisand and everyone groaned in horror and Arnold said that if there was any Frank Sinatra that'd be cool and Rebecca agreed and soon the Chairman of the Board was crooning away about those vagabond blues and they were all singing along and it sounded like fun so Buttercup joined in and I almost faded out for a bit but then remembered the feel of blood on my hands and the stench of shit in my nostrils and started crying again but not too loudly because I didn't want to spoil their sing-along and then there were very bright lights and the sounds of many cars and people and we came to a stop and someone got out and I opened my eyes and saw that we were at another major truck stop and then Christopher was gently slapping the same side of my face over and over tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-Tap-TAP-TAP.