Thursday, February 2, 2017

Chapter 36


***

CHAPTER 36

Seeing as how all of us were now wide awake, what with Gator interrupting the dream attack I had been undergoing from Papa Kalfu in such a way as to rouse Mattie from his slumber, I decided that we may as well get to work on coming up with my departure plan.

At that moment, I made a commitment to myself that -- for sure, by sundown-- I was going to be officially and completely out of Dodge.

And by "Dodge", I meant "southern Florida" -- all of it.

The hotel room I was in now. The bar I was locked in before. The other bar where all the unfortunate things had happened.

Definitely joining me in my haste to depart Dodge would be my puppy dog.

Although we had previously established that Mattie would be be a part of our travels, that particular point was now under review.

Definitely being packed in the car would be the cash that Mario and Mria had left for me in the envelope before the fire.

Up for re-consideration, though, would be the final destination.

Before I fell asleep, it was to have been New Orleans.

Now that Papa Kalfu had apparently pried that out of my brain, I was going to have to consider the ramifications of that knowledge being shared with my enemy.

The resort check-out time was just a few hours away.

There were things to do. Plans to set. Decisions to make.

It was the time for action.


***


"Do you have to go potty?"

I was asking Gator, but Mattie actually was the first to answer.

"Nah ... I'm good. You can use it first."

He looked at me sheepishly.

"Oh wait. You were talking to the puppy, weren't you?"

I smiled, as he continued.

"My bad. Not awake yet. Come to think of it, I *am* gonna go piss."

I interrupted him as he left my cot.

"Do you think I can take him out this early in the morning without risking being seen?"

He wrinkled up his face as he considered my query.

"The sun's not even up yet. I gotta think no one else but us is out and about this early in the morning."

He had a point.

We went our separate ways ... ironically enough, for two of the three of us to do the same task.

He apparently finished first, because by the time that Gator and I made it back in to the hotel room, he had already turned on the TV.

His greeting to us when he returned was a little ominous.

"Hey ... you better watch this. It looks like things are about to get a little crazier."

***

I used to *like* having the news on in the background as I went about my day.

That preference was no longer valid now that my situation was being covered on it.

"Coming up next. SHOCKING developments in the so-called Florida 'Evil Monkey Murders'. There are now MORE unexplained disappearances ... and also the FIRST individuals who were present in the bar just a few hours prior to the HORRIFIC events of that evening are coming forward. We'll be right back with those details at the top of the hour for all but our international viewers, who will ..."

I spoke over top of the anchor's last comments to get clarification from Mattie.

"Hey -- what channel is this?" I asked.

"That's what I meant when I said it was about to get crazier. This is a *national* news channel. Your story is no longer only on the local stations," he replied.

I hated myself for thinking it, but my first reaction was to hope for a missing plane or some other unexpected tragedy to distract them from *my* story.

As luck would have it for anyone flying that day, all airplanes were accounted for.

As a lack of luck would have it for me ... all airplanes were accounted for.

Mattie sensed my concern.

"I know you were planning on going off the grid for a bit -- but the grid you're getting off of just got a little bigger."

Every single part of the universe was screaming at me to leave town, and to do so as quickly as possible.

All I could do was oblige.

***

The three of us sat there in the hotel room, transfixed at what was coming on the news on the television.

Although, to be fair, Gator wasn't really paying attention to the TV, as he was actually more than engaged with grooming himself. And "grooming himself" was the polite way to refer to what he was doing as Mattie and I kept an eye on the returning news.

The anchorwoman was true to her word. She launched right into the top news story of the morning, which was unfortunately the goings-on in MY life.

"Good morning. Let's dive right into one of the STRANGEST stories coming out of Florida, a place no stranger for having STRANGE stories, and the ongoing investigation into a string of crimes at the bars in a tourist town that have left a community UNSETTLED."

I knew that I was *personally* unsettled.

I didn't quite know that the whole community shared my feelings.

"Coming on the heels of the discovery of a HORRIFIC set of murders of bar employees and customers ... and the subsequent DISAPPEARANCE of the three victims' bodies ... we have learned this morning that the bar owner is ALSO potentially among the missing."

This was apparently a startling development for all of America ... but *I* fully expected it based on the fact that Papa Kalfu had come to visit me in my dream. I had no doubt that he was headed to New Orleans, expecting to meet up with me and to continue his quest to get access to my blood -- and to my special skills.

"While we continue to wait for details regarding whether the local investigation is considering that individual to be a FOURTH victim of the so-called 'Evil Monkey Murders', we are pleased to bring you some of the FIRST interviews with those who were at the scene of the crime only hours before the events occurred."

A parade of familiar faces was about to fill my screen.

***

"It's just SO shocking. At this point, I'm just thankful that it didn't happen to me and my boyfriend."

The special interview that the news had been promoting was with the Stevie Nicks wannabe from the bar that night who had approached me to be a part of their swinging lifestyle.

Or at least that's what I *thought* she was trying to do when she flirted with me while Rodney and I were waiting for the bar to close so we could make our move.

As I recalled it, she was all about making *her* moves.

"We had even invited that guy to join us on our bar crawl. NOW I know why he didn't come along."

The woman on the screen drew in a sharp breath.

"If he had, *WE'D* be dead monkeys right now!"

At that moment, I was kind of glad that back then I had to stay and to steal some laundered drug money at closing time instead of going along with them to wherever -- and WHATever -- they had planned for the rest of that evening.

I had likely saved myself from some drama.

Well -- some *other* kind of drama -- seeing as how I *was* the number one person of interest in a set of murders that was now shocking all of America instead of just the local area in south Florida.

The interviewer asked the lady a question.

"Did you notice anything strange about his behavior during the time you saw him at the bar?"

It was another face familiar to me from that night that answered.

***

The *boyfriend* of the Stevie Nicks wannabe was the one who answered the reporter's question.

"He was a weirdo. He barely spoke to anyone else. Just him and the jukebox."

His answer concerned me.

Not just because he was calling me names. I could look past that. Whatever. I didn't even know the guy.

But there was something about what he said that resonated with me. Like I should be concerned. I didn't stop listening to the news per se, but there were parts of my brain that were activated and running in the background as I did so.

The boyfriend continued.

"I mean, who goes to a bar and doesn't even talk to anyone? He could have just stayed home and listened to the youtube if that's all he wanted to do."

The Stevie Nicks wannabe nodded her head in agreement and worked her way into the frame.

"Yeah -- in the end, it was lucky for us that he was so anti-social."

Now it was the boyfriend's turn to nod his head and to chime in.

"It's always the quiet ones."

She clearly agreed.

"Always the quiet ones," she added.

That was when it hit me. The jukebox. It was a major risk point for me.

***

I was so used to dealing with my issues on my own -- as I had my whole life -- that I was actually a little startled by Mattie, who was apparently watching me watch the news.

"You look pensive," he commented.

I resisted the urge to reply that I was just thinking, considering that maybe he had never seen the movie in which that classic exchange was featured.

Instead, I just decided to share what was in my brain.

"I'm a little worried about them."

Mattie did his best to embrace what was going to be his new role and to offer me some comfort.

"Ah ... don't let them get to you. They're just a bunch of yahoos ..."

I explained more.

"It's not *them* so much as what they're saying. We had planned ahead and were very careful to only order bottles of beer that night because we figured they'd be thrown out ... and we didn't want to risk leaving our fingerprints on any glasses that maybe didn't get washed because of the timing of our 'strike'."

Mattie wasn't making the same connection that I had just made.

So I made it for him.

"If they figure out that I spent as much time as I did at the jukebox and dust *that* for prints, I probably touched every button on that damn machine."

***

Mattie challenged me regarding the concern I had just expressed.

"Yeah, but does that even matter? I mean it's not like your fingerprints are on file or anything."

He could immediately tell by my facial expression that he was wrong.

"Sorry. They *are* on file then? So you had a life of crime *before* your current life of crime?"

I was starting to learn that I could always count on Mattie to lighten the mood. I would come to really appreciate that fact -- eventually.

At that moment, though, I was in too serious of a mode to allow his comments to provide me with some kind of relief from my growing amount of stress.

"I grew up in the system. I'm pretty sure that every fact about me is in some computer or in some file somewhere. Well ... everything except these latest developments and my ... um ... current new skill set."

Mattie pointed to the screen.

"Plus there's that."

Again, for everyone to see ... or at least everyone to see that was watching that national news channel so early in the morning on the east coast that day ... *there* was the rendition of me from the sketch artist and a grainy video still of me at the bar.

They were apparently using the same imagery that had been on the local channel, because they also had the second person featured.

"Who's that other guy again?" asked Mattie.

Before I could answer, I heard something that greatly increased that level of stress that I was under.

***

"We have just learned that one of the families of the victims has put up a $5000 reward for information regarding the whereabouts of EITHER of these two persons of interest."

I ignored Mattie's question about the *other* guy in the picture and thought a moment about who it was that was putting up that reward money.

I tried not to judge, but Stanley the bartender was just an immigrant from Haiti ... and my partner-in-crime Rodney had come from the rough streets of the south side of Chicago and had told me the horrific story about the day his mother died from stray gunfire that had actually originated from him in that heist gone bad ... so that only left Albert, one of the original kidnapper triumvirate.

I knew a lot about Mario and Mria, the other two from that group ... but Albert -- the original angry texter from that first Florida trip -- was a bit of an unknown.

And even though I didn't care for the guy ... it seems like *somebody* sure did.

"Hey ... you hear me? You okay?"

Mattie interrupted my thought process.

I sighed, which was kind of its own answer.

"Yep. Just taking it all in. And that other guy -- he was just some kid sitting next to me at the bar. We talked briefly about the song I had played on the jukebox -- but that was it. I didn't know him or anything. He got mad that the bartender called last call early and he threw a bottle, which I guess they have on video. So now he's mixed up in this whole thing ... but he was really just an innocent bystander."

The number for the tip hotline crawled across the bottom of the screen. I knew then that I was just one phone call away from being identified.

***

"I gotta go! Lots to do if we're hitting the road today."

I had a moment of panic.

Mattie's announcement that he was leaving came just a touch too quickly on the heels of the tip hotline and the reward for information on my whereabouts being on the TV screen.

Ever watchful that he was, he immediately picked up on my change of countenance.

"We *are* still hitting the road today, right? The more distance we put between us and this place, the better, no?"

I nodded my head and confirmed with him that there wasn't a change of plans.

"Of course. Out of dodge. That's the definite plan."

I didn't share with him that I had already decided there *would* be a change of plans. Sometimes secrets were necessary.

"Okaaaay," he said, dragging it out to make sure that I knew that he knew that I felt that things were NOT okay.

"I have to quit my temporary job ... and get us a car ... *and* do it all without raising suspicions ... AND all before check-out time."

He clearly had an aha moment.

"Are you going to handle Joey and Rochelle when they show up and fill them in on how you changed your mind about going back to PA with them?"

Again, I nodded my head.

"Yes. For sure. At this rate, I don't know if I'm EVER going back to Pennsylvania."

***

Mattie finished getting ready while I continued formulating my latest plan.

Or ... the *revision* of my latest plan ... as that was indeed the task at hand for me.

"Okay, kiddo. Catch ya later!"

It was easy for him to leave with those cheerful departing words -- he wasn't carrying the weight of his world on his shoulders.

"One down, two more to go," I mumbled to myself, as I scratched Gator behind his ears. "And then what in the world are we going to do?"

After Papa Kalfu's latest incursion into my dream space, I knew that I had to strike out on my own. I couldn't put anyone else at risk.

But striking out on my own was going to be extremely difficult if that meant I was going to be off the grid WITH a puppy.

Gator somehow sensed the struggle I was having.

He stretched out a paw, placed it on my thigh, tilted his head and looked deep into my eyes.

Was he giving me permission to go? Telling me that he understood that the road I was going to be on couldn't possibly include a place for him? Letting me know that he was little enough to carry memories of his short time with me into whatever situation he would next find himself?

Maybe I wanted to put those thoughts in his head.

Maybe he was actually so ecstatic over having been reunited, that the paw-to-person contact was his way of saying "let's not ever be apart again".

Fighting back tears, I placed my head next to his.

"A life on the road is no life for a dog," I whispered to him. "No life at all."

***

My puppy pity party was interrupted as the ones I had just thought of as "two more to go" showed up to the hotel room.

"You up?" yelled Joey as he entered, with Rochelle following behind. "You ready to do this thing all over again?"

Gator, always committed to his role of greeter, ran over to the both of them and jumped up to demand their attention.

"Hey buddy. Are *you* ready for another long car ride?" asked Joey of him.

"Good morning," I said, somewhat solemnly.

Rochelle picked up on my tone.

"Everything okay here?" she questioned.

"Kind of. There's been a *slight* change of plans ... and that means I have a new request of the two of you."

Joey stared at me blankly, waiting for me to continue.

He didn't wait very long.

"Come on, boy. Spit it out. We have a long drive ahead of us, and we need to get on the road. Believe you me, a trip WITH a pregnant girl this time is going to mean ten times the amount of stopping for bathroom breaks."

I took one of my patented deep breaths, and Joey had seen me do that enough times to roll his eyes in advance of what I said next.

"I can't go with you back to PA. It's just not safe for me to return right now."

***

"Well then ... *why* are we even here if you're just flakin' out on us?"

The bad thing was that Joey never really did like change.

The good thing was that Rochelle was a calming influence on him.

"Quiet," she said as she shushed him, and then turned to me. "You said you had something to ask us though?"

"I did. I do. It's a big favor, but I'd really appreciate it." I responded.

"What is it? We're kind of on the clock here. Every second you spend hemmin' and hawin' is a second we chould have spent on the damn highway."

"Babe, please!" admonished Rochelle of Joey for his comment. "You were saying?"

"I may not get back 'home' for a long time. I'm wondering if you can pack up the personal stuff in *my* apartment and put it in storage for me. I don't care about the furniture or anything ... just the little bit of stuff I have in my desk and on my shelves -- a few photos and the like. A few boxes and bins and you'd have it all. I don't have much."

Rochelle looked like she was considering ... and Joey not so much. I decided to sweeten the pot.

"Of course I would pay you for your time. And I'd give you the money to pay for the storage unit for the first year."

Joey shrugged his shoulders and turned to his girlfriend.

"Look, lady, it's your call. You only have so much vacation time and the goal is to get my stuff and get back down here as quickly as possible so we can start our life together."

I interjected before she answered.

"You can keep any leftover cash for your new place. Really, I'll be long gone by the time you get back."

Rochelle's ears perked up.

"Leftover cash? Left over from what exactly?"

***

"When I left Papa Kalfu's bar with the drug money we were sent there to steal, I actually skimmed some off the top ... and I hid it. In case they weren't telling me the truth about giving me a bus ticket and releasing me afterward."

For the first time since hearing that I changed up the plans and wouldn't be accompanying Joey and Rochelle back to PA, I saw Joey smile.

"You dirty birdie. You got the makings of a first class criminal after all, don't you."

"Well, I wouldn't go *that* far!" I countered. "I just thought that after all I had been through, I wanted to make sure that I had a way to get back to my original life."

I winced hearing myself say that out loud.

"And now that there is no way I can *ever* return to that life, it might as well go to a good cause. You guys can have what's left of it after you take care of putting my things in storage."

I looked at Joey for his answer, but he was looking at Rochelle.

"We can make it work. And you know what? Mario still owed me some money for the last few weeks of taking care of his sister, so, in my mind, this cash you took from Papa Kalfu because Mario told you too is kind of Mario's anyway -- so if some of it comes to me --"

"-- to US," interrupted Joey.

"Yes, to US ... then it's just karma," she continued.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it. One less thing for me to worry about ..."

There was an uncomfortable pause, only broken by Joey after a few moments.

"So ... the cash. You said you hid it? Where is it?"

***

"Laura's house."

I admitted to both of them where some of the stolen cash was hidden.

"Laura's house?" asked Joey incredulously.

"Yes -- Laura's house," I confirmed.

He still seemed surprised.

"The house we built?"

I laughed.

"Well, the house I *watched* being built. As I recall, I was mostly on trash duty during the project. But yes ... Laura's house. It was kind of the only place I could find when I was running away from Papa Kalfu's bar that night."

He still didn't believe me for some reason.

"So wait a minute. She was in on this whole thing too?"

"Oh no," I replied. "I buried it in the mulch bed on the side of the house. I did it in the dark in the middle of the night and skedaddled right after."

Joey looked at me ... then at Gator .. then back at me.

"Funny. Based on the timing of when you were there, so was Gator. We had dropped him off with her when we got to town and were trying to figure things out."

It all come flooding back to me. Of *course* he was there that night. When I was sneaking around in the shadows, I had heard a dog inside the house trying really hard to get out.

That must have been Gator and he must have sensed that I was close by.

Finding that out also gave me an idea for what to do next.

***

"And one last thing."

Joey flashed me a look of mock disapproval. Or at least I *hoped* that it was just mock and wasn't *real* disapproval.

"You're piling on here, buddy."

I started to speak but my voice caught in my throat. I couldn't fight back the tears coming to my eyes.

"I ... I ... I need you to take Gator with you to her house and ask her to keep him ..."

Gator heard his name, and popped up his head, gazing at me soulfully.

"I can't force him to go on the road with me. It just wouldn't be right."

I turned away to try to hide my face. Gator picked up on it, though, and came over to my side, nuzzling his snout against my hand. He wanted affection ... or else he wanted to offer me comfort.

Through watery eyes, I bent down and gave him a hug.

Our life together had been interrupted one too many times.

I couldn't put him through that again ... but yet that's exactly what I had to do.

"I'm going to miss you little guy. But you're going to a good place with great people. You'll forget all about me soon enough ... but I will never forget you."

I knelt there, not ready to let go. Not willing to let go. Not able to let go.

***

I probably could have predicted it, but Rochelle was the one who was in tune with her empathy.

Maybe it was because she was preggers ... maybe it because she was a career nurse ... maybe it was because anyone would appear extremely empathetic next to Joey.

"Are you sure you want us to take him?" she asked quietly.

I wiped the tears from my face and finally separated from my puppy.

"Yes. I'm sure Laura and Britney will take good care of him until I'm out of the woods with all this."

I wanted to add "AND I'm also sure I'll one day be out of the woods with all this", but I didn't necessarily believe it enough to get those words out.

"Okay buddy. Ready to go for a ride? Ready to go for a ride? Ready to go for a ride?"

I knew if I said it three times in a row really fast, he would definitely be excited and ready and distracted from the reality of our separation.

He started running in circles ... to the door ... back to me ... to the door ... smiling in that way that pit bulls do.

I knew that things would be a little better because I would have that smile as the way I would remember him.

I ceremoniously passed the leash to Rochelle and she got it attached to his collar.

"He'll be in good hands," she offered to me as comfort, as she took him out the door.

Joey came over to me and stretched out *his* hand, with a big smile on his face that seemed a bit out of place.

"Can I get a freebie for the road?"

***

"You know that's not the way it works, right?"

Joey kept on smiling, despite my comment.

"I know *exactly* how this works, remember? I'm pretty sure I'm like your number one target for your tricks. Or are you taking away the painful memories of someone else when I'm not around?"

"Very funny," I responded, before getting a little wistful. "You and I do go back a long way in a short time, don't we?"

Joey wasn't exactly the sentimental type.

"Yeah. Whatever. A little less sap and a little more shaking of my hand please."

I did as he asked, because I pretty much always did as he asked, and because I *was* the sentimental type.

I shook his hand and looked directly into his eyes, and the all too familiar sensations began.

In our past interactions, I had gotten a glimpse into the struggles Joey had with his parents, and even further back into the horrible accident with his high school girlfriend.

This time, though, there was nothing on the surface for me to absorb.

My special skill was that I could take away the pain of others with just a touch.

But Joey didn't seem to have any pain.

His grin got bigger.

"Life is good right now. I got a girl ... I got a kid on the way ... I got a plan ... I got a future ... and I got to save my friend. I'm fresh out of troubles for you, son."

With that, he broke our grip, gave me a wink, and left the room to join his wife ... with my puppy ... in her car.

"See you whenever," was all he said.

***

Alone at last.

Mattie was off running his errands -- quitting his temporary job and arranging for a rental car.

Joey and Rochelle were on their way to Laura's house to dig up the dirty cash I had buried there -- dirty now in ALL senses of the word -- before getting on the road to go back to central PA to pack up my things for storage, and Joey's things for moving in with Rochelle upon their eventual return to Florida.

And Gator. My Gator.

Well, he *was* my Gator, up until that moment.

Alas, he was no longer mine as he was en route to being returned to his place of birth -- to Laura's house.

I looked around the hotel room and paused to steel my reserve.

I knew what had to be done.

I had known it since the latest dream invasion that Gator had somehow cut short.

I could not put anyone at risk -- man, woman or dog.

They all had succeeded in saving me, and for that I would be forever grateful, but I couldn't expose them to the evil that I had met in Papa Kalfu.

This was *my* fight. *My* battle. *My* risk to take.

I looked for the little hotel branded notepad and a hotel branded pen.

When Mattie returned to an empty room, I knew that I at least owed him an explanation.

***

With hotel pad located and hotel pen in hand, I composed a note to Mattie.

Mattie:

There's been a change of plans.

Gator's going back to Laura's house.

Joey and Rochelle are going back to Pennsylvania.

You are free to go wherever you want.

Although I appreciate your offer to join me on the road, I have decided that I can't risk any harm coming to you because of what I've done or the people I now know.

Thank you for what you've done and sorry for the last minute notice.

One day we will look back on this and laugh.

Until then ...

Take care of yourself.

Alan

I put the note on the dresser by the mirror and placed the remote on top of it to keep it in place.

And then I headed out on my now *solitary* journey to escape south Florida and to go even deeper off the grid -- by my damn self.

***

[to be continued ...]

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