as her mother.
It would be a small funeral. A few lawyer buddies and perhaps a judge or two would be there all dressed up in dark suits and whispering importantly as the piped-in organ music drifted around the near-empty chapel. No tears. The lawyers would sit and glance at their watches while the minister, a stranger, sped through the standard comments used for dear departed ones who never went to church.
It would be a ten-minute job with no frills. The note on the dash required the body to be cremated.
“Wow,” he said softly as he took another sip. He turned the bottle up, and while gulping glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the weeds move behind the car.
RICKY SAW THE DOOR OPEN BEFORE MARK HEARD IT. IT
flew open, as if kicked, and suddenly the large, heavy man with the red face was running through the weeds, holding on to the car and growling. Ricky stood, in shock and fear, and wet his pants.
Mark had just touched the bumper when he heard the door. He froze for a second, gave a quick thought
to crawling under the car, and the hesitation nailed him. His foot slipped as he tried to stand and run, and the man grabbed him. “You! You little bastard!” he screamed as he grabbed Mark’s hair and flung him onto the trunk of the car. “You little bastard!” Mark kicked and squirmed, and a fat hand slapped him in the face. He kicked once more, not as violently, and he got slapped again.
Mark stared at the wild, glowing face just inches away. The eyes were red and wet. Fluids dripped from” the nose and chin. “You little bastard,” he growled through clenched, dirty teeth.
When he had him pinned and still and subdued, the lawyer stuck the hose back into the exhaust pipe, then yanked Mark off the trunk by his collar and dragged him through the weeds to the driver’s door, which was open. He threw the kid through the door and shoved him across the black leather seat.
Mark was grabbing at the door handle and searching for the door lock switch when the man fell behind the steering wheel. He slammed the door behind him, pointed at the door handle, and screamed, “Don’t touch that!” Then he backhanded Mark in the left eye with a vicious slap.
Mark shrieked in pain, grabbed his eyes and bent over, stunned, crying now. His nose hurt like hell and his mouth hurt worse. He was dizzy. He tasted blood. He could hear the man crying and growling. He could smell the whiskey and see the knees of his dirty, blue jeans with his right eye. The left was beginning to swell. Things were blurred.
The fat lawyer gulped his whiskey and stared at Mark, who was all bent over and shaking at every joint. “Stop crying,” he snarled.
Mark licked his lips and swallowed blood. He rubbed the knot above his eye and tried to breathe deeply, still staring at his jeans. Again, the man said, “Stop crying,” so he tried to stop.
The engine was running. It was a big, heavy, quiet car, but Mark could hear the engine humming very softly ~ somewhere far away. He turned slowly and glanced at the hose winding through the rear window behind the driver like an angry snake sneaking toward them for the kill. The fat man laughed.
“I think we should die together,” he announced, all of a sudden very composed.
Mark’s left eye was swelling fast. He turned his shoulders and looked squarely at the man, who was even larger now. His face was chubby, the beard was bushy, the eyes were still red and glowed at him like a demon in the dark. Mark was crying. “Please let me out of here,” he said, lip quivering, voice cracking. •
The driver stuck the whiskey bottle in his mouth and turned it up. He grimaced and smacked his lips. “Sorry, kid. You had to be a cute ass, had to stick your dirty little nose into my business, didn’t you? So I think we should die together. Okay? Just you and me, pal. Off to la-la land. Off to see the wizard. Sweet dreams, kid.”
Mark sniffed the air, then noticed the pistol lying between them. He glanced away, then stared at it when the man took another drink from the bottle.
“You want the gun?” the man asked.
“No sir.”
“So why are you looking at it?”
“I wasn’t.”
“Don’t lie to me, kid, because if you do, I’ll kill you.