Blind turn, p.9
Blind Turn, page 9
“I’m not his Mamma,” Tootie said.
Karli asked, “If he asked you to be, would you?”
“What?” Tootie and Dex said at the same time.
Karli swallowed hard and pursed her tiny lips, “I said, have you asked her to be your Mamma?”
“No, I don’t know her like that!” Dex said.
“If she marries Mr. Merge and lives in this house with both of you, then what are you going to call her, Ms. Tootie? Dr. Muskrat?”
“My name is Musgrove,” Tootie corrected.
Karli said, “Okay, Dr. Musgrove, let’s see what you got. Come on then.”
Tootie looked around the room for help. One Way sat back, actually allowing his lips to form a smile while he watched the woman squirm. This was the exact way he had felt with the whole book scenario.
“I’m not sure what you’re even talking about,” Tootie told Karli.
“Hugs,” she said to Tootie. “Let me see what you got. I mean really, you can’t be ready for Mamma duty if you can’t give out a decent hug. Come on, get down here and show me what you got!”
Tootie looked at Willow, who was also looking at her.
Tootie looked at Joel, who was also watching her, encouraging her to hug the child.
Tootie looked at Mr. Exit, whose head was down as he tapped on the computer.
“Ain’t nobody gonna help me with this child?” she demanded.
Karli smiled sweetly. “All I’m asking for is your best Mamma hug. Come on. Don’t be shy.”
Her little arms were extended from her sides and Tootie got down on one knee. Karli walked into the embrace, resting her face on the large boobs, burrowing into the bosom like they were two large pillows.
“Go ahead, give me a squeeze,” she told Tootie, who obliged. “Ah that’s nice.”
Karli pulled away from the embrace, quickly grabbing Dex by the arm and shoving him into Tootie. “Your turn, tell me if it is a good hug?”
Dex was taken aback as Tootie stood up, waiting for the boy, who stepped into her arms, wrapping the skinny little digits partly around her, as he rested his head on the boobs. Tootie’s arms encircled Dex, not certain of what she was doing or why she was made to do it, but when she looked up at Joel, all of the questions and concerns went away.
This was how she would repay his grandfather.
This was how she would repay the years of kindness and care the man had shown her by giving her just enough money to pay for the propane refill each year which kept heat in the old cabin and lights on in the night. There were three more coming to this home and she would marry Joel and be this boy’s Mamma. She wasn’t ready for him to call her that, but in time...they would find a way.
“You feel like home,” Dex said to her. “I’ve never really had a home, but if I did, I imagine it would feel just like this.”
She patted him gently, pushing him away.
“I have an early morning,” she said aloud, which was a lie. Joel offered to walk her to the car, but she refused. “It was a pleasure meeting you all. Have a good night.”
“Tootie, you okay Baby?” Joel asked.
“Yes, and the answer is a size nine. Fat fingers,” she said, heading out the back door.
It had been years since Dr. Regina Musgrove had a good cry. Inside of the Mercedes Wagon, she drove around the forty acres owned by Joel to the twenty acres behind him where she lived. Tootie cried all the way home, partly for the boy Dex, partly for herself. He’d told her she felt like home.
She cried because the way he’d held on to her with his tiny, skinny arms, standing on the bent up, broke ass toes, he too felt familiar.
“He asked me to marry him to give us all a home,” she said, opening her mouth and bawling like a baby. “I love that raging asshat so much.”
JOEL SAT SILENTLY WATCHING her leave. Everything in him wanted to go after Tootie, but she was in her emotions and needed time. They didn’t have a great deal of it to spare and everything was going to change.
Mr. Exit was also watching the man. “You made room in your closet yet? She’s going to take it over.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
“Tootie. I can see the love you have for her. Is the Archangel going to marry you?” Exit asked.
“That’s right. He married you at that place in North Carolina,” Merge told him. “He also married the other guys too, didn’t he?”
“Including Zeke. I heard he married him via a face-to-face app,” Exit said, looking over at One Way.
“Don’t look at me. I don’t even have a regular woman, not looking for one either,” One Way said. “Speaking of a regular woman, I heard what happened to Wrong Way. What are we going to do without a Cleaner?”
Exit ran his hand through the thick black hair. “I don’t know really. That fool, the Glitter Man blew up her van, but he took all the chemicals inside of it. I have no idea where the Archangel is going to get the chemicals let alone another cleaner.”
“The chemicals came from me,” Merge said. “I make them all here. All of that stuff in the back of her van is made here.”
One Way and Exit both looked at him.
“What? I make a lot of stuff. Venom infused bullets, the stuff One Way uses in his ninja stars and poison arrows, all of it is done here,” Merge said.
“And what do you mainly use for your work?” Exit asked.
“I love a good cup of tea,” Merge said, adding a smile.
Both men looked at the table at the pitchers of iced tea. Slowly they turned their heads to look at Joel more closely. Exit squinted and One Way shuffled in his seat.
“I’m fucked up in the head, but not that fucked up, besides, like your daughter said, you’re my brothers,” Merge told him. “The funny thing is most of us have no other family. I think the Archangel knew that and he’s sending me three more kids. I guess it’s a fitting end since most of my teen years, he made me work with troubled kids at Summer Camp.”
“You’ve known him a long time,” One Way said, “and so have I.”
“He kind of saved my life and gave me purpose,” Merge said softly. “He made me come back here when it was the last thing I wanted but exactly what I needed.”
Exit spoke next, “He gave me purpose after leaving the military and nearly blowing up an entire compound of those so-called religious people who pull in lost women and turn them into prostitutes!”
One Way didn’t want to share. He wasn’t the sharing type to divulge personal information and especially not this kind. They were looking at him, and he needed to say something.
“My mother was killed by the Tribal Council, you know, Japanese mafia types covered in tattoos,” he said softly. “Either I became a member, or I had to fend for myself. He gave me a home, sent me to college, and gave me purpose.”
Exit sat there looking at both men. “You know what I want to really know? How old is the Archangel? I mean really, this man practically raised you both and he doesn’t look a day over thirty-five!”
They both stifled the laughter bubbling inside at a truth that wasn’t the least bit funny. Experience had taught them all that it was never about the age of a person. Lifetimes could be lived in a short time span, based on what the situation dictated. It could also be acknowledged, although neither of them would actually say the words aloud, that it really doesn’t take a great deal to pollute a soul.
Merge yawned. “I have an early morning and have to go to work tomorrow in St. Louis,” he told his newly acquired brothers. “One Way, it’s too late and too dark to be out in these parts in a sundown county. Take the couch for the night. Sheets are in the hall closet. Exit, I may be gone when you wake. Just make sure you wash the dishes. I don’t like dirty dishes in my sink.”
Dex stepped forward, “Mr. Thomas, what about me? What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?”
“Take care of our home, feed the animals, and be handy when the girl arrives. I should be back Friday afternoon,” Joel told him. “Good night, everyone.”
Chapter Nine – Taint
In Between an Asshole and a Sack of Nuts.
Dex heard him get up. The bag, which sat by the door of the office, was lifted in the strong, capable hands. He could feel Mr. Thomas standing in the doorway, looking down at him. Everything in the kid wanted to fling back the covers, run to him, and throw his arms around his waist. He wanted to wail, cry, and throw a tantrum begging him not to leave, praying he would return and to please stay safe, all in the same breath. However, he would lose cool points if he did that, and Mr. Thomas would think he couldn’t handle the life with him.
He could handle it alright; he just didn’t want to see it end before it started and got good. Plus, he was going to have like, siblings, if one could call them such at this early stage of the game. He was curious about them but not overly anxious to meet none of the grubby handed crumb snatchers.
Then he thought about Ayana Michaels. Several times he’d tried to get her to leave with him and each time she had an excuse. Had she listened, she could possibly be here now, sleeping under a safe roof with food to eat and no pervy daddy trying to get in her room at night. Later in the day, he would reach out to her. Maybe.
She would cry and want to come where he was, but in his heart, he couldn’t risk losing his good thing by bringing trouble in the front door. He could...he mulled the idea over while under the covers watching Mr. Thomas hesitate before leaving the office...get her in touch with the Angel guy. That man, he knew, could help her get out of the bad situation.
“Dex,” Joel said, coming back to the door, “you have the Con. Don’t burn down my house, don’t go in my greenhouse, and don’t fuck with my shit. The last thing you ever want to do is make me angry with you for breaking a rule I told you not to break.”
“Yes, sir,” Dex mumbled under the covers. He waited a beat, knowing Joel was still standing there. It was now or never. “Mr. Thomas...please be safe and come home in one piece. You’re all I got, and I can’t afford to lose you and have to go and live with Doc Tootie and eat her greasy cooking. I’ll have to run away again.”
Joel chuckled, walked into the room, and yanked on Dex’s foot. He made a point of not reaching for a toe, but instead the whole foot, giving a friendly tug and disappearing.
Afterwards, Dex lay there silently in the dark. The clock read four thirty. The sound of a truck, not the one they drove to town in, headed down the dusty dirty drive. Curious, Dex rose from the old couch, making his way into the living room. He looked at the couch for the Asian man, who was no longer there.
“I am here,” the deep voice said, startling Dex.
“You scared a little pee out of me,” Dex confessed, swallowing hard. “You leaving too?’
“I am when the light breaks over the horizon,” One Way said.
Dex turned to face the man sitting in the corner in the dark. “You’re trying to get out of here before that little girl wakes up and wants to put unicorn barrettes in your hair.”
“Yes, that is true,” One Way said, keeping a straight face.
“Funny, a bad man like you scared of a little girl like that,” Dex said, “but your secret is safe with me.”
“Is it, Dex? Are our secrets safe with you?” One Way asked, getting to his feet.
The kid swallowed hard. A little more pee leaked out, but he raised his chin high. He’d overheard the men talking at the table although he hadn’t said a word. He’d heard their confessions as if he were a priest hearing all and speaking of none.
“The home I left, they were meth dealers. All kinds of shady characters came through the place, and one night, I overheard my foster father making a deal with a supplier to trade me for a batch of cold pills,” Dex said. “He was going to sell me into the sex trade for a batch of cold tablets.”
One Way stood still and didn’t speak. The dark eyes observed the young man in the dim light, watching his face closely for signs of untruths and fabrications. Thus far he saw none.
“The Archangel guy saved my life and sent me here. I’m safe. There are no men in this house who hide in the closet and slip into my bed at night touching me while they touch themselves. I have slept well for several nights, with the exception of tonight,” Dex said. “If he doesn’t come back, and I know this is selfish, what will I do? Fend for myself, borrow Exit’s phone to call the Archangel? I don’t want anything to happen to him, so yeah, your secret is safe with me because I have too much to lose.”
Exit was standing behind Dex, and the moment he took a step backwards, he bumped into a solid. Hands, rough from labor, rested on the boy’s shoulder. Exit patted the shoulders and guided the boy back to the office and the couch.
“Go back to sleep, kid. Merge is very good at what he does,” Exit reassured him. “You’re not alone. We’re here. Nothing will happen to you on our watch.”
“Mr. Exit, what happens when your watch ends?” Dex wanted to know as he slid under the blanket, which really needed a good wash and airing out. It reeked of moth balls and fried meat.
“Don’t worry, kid; our watch never ends. There is always someone watching,” he said to add more comfort but instead instilled more dread.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Dex muttered and pulled up the stinky covers.
AS SOON AS THE SUN was up, Dex made the call to his friend Ayana, who was also up waiting patiently to hear from her best bud. She had held the phone in her hand all night as she slept on the floor against the door, just in case. The lady in the red van wearing a red hat sounded like the first chapter in a spy novel. She was nice enough.
Dinner was mashed potatoes out of a box, chicken slapped on a baking sheet, and a side of broccoli too mushy to hold any nutritional value. It was a meal, and for that, she gave thanks. This morning, she was even more thankful that no one knocked on the door and that no one showed up putting a dark sack over her head.
“Oh jeez, I am dramatic, aren’t I?” she said, looking down at the phone. It vibrated in her hand and she answered. “Hello. Dex. Hello.”
“Hey, you do okay last night?”
“I slept against the door. Kinda scared some man with shoulders wider than the entry was going to show up, have to walk in the room sideways because he was so wide, and the big man would throw a black bag over my head, carry me out the back door, and shove me into a black van,” she said, her eyes wide staring at the back of the door.
“Damn. You have a real dark side to you,” he said, frowning.
“You don’t even know the half...Dex, am I coming to stay where you are?” she asked.
“I don’t know, really. It’s not up to me. I barely have a pot to piss in or a window to pour it out of, so I can’t call any shots or make you any promises,” he confessed. “What I can ask for is your trust. The Archangel will call and tell you what’s next. Trust Ayana. It will work out.”
“If you say so,” she said.
“I say so,” he promised. “Call me when you land. Wherever you land. We will find each other again, one way or another.”
“Will do.”
The call ended, and Dex went to the kitchen. Mrs. Exit, or Willow, he thinks that was her name, was making waffles, fresh ones using a waffle iron and not a frozen box of square pressed paper shoved into a toaster. The sausages smelled like a bit of heaven and she asked him to come crack the eggs for breakfast.
“I need to go and collect the eggs as well,” he said, not trying to get into the kitchen. Cooking was not his thing and he wasn’t trying to learn.
Willow asked him, “Don’t you want to know how to make a simple breakfast?”
“I do know how to make a simple breakfast: bowl, cereal, and milk,” Dex said. “When I want to get fancy, I open a box of the tarts that pop and place them in the toaster for a hot meal on the go.”
He gave her a wide smile, showing off a set of big teeth loaded with calculus around the base. The child hadn’t been properly taken care of in a long time and it showed in his teeth and skin. Emotions covered her face as she looked at him, and Dex took a step back.
“I don’t need your pity,” he told Willow. “I’ve got chores to get done.”
He left the back door, holding a bucket and basket, one to collect the milk the other to collect the eggs. He also had to muck out Castor Bean’s stall, check on Oleander and Nightshade the two cats, and pray that Old Lace, the cow, didn’t kick the crap out of him as he tugged on her teats.
“It’s going to be a long day,” he mumbled.
THE DRIVE TO ST. LOUIS was less than six hours, but it still made for a long working day. Mr. Merge needed at least four hours to get in, get set up and make a nice cup of tea for one Erskine Fash of St. Louis, a man who specialized in the kiddie trades of pics, and occasionally, a real-life child.
He didn’t like these types of cases.
These types of cases were messy, but the only way to really get the evidence of the crimes was to catch them in the act. In Mr. Fash’s case, Merge needed to catch him with the computer open. It was easier to kill him with the system open than to poison him, lie to the man, and say he would provide an antidote if Mr. Fash would willingly provide the password.
He might be a killer, but he was no liar.
He was also going to be a father figure of four kids.
Four kids.
“Oh, I need to get Tootie a ring too,” he said, checking his supply list of items he also needed to buy this evening.
“Me. A husband and family man,” he said aloud as he drove the black Expedition into the St. Louis city limit.
He arrived a little after eleven in the morning, but the entire day went to shit, hurled through the air in minute bullets. Fash was on the move. The dead giveaway on the man was the dark van parked with the rear doors open wide, sitting at his back door. The heavy bags carried by two men with no necks were suspicious enough.
The movement inside of the bags was another red flag.
“Shit,” he said, pulling out his phone. He pressed one and waited for the voice.
