The Last Mile Trilogy Page 13

  On the road again.

  The vehicles were beginning to get cramped. Because of Nick’s size, he was supposed to move to H-2 with Manny, Tate, Greek and Bishop. He could huddle in the back by Bishop, side by side with Greek’s prone cast body. However, Mas wanted to get to know the others, and stated since he was smaller than Nick and grateful, he didn’t mind crouching in the rear of H-2.

  Once they had taken off, the ride was quiet. Unusually, quiet. Robi wanted to question Jeb on why he hadn’t said much at all. Mas needed for them to stop at another small town, ‘for supplies’ he said and something to work on until they stopped for the night.

  And since they had left, nothing was really said. Nick made comment about Mas confirming the arrival of foreign invaders, but had a hard time believing that someone in a farmers jean outfit had the mind to build and tweak a radio that would use a signal unheard to the invaders.

  Robi told him not to be a fashion racist, and more than likely, the mean spirited people that shot Mas and his friends probably made him wear the farmer jeans as part of the sick joke, before they hung him on the pole. Robi felt that theory was confirmed when Mas picked up newer clothes in that small town along with electronic supplies.

  Martha started fussing just about the time Nick was gearing up for a trip to Graceland—home of Elvis. She started crying and wouldn’t stop.

  “She’s hitting the bottle away,” Nick said.

  Doc grumbled, “She needs alien love. Or lilacs.”

  Nick shook his head.

  “Is she wet?” Robi asked.

  “I don’t know,” Nick replied.

  “Did she poop?”

  “Uh!” Nick grunted. “I don’t know. And don’t ask me to sniff her, her poop smells weird.”

  “It’s just that …” Robi winced when Martha released a shrill cry. She shifted her eyes to Jeb who stared out the window. After giving him a curious look for his behavior, Robi tapped his leg to get his attention. “I’m gonna pull over, OK?”

  “Why?” Jeb sat up.

  Robi pointed to the backseat.

  “Oh, OK,” Jeb said with a distracted nod.

  Mocking him with an ‘OK’ Robi signaled and pulled over. When she stepped from H-1, she held up a hand to H-2.

  “Everything OK?” Manny asked as he got from H-2.

  “Yeah,” Robi replied in a yell. “Baby is crying. Give me a minute to change her.” She walked to the side passenger door and opened it. “You guys can stay put, I’m just gonna open the back and change her.” She reached for the car seat and noticed Jeb getting out. “I don’t need help.”

  “If the ground opens up and swallows you, you will,” he said and got out.

  “Thanks,” Robi mumbled and lifted Martha. The baby stopped crying. “Is that it?” she spoke in a mother tone to the child. “You just need picked up.” She bounced the baby some and carried her to the back. “I’ll just change you anyhow. Just to be sure.”

  Jeb was opening the back of H-2 when she arrived. “She stopped crying.”

  “Yeah, but I’m just gonna change her just …”

  “Geba ma lee!” Mas cried with excitement. He clasped his hands together and raced to Robi. “Geba ma le tut me don.” He shifted locked eyes on Martha. “Apologies of my. Language I speak of mine. Have one you do.” He smiled brightly.

  “Yes.”

  The expression dropped from Mas’ faces and he looked lost as he reached for Martha. “One me too had lost.” He shook head. “By gun killed with others.”

  For some reason, this caught Jeb’s attention and he looked at Mas.

  Robi spoke compassionately, “I’m sorry. I’ve lost two children of my own.” She took a deep breath. “Yours is very recent. If there’s anything I can do.”

  Mas mocked Robi’s deep breath then forced a smile. “This seeing helps. Beautiful.”

  “Yes, she is,” Robi said. “Actually, she was left with Jeb.”

  Jeb interjected, “But Robi came along shortly and now we’re parents to her.”

  “Knows does the child.” Mas reached out. “Knows does she. Mother. Father.” He nodded to Robi then Jeb.

  Robi was going to make a rebuttal but didn’t.

  Mas continued, “Help you may need? Help I can give.”

  “I’ll take you up on that.” Robi winked “Right now …”

  “Ripe she is.” Mas smiled.

  “That’s what we’re thinking,” Robi replied. “I’m gonna change her.”

  “Ah …” Mas nodded. “Force no can do. Occur change will happen. Soon.”

  Robi looked curiously at him.

  Mas paused to think. “Baby …” He pointed to Martha. “Her own will she change soon. Worry you not. Tell I can.”

  Robi chuckled. “I meant her diaper. Yeah, babies constantly change.”

  “Hair.” Mas touched the golden crop. “Worry you not. Loose she will soon, too.”

  Robi snickered. “I know. Both my girls had a lot of hair and it fell out before they were eighteen months old.”

  “Hating to interrupt,” Jeb said as he stepped forward, “but can we do the baby diaper thing before the ground opens up and swallows someone?”

  Mas nodded. He grabbed Martha’s hand and looked at the baby. “Mother. Father. Gre Anan. Jeb. Rob-bi.” Brightly he smiled. “Soiled garments, let go I will you.” He stepped back. “Ah … Jeb?”

  Jeb looked up. “Yeah?”

  “Mine of attacks, planted not here. Safe. Sense I do of foreign mines.” With one more nod, he stepped back, turned and headed toward H-2.

  Robi pulled forth the diaper stuff.

  “Did he say what I think he said?” Jeb asked. “He senses the mines?”

  Robi dropped her voice to a whisper, “I think he said ‘minds.’ He probably thinks he’s psychic.”

  “Oh.” Jeb winked. “That actually makes more sense. But just in case he isn’t …” he handed her the baby wipes, “let’s hurry.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Graceland – Memphis, Tennessee

  The impact of it somehow wasn’t the same as when Manny visited the home of Elvis as a child. He recalled his mother crying at the gates and at the grave of the King of Rock and Roll. He toured the Mansion and grounds, bought some cheesy mug from the gift shop and posed for numerous pictures. He and his family were packed in the station wagon, sweating but excited.

  He always vowed one day he would return.

  He did, several times. But Manny supposed the impact of it all was sharing the experience with others.

  In a dead United States it wasn’t the same.

  He sighed.

  The uniforms of three security guards lay on the ground. At one time a body was in them, but like all the others, they turned to dust.

  He toured the grounds again; in fact, he was the tour guide because it was his sixth trip to Graceland. Everyone loved it. But Manny kept repeating, “It lost its impact.”

  Why Doc took instant photos he still didn’t know.

  There was a bright side. Manny finally got to explore the areas of Graceland that were always forbidden to the public.

  They weren’t as exciting as he thought. A part of him wished they remained hidden. But he did get one dream come true … he was staying at the Presley Mansion.

  Mas was a unique character. Manny drove him into town to the local Home Improvement store and grocer. Mas picked up items he needed to finish his radio project. Although Manny saw some of the items and couldn’t fathom how Mas was going to create radios, he was encouraging.

  Manny was anxious to see the completed project. Especially when Mas said, visually they have to be just as hidden as the signal. He locked himself in the dreary basement of Graceland. Tinkers and clunks emerged from there, but Mas’ noise was nothing compared to the bellows of laughter that flowed from the main family room.

  Bowl of microwave popcorn in hand, Manny adjusted the air conditioning, and walked into the living room. “Gotta love that Memphis still has elec
tricity. Popcorn?” he held up the bowl and then set it down on the coffee table. “Tate, how’s the game coming?”

  Tate and Nick were positioned by the huge screen television, getting a video game prepared.

  Tate answered, “Almost there. Check it out. We got a second pair.” He gave a nod to Nick.

  Nick held up the headset. “As soon we’re hooked up, we’ll enter the names. Everyone playing?”

  Even Doc agreed.

  Bishop heard that question as he finished getting dressed, hollered down a “Count me in” as he tossed on a tee shirt. He felt chilled and attributed that to the air conditioning. Of course, the coolness aided to his enjoyment of that hot shower.

  His shirt stuck to his damp body, but that was fine. He paused in the hallway to check himself out in the mirror. Usually, that wasn’t something that Bishop would normally do, but he had to on this day.

  “Whoa,” he thought. ”Elvis would like do the exact same thing. I am definitely doing an Elvis tune tonight.”

  The smell of popcorn pelted him and he eagerly hurried to the living room. Despite all the noise, Baby Martha was barricaded in a chair, sound asleep. Bishop paused at her makeshift cradle which was located by the door. He chuckled on how she could sleep through the racket, and then proceeded down the two steps into the main area. “We ready?” he asked, clapping his hands together.

  Tate was doing something with the controller. Names and letters moved on the television screen. “Before you ask,” Tate said, “there are no Elvis songs in this game.”

  “Fuck.” Bishop winced with disappointment. He spotted Robi on the one couch, sitting alone. Manny was with Doc on the other, and Greek was propped up on his dolly near the television.

  He plopped down by Robi. “You playing?”

  “Are you gonna laugh if I say ‘yes’?” Robi asked.

  “No, this is great. Have you ever played this game?” Bishop questioned. “It’s a lot of fun.”

  “I don’t even sing, so I doubt it’ll be fun.” Robi shrugged. “But I’ll try.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Bishop nudged her. “I remember when this game came out. I thought it was odd, you know singing into the game instead of pressing buttons. So like where’d you get the beer?”

  Robi gave an ‘up’ motion of her head. “Tate stocked the bar.”

  “Cool. Excuse me.” Like an excited kid, Bishop rushed to the bar, stepping over the table. He searched around and found the little fridge tucked under the bar. He retrieved a beer and when he stood he peered around. “Not that I thought he’d play this game, but where’s Jeb?”

  Tate finally set down the controller. “He’d play. He loves this game. But he’s not in the mood.”

  “Sleeping?” Bishop asked.

  “Nope.” Tate walked to the bar. “Out.”

  “Out?” Bishop chuckled. “What do you mean?”

  “A little place down the street.” Tate shrugged. “My brother’s being weird. I’ll just let him be until he shakes off whatever it is that’s bothering him.” After getting another beer, Tate found a floor position.

  Bishop saw it. No one else may have, but he did. As he turned from the bar, Robi’s expression all but said her attention was caught and drawn to the Jeb subject. Tate was nonchalant about it, but Robi didn’t look like he was. Her eyes watched Tate as if waiting for more information.

  “Hey,” Bishop spoke quietly. “You OK?”

  Robi nodded. “You think Jeb is?”

  “I think Jeb is a big boy …” Bishop said, “but you’re worried. Tate doesn’t seem to be …”

  “Tate wasn’t in the car with us today. No.” Robi again shook her hand “He’s got something going on.” She exhaled and stared out.

  “Come on.” Bishop stood and held out his hand.

  “What?” Robi asked looking at his wiggling fingers.

  “You don’t really want to play, I do. And you’re competition eliminated. I’ll walk you down the street.”

  She just stared curiously.

  “You want to check on him right?” Bishop said. “Alleviate your worries and come back. I think one of us should check on him. I stand firm by the belief that we shouldn’t be alone. That includes, big rough, tough Jeb.”

  After a brief look around the room in debate, Robi grabbed Bishop’s hand for leverage.

  <><><><>

  The tiny bar and grill really was only down the street from the Graceland mansion. Bishop walked Robi there and once they confirmed Jeb was inside, Bishop left.

  As strange as it was, the small bar was much more inviting to her. She slipped in the dark bar, lit by dim green hanging lights. A white luminescent glow came from the back with a ‘clacking’ sound.

  Hound Dog played on the jukebox, and Robi moved toward the shuffling of feet she heard in the back. The pool table came in view along with the sight of Jeb. He took a drink from a beer bottle, set it on the table and lined up his shot.

  Robi cleared her throat. “Is this a private game or can anyone play?”

  Hunched over, cue in hand, Jeb raised his eyes. “Robi.” He stood straight. “I thought you’d be with the others.”

  She shrugged. “I was. Heard you were here.” She moved to the pool table. “I haven’t been to a bar in ages.”

  “I’d think this would be the last place you’d want to be.”

  “Why’s that?” She asked.

  “You have a hard time with me.”

  “True but …” she said as she ran her fingers ran over the felt, “we are parents and …” she snickered, “we should try to make this work.”

  “Absolutely.” Jeb partially smiled.

  Robi tilted her head. “Your mouth is working again.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You haven’t smiled all day. I see one trying to peep out. Usually you smile a lot.”

  “Not much to smile about.” He set down his stick. “Wanna beer?’

  “I’d love one.”

  “They have imported.”

  “No way.”

  Jeb walked toward the bar, waving Robi to follow. He took a bartender’s position. “What can I get you?”

  “Ah.” Robi slipped onto a bar stool. “Give me a beer, and a shot of Jack.”

  “My kind of lady.” Jeb lined up two shot glasses and then scanned the bottles behind him. “Jack.” He found it and grabbed the bottle. He poured two shots.

  “Thanks.” Robi accepted it. “So, why didn’t you want to play the game?”

  “I was … pool.”

  With a single shake of her head, Robi held up her shot glass, tipped it to Jeb’s and downed it. She gasped. “I’m talking …” she paused to hit her chest, “I’m talking about the video sing along game.”

  “I wanted to be alone.” Jeb poured them each another.

  “Want me to leave?”

  Without hesitation Jeb replied, “No. I’d like you to hang out with me. I think … I think you and I have a lot of things in common. We just can’t figure them out because you’re always fighting with me. Cheers.” He lifted his shot glass.

  Robi kept up, downing hers as well. “You’re right. You annoy me. But …I’m not here to be annoyed. I’m here to find out what’s going on with you.”

  “What do you mean?” Jeb showed her the bottle in offer of another shot.

  Robi shook her head. “All day, after we found Mas, you’ve been quiet. You wanna talk?”

  Jeb stared at her for a moment. “Yeah, I would.”

  “Wow.”

  “What?”

  “I didn’t expect that.”

  “You think I’m like you?” Jeb asked. “You think I want to shut out the world. Be tough and not let anyone in?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Well … no,” he said softly. “Granted, there are things I won’t tell that bother me. But there are times you need someone.”

  “Do you need someone, Jeb?”

  “Yeah, someone that isn’t my brother or someone that w
on’t think I’m being lame.”

  “Then I’m that one. Talk.”

  Jeb nodded and leaned into the bar. He ran his hand over his face with a heavy breath. “What did I do today, Robi? I had my brother help me kill eight men today. Eight.”

  Robi looked upon him. “This is what’s troubling you?”

  Jeb nodded.

  “Understandable. You’re human. Yes, it will bother you. My God, I’d worry if it didn’t.”

  “I killed eight men.”

  “Who killed about twenty-five people,” Robi said.

  “But was I as bad as they were?”

  “Let me ask you this? Would you senselessly kill a group of people for no reason??”

  “No.”

  “You played Judge, jury and executioner, Jeb,” Robi said. “If you didn’t, if you let them go, who is to say they wouldn’t have followed us, or … wouldn’t have done that to the next town of people they hit. No.” She shook her head. “If they killed Mas’ people then they would have killed others. Doing so without cause. That’s not you. You didn’t do a wrong.”

  After a pause, Jeb said, “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Now …I’ll allow you to feel bad, OK, it’s justifiable. As long as you allow me to try to make you feel better.”

  The corner of Jeb’s mouth raised in a smile. “You’re on.”

  Robi pushed her shot glass forward. “Set us up.”

  <><><><>

  The game was pretty simple.

  The players wore a headset with a microphone attached and did their darnedest to sing along with the chosen song. Compete in a Karaoke video game tournament. The better you do, the higher the score.

  Doc made it.

  He didn’t get booed from the game, but the needle indicator that showed his points barely rose. Angry, he whipped off the headset, and stumbled his way to his seat.

  “Four thousand points. What in God’s name is that? I did good.”

  Nick laughed. “You shouldn’t have picked a chick song.”

  “I have a high voice,” Doc said.

  Nick scoffed with a laugh. “Yeah, sure.”

  “The game hates me,” Doc griped.