“I’m not your real father,” the tall six something man warns. His golden main silvers. He wears a black T-shirt and jeans. A smack echoes. The boy reels his bright red hand back. “That’s bullshit. I’m adopted, you chose me. I don’t give a damn about whoever shit me out. You chose me. You can’t just abandon me,” “there isn’t anything else I can do,” “then It’s my turn,” “Don’t you dare. Take care of Gabby, she isn’t as hard as she wants to be. You hear me? You’re gonna take care of your sister,” “The woods won’t take you,” “and the blacks won’t risk it. I’ll be alone,” “You… they’ll kill you,” “maybe. They didn’t leave a letter… Did she tell you?” “No,” the boy with raven silk and green eyes states. His ear-lobes are attached, the lion’s subtly dangled. He is skinny and five-seven. The man before him is a bulky giant. “You’re left handed,” “What does that have to do with it?” “You’re also blue-eyed. I ran the Punnett squares during my science homework, got curious. You don’t have the genes, and neither does Gabby’s mom,” “Your last name… your last name,” the man’s voice cracks. “Is Jefferson,” “They’re-,” “Dead to me, dad, get to work,” Dex orders. He turns and slips out of the white and black room with a small round tan table.
He wears a set of black suspenders and a white dress shirt. The man studies the pipe. It has a tan soaring eagle, its heart guarded by the American shield. He sticks it to his lips. The fumes fill his lungs, calming his mind within a few moments of silence. “Remember our deal,” the woman to his left warns. She wears the exact same attire, but with a cane. The four foot cane has a flat golden door-knob top. Her black hair is tied back in a low ponytail, revealing her sharp leaf shaped ears. The nearly seven foot tall woman smirks. Get fast get stupid. Stay low, stay smart. “Don’t break the maze, and the door is open,” he comments, gripping his right wrist. Bu-dum bu-dum… bu-dum… bu-dum. He feels the slow but firm taps against his chest.
Cold wind whips and whistles, burning his Rudolph red nose. Dex puffs thin smoke. He looks at his square silver watch, flicking up his left wrist. Dexter sights. He removes the pipe. “You want it now, don’t you? I’ve gotta text my sister, let her know I’m back,” the man fishes into his pocket. The man takes out his phone. “Since when do you quip?” she comments. “Since I started smoking weed and still getting nervous,” Dex replies. He takes a draw of his pipe. “Hey Gabby,” Dexter greets. The pair step into an alleyway.
“Oh god,” the woman whispers. She wears a camo uniform. She crouches and looks across the locker room toward a man. He scoops up the radio. “Hey, first sergeant, I need a battle buddy. Jefferson is heading up to see you,” “Why?” “I don’t know, but she got a call and it’s messing with her,” “Send her up,” comes the exhausted reply. “My brother’s alive,”
Gabriella tears through the air. The bike roars. The soldier springs from her bike, spinning the key out. Gabby sprints toward the bar. He slips into the large brown rectangular establishment. Off to her left is a stage, with couches and tables. To her right is a dinner of square tables, a few put together. The soldier sighs. Dex nods. He sits toward the back. The soldier practically leaps over the chairs. Her arms whip around Dexter. “Dexy!” “Dexy?” “This is Gabby,” he presents the young woman. “How’s dad? I haven’t exactly had time to call,” “What happened to you?” “I started studying overseas. My phone wound up broken,” he explains.
“Why didn’t you stop- What do you need?” She takes her seat. “A place to stay,” “Did… Do you know what happened to dad?” “Yeah,” “He won’t last forever. What are you gonna do with four months of prep time?” “A temporary insanity plea won’t truly work like in the movies,” “and?” “Even if I gave them Hitler, right now, they wouldn’t set him loose,” “What are you going to do?” “Keep you out of it for your liberty and safety,” “No you won’t,” “Okay, but I need you stable so I can rely on you,” “Dex, what’re you going to do,” “I won’t commit any crimes. That’s the only thing I can tell you,” “Let me know when you need me,” “I always will,” “Who are you?” “I’m powerful,” “and… are those ears real?” “Yes,” “I take it she’s a friend from school?” “Sort of. She paid for my tuition,” “I’m his sponsor of sorts,” “what is he paying you?” “Something I can afford, don’t worry about it,” Dex states, standing up. “I’ll be back by midnight,” “here’s a key,” she removes it from her pocket. “I’ll be back in the morning. I live on base, but I… I thought you’d come back,” “You were right… Did you join the military or did you get held back?” “military,” “You… you said you didn’t wanna join,” “I-I changed my mind,” oh, shit. “I’ll be back to paying the rent before your contract is up, how many years?” “Just four,” four.
By not telling her I stole four years of her life. I stole four years, inflicted suffering. She’s a slave to a chain of command, because I didn’t tell her. The young man walks toward the glass. Jefferson sighs. The phones click. “Gabby called,” “Yeah,” “Said you did some studying overseas,” “Yeah,” Dexter takes his seat. The pair stare at the other. Dex looks down at the stone ledge. “Get to work,” George orders. The phone thuds. Dexy nods.
The red-head puffs out smoke. He walks past light brown pews. He wears a nice simple black and white suit, three piece. The man sits down. His crimson ponytail shines like silk. He has yellowed fangs. The man looks at his silver Rolex. A giant of a man with a golden goatee walks over. “You’re new,” “moving in. trying to find a good church, call me Tommy,” Thomas offers a hand. The pair firmly shake. “Well Thomas, we’re happy to have you?” “What brings you to our town?” “just a small town I can restart in,” “Moving is pretty expensive, need any help?” “Nah, I have an online business, I buy and resell unbought products. Then, I find people who’ll buy and sell it to their doorstep,” “pretty smart business strategy,” “Yup,”
“Well, sure you don’t need man power?” “I’ll manage,” The Irishman states. “Well, enjoy the service,” “You too,”
The man walks with a slight limp. The fight was months ago, long enough for a popped knee to heal. The man spots an elderly man up front. To the man’s right is a blonde bow with a bright red bowtie and golden locks. “Grandpa, can I go play with Max?” “No! Service is about to start. Sit down, boy,” he snaps coldly. The man keeps his back straight. On his dark green suit are various rectangle pins over his heart. Two red squares, a blue line, and a white rectangle in the center. Army, an officer with great responsibility and he did something right.
The eagle of his pipe clutching arrows is pinned to either shoulder. A colonel. Armed forces service medal too, iraq and a war on terror medal as well. The man looks up from his phone, closing the tab out. So, he’s a retired major of the army. The man looks over at the pulpit. Tom sighs. He spots the man. He is a black haired man with curly hair and piercing blue eyes. The chiseled jawline is accompanied by a firm lean frame standing at five-eleven. He’s either a face, or he’s smart enough to have the old guy as his advisor. Either way, they’re both important, and important enough to leave alone. “Welcome to the church. Everyone makes sure he feels welcome,” the man in white silk orders. “I hear you’re moving into town, need anything let us know,”
So, he’s in charge of recruiting at the very least. Supports both conclusions. They’re feeding him information, value confirmed. “I’ll manage, thanks for the offer,” being polite does not mean I owe him. I do not owe this man for politeness. I am not admitting I owe him in any way shape or form. Bu-dum bu-dum bu-dum. Stay low stay smart. Tom takes a quick quiet and deep breath through his nostrils. His stomach expands. Thomas holds. His exhale is slow as his pink lips crack to release cool air. Tom gulps heavy fear. Stay low stay smart.
“There are people, good and bad people. Jesus will love every one of them. There are white people who are very bad men and black men who are very great men, like MLKJ. he was a great man, Frederick Douglas. Must not be divided. We are a family under god. MLKJ agreed. We must strive to be great men regardless of our physical limitations. The only way is by loving each other, providing one another hope, a purpose. God offers that purpose,” as long as they aren’t lesbian. First book of saint john, we must love even those who commit the grave sin of sleeping with their fellow man.
“Whether they be strangers or not,” he states. “You’re a very analytical mind, constantly thinking. You don’t have to stop thinking. We will never strip you of your thoughts or free will. God is simply a wise man,” if god knows the future how can there be free will if he is also perfect stance, clever. “And remember, we give unto Caesar what is his,” he did his research, I didn’t ask anyone directions I went through the website. There’s a chance they missed something so he’s compensating.
“Thank you for coming to our humble abode, please, stay as long as you need. Do you have a bible with you?” he asks. Tommy looks about. He finds the light brown wooden drawers empty. Dex glances between them. “Someone?” he asks. A hand over his shoulder hands him the black and gold leather bound tome. “Thank you,” I owe him nothing. I will not be indoctrinated again.
“Now, let us begin tonight’s service. Will all rise for prayer?” he asks. Everyone moves. Their weights shuffle. Pews creek. Everyone bows their heads. His nape is exposed to the frozen air that jabs at his ribs like daggers. Stay low stay smart. “Dear heavenly father, thank you for allowing us to come tonight. Please touch and heal sister Maria who was unable to make it today. Please touch and heal every man, woman and child that requires it, may they be fed. May our lives be blessed and in your name. May we be strong and integrous. May we use our choice wisely. May we have long, prosperous, and joy filled lives; In Jesus’s name, amen,”
He walks up the aisle. “Tommy!” the priest calls. Thomas turns around. He flicks for him. Tom walks toward the carpet stage. “If you’ve got any questions, just ask,” the old man gruffs. “This is brother Albert,” “You were glancing at my pins,” “Sorry, sir. I noticed some of the awards, thought I’d look them up,”
“Then I take it, you know where I’ve been?” “I didn’t get a good look, but I’m guessing you were a great soldier,” “officer,” he corrects. “Lead my men to victory. I did in the name of God, and he delivered me,” the man states. “Will you be staying for dinner?” “No, I have something pre-arranged, next time,” the man pats the old colonel on his shoulder. The toe of Dexter’s shoe pushes against the carpet. His left shoe’s toe rises. Jefferson spins around. He walks up the aisle.
The pair look at one another. The older man scowls. The young man smirks. Both turn and walk up the stairs, going above the stage to a large area above the mounted TV. “Thoughts?” “he’d make a good general,” “Well, we’ll need everyone we can get,” “talk to the chief, he might need some persuading, be ready for it,” “Of course,”
Dexter pulls the wig off. “Any progress?” “I have a lead on someone that isn’t a grunt,” the man pulls the yellow dentures from his mouth. He places them in a small clear box that squeezes them. “And?” “Other than that nothing actually happened,” “and you’re sure they didn’t see through your disguise?” “Well, if they find out I’m here, then all I have to do is magically have yellow teeth again,” “That doesn’t answer my question,” “They shouldn’t have. I researched the pins in case he saw me. They talked to me about it casually and then they let me go. They have their own Wi-Fi, meaning they can monitor anything on it. If they suspect I’m lying they can look at that and thus I have credit with them,” “But that doesn’t mean you’re not against them, anyone against them could do that,” “they didn’t see through my disguise. If they suspect Laurens then I can restart with Hancock,” “hand cock? Babe-,” “Hancock! He’s a founding father believe it or not,” “what happened to not standing out?” “ever hear of painting it red or hiding the trees in the forest?” “it’ll put them on high alert, go with… how about Franklin?” “Sure,”
The man with a golden goatee smirks. “It’s rented to a Thomas Laurens,” “Anything else?” “calling the rental business, give me a sec,” the woman replies. “I should be able to get an address,”
The man approaches the car. The golden cone illuminates the hood. A dark parking lot stretches out. He looks around the forest before him and the countless forests of brick behind him. His phone clicks. “He’s got a background in something all right. It’s a parking lot, only one in it,”
“Shit,” the young adult looks at the white oval with a screen. “What?” the woman in the bathroom questions. The man with a towel around his waist sighs. “They found the car, tracked it down. They might not know it’s me… what… damn,” “What gave you away?” “About face. If I know how to do an about face and I’m not a rookie cadet, I’ve got a background large enough to know awards and ranks,” “So, Laurens is compromised,” the woman comments, stepping out. “Yup,” “franklin?” “Yup,” “if he vanishes they’ll know he’s been compromised,” “and if a new guy pops up a few days later, he’ll be shot on sight,” “What’s the plan?” “I’ll let you know when I figure it out,”
He pulls the shirt down. His black silk is tucked underneath the crimson twine. He inserts the dentures. The man rolls up his sleeves. Two thin straps connect the black rectangles to his forearm. “Step one, I walk straight up to the church,”
Thomas marches toward the giant of a man. He moves toward the steps of the church. A pistol clicks. The knife thuds. Tommy raises his hands. The chubby young man grabs his hair. The wig slips off. A blade clicks out. Blood oozes from the man’s wrist. His left foot slams between the boy’s legs. His wrist flicks out. The pistol is ripped from the man’s hand. A boot slams into his ribs. Gravel dust flies. A burning pressure pushes against his ribs, throbbing.
The man raises the firearm. “Poin-dexter?” “Boney?” “What- your papa’s in jail, ain’t he?” “Makes sense,” the well dressed man greets, walking down the steps. “You’re-,” “We’ll talk inside,” he states, offering the man his hand. He rips the hand away as the blade flicks out. John smirks. “Clever, disarm him,” Johnny orders. Jonathan walks up the steps.
Dexter walks down the aisle. His hands are zip tied before him. “Change it!” the older man snaps. He rips the plastic past his ribs. Crack! His forearms are grabbed. An officer in blue springs over. Her cuffs click and zip. The dirty blonde woman steps back. His hands are pinned behind his hip. “Jefferson, you know him?” “Old high school buddies, chickened out. Probably here for his papa, got caged a few months back. Then, he went missing,” “killing us won’t free your father, if anything it’ll hurt his case. You can nuke this church, and there will be a new one a few towns over,” John states.
“You’re either the fall guy or the guy in charge being played by an old guy. Either way, you don’t need to worry,” “You of all people should know the trust I have for my greatest advisor,” he’s the guy in charge. “Noted,” “We’re making the world a better place. There are white savages. We will tame a white savage like we will a black savage. A savage is a savage. Why are you putting race into the mix?” “My sister,” “What?” “now that I have your-,” “This isn’t a game,”
Stay low stay smart. Bu-dum… bu-dum.. Bu-dum. “You’re gonna let me go?” “Why?” “Because my sister will call nine one one if I’m not back within an hour or if I’m harmed in any,” his face freezes. The man jerks. The officer smirks. Bu-dum bu-dum-bu-dum-bu-bu-dum.
“Well, even if you do escape you’re wanted for trying to kill people in revenge for your father’s twisted fantasy. Nobody’ll believe you once it gets sent to any news that isn’t local. Son follows father’s twisted foot-steps,” slow down dammit! Slow down! Slow down! Slow down! He throws his foot forward. Dex is yanked back. Slow down! I need to slow down!
“Well, you really do seem like a nice guy, but I’m not gonna spend an hour monologuing,” John states. He glances between himself. Think! Dammit Dexter, think! Adrenaline! I forgot to think, thinking thinking is fuck! Fight!
His foot slams into the tall man’s knee. The man to his left grunts. The joint gives way. He dashes behind the man. A deafening crack rings. It tears through the man’s chest. Dexter watches it skim his right shoulder. The man grabs the gun from his left holster. Burning lead flashes yellow. His back screams at his brain fire! The burning agony is a thin Knick on his shoulder. The man kicks the man forward. The pistol flicks. A third crack causes the lunging goon to grunt. His pistol whips toward the priest. “He dies!” “the church lives on!” “fuck!”
Dexter lunges. He dashes under the pew.
Wood chips flutter. Jefferson glances about. Kill! The pistol cracks. He spots the blurs of motion sprinting apart. The officer pushes against the pew with her back. Her arm swings over. “Drop your gun asshole!”
Dexter dashes from under the pew. He lunges for the podium. A crash thunders. “Augh!” Dexy cries. Blood oozes from his leg. The TV is cracked and bent. John flicks his wrist. A small pistol clicks. It is aimed down. “Muscles tense when the body dies!” Dex shouts. His arm shoots out. “I die, your father goes with me!” “Cold, I know what I'm dedicating my life to,” he states. “I took an oath too. I took an oath to be patriotic, to be accountable for my actions and deeds. I pledged to be loyal, to put what is right above myself. You know that this isn't right. Deep down this goes against every part of your oath,” “Hurry up and pull it!” Johnathon senior snaps. “I-it… it still,” the bullet cracks.
A firework flashes gold. The boy grunts. He hisses out through his teeth. Dexy grunts. Olivia jogs over. She raises the pistol. “You don’t have to do this,” “I-I… they still control the town. He’s escaping and you can’t catch him. You can’t win this. They have the police chief,” “fire your gun,” “I-…-,” “Shut up and shoot your gun,” his left hand shakes.
The man crawls toward the door. Blood oozes from his shoulder. Olivia sprints forward. She grabs the man. She spots the steel door. The pair slowly make their way toward the doors. The chubby man pokes his head around. He spots the blood oozing from his back, his shirt torn. The man gags. He retches. The puke is a deep green. The heat burns the man’s agonizing throat. “Oh god, oh god he’s dead!”
“I uhm… I kind of need you to pick me up from the hospital,” “What?! What happened?!” Gabby demands. “I uhm… I kind of got shot… and my leg was crushed by a TV,” “A TV? Crushed-,” “it was a big TV, and it only hit my leg. Everything else will be fine in a week or so. It might be fractured, it’ll take six weeks to recover. Until then, I'm out of commission,” “Then you’re a sitting duck,” “I don’t have time, but I do have morphine,” Dexter giggles. “Anyway, got a piece of paper and pencil?”
Metal loudly groans. The figure’s white silk floats. It walks past the men in deep robes and pointed hats. It snatches the small wooden mini-planks from the hands of a figure. It sharply exhales from their nose. “Really?” the creature’s pale and firm forearm pokes out. The flick of the wrist sends a puff of smoke onto the brush. A flame erupts out. “Quit twisting dad’s word around, jerks,” the figure orders, walking toward the forest. “Wait! What is-,” “You’ve got it, now read it,”
Olivia stands next to the man. “What?!” the dirty blonde man shouts. He throws his phone against the desk. “Sir?” “The pew-people are rebelling, claiming an angel came down and scolded them. Why would an angel need to wreck a car anyway?” “Power?” Olivia offers. “Don’t tell me you buy this shit too?!” “I-I that’s probably the ruse. Magicians paint stuff red so you look at something blue,” “okay then what’s blue?” “I-I don’t know I’m just… you know that’s what they do,” “Fine, go down there and get them in line,” “H-how’d they crush the-,” “Go investigate!” the officer shouts.
Olivia moves toward the car. She spots shining hand prints, the door itself laying maybe ten feet to her right. She walks up the hill and into the forest. Olly sighs. The smell of gasoline wrinkles her nose. “Jesus that smells,” “god! God came!” “It was an angel, Sherly!” an old man calls, tossing his white garment into the crackling flames. “That’s evidence!” she shouts, pointing to the small huddled crowd. The group step back. “Everyone, tell me what happened, beginning to end,”
The soldier steps inside. Johnathon walks across the hospital room. He sits beside the young adult. “Congratulations, you have my respect,” John promises. Jonathan takes his throne. He reaches for the phone. “Your memory just isn’t that good,” he states, pushing the red square, squishing it into a circle. “What gave me away?” “Your contacts were empty, someone who buys and resells things from people doesn’t have any empty contacts. Plus, I was still watching your contacts. I couldn’t confirm a kill. If you’re alive you’re gonna call someone to guard you,” “and?” “Her phone is still on the way,” “you won’t get out without her seeing you,” “and I take it the cop you planted is probably using her bodycam, isn’t she?” “Yeah,” “my church house is gone, same for my reputation. We’ll rebuild. Strong men will see our strength and know their place is with us. My commanding officer won’t let your father survive, and I won’t let your sister survive,”
“You didn’t fight in the cold war, did you?” “I’m well aware of what you’re offering,” he states, reaching over the panel. The man pushes down on the warm arrow button, stinging his finger. “A man with nothing left to lose, but a single mission, is in my opinion, the scariest man possible. It is why the Japanese pushed us into the nuclear age, forcing America to hit them with the single most devastating attack in history, twice,” “it’s also why the civil war was the bloodiest war in American history,” “Because we died fighting for what’s right, freedom,” “the confederates were more tyrannical than the union in policy and practice,” “we’re just going to have to agree to disagree. I was going to leave you be. It really is the war of northern aggression,” “No,” “after all this time, your father still doesn’t go free,”
“It wasn’t about reuniting my family, not entirely, what stopped you from just doing it to me? What stops you from raping my sister because she’s bi? What stops you from making gas chambers?” “Really? Comparing me to a Nazi?” “just like I compare the left, and reasonable republicans. Don’t dishonor that uniform. The lack of accountability. I agree with some of your policies, I think I should own a bazooka,” Dexter chuckles. “That way I can use it on people like you,” he states, raising up his phone.
The man smooshes the square to a circle. “How’d I make the hand prints?” “What?” “How’d I make the handprints? Gabby’s on her way here. Olivia’s at the scene and recording the police chief. How’d I make the hand prints?” Dex comments. John spins around. The woman draws the silver blade’s leather handle from her cane. “Kneel,” comes the firm command. “I like morphine but damn,” Dex comments, reaching over slowly. “What the hell are you?” “Your better. Kneel to me,” “If I am to die, it will be on my feet,” he states, pushing against the arms of his chair.
The blade pushes against his shoulder. “It will be how I order you to die,” “that’s enough. We have our confession. There’s no need to kill him,” “Why should you kill someone weaker like myself?” “No. you’re not weaker than me. I don’t have to kill you, so I won’t,” Dexter states, accepting the pipe. “Bye the way, I unplugged the morphine,” he states, taking a puff. “If you'd smelt the weed it might have given me a way, curse your nose not me,” one risk for another, pure luck. That’s the only reason that I won. That single mistake flew under the radar. That is the only reason I won.
He spotted the old nose, stung and cursed by gun powder. That is why I have chosen you. Your potential for deduction, or for magic. The potency of your eternal potential. That deep soul’s determination, the ability to mold and to bend your soul. That is it. That is why I have chosen you. This is why your everlasting soul will be with mine through every universe.