Part 31 (1/2)

I kicked him, over and over again, but he didn't move. There was a gaping, b.l.o.o.d.y hole in his chest. I knew he was dead...and I knew that Alma and the baby inside her were dead and that David was dead and...

that my dad was dead.”

I couldn't stop the tears now. ”And that I was alone in the middle of the night.”

I stopped. There were no words anymore.

”Thanks, Micky. Little Micky. I had to know. You always were the best kid. You deserved better,” Ben said. His voice cracked.

”So did you, Ben,” I cried out.

”Take care of yourself, Little Mick. Keep a hold of the best memories,” Ben said. ”It's too late for me. Too many bad ones.”

He let go of Cordelia and pushed her to me.

”Oh, my G.o.d,” she said, putting her arms around me. I held her tightly. She was shuddering.

* 205 *

”It will be all right,” I said, looking at her.

The only sound was our breathing, the three of us, distinct and audible in the dusty silence of the warehouse. Then behind me, the soft breath of another person. Ranson was there. I glanced at her, and the bulge beneath her jacket. I let go of Cordelia to keep myself between Ranson and Ben.

”Give me the gun, Ben,” I said. ”You don't need it anymore.”

”I'm going back to jail, ain't I?” A horrible bewilderment crossed his face, perhaps realizing that what little he had left, he had lost.

”No,” I said, then, ”I'll do what I can.” Because I knew that I couldn't stop him from going back to jail.

”Please give us the gun,” Ranson said, trying to slowly edge past me. She reached out and took Cordelia's hand, pulling her to safety behind us, telling her quietly, ”Go. Walk out of here now.”

”Joanne...Micky-” Cordelia started.

”Just go,” Ranson cut her off.

Cordelia slowly backed away, unwilling to walk away and leave us, but not wanting to directly disobey Joanne. She moved behind a heavy wooden crate, but went no farther.

”I can't stand jail, I jus' can't do it,” Ben said softly, as if pleading with heaven itself. ”Stay where you are!” he suddenly shouted as Ranson took another slow step toward him. ”G.o.dd.a.m.n lyin' cops!”

”No, Ben,” I moved quickly, putting myself between them again.

”Go 'way, Micky. Get outta here. If I kill a cop they kill me. Better 'n rottin' my life away in jail.”

”You don't want to do that, Ben.” I took a step toward him.

”I don't want to go to jail. That's all I want-not to go to jail.” The desperation in his voice scared me.

”Joanne, back off.” I turned to face her. ”He won't hurt me. Let me talk to him,” I said in a low voice, not wanting Ben to hear me bargain with her for his fate.

”And what are you going to say?” she answered softly.

What was I going to say? What the h.e.l.l was I going to say? What words did I have to recall those lost years and burned lives?

Joanne took my arm, gently trying to push me out of the way.

”No,” I said, savagely shaking off her hand. I wasn't close enough to get to Ben. Ten or fifteen feet still separated us-that and all the differences between us. ”Let him go. End this now.”

* 206 *

Joanne slowly shook her head. ”I didn't start it, Micky. There are always consequences. He chose this end.” She took my arm again, trying to pull me behind her.

”He might shoot you.”

”Get Cordelia away from here,” she told me.

”Get out'a here, Micky,” Ben called. ”I don't want you hurt, Mick, G.o.d help me, I don't want you hurt. Now get out'a here. This don't concern you no more.”

”I'm not moving,” I yelled. ”It does concern me. You can't just shoot each other.” I grabbed at Joanne, not letting her push me aside.

Not letting Ben get a clear shot at her.

”Please, Ben, put the gun down. Micky's right, we can't just shoot each other. That won't solve anything,” Joanne called to him.

”I got nothing to lose...”

Ben intended to die here. His life had been pared down to a need to avenge the murder of his wife and kids. On parole for manslaughter, he would spend the rest of his life in prison even if he did put the gun down right now. Don't do this to me, Ben, I wanted to shout. But what right did I have to ask that? What part had I played in his life for the last twenty years?

”Ben, please...there has to be some other way,” I said hopelessly.

”There's no other way. Not for me, Micky. You go 'way now. Your dad wouldn't want you here.”

”It can't end like this,” I said angrily, feeling Joanne's restraining hand.

”Micky,” she warned. ”Don't make me fight...” She stopped.

I tried to pull away from Joanne, but there was no time. I could only stand and watch. Ben put the barrel of the pistol into his mouth and pulled the trigger. Its report was hollow, m.u.f.fled by the flesh and bone of the man, muted echoes quickly dying in the empty warehouse. He wouldn't be going back to jail.

I couldn't stop staring, still desperately trying to recognize Ben in the b.l.o.o.d.y ma.s.s that now lay on the dirty floor. Cordelia had to bury my head into the crook of her neck, so I couldn't see anymore. All the best memories...

We were no longer alone. Cops, reporters, who knows who, entered the warehouse. Somebody pulled us apart and Cordelia was hastily dragged into the crowd. If she had been shorter, I would have * 207 *

lost track of her immediately. I saw Th.o.r.eau put his arms around her.

Then she was gone.

No one came out of the crowd to hold me. I stood stupidly for a moment. Then I angrily wiped my face with my sleeve.

”Uh, Ranson wants to talk to you,” Hutch said, appearing very suddenly for a man his size. I followed him to where Ranson was talking heatedly to several other people. I didn't listen to what they were saying. Ben was behind me. I kept wanting to turn back and look, just to be sure that his head was shattered open. But I kept my back turned. Unless he was going to get up and be Ben again, I couldn't let myself look.

”I said, have you ever obeyed an order in your life?” Ranson repeated, standing very close to me. I hadn't seen her turn to me and I hadn't heard her talking.