Authors: Thomas Melo
Jim was met with silence on the other end of the phone.
“M-Mrs. Swanson? Cindy?”
“I’m here…I-I just…” The fact was she did not know where to begin with Jim. “It’s that wife of his…I know it is,” Cindy shared her eureka-moment.
“Lilith,” Jim confirmed.
“Yes! There is something about her. There has
always
been something about her,” Cindy continued. An image of Lilith and that ghastly smirk,
her
smirk, flashed at him through his study window, which looked out over his black backyard. Jim shivered, erupting his flesh into goose bumps as he turned away from the window and sat down in his study chair, being sure not to look through any windows or into any mirrors for the remainder of the night.
“I know it, Cindy. Is Mr. Swanson awake with you now?”
“Ray is away on a conference until tomorrow afternoon. I know she has something to do with this, Jim. Directly or indirectly, and I don’t know what to do. What kind of trouble do you think he is in?”
Jim was confused as to why she was at a loss for what she, Tyler’s mother, could do about the situation.
“Well, what I suspect is that someone who is unhappy with he and Lilith’s business ventur
e–
”
“You mean the modern-day Colosseum? I had contempt for that idea since he told us. How could my son breed such brutality? He was raised so much differently than that. And the compassion he had…it was almost to a fault growing up,” Cindy began sobbing.
Jim continued gingerly. “As for what to do, couldn’t you call him to warn him to be careful or hire some extra security to follow him?”
“I’ll try again, but I haven’t had any luck with trying to find out his number or address in the past. After we had a falling out, about the blood money he was making, he changed his cell phone and house numbers and since he has a sort of
celebrity
status
now, I can’t find out
anything
regarding his personal information. I think it was that bitch wife of hi
s–
excuse my languag
e–
that did it, to be honest. Tyler is too compassionate to turn his back on his father and I. He’s always been easy influenced by people around him and I think this time a really depraved person got her hooks into him. That’s the only explanation for what he has become,” Cindy explained.
Jim knew that in some way, this was therapeutic for Cindy, so he kept quiet and let her go on for another few minutes, carefully bringing himself to gaze out his study window ever now and then. His once black backyard was now dimly illuminated by moonlight. Jim could see the Apollo tree through his window, and just like that, was struck with an idea.
“Mrs. Swanson, I’m sorry to cut you off, but I have to go now. Please try and get a hold of your son in any way possible.” Jim hung up before she had a chance to respond. Jim grabbed his jacket, which was draped over the back of his desk chair, and headed out of the room.
Chapter 22
It was 12:16am in the west when Jayson met Tyler at a bar they frequented at an inconspicuous location off the strip. The bar, McJagger’s, was nestled within a strip mall on Nevada State Route 160. It was the consummate home to a dozen solid local music acts that drew a dense crowd, but not the type of crowd where they would be moving on to anything bigger anytime soon
,
if at all. The location was unassuming, as successful bars in the area were typically stand-alone buildings with flashy sign
s–
in true Las Vegas fashio
n–
that would draw people from the parkways. McJagger’s was slotted between Wang’s Laundromat and a slightly upscale haberdashery.
On that particular night the bar was relatively empty. There were no music acts scheduled to play, and the music acts brought most of the clientele. Jayson walked in as A Day in the Life, by The Beatle
s–
still relevant after over sixty year
s–
rang out the final sustained E-chord. To paraphrase a brilliant New England writer, “All good songs start with E.” I would contend that they also
end
with E.
Tyler motioned to his long-time friend and colleague, who saw him right away in the nearly vacant bar and headed over to him. “Hey Ty, what the hell are we doing out so late?”
“Jaaayson! Good to see you! You wannna drink? Have a drink. Have one. Sidown, for the love of Mike, wouldja?” Tyler beckoned in his best interpretation of alcoholic sign language. Jayson sat with his friend, although the discomfort was prominently plastered to his face. He knew Ty for a long time, and knew him well enough to know that Ty was not one to frequent bars, save for the occasional friendly invite or circumstance. This meant that if he
was
at a bar, drunk as a skunk, and alone above all, this must not be a catching-up-about-life sort of rendezvous.
“I’m alright; I don’t want a drink. What’s going on? Is everything alright?” Jayson got right down to it. “Does Lilith know you’re here right now?” Jayson asked.
“Pffft…fuck…” Tyler scoffed and turned away.
“What?” Jayson asked legitimately confused.
“I’m leaving her, Jay.”
Jayson was sure that he had heard his friend correctly, so he did not bother to ask “what?” the way people tend to do when they hear shocking news. He was not without shock, however. The look on his face said it all. In fact, the look said so much that he was sure that he saw a look of concerned surprise, but fake concern; the type of concern you are consciously putting on so that your friend is not suspicious that you, a good friend, have been having an affair with your pal’s wife, which Jayson was.
It was no secret that Tyler and Lilith were growing apart, especially after the other night in the Memorial Garden. It had started before that…
way
before that. The crack in the foundation of their marriage, or chasm, conveniently enough, was the Super Chasm. He was gung-ho about opening a fighting arena, but fighting to the death in most cases? This was just not him and he had made himself sick over the fact that he had spent blood money and that there were people out there who hated him for it. He had to come to grips with the fact that his wife was not eccentric, or misunderstood, but
evil
. That was the hardest realization of them all.
“I’m done…with all of it; Lilith and the Chasm. I’m done.”
“What do you mean you’re done? In two weeks we have the biggest match-up coming to the Chasm to
date
! Do you know how hard I had to break my balls to get this match together? Do you have any idea? These guys are going to fucking massacre each other,
and
in case you didn’t know, this fight
alone
is going to be enough to pay off the rest of the mortgage on that enormous fucking house you live in
in cash
, my friend! So I’m a little confused by what you mean when you say that you’re done.”
Jayson, never wanting to be at the epicenter of a “scene,” did his best to keep his voice down even though the vacancy of the bar made this impossible. It also did not go unnoticed by Tyler that while Jayson tried to talk his friend out of leaving the empir
e–
because that’s what it was quickly becomin
g–
he did not try to talk him into staying with Lilith. This had infuriated Tyler in a tangled and chaotic sort of way. He had emotionally closed himself off from Lilith after deciding to break away from her once and for all and this new life he had created for himself under her tutelage, while at the same time he had reacted to his inner-male instinct of detesting those who encroached on his “territory”. But, he could not possibly place
all
of the blame on his childhood friend, could he? After all, without stripping Jayson of his responsibility in this, Lilith was the one in the committed relationship, not Jayson, and Lilith
did
have that certain something about her, did she not? You know what I mean don’t you? That look. That look that, depending on her desire, could either enslave a man or frighten him to within an inch of his life…just ask Jim Colabza.
All at once, losing his drunken slur as some can when it really matters, “I can appreciate the work that you put into this next fight and all of the fights that came before it, but I’m done. This isn’t me. I used to be a cop and now I collect money for giving two animals a venue to literally kill each other. I’ve become a glorified cock-fighter, but worse because they’re human beings, not birds. And in the process, I’ve grown apart from my wife because I realized that in the end, we are just too different to reconcile.
And
I’ve also lost my parents because they’ve come to the realization about what a monster they have raised. My father told me that the only difference between me and Hitler was the amount of bodies we are responsible for. While I know that that’s an absurd comparison, I know that a part of him meant it, and I have never forgiven him for that. In fact, I cut off contact with
both
of my parents.” They sat in silence, trying not to look at each other but trying not to conspicuously look away either for close to a minute before Tyler finally continued. “So anyway, all of your hard work aside, tomorrow will be my last day.”
“Well, I guess you’re done then.” With all that needed to be said uncovered, Jayson got up and walked away from his lifelong friend.
Tyler gave two weak knocks on the wooden pub table and got up to head out to his car, sure to avoid awkward eye contact with the bartender, who was busy wiping down the bar and pretending that he was not eavesdropping. After all, the bartender was a big fan of the Chasm.
* * *
Jim headed back out into his commodious upstate backyard and eyed the Apollo tree. He took one step out his back door and the wind picked up immediately and howled that troubled, unnerving song once again that brought back the same chill that stabbed at Jim’s spine during his first trip out to the tree. This was the right thing, and he now knew it. It reminded him of a movie where nothing would be easy in pursuit of the protagonist doing the correct thing…the destined action…the swan song. Jim thought that if the unsettling howl of the wind and ensuing goose-bumps were the extent of his obstacles in pursuit of fulfilling his role, then not only could he live with that, but he considered himself way ahead of the game.
He closed the distance between himself and the Apollo tree and the wind grew stronger still. He could hear the impatient banging of shutters crashing over and over against a distant house. The wind was strong enough to blow over the Adirondack chair that he left out by the pond for his therapeutic sitting-sessions and send it barreling towards him, which Jim easily avoided. He had the feeling that whoever or whatever did not want him reestablishing contact with that tree could only do so much in the entities
physical
absence and was relying on these poltergeist-like tactics in order to deter him. For many people, the desire of an entity not wanting them to do something would be more than enough, but Jim felt a sense of love and a sense of duty when it came to his former student.
Jim reached the tree and stood gazing at it for a moment, psyching himself up for what his next move surely had to be: to touch it again. He recalled the barely tolerable jolt that the tree had given him before and needed to refortify as much of his remaining fearlessness as he could muster. The wind made one last feeble attempt to urge Jim to go back into his house and get a good night’s rest. This gust of wind even made him retreat a step or two, not because he was afraid, (although he was), but from the sheer force of the wind. This only made Jim more determined.
Finally, Jim made contact and an intensely wonderful white light joined his hand with the tree, making them one once again.
Chapter 23
Jayson drove back to the Chasm to relieve some stress. Not only was the Memorial Garden a location of serenity and reflection for Tyler, but for Jayson as well, unbeknownst to Tyler. He drove his brand new BMW Werewolf, the fastest car BMW had ever produced, like an angry teenager back to his reserved parking spot in the rear of the Chasm, feet from the staff entrance.