The Wisdom of Evil (14 page)

“
But you passed the polygraph, Dad. How’d you do that?” Mickey asked, still intent on his driving, even with the soulful, life changing confession going on in the backseat; he kept control of the fast moving vehicle.

“My trainin',
I used it…I knew I’d be a suspect in Sean’s death, knew it before I even did it, and so I re-trained myself. The military teaches us how to pass them and to endure interrogation in the event of capture. I just had to remember and…practice beating the test.”

“
You do realize that what you did could be considered pre-meditated murder?” Mickey said softly.

“Yeah, I know that
, son. I hope you can forgive me for what I’ve done. I need you and your mom’s forgiveness more than I need forgiveness from God himself.”

A long moment of silence followed
.

“I’m glad y
ou killed him, Dad. I’m sorry if that makes me a bad person, but….well, I’m glad. As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing to forgive.”

Chapter 18

The clouds broke open just then
, the sound of thunder loud. The street was illuminated intermittently with zigzag lines of lightning. The gloomy weather, coupled with the bleak situation in the car, was depressing. They were fast approaching the Piscataqua Bridge now. Perhaps the weather would work in their favor, keeping the crime element off the bridge. It was wise to stay away from the iron rails in the storm. Hoping that was true, that no one would dare be foolhardy enough as to be on a steel rimmed bridge in a powerful thunderstorm, they rode the ramp up onto the bridge. All was quiet; Michael was fading in and out of consciousness now. Glory stroked his hair, pushing it away from his face. She’d found a cloth in the first aid kit and soaked it with cool water. She placed it over his forehead. The lightning flashed, illuminating the trunk of the car. Glory felt a sharp pain in her heart. Haley was in the trunk, lying in the dark in the cardboard coffin, waiting to go home where he’d be buried.

How much more can this family endure before it breaks
? Glory wondered, not for the first time. She peered again into the back view mirror and caught a glimpse of the fierce determination etched on Mickey’s face. She was certain of one thing—they were strong. Always had been and always would be, even during the times when they’d rather just lay down and pull the covers up over their heads, they got up and faced the challenges of the day, of their lives. Glory had done that very thing; took her numbing drugs and pulled the covers over her head. She’d also broke free of the drugs, with the help of her family and friends, and she’d gotten back up again and again to face the challenges of life. They’d all done that in tough times, both in their personal and public lives. Michael was responsible in large part for their strength, but Glory knew she’d always have his strength, as well as her own.

She now understood this was what Joan and Michael had been
telling her for years, that she was capable of profound love, that she was a good person. They’d seen this in her when she had not and had helped to shape her into the person she’d become. She’d carry all of their strength with her own forever. And if the Grim Reaper thought he could intimidate and hurt her without a fight, he was wrong! She was ready to fight back! Fight him and anyone else that threatened her or her family!

Through the muff
ling effects of the storm all around them, she heard Mickey say, “Shit, there’s a couple a guys on the bridge.”

Glory sat up straight, looking out the window through the heavy rain. Two figures standing stock still were right in the path of their car. One stood in the middle of one lane, the other in the second lane. There was no way around them. Not without at least grazing them or running them over.

“What should I do?” Mickey slowed the vehicle.

“
Just…keep goin,’ Mickey. Do not stop!” Glory shouted.

“I can’t
, Mom! What if they’re innocent? Dad?”

“Do…what your mother says, Micke
y. Keep…”

He never got to finish his sentence as
the windshield on the passenger side shattered. Shards of glass sprayed everywhere. They were being fired upon!

Mickey slammed on the brakes.

“Innocent…my ass.” Glory was angry. How dare these thugs take away what precious little time they had left with Michael?

“Glory, use my gun…” Michael dropped it in her hand, his own too weak to even hold its weight. “Mickey, roll down the windows…and take ‘em out, son. You and your
mom both. Do it…now.”

Mickey slid down the driver’s side window, took aim
, and fired. One of the crazies fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes. He wasn’t moving. Glory hoped against hope that the other one would run off. No such luck. Instead, another crazed man and a woman both appeared behind the car! The woman held an axe, no less! Dirty, unrecognizable faces peered in at them with hungry eyes. The woman jumped on the trunk, landing with a heavy thud. The axe came down on the back window. It held until the third blow. The window shattered inward, sounding like an explosion. The glass landed all over Michael.

Glory was pissed now! She’d originally wanted them to run off so she wouldn’t have to shoot anyone, unsure she could live with herself it she had to take a life. Not now. She brought the gun up with two hands, the way Michael had shown her, and pulled the trigger. She missed
. The woman was now crawling through the broken window, her arms mere inches above Michael’s head.

“Take
aim; steady the gun, and
then
fire.” She remembered Michael’s words when he’d taught her how to use a gun. Mickey went to the gun range often with his dad and had better command of his weapon than she.

With preternatural speed, Mickey shot the other man standing in the lane in front of them. The
one lying on the ground was slowly rising.

There was no way in hell Mickey could deal with those two and the woman in man in the back. Looking down at Michael, now slipping in and out of consciousness, the glittering shards of glass upon his body made Glory determined to do that which Michael would
have done for her. She had to protect him.

The wretched
woman pulled and clawed at Glory’s long hair and she screamed. Turning quickly, she was face to face with her. Glory felt no pity, no mercy for her, only an intense, blinding anger. How dare they intrude on them now? With her husband dying beside her, her beloved dog in his coffin in the trunk. Her anger made her calm and cold, just what she needed to do what had to be done. She shot the woman point blank in her left eye, killing her instantly. Glory brought her foot up and kicked her with all her might off the car.

The man she’d been with ran to her side. He appeared stunned
. Hesitating, now thinking better of approaching the police cruiser, he stopped.

Mickey opened the driver’s side door, stepped out
, and quickly put a bullet in both of the men’s heads. He jumped back in the car, put it in drive, and sped away. They were doing at least ninety miles an hour. Mickey wanted to clear the bridge as fast as he could.

Chapter 19

“Not much time left, Glory
,” Michael commented weakly.

H
er stomach lurched as the reality set in. No time to leave anything unspoken between them.

Michael was slowly but surely losing consciousness
. His eyes flickered; his breathing was almost non-existent; the distance of time between his conscious and unconscious states was drawing closer and closer together.

Finally,
pulling onto their road, there wasn’t another car in sight. That was the norm these days, to stay inside the house with the barred windows, alarms and guard dogs.

Glory was relieved when they finally parked in their driveway. A soon as they stopped, Mickey came around to help lift Michael and bring him inside.

They struggled under Michael’s weight, not that he was really that heavy, but he was in such a weakened state that he was virtually unable to support any of his weight himself. Mickey took him from her and she hurried up the small stone walkway, opened the doors, disabled the alarm, and went back to help Mickey get him up the stairs. The house was cold, dark and unwelcoming at first. Glory turned on the lamp in her and Michael’s bedroom. A softly muted light gave the room some warmth.

Knowing time was of the essence, i
n a short few minutes, they’d settled Michael in bed. Now, she could properly tend to his wounds.

Things appeared a little brighter now
that they were at home. Glory allowed herself a small glimmer of hope. Perhaps they’d get a miracle. Although she entertained no notions of divine intervention, she felt that through an act of sheer will, she could fix Michael.

She
knelt down and opened Michael’s shirt. There was an enormous amount of blood. It had soaked completely through his entire shirt and gauze wrappings. The shirt looked as if its true color was crimson red, the color of old brick instead of pale blue.

By keeping busy tending to Michael, she could distract herself from the pain of thinking. Once again, she found an old, familiar pattern emerge
—the denial of the facts as they really were. While she was cleaning the wound, getting it ready to redress, Michal grabbed hold of her hand and stopped her.

“No, Glory. Don’t bother
. It won’t make a difference. We both know it. Can you just…sit with me an’ hold my hand?”

“I need to clean this up; you lost a lot of blood. I
have to…”

“No.”
His eyes searched her own. In his gaze, Glory saw his sorrow; he was going to leave them. The choice to stay or leave wasn’t either of theirs to make.

“You
’ll never be alone, Glory, remember that. I will
always
watch over you. I know that you don’t believe in God or heaven or angels or any of that stuff, but I
swear
to you, if there’s a way, I will
be
there. You just need to…look for me with your
heart,
and you’ll find me, I promise.” He tightened his grip on her hand. She saw her teardrops accumulating slowly on the back of his hand as she wept in silence. If she could, she’d never let go of his hand.

“Do you believe me, Glory?”

“Yes…I do.” She put his hand to her cheek, holding it there, closing her eyes, smelling his scent, the warmth of his skin.

“Please…don’t…leave…me, Michael. I can’t...imagine life without you here.”

She heard herself utter these useless words, knowing full well that the time for denial was over.

“I don’t want you to live with this memory and forget all the good
things we shared. I want you to live in the memory of us and to…honor that memory always. Keep it as our treasure locked away in a secret chamber in your heart where nothin’ on this earth can taint it. Promise me that you’ll go on, that you won’t harden your heart to life because of what’s happened.”

“My heart
is already hardened, Michael. I don’t know if I remember
how
to love fully anymore…” She allowed her words to trail off. She couldn’t think anymore; it hurt to think.

“
No, you’re wrong, Glory. You are more loving than most of the people I’ve ever known. But
you
need to believe it. You never saw what everyone else sees. You’re a loving and wonderful woman. A great wife and mother. That’s why everyone comes to you. Because you’re the very heart of this family, you always have been. You still have a son, remember that. Take care of him.”

“I….I…love you
, Michael,” she said in quiet acceptance.

“I love you to
o, Glory.”

“Dad!” Mickey shouted as he watched his father’s body settling down, his features becoming peaceful
, as if his soul accepted it before his body surrendered to it. He was going to a better place where the calm of peace, which had eluded him since Olivia’s death, could be found.

“Love you…son. Proud…of…you. Take care of your…mother
.”

For a brief moment, his eyes
fluttered, then opened wide, and there was fear and horror in them. “I’m going to…hell. I killed someone; killed…Sean and then I… burdened you both with the truth of it. I should never have done it, should have…walked away. Shouldn’t have told you just to ease my own conscience, but we never had secrets did we, Glory?”

She
shook her head. But she knew that was untrue; they’d held some secrets, maybe not many, but the ones they kept were huge. But this one, Michael’s death bed confession, was the most horrible of them all.

“
Do you think I’m going to hell? Do you think God will forgive me, let me… see Olivia again in heaven? I love…you. Can you still? Do you love…?” The sentence went unfinished.

She
held his hand so firmly it should’ve hurt, but he was beyond all physical pain now.

“No, Michael you’re not going to
hell and…yes, I do love you,” she said soothingly as his hand slackened and became limp in hers. The room was silent save for the sound of the rain pounding monotonously on the roof of their home. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him, wanting to look upon him forever and never let him go. Her only consolation was that he looked…at peace.

Somewhere in the distance, almost beyond her range of hearing
, she heard the breath of a whisper and the evil laughter she knew so well. The voice said one word only. And that word was, “Checkmate.”

The
Reaper had stripped her of most everything she’d loved. She wanted to scream, to call him out and kill him!

As she got up from the bed,
she saw something fall out of Michael’s pocket, something small and shimmery. Glory retrieved it from the bed cover, gasping in disbelief as she did. In her hand was the long forgotten gold crucifix she’d put in her jewelry box long ago.

Perhaps this was his final message to her. That there was more to life and death than human beings c
ould see with their narrow view; she needed to have faith in
something
. She put the chain around her neck. Not because she suddenly believed in God again, but to honor Michael. The tiny crucifix would make her think of him each time her fingers brushed upon it.

Bowing their heads
, she and Mickey said a prayer, the first prayer she’d said in many years. Although she did not believe, Michael
did,
and in the end, she hoped he was right and she was wrong. That there was in fact something or someone out there. She couldn’t fathom that a person as wonderful as Michael would go nowhere except to the cold, cold ground.

She
marked the date and time of death in her mind’s calendar. It was exactly one week before their twenty-first wedding anniversary.