He pressed the car to its limits. With every thought of not getting to his mother on time, came a harder press against the already floored gas peddle. The Porsche’s engine whined as it became tested in its full ability. The RPM’s raced high approaching its red line boundary as the vehicle’s tires spun peeling faster with each shift to a higher gear.

  The faster he drove the harder it was to control the car. Upon the slightest movement of the steering wheel the car would jump and overcompensate due to the extreme velocity. The entire light frame vibrated making the car feel as if it were about to implode.

  In the process, Mike grabbed his cell phone and tried to call his mother again. No answer.

  His heart raced and hands jittered nervously beneath the tight grip. When he arrived at the exit a hard right was made onto the exit ramp at the very last minute. Two trucks moved slowly in front of him. Mike was forced to maneuver his car between them.

  The car’s frame vibrated even more as it skipped horizontally across the hot pavement. The enormous amount of stress placed on the Porsche’s low profile tires was felt as well as heard. But the combined tension of the high velocity and hot pavement were too much for the tires. The rear passenger side tire exploded causing the car to swerve out of control.

  As the car tilted on the two remaining good tires Mike fought desperately to keep the car from flipping over. He grabbed the wheel with both hands as the car rocked hard then bounced forward down the exit. Sparks flew from the bare rim‘s contact with the street.

  As Mike’s vehicle sped down the exit ramp, a previously unseen obstruction blocked the lane. A large brown UPS truck crept slowly down the ramp like a dark wall of steel. He pressed hard on the break pedal.

  Without any formal training, Mike had his share of driving experiences and it came in handy today. He maneuvered the Porsche perfectly to slide just outside of the truck with two wheels balancing on the outside curb. Mike avoided the collision by mere inches but broke the passenger’s door side mirror as he slipped by the side.

  The ride had Mike’s body tense but it was far from over. The rims bounced down hard then smashed against the concrete curb forcing the car to tilt on the two driver side tires before slamming back down on all four wheels. The car leaped back on to the ramp gaining momentum as it raced on to the access road.

  Mike’s body felt virtually numb to his surroundings. He did notice that something flew out of his opened passenger side window in the process but he had no idea what. The approaching loud sirens also fell in distracted silence as well as the scrapping sound of the car’s bare rim. Everything fell away from his immediate awareness; his mind locked on getting to his mother’s apartment.

  Two blocks separated Mike from his mother’s apartments. Traffic lights located at the beginning of each of the remaining blocks managed to catch him each time. He passed through the first light just in time as the light teetered between yellow and red. By the time his car reached the second light, it was a solid red. Dammit!

  He ignored the red indication and pressed the gas pedal even harder. Sparks flew from the tireless rim making everyone around take notice. Mike unknowingly created total clearance to speed through any of the remaining lights as other cars stopped when they spotted the peculiar display of shooting sparks.

  The car swerved into the first empty parking space available at his mother’s apartments. The parking turned out to be a bad combination of a vertical misalignment mixed with a diagonal placement across the white parallel lines. Smoke from the shredded blown tire and crushed rim floated across the immediate area with a sickening burning scent. Mike swung the car door open then darted through the side gate to enter the complex.

  Luckily the gate was not locked. He dashed through the gate quickly then made his way down the sidewalk. Mike took the shortest route through his mother’s building which happened to have been the pool area. He jumped over a short gate then hurdled across a few pool side chairs to get across the section. Relaxing seniors sun bathing by the pool moved away or jumped to the side as Mike rushed past them.

  Mike’s heart raced faster the closer he got to her door. He leaped across the multiple stairs in three wide strides as he made his way to the second floor. His trembling hands shuffled through the multiple keys on his chain trying to find the correct one.

  “Come on come!!” he said to himself with words of frustration.

  “Thump! Thump! Thump!”

  He hammered the side of his fist against the door but the response was far too slow. He needed a quicker way to get inside so backed up then flung his body into the door a full force.

  He braced his body for the hard impact expecting to have to try again. The dead bolt was not connected so the door gave away easily causing the small section around the door’s latch to shatter. Momentum forced his body through the entry landing inside on the floor with a loud thud.

  Mike flipped his body off of his back gripping his sore shoulder. He ignored the pain but his breathing was rapid filled and with the panic devices ignited by the unknown. Anguish bore down on his soul like the heat on top of the sun soaking seniors by the pool.

  An uneasy feeling of helpless surfaced. Vulnerability never suited him but he felt exposed among the spirit of the ultimate antagonist. Echoes of despair bounced against the walls as he screamed out for his mother.

  He pushed his body up driven by pure will power. He waited to hear the sound of her voice making her way from somewhere in the apartment. He repeated the call out to her. His cry echoed through the empty room but became gripped and discarded by unsettling silence.

  His stone expression varied from how he felt inside. Anguish filled his internal being as he held on to bleak hope. He needed to hear her voice answer his cries. The seconds between calls out to her filled with desperate prayers.

  Stress induced headaches forced Mike’s vision to blur. The silent plea for her safety managed to overlook his physical pain. With that was a self imposed moment of disbelief. It can’t be; it just can not be. The onslaught of thoughts mixed with the stillness of the apartment. The silence ripped with an awkward tear.

  Click!

  The all too familiar metallic sound of the cocked pistol broke his thoughts as well as the silence of the apartment. A shadowed figure cloaked the entry with a foreboding presence as it emerged behind Mike filling the doorway.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Mike’s thoughts locked into a state of emptiness from the second he heard the click of the gun behind his head. Then he reflected on a deeper level. His thoughts sorted thorough the select preverbal moments that encompassed all of life. Times like the fatal accident in Spokane. Times like the one he found himself in at that very instant.

  Chaos altered into clarity as his mind absorbed the true meaning of being. Surprisingly the people he thought of in that moment were few in numbers. All of his accomplishments became instantly insignificant.

  A deep self awareness compressed in the small fraction of a surreal illumination. The thing that astounded Mike most was his calmness. In the wake of a pending untimely demise he embraced it with a sense of peace that he had never felt in his entire existence.

  The sensation overpowered him with the exception of a small element of guilt for all he would leave behind. He freely accepted a complimentary pass to the existence of no more worries, no more stress, and most of all, no more past. Mike closed his eyes and stretched out his arms but his eyes filled with tears.

  He did not feel the need to turn around and face the person behind him. His mind’s eye could visualize Garcia standing and projecting the long shadow that extended around him. That annoying smirk of triumph would be permanently painted across Garcia’s face. Yet Mike would give the all of victory to destiny.

  Fate placed his mighty finger on the opposite side of the scale then moved it down. Karma, Mike realized, was like Vegas. No matter how much you win in Vegas the money will eventually depart if you keep playing. Life has a way of making sure
the scales of karma eventually balance, all you have to do is keep on living.

  The natural process occurred as it has done for an eternity. Things always tend to balance out in the end. It was time for him to pay the cost for the death of Elvia Perez and her son, balance the scales.

  Dark calm wrapped in an eternity. The constraints of time slowed in a labored pace as he wondered how the sound of death would resonate. But whatever existed or didn’t exist in the after life was guess work. Would there even be an actual awareness of the senses post demise? I doubt it.

  He waited. Time persistently stretched the delay of oncoming non existence to tease his morbid curiosity. Mike could not stop pondering about how his impending demise would actually feel or not feel. Long seconds past with nothing but more pending fate weaved in stillness.

  The wait for the great unknown never arrived. No thunderous explosion erupted in his brain. His body tensed as he waited for the bullet to penetrate his scull and thrust his body forward into some spiritual tunnel.

  He lowered his hands then opened his eyes. The so often heard of light never surfaced, not on this day. On this day the only thing that arrived was more silence. Out of the stillness, commanding words shot out. “Don’t move. Drop to the floor and keep your hands where I can see them!!” The policeman’s harsh forceful voice made Mike smile. The words were as angelic as a singing angel.

  Mike followed the officer’s instructions to the letter. Once on the floor he exhaled slowly and allowed a silent prayer of thanks to ride across his breath. For whom the prayer was for he wasn’t sure. However he was positive of the lingering change as the scales tilted in a direction not beneficial to him.

  The policeman’s voice broke the silence but was only the fist to do so. The next sound forced an even wider smile across his face. The voice tore straight into Mike’s heart releasing emotions that even he never truly knew existed. Tears flowed from his eyes and his body shook with the vibrating emotions of absolute relief.

  “What on earth is going on here?!!” Mike’s mother’s voice said. She entered the doorway then stood next to him. “Michael get off of that floor! Why do you have that gun pointed at my son?!!”

  “This is your son ma’am?” the officer question.

  “Yes of course it is!” She fanned her frail hand at the officer. “Put that thing down. What is all of this about?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The officer lowered his weapon before placing it back inside of its holster. Mike’s mother refused to let the tense situation go, she wanted some answers.

  “I need you to tell me what is going on, now. Why in the world are you in my home with a gun aimed at my son?!”

  “Ma’am I thought that your son was putting people in danger. I spotted him racing away from the accident in Addison and chased his car from that point thinking that it was a hit and run situation. My police car failed to catch with the sports car since he was driving so fast.

  By the time I pulled up to the apartments here, your son had already gotten out and ran into your complex. After I saw him burst through your door, I didn’t know what to think.”

  Mike followed by explaining what started the wild ride to his mother’s apartment. “It’s ok Ma, he was just doing his job.”

  An explanation followed but Mike remained selective in what he said and most of all didn’t say. He left out certain details that would have been more complicated then assisting. In short he told the officer that he received a call that his mother’s apartment was being broken into. Although it was a very liberal evasion of the truth, it seemed to pacify everyone.

  The officer finally moved his hand away from his holstered weapon. “Well I mean if you thought that someone was breaking into your mother’s apartment I guess I can understand the wild driving that you were doing but still not the best way to handle that situation.”

  “Yeah I know,” Mike said.

  The sympathy still did not eliminate the officer from ripping of three citations from his pad. One was for speeding, one for reckless driving, and the last was for leaving the scene of an accident.

  He continued to write another ticket for breaking and entering but relented after a continuous bashing from Mike’s mother. The officer avoided eye contact with his mother’s piecing stare as he left the apartment. “Just be a little more careful next time Mr. Andrews,” he said.

  Now with only the two of them left, Mike still remained as evasive with his mother as he was with the officer. He retold his account of what happened but in a little more detail. Mike danced around the real reasons for his erratic behavior.

  “Mom, was anyone in your apartment today?”

  “No, not that I know of, why do you ask? What is going on Michael?”

  “Are you positive?”

  “Yes I’m pretty sure. I was here most of the day then took a walk over to the Jenkins place.” her forehead wrinkled in thought. “But that was just in the building next door.”

  “Did you lock your door?”

  “Heavens no, I never lock that door, except at night of course.”

  That explanation made everything a lot clearer for Mike. Although his mother tried to get more information, Mike guided the conversation to a different subject. He squirmed under the cynical eyes of his mother as he dodged questions.

  The smoke screen failed; she knew he was hiding something. After a short span of silence Mike released an inner sigh of relief when he assumed that she decided not to press the issue.

  He was wrong. Her eyes narrowed across the top of her silver framed glasses. “So what is really going on Michael David Andrews?”

  She waited for more details.

  The two coal black wisdom filled pupils were also youthful and vibrant. Her small frail frame moved quickly to as she circled the table with her eyes locked on Mike. Long straight silver hair rested on her head and as always, tightly pulled back into a tight bun. Her sweet disposition now edged into a fiery one.

  Worry and concern now filled those black pupils. He knew her better then anyone so her solid independence left little doubt that the concern was not for her, but for him. Like most mothers apprehension ruled her emotions when it came to her son. Even after Mike’s father passed he always knew that his mother would be fine but wondered how he was going to manage.

  Out of desperation to slide away from her perceptive stare he inserted a sure fire distraction. Mike rubbed on his flat stomach. “Mom I’m hungry, you got anything already cooked?”

  Her stern features subsided. Her mouth gapped open slightly before her small head tilted down. She peered over the top of her half moon shaped lenses. Her folded arms pulled apart then fell to her side as her hands settled on her small hips. “I bet you haven’t eaten all day!” she said.

  Bingo.

  Mike shrugged his shoulders putting an extra effort in his display of guilt. Inside however, he jumped for joy pleased that he was able to avoid discussing the true dilemma.

  With the more stressing conversation avoided he thought of going for another one. He really wanted to talk to her about staying with him for a while at his home but knew she would not go for that. That request would be a plea fallen on death ears so he didn’t even try. As he watched her fuss about the kitchen he found consolation in the fact that for now, she was safe.

  The meal turned out to be a culinary masterpiece. There was nothing like mom’s cooking because moms always cooked with love. She managed to put together a stack of mouth watering pasta, creamy mash potatoes, and perfectly steamed broccoli. He tried to pace himself but couldn’t and managed to eat longer and far more then he had planed.

  Mike leaned back in his chair feeling almost too stuffed to even move. As for his mother, she took full advantage of her captive audience to recite her endless spills of gossip and rants. He listened as his mother went on about the same family updates she just told him the day before. The talk went on about the cousins who were having money issues, the aunt who was back in the ho
spital, and the relatives who, in her opinion, never called. All of the topics were discussed as if she had not told him the exact same thing the week before.

  Unlike the other times when he would mentally check out, this time he listened to every word. Just a week before, he did his entire staff’s work schedule as she spoke to him on the phone about her neighbor’s new car. This time he paid attention welcoming the repetitive stories as if he was hearing them for the first time. He did this because he knew that it would have been what he missed the most if something would have happened to her.

  With a kiss placed on her cheek, he left his mother’s apartment. Mentally organizing the growing list of things he needed to get done proved to be impossible. The concern for pending issues caused him a great deal of worry but that wasn’t what worried him the most. What worried him more was the problems that had yet to come and were waiting somewhere in the distance, just out of sight.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The tip of the iceberg of issues just began to appear. More turmoil loomed and a wide base of tribulations remained just below the murky waters ready to break the surface. He could feel it. He needed to just tackle the problems the only way he knew how, one at a time and head on.

  As he made his way back to his car several thoughts surfaced. Many issues had to be considered and he had no idea how much time remained to get them all done since time now tittered on uneven ground.

  He unenthusiastically embraced an uncertain future. The next gun placed to his head could very well have Garcia on the other end. He looked at this as a second chance and this second prospect was an opportunity to align things for a better future existence. Although the future remained tentative, he elected to anchor the mindset of no tomorrow.

  Mike aligned his priorities. The first was to protect the very people he thought of when he heard the click of the pistol behind his head. After that things could fall in whatever place they would fit.

  Mike approached his car knowing that for now he needed to get back home. This simple task would not be easy. When he arrived at his car the first thing he noticed was the bent and broken rim. His beloved Porsche was in no shape to get him back home. The cracked handle hug loosely off of the door, the front fiberglass bumper was torn almost completely off, and the hood was crushed in front. As bad as is was, the condition of his prized possession barely registered.

 
Carl Henegan's Novels