Children of the Underground

  “It’s good to see you too,” Michael replied. I could hear a tinge of sadness in his voice. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Sit down,” Jared told him, motioning toward the vacant bench across from his own. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” Michael turned and took a quick glance around the bar. He scanned the whole place in two turns of his head. His eyes rolled over me as I turned and pretended to watch the television. Then he sat down. Jared motioned for the waitress. My head began to throb. The entire bar was pulsating around me.

  When the waitress came back to their booth, Jared ordered another Manhattan. I half expected Michael to order an Irish Car Bomb. He ordered a regular bottled beer instead. The bar was about a third full now, but if I focused all my energy, I could still hear Michael and Jared talk. I tried not to do anything but listen. My vision went fuzzy; the world around me dissolved.

  “How have you been?” Michael asked Jared, as if he were making ordinary small talk.

  “Good,” Jared answered, a smile crossing his lips. “I’ve been good.”

  “So, you’re a big, important man now, huh?” Michael asked.

  Jared laughed. “It’s all relative, I guess.”

  Michael matched Jared’s laugh, almost parodying it. “So you’re saying you’re just a big, important man compared to me?”

  “Yeah,” Jared answered, the sarcasm scarcely evident in his voice. “That’s what I’m saying.” The laughter died slowly. “You know that’s not true, Michael. You’ve been doing some pretty good work too. Even when you were in St. Martin, everyone was following along. You’ve got to know how happy we all are to have you back.” Jared tipped his martini glass toward Michael. Michael clinked it with the edge of his beer bottle. “Now tell me it feels good to be back,” Jared said. It almost sounded like an order.

  “You know I love doing this,” Michael said. “It just took me a while to get my head on straight after . . .” Michael’s voice trailed off. He stared at his beer.

  “After what happened to Joe,” Jared finished for him after a pregnant pause.

  “Yeah,” Michael answered. He gave Jared a cold, hard stare. So much for small talk. I hated seeing Michael act friendly to Jared, but I also didn’t want him to blow it. We need this, I thought to myself, trying to send signals to Michael over the sounds coming from the jukebox.

  Jared placed his elbows on the table. He leaned forward, toward Michael, and spoke again, his voice lower now. He wasn’t whispering, but he was speaking softly enough that I couldn’t hear him anymore. I saw Michael nod without knowing what he was nodding about. I needed to know. Michael said something back to Jared. I couldn’t hear him either. The most important moment in my life was happening right next to me, and I had been reduced to less than a spectator. I looked around the bar to see if there was anywhere I could go where I might be able to hear them again. The booth next to theirs was still open. I could move there. I could tell the bartender that my friend was coming soon, and I could sit only inches from Michael and listen, but if I sat there, they’d stop talking. I knew that much. I looked over at their booth, risking looking almost directly at them. Behind the booth was a thick, black velvet curtain separating the bar from the bathroom doors. I was sure that I would be able to hear them from behind the curtain. They kept talking, and I was missing every vital word they spoke. I decided to go for it. I stood up, straightened my pant legs, and turned. I took the four or five steps past their booth toward the bathrooms as casually as I knew how. Then I slipped behind the curtain. Once behind the curtain, I opened and closed one of the bathroom doors so that it would sound like I’d gone inside. Instead of going inside, I backed into the curtain, almost pushing myself up against the back of Jared’s seat. An inch of velvet curtain separated me from the man who killed your father. I had my knife secured in the waistband of my pants and a gun in my purse. Revenge would have been easy.

  I could hear Michael’s voice again. “So, you think you did him a favor?” Michael asked. He sounded skeptical or confused—I couldn’t tell which. I stopped breathing and listened through the black curtain.

  “No,” Jared answered, his voice a decibel quieter than Michael’s. “You’re twisting my words. All I said was that if he was going to run, he might be better off. I don’t know.” Jared’s voice got even quieter now but I could still hear him. “I hate what I did to Joe, but I’m glad that it was me that did it and not some punk trying to make a name for himself. Either way, Joe was never going to make it.”

  Michael didn’t say anything. I wanted to peek around the curtain to see the expression on Michael’s face. Instead I stood as still as death. After a few minutes went past, I heard Jared’s voice again. “You have changed a bit, Michael,” Jared said. “You seem older. You’ve matured.” More uncomfortable silence came from Michael’s side of the table. “Can we change the subject?” Jared finally asked. “We should be celebrating. I’m all for talking about Joe, but let’s talk about the good things. Joe wouldn’t want us to be fighting, Michael.”

  “To Joe,” Michael’s voice said after a moment’s hesitation.

  “To Joe,” Jared’s voice echoed. I heard glass clink against glass, then more awkward silence. Every silent moment seemed an eternity. “Listen, Michael,” Jared said. “I’m buying tonight. I hope you’re up for another round or two.”

  I heard Michael’s laugh again, deep and bellowing. “I haven’t changed that much, Jared. I still don’t turn down free beer.”

  “Good to hear,” Jared said. “Order us another round. I’m going to hit the head.”

  It took me a second to realize what Jared meant. A second was almost all the time I had. Both of the bathroom doors were directly behind me. I was standing in, at most, fifteen square feet of space. I didn’t have time to lunge for one of the bathroom doors, open it, and slip inside before Jared saw me. Jared would have seen the door swing closed and would have known that someone had been standing behind the curtain, listening to him. I’d be trapped inside. I had only one option. As Jared pulled the curtain back to step through it, I backed into the folds of the curtain, pulling as much of the blackness around me as I could without being too obvious. The bar was already dark, and as I pulled the curtain around me, I was nearly swallowed by the darkness. I felt like I was swimming in it. I cursed my newfound blond hair, knowing it might give me away. I reached down and grabbed the handle of my knife. I couldn’t use the gun here. It would be too loud. We were too close. Clara’s people taught me how to use the knife, though. Two motions. First, slice the throat clean to prevent your victim from screaming. Then make a clean upward stab under the ribs and into the lungs. I almost couldn’t see anything through the slit in the curtain in front of me, but I saw Jared. He walked through the opening in the curtain. He looked nervous. Michael was making him nervous. I held my breath and didn’t move. Jared didn’t look up. My heart was beating in my chest so intensely that I worried that Jared would be able to hear it. He seemed to be walking in slow motion. If he lifted his head, if he even looked in my direction, I was ready to cut him. If it came down to him or me, it was not going to be me. I squeezed the handle of my knife. Jared reached for the doorknob to the bathroom. I pulled the knife up two inches from the lip of its sheath. Jared opened the bathroom door. He paused. Then he walked inside. He closed the door behind him, and I heard the water from the faucet begin to run.

  I exhaled silently. I had to get out. I didn’t have time to think about what I should do. I stepped out from the creases in the curtain and walked back to the bar. I didn’t look toward Michael. I didn’t dare. I went straight to the bar. I paid my tab and walked out the door.

  I felt the muscles in my chest relax when I stepped outside and breathed in the cool night air. I knew that I would miss the rest of their conversation. I knew that I would miss everything else that they said about Joe, about you, about who might know where you were. I had to live with that.
I had to trust Michael. I had no choice. I had almost blown it. I walked out of the bar and across the street. Trusting Michael didn’t mean that I had to trust Jared. That was a step too far. I’d seen what Jared was capable of. I spotted a small alley between the buildings on the other side of the street. I slipped into the darkness and waited for Jared and Michael to come out.

  I didn’t know how long I would have to wait. I assumed it would be a while, that they would have at least two or three more rounds, toasting to more things that I didn’t believe in, discussing how righteous ruining my life had been. So I was surprised when I saw Michael walk out of the bar only half an hour later with Jared in tow. When they first stepped out of the bar, I backed into the shadows. Jared took stock of the now-empty street around him. For the second time that night, he failed to see me hiding in front of him. Michael didn’t bother to look around. He came through the door and started walking. He was heading down toward the river. Jared caught up to him with a few quick strides and the two of them began walking together. They were still talking, leaning in toward each other like conspiring thieves. I waited until they were a full block away before stepping out of the darkness. Then I followed them. I stayed on the other side of the street so that I wouldn’t arouse their suspicions, but I made sure that I could always see them.

  They kept walking downhill toward the river. When I was sure that they couldn’t see me, I jogged across the street. I knew that there was a park there. It would be empty at this time of night. I didn’t understand why they were going there. It wasn’t safe. It would be a perfect place for Jared to turn on Michael. I wasn’t going to let that happen again. I pulled the gun out of my backpack and slipped my finger over the trigger. Everything was becoming darker. I kept following them, careful not to make a sound. As the air grew darker, I closed the distance between us so that I could watch Jared’s hands as he walked. Fortunately for him, he didn’t make any suspicious moves. His first suspicious move would have been his last.

  I was close enough to them now, dipping in and out of shadows as I walked, that I could have heard them talk, but they were quiet. The park in front of us was empty, free of witnesses. It was just Jared and Michael and me. When they got into the park, I heard Jared’s voice. When he started speaking, I slipped behind a tree and stopped moving. I was less than twenty feet from them. I tried to position myself behind Jared so that he would have to turn to see me.

  “We couldn’t talk in there—not about this,” Jared said to Michael, his voice slightly louder than a whisper.

  “I don’t get it,” Michael said. “We can sit there and talk about killing, talk about the War, but we can’t talk about this?”

  “You don’t understand.” I recognized Jared’s patronizing tone. That’s how he talked to your father before he killed him. I tightened the grip on my gun. “You think I picked that bar at random? They know me there. They know what I do. They’re part of it.”

  “So, you’re worried that if they hear you talking about this, they’ll start questioning your motives? They’ll start questioning your loyalty?” Michael asked.

  “No, dipshit,” Jared said. “I’m worried they’ll start questioning yours. There are people in this game that still aren’t ready to accept you back. I’m working on that, but it’s not a simple play. And, frankly, this conversation isn’t helping your case.”

  “Are you questioning my loyalty now?” Michael asked Jared.

  “Look, Michael. There was no way for me to know how you were going to react to the whole thing with Joe, and now you’re asking me where the kid is?” My mind flashed back to something Jared had said the night he stole you from me about what he’d do to you once you grew up. I’ll kill the evil little fucker myself. He’d meant those words. I know he meant them.

  “Just tell me where Joe’s kid is,” Michael demanded. I wanted to run through the darkness and kiss him.

  “Why?” Jared asked.

  Michael didn’t hesitate. “Because he’s all we have left of Joe. Don’t tell me that doesn’t mean something to you. I know you’re not a monster.”

  Jared lifted his hands in the air. I moved the gun in front of me, holding it there until I could see that his hands were empty. “But he’s one of Them now,” Jared said. “He’s on the other side.”

  “I don’t even know what that means,” Michael said. “If you can tell me what the fuck that means, then I’ll go home right now, and I will keep on killing without saying another word.”

  “Joe believed,” Jared said into the darkness. “That’s why he ran.”

  “I believe,” Michael replied, shaking his head. “Trust me, I believe. That’s part of the problem, I believe without understanding what I believe in.” Then there was silence. The only noise was the sound of the river. The dark water rolled past us, shimmering in the moonlight. I stood as still as possible, only partially hidden by the tree. No one spoke for three or four minutes.

  “I don’t know where he is,” Jared finally said, breaking the silence.

  “Don’t give me that shit.” It was Michael’s conversation now. He had all the power.

  “I can’t afford to lose another friend, Michael,” Jared said. “I don’t want to give you the tools to do something that you’ll regret.”

  “You think that I don’t already regret everything I’ve done since I was eighteen years old?”

  “Don’t say that,” Jared said.

  “Just tell me where the kid is. Give me this one thing, and when I’m done, I’ll play the good soldier until somebody puts me in a hole in the ground. I’ll stack the bodies so high, you won’t be able to see over them.”

  Jared shook his head. “I really don’t know where he is.”

  “Then who does?” Michael asked, the words coming out almost before Jared finished speaking. “I know you, Jared. I know how the game is played. I know that we don’t give people away to the other side without keeping track of where they are.”

  Jared laughed. “I keep telling them you’re not as dumb as they think you are,” he said. Jared breathed in a deep breath. “Even if you don’t end up regretting whatever it is you’re going to do, I’m pretty sure I will.” Jared reached down toward the belt of his jeans. I lifted my gun and aimed it at the back of Jared’s head. We were so close. I started to squeeze the trigger. Jared pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. It looked like a business card. I loosened my grip on the gun. “Do you have a pen?” Jared asked Michael. Michael was quick, handing Jared something as if he’d been ready for the question. “I don’t know what you’re going to do with this information. I don’t want to know. If anything happens, I’m saving myself and selling you out as a traitor.”

  “Fair enough,” Michael answered.

  “There’s a building in Tribeca, in New York. It’s not our building. It’s one of Theirs. I’m not going to tell you where we keep our information.” Jared wrote something down on the back of the business card. “You want to know where Joe’s kid is, take the information from Them.” He handed the card to Michael. Michael looked at it.

  “That’s the best you can do?” Michael asked.

  “That’s the best I’m going to do,” Jared answered, “and more than I should.”

  “What now?” Michael asked, holding the card in his hand.

  “I’ve got another assignment for you. Call in tomorrow when you’re sober and I’ll give you the details.”

  “You’re the one giving me my assignments now?” Michael asked.

  “Yeah,” Jared answered, “until they don’t consider you a special case anymore.”

  “When will that be?” Michael asked.

  “At this pace?” Jared laughed. I could hear the anger in Jared’s laugh. He stopped short of answering Michael’s question. “I wish I could stop you,” he said instead.

  “You can’t,” Michael cut him off. Michael held up the piece of paper in
his hand. I could see the whiteness of the paper reflected in the moonlight. My whole life was on that piece of paper. “Thank you, Jared,” Michael said. “I needed this.” He’d gotten what we’d come for. We didn’t need Jared anymore.

  “I’m getting soft in my old age,” Jared said. “Go home.”

  Michael didn’t bother to say good-bye. When Jared spoke, Michael turned away from him and started walking along the river toward the bridge to Virginia. I waited in the shadows, watching Jared. I knew he wasn’t above shooting his friends in the back. Jared didn’t move. He watched Michael walk away until his silhouette disappeared in the darkness.

  “Fuck,” I heard Jared whisper beneath his breath. “What did you just do, Jared?” he asked himself. Then he turned and started walking away. He’d taken only about ten steps before I decided what I was going to do. Michael was gone. I followed Jared. Even after everything I’d heard, the only words that kept echoing through my head were I’ll kill the evil little fucker myself.

  I kept the gun in my hand, holding it down near my waist. The path that Jared was walking down was empty except for him. I didn’t worry about hiding myself anymore. I started walking faster, making up the distance between the two of us. Jared started moving quickly now too. I don’t think he saw me, but he must have felt something behind him. I had to double my pace. Soon I closed the gap between us to little more than ten feet. Clara’s people taught me how to use the gun. Lesson number one was never aim a gun at someone you weren’t willing to shoot.

  It was clear now that he knew that I was following him. I kept watching his hand, watching to see if he would go for a weapon. If he did, I would have to move more quickly than I wanted to. I was worried that speed could lead to mistakes. I had to trust my training. Strips of moonlight shone through the trees. Jared stepped quickly between darkness and light. I wanted to reach him before he got out of the park, before he got somewhere where someone might try to help him. I kept my strides long and even and was able to close the gap between us until I was almost touching him.