He was surprised. He wasn’t much of a fighter anymore. He was lucky or they were impaired. And he was out of breath. He tried the manager’s trailer door but it was locked. So, tit for tat, he applied the flat end of the tire iron to the door and popped the lock. He peered inside.
Bruster appeared. He was fat and wore a wife-beater T-shirt. Why are they always fat? Blake asked himself. The biggest crook and dealer on the block was a lazy, fat blob. With a gun.
Blake put up his hands and backed away a little, though he still held the flashlight and the iron. “You can shoot me if you want but it’ll make your life miserable, I swear on the Virgin Mary. It’ll bring down the wrath of every Catholic cop in the state because I’m... I’m a priest. And all I want are the two gold coins and the other contents of that box.”
“Who the hell are you?” Bruster asked.
Blake straightened proudly. “Father Blake Smiley.”
The guy laughed. “Get outta here,” he said, reaching for the door.
Blake put the flashlight against it. “I want the stuff.”
“I don’t know about stuff. I found the coins. They’re not valuable,” Bruster said.
“Then I’ll make ’em valuable. I’ll buy ’em from you. I have to have them. They were blessed in Versailles. They’re holy. And your flunkies told me you have the coins. Now come on—let’s just deal.”
Bruster looked around Blake in time to see one guy limping away, one struggling to his feet and the third lying on the ground holding his knee and rocking side to side. “You did that? And you say you’re a priest? You’re no priest!”
“They send all priests to defensive tactics training now. You want a search warrant or do we deal for the coins? I told you, they’re holy!”
He didn’t put down the gun, but he did dig out two small gold coins from his pants pocket. “Now I’ve seen it all,” he muttered, holding the coins. “Two hundred bucks,” he said flatly.
“I don’t have two hundred bucks! I’m a priest!” Blake glanced over his shoulder, then slipped the flashlight under his arm and pulled forty dollars out of one pocket and another twenty out of the other. He tossed the money into the trailer. “Now, what are we gonna do? You stole them, after all. And I do still have a cell phone, if you don’t shoot me.”
“I wouldn’t mind shooting you,” he said. “Here.” He tossed the coins one at a time.
“I need a bag or something.”
“I don’t have a bag!” he shouted. “Get outta here!” He pulled the door closed.
Blake looked at the losers he’d just done battle with. They weren’t coming at him, but he had to keep an eye on them. That meant kneeling with his legs almost under the trailer and his weapons close at hand. He began scooping the remnants of the small teak box into his pockets along with the items on the ground, which may or may not have been the contents. He recognized the hospital wristbands and swatch, both very dirty. There was a cheap chain, perhaps once silver in color. A broken locket, a shred of paper, a cross. He shone his flashlight around for a rosary, but didn’t see it. He ran his hands through the dirt, coming up empty. There was some loose change—he scooped it up in case it had meaning. A hair clip, a flat silver ring, an old watchband. Finally satisfied that he’d looked enough, he went back to Lin Su’s trailer.
When he opened the door to go inside he was stopped by what he saw. Lin Su and Charlie were stuffing piles of clothes and other possessions in large trash bags. He had forgotten the duffels.
He started to tremble. He had a flashback and saw himself as a small boy, seven or eight years old, helping his mother stuff their meager belongings in plastic bags. That was how they moved from place to place and they moved all the time to keep ahead of dealers, pimps, junkies and social services. When he was thirteen and they came for him, removing him from his mother’s guardianship, he left with a bag of clothes. A small bag of clothes.
He shook himself. “Hey. We gotta get out of here fast. I mixed it up with a couple of your hoods and we gotta go. Now.”
Lin Su and Charlie looked at him. He knew what they saw. He was glistening with sweat even though the night was cold. He was panting a little—equal parts fatigue and nerves. He shook a little from some adrenaline and the flashback. He wondered if the flashbacks would ever go away. He held his flashlight and tire iron like weapons. He put them on the ground by the steps into the little trailer.
He stepped inside, grabbed a full bag and took it outside, throwing it in his car. He went back for another, then on his third trip Lin Su and Charlie each had a big bag to stuff in the backseat of her car.
“Charlie? Backpack and laptop?” he asked.
“In the car,” he said.
“I’m going to follow you, Lin Su. If you have any trouble, I’ll be right behind you.” He picked up his weapons and took them to the front seat of his car.
* * *
After Blake had pulled into the garage at his house, Lin Su backed into the drive for convenience’s sake. She wasn’t pulling four giant trash bags of clothing and miscellany into his house; she wasn’t planning to stay long. But she would move the bags he had into her trunk, leave the bags she and Charlie brought in the backseat, and they could pick through them for usable clothing. She was now very grateful for that last-minute shopping run for Charlie’s school supplies and jacket. She took her Target bags with her into the house.
Blake held the door for her to enter through the garage.
“Can you leave the garage door open for a little while? I have to get into some of those bags and find clothes for bed and the morning.”
“Sure,” he said. “I’ll leave my car keys on the kitchen counter so you can move your things from my car whenever you like. And you’re welcome to use the washer and dryer if necessary. There are clean linens in the loft bathroom and on the beds. The kitchen is all yours. There’s tea on the counter, drinks in the fridge, muffins, frozen yogurt, fruit. Have a snack. I’m going to get a shower but I’ll be awake awhile. It’s not very late—help yourself to the TV.”
“You won’t even know we’re here,” she said.
“I want to know you’re here,” he said. “I want to know you’re both here and no more of your belongings will be taken or destroyed or... Oh,” he said. He reached into the cupboard for a ceramic bowl and began emptying his pockets into it. The shards of teak and contents of the box were mixed with dirt. “The guy smashed it and I think most of the stuff was lost. The pieces of the box are too small to put it back together, but...”
She stepped closer. The dust from the dirt rose in a miniature cloud. She recognized the hospital wristbands, then heard the clink of two gold coins. She stepped closer. The swatch, filthy, joined the other detritus that comprised her treasures. She grabbed it, unfolding it, gently brushing it. It was going to take a miracle to restore its color, but it was whole.
She lifted her eyes to his. “This is what you were doing,” she said in a near whisper. “This is what got you in a fight.”
“Yeah. Well, I saw one of those guys, the ones that chased Charlie, and it pissed me off. I knew they’d done it.” He grunted and shook his head. “I’m psychic.”
“Mr. Smiley...”
“For the love of God!” he snapped. “Call me Blake!” He calmed himself. “Or Father Smiley. But no more Mr. Smiley!”
Her eyes were startled. “Father Smiley?” she asked.
“I told Bruster I was a priest so he’d give me back the coins. And not shoot me.”
“Awesome!” Charlie said from the back door. “He had a gun?”
“Yeah. I was pretty safe. He’s a dealer, you know. The head thug in the trailer park. He wasn’t going to shoot me—someone would call the police. If it had been anywhere else he might’ve, but not where he does business. Too risky for him.” He looked at Lin Su. “I probably didn’t get e
verything,” he said.
“You shouldn’t have risked it,” she said. “Thank you, it means the world to me, but you shouldn’t have risked it. What if something worse had happened to you?”
“Worse?” he said.
“You’re hurt. If you like, I could clean that up. You need an ice pack...”
“Nah,” he said, ducking away from her. “I’m fine. Get settled. Have tea. Eat something...”
Then he turned and went down the hall to his room.
* * *
Blake closed his door and turned on the shower, hot. He looked in the mirror and almost jumped back in surprise. His eye was swollen, his chin was cut, a lump was rising on his cheek and his nose had bled. It appeared he’d absently wiped it across his cheek. His shirt was torn in two places. And he’d never been aware of taking a single hit.
He’d blacked out. It had been a long time since that had happened.
It wasn’t that he didn’t remember anything. He could be so single-minded, so focused, the only important thing was his mission and survival. It had started when he was a kid—he could force himself to act without thinking. He’d be chased by some hood and he’d run and hide, then he’d catch his breath and realize he was two miles away. He could do that in a race—concentrate so hard on the task at hand he had no memory of the landscape. He’d know where each competitor was and what he had to do. It didn’t happen to him all the time, just when the stakes were high. He gave the credit to his discipline but it was probably more than that. One of his counselors when he was much younger said it was a form of PTSD. As long as he was functional, the therapist wasn’t too worried about it.
He stripped and got into the shower.
He’d been very stupid; he could’ve been hurt. He was always careful; he didn’t even ski. Triathlons were his career and he didn’t take unnecessary risks. But after seeing that destroyed little trailer, after hearing from Charlie what had been taken from Lin Su, after seeing that meth head ducking behind the building, he was utterly driven. He went after them, equal parts revenge and quest to get back that little box. He was incensed. Taking her useless little treasures had been so cruel. Men like them enjoyed being cruel.
Really, he didn’t think any of them had gotten off a shot at him, but his face bore the truth—he’d been hit at least three times. He’d been grabbed hard enough to tear his shirt. He was filthy as though he’d rolled around in the dirt. Maybe that came from scooping up the contents of that broken box? He’d never really know.
He put on a pair of sweats and a clean T-shirt and went into the kitchen. The bowl was gone and a dim light from the loft came down the stairs. There was a light over the stove left on. He checked the garage—the door was down.
He got ice for his swollen eye and turned on the TV. He put his feet up and did a little channel surfing, volume low. He hoped Charlie would hear and come downstairs. He’d like an update on how Lin Su was doing.
He didn’t see them again that night.
Six
Lin Su crept around like a thief; she didn’t want to disturb Blake. He’d looked as though he needed sleep. She kept shushing Charlie. She lifted a chair at the kitchen breakfast bar rather than sliding it and warned him to be extra quiet. She didn’t want to avail herself of Blake’s food but there seemed no other option unless she wanted to walk with Charlie to the diner. His first morning at a new school was now awkward enough.
And how did you spend your summer vacation, Charlie?
Well, let’s see, I was chased by drug dealers and landed in the hospital and then my buddy, who is an Ironman by the way, beat them up after they ransacked and vandalized our trailer. He got hurt, but he got back my mother’s little treasures...
“Are you nervous about the school?” she asked in a whisper.
“A little bit,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t expect to have a hard time. I have my schedule. Cell phones have to be off and computers aren’t allowed.”
“Are you allowed to turn the phone on at lunch or anything? To text me that it’s going well?”
“You’re going to have to be very brave and wait for me to come home,” he said. Then he grinned his goofy grin.
She found granola in a canister on the counter and yogurt in the refrigerator. There was fruit in a bowl, blueberries in the fridge. No milk. She mixed granola and fruit with the yogurt for Charlie. Since she was going that far, she decided to help herself to tea and a muffin. She sniffed the tea cans and voilà...he had green tea! She didn’t make a sound as she filled the kettle and got out dishes.
She felt a giggle come to her lips. This Ironman on a training diet with all the überhealthy food didn’t live like any guy she’d ever known, not that there were many. Neat as a pin, all organic, healthy and pristine food... Where were the beer and chips?
“Try not to crunch so loudly,” she whispered to Charlie.
He moved his mouth very slowly, mocking her. How could his chewing wake Blake?
Then she heard footsteps and after just a few of them, Blake appeared coming up the stairs from the basement. He was sweaty, a towel draped around his neck.
“Good morning,” he said.
“You’re awake!”
“I’ve been awake for ages. I was on the bike for over an hour.”
“You were right down those stairs? Don’t you grunt or pant or anything? Doesn’t the bike make noise? Didn’t you have any breakfast?” she asked. There were no dishes on the counter or in the sink.
He waggled a banana skin at her. “The bike is quiet, isn’t it? It better be.” He mopped his face with the towel. “I didn’t hear you, either.”
“I thought you were asleep and warned Charlie to be quiet.” She peered at him and then winced. “Ew,” she said. “I’m so, so sorry. If Charlie hadn’t called you...”
“If Charlie hadn’t called me, we don’t know what might’ve happened. Except, we both know you wouldn’t have your things back. Charlie and I have an understanding—if he needs me, he’ll call me. It would be all right for you to do the same.”
“Please, could we not mention this to my employer?” she asked softly.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, we have to be honest about this, Lin Su. These kind of secrets—they just don’t work. The fact is your house was broken into, damage was done, things were taken—it wasn’t your fault. You have a place to stay here for now. Be straightforward about that. It’s also not your fault I got a couple of bruises—that’s my doing. And it was really stupid of me to chase down those guys. I shouldn’t have. After seeing the mess they made I was so pissed off I did it without thinking.”
As usual, she was hiding all the wrong things. She didn’t want to talk about the fact that her treasures included a baby wristband, swatch of cloth, hair clip and two faux-gold coins given to her mother by her GI father. It made her feel like such a peasant.
“You’re right,” she said. “I’ll explain. Charlie, brush your teeth. I think Winnie will want to see you before you start your first day at a new school.”
“Can I leave my laptop upstairs? Or should I put it in the car?”
“Leave it upstairs,” Blake answered for her. “I’m going to swim, then run, but I should be around when school’s out. You won’t be separated from it any longer than necessary.”
“Thanks,” he said, jumping off his stool.
When he was gone, Lin Su began rinsing his dishes. “Mr.... Um, Blake,” she corrected. “I don’t expect you to understand this, it makes no sense, but when something goes wrong, like our trailer being vandalized like it was, it somehow makes me feel incompetent. Like a failure. As if I’m not capable of taking care of myself and my son. And Winnie is too generous. I guess she can afford to be, which is wonderful for her, especially now as she battles ALS. But just like it makes me feel like a failure when I c
an’t keep trouble from my door. I don’t like to take handouts.”
“I do understand, as a matter of fact. Your stubborn pride is familiar to me. But there are times—when the need is genuine and certainly not due to laziness or entitlement—you have to go with humility and gratitude, get on your feet and pay it forward. I’ve been there, Lin Su.”
She tilted her head. “You say things like that—that you understand being poor, that you’ve had your own hard times. Someday you’ll tell me what you mean by that.”
“Someday I will,” he said. “We actually have a lot in common even though I don’t have children. One of the things is this—we don’t get along all that well but I think we have a common mission and respect for each other. If I found myself suddenly homeless due to some misfortune I couldn’t control or prevent, you would offer to help me. You’d offer me a place to stay out of the cold and rain, no matter how little space you had to share. So let’s leave it at that. You’re no beggar. You had a bad day—I had extra room.”
We really should get along better than we do, she thought. “I’m very grateful,” she said. “Thank you. And if I get any more humble, I will be an ant.”
He grinned at that. It made him wince.
“You really got pummeled,” she said.
“Yeah,” he said, ducking away from her perusal. “I’m an idiot. Those guys are on meth. That means they have no brains and extraordinary strength. I knew before I chased the first guy what that could mean. I’m going to work on being smarter.”
“Do you get in many fights?” she asked.