Off the Road - 49

a jazz novel on a typewriter

3

Sal had a problem of crime and punishment: he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Instead of crashing through the high grass and finding more high grass, which is what he expected, you found instead high concrete and beyond that a beach. Then he realized that Wonderland was not a place he wanted to get out but instead, it was down on the Suffolk Downs Station which was one behind where he was. It was like leading a double life: he needed to get back one stop, so he immediately turned back and headed over to the station getting ready to board the bus. In fact, he ran as if he could not get away. But he just needed it to the next train when he saw another one going outbound and on it was Dean because of Dean’s close where signature. Dean had not looked back to the inbound train and had not checked his phone to make sure that Sal was still there. Dean was a little bit like the boys of summer waiting for his turn at bat with a hard glass: broken and bent in a most particular way.

The train which Sal was on slid its doors closed and went off to its next station but leaving its occupant stressed and worried. There were still a number of people on the train, and he jostled to get a place right beside the door even though a tall man crowded up and wanted Sal’s space for himself. Bostonians are known to be rude and, in some cases, vengeful because they want the best of everything even down to spaces in front of doors. Then the doors opened at Suffolk Downs and Sal raced out of the as if the video would kill him if snapped a picture on the television cameras. Sal knew that I knew Dean must have checked his phone and seen that his quarry had flown the coup, only this time in a train. He complimented Dean in one respect: taking a car would have been too visible and Dean knew that public transportation was a better option. Sal just hoped that the next step would elude Dean, that there was a trap.

Then he crossed Bennington Street and disappeared into the real grass because he knew that there was a large patch, and he could lay the predator and make him the prey. His sweat was visible even though the October morning was not exactly warm but wasn’t as cool as the dawn was.

Once he was part of the sod as it became a meadow, he stopped running and grew quiet like the walk like an Egyptian.

Within the greenery, or perhaps yellow, he waited though he put on his yellow submarine mask because he knew that eventually, Dean would be there with weapons blazing. But what Dean would be surprised by is that he had dropped his iPhone slightly to the left and then took considerable care to get cover. And he did not have to wait long because the next train arrived and, in a few seconds, Dean came out but kept his weapon inside his coat because obviously he did not want to be seen quite yet. Dean’s walk was precise and insightful how he dodged the rocks and a pothole to make sure he was completely silent in his movements. But his face was still serving as if there was no increase in his heart rate because of the steadiness of his hands. he crossed the road and plunged into the field and this time he had his iPhone out and was searching for a glimpse of the thing he wanted to devour. Finally, some motion occurred on his face: his lips were open and a bit of the tongue was out. Then he did not see but shot anyway and as promised he used a silencer so the muffle from the weapon was drowned out by the noise.

But Dean knew that no flesh had been gouged and he looked for what was going on. Sal was hesitant because this was the first time that he had taken action, and his heart stopped and his nose froze. But then his brain forced his body to take one step and then the other in an orderly fashion and grabbed Dean from behind with a piano wire. There was a struggle but not by much, then the two of them flashed on the sand below the cement wall so that neither of them could be seen and even being heard was a challenge because of the driving of the trucks and vehicles on Bennington Street.

“Now you are going to listen because I know that I am nowhere near as strong as you are Dean, but the wire should make a difference because I only need to snap, and your life will not be long in draining away. Nod if can understand me.”

Dean nodded.

“I took the time to mail out to a number of people what would happen to me and various pictures of you and Alice from my iPhone. This will mean that if anything happens to me or to Faith it will not be too much of a stretch to place one and one together and bring to an end your miserable existence and broadcast it far and wide even to Mexican radio. Nod if you can understand me.”

Dean nodded.

“I am not going to kill you, but you probably know that, and you have even calculated that into your equation. So, I don’t deny that that option is off the table. But many of the people who have been informed are not quite so squeamish and would happily finish off your pathetic life span. Not if you can understand me.”

Dean nodded.

“So, if you will leave mine alone and stay on the other coast, I promise that I will not touch you or Alice. I rather suspect that Alice finds you to be the one for her; the two of you being so much alike in dignity. I have your weapon and will search for others, then we will go to the airport and send you on your way. I borrowed the money to send you back. Nod if can understand me”

Dean nodded with vigor.

And that is almost the end, because the struggle had earned out the pleasure and happiness of assassination.

After Dean left there was peace on the sea of tranquility.