Blaze of Glory

CHAPTER 28

MacHenry rolled a wheel he'd found beside a nearby wreck over to where Gert had fallen. With his help, she managed to sit on the edge of the rubber.

"Jesus, but my feet hurt," she whimpered. "Help me with my boots, baby."

Gert began to unloosen the knots on the work boots, as MacHenry knelt in front of her. He watched as each lace came free, apprehension carving his frown.

From the other side of the street Buckley whispered, "Get ready, Grandma. We’re leaving here in a few minutes."

Another Maggie popped free from Buckley’s scalp. He snatched the nasty thing and flicked it into the open window of a VW Bug. They were coming one right after the other now. It was only a matter of time before he went crazy. He had to watch himself. He'd come along to help everyone. Becoming a liability would ruin it all.

Sissy approached. Glancing at the maggie residue on the sidewalk beside him, she shook her head. "How long?" she asked.

"Any second now," Buckley murmured. He sniffed deeply. "I can smell it, salvation. We're almost there, but it might as well be a million miles away."

"What you most need is sometimes the most dangerous thing of all."

Buckley ignored the remark. "What I'd give just to bathe in the ocean. Like to see how the maggies deal with that."

"I saw this show once," Sissy began, her eyes focusing on a maggie that popped and fell from his nose. "It seemed like so long ago, like it was someone else's memory." She paused and gazed towards Gert and MacHenry. "In the show, there were dozens of beluga whales trapped in the arctic ice after a quick winter creep. Taking turns, they’d swim to the surface to breathe. Their continuous motion was all that kept the water from freezing around them. They could go without food for a few months, but they had to breathe. They always had to breathe."

"So all they had to do was wait for the ice to melt," Buckley said, describing the obvious solution. "How long did they have to keep doing it?"

Sissy held up her hand and shook her head as sadness crept into her eyes. "Except they had a problem. It could have been just like you said. They could have just taken turns and risen to the surface, their body's feeding upon their own stores of fat to survive. But that didn't happen. There was a polar bear crouched outside the hole, you see, and it swiped one of its massive claws at each whale as it surfaced to breathe."

Buckley blanched. "Jesus."

"This went on day after day after day, the water pink with beluga blood. When one finally weakened enough to be caught, the beast would feed. Then it would rest for awhile, allowing the beluga a false sense of hope. Before long, it would return to making the pink water again."

"The pink water," Buckley repeated.

"Yeah."

"They had nowhere else to go. They were doomed from the minute the ice creeped over them, they just didn't know it."

"And you know?" Sissy said. "I feel like a beluga whale and I don’t want to die that way."

"Beluga. That’s where they get caviar from, right?"

Sissy nodded. "The real expensive kind. They were very rare."

"Like you, girl. You’re as rare as they come."

Sissy glared first at Buckley, then at the ground. "I'm nothing special."

"I remember when I first met you," Buckley chuckled. "You’ve changed."

"I’m done changing. Now, I’m just tired. I want to rest. I want to get to the ocean so we can escape."

"Even if it is just a false sense of hope?"

"Even if," Sissy said. "I guess it's the beluga in all of us."

Buckley put a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe it won’t come to that."

Now it was Sissy's turn to laugh. "It always comes to that. What was it you mentioned earlier? It’s survival of the fittest and we’re no longer the fittest."

Buckley shook his head in wonder. "I can’t get over how much you’ve grown. Your father would be proud of you. I'm definitely proud of you. If I had a daughter, I’d wish she was just like you."

For the first time during the entire conversation, Sissy made eye contact with Buckley. A mix of joy and sadness painted her features as she battled with the inevitability of death and the contentment of sudden acceptance as a mature person. Then she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. The action surprised both of them.

Buckley wiped at it, then turned to Gert and MacHenry. "Come on you two, time to get a move on."

"Just give us a few," MacHenry yelled back. "The girl’s feet here are hurting and she needs a little-Holy Mother of God!"

MacHenry, who’d been squatting down in order to help Gert unlace her boots, fell backwards as he struggled to escape the pool of blood that spilled free. There was no question why her feet were hurting her for in the expanding pool of blood were at least twenty of the nasty little creatures wriggling like mobile rice.

Gert screamed, her voice shattering octaves as it rose in both pitch and volume. MacHenry recovered from his fear quickly and tore off his flannel shirt, leaving only a white T-shirt beneath. His baritone NO NO NO underscored her soprano as he wiped viciously at the wounds.

Little Rashad stared hard at the scene. His small eyes wide with yet another death.

Sissy sat on the far curb, shielding Nikki from the sight.

"Here we go, Grandma. Hang on." Buckley lurched to his feet. Grasping Little Rashad’s hand, he tugged him over to where Sissy had gone to comfort Nikki. They all stared at the ground, trying hard to ignore the screams from the couple in the middle of the street. There was nothing they could do other than giving the couple their intimacy.

"Think good thoughts, boy," Buckley said, scruffing the boy's head. "Think good thoughts."

The screams and shouts of NO faded after a few more moments. Ignoring the possibility of infection, MacHenry embraced Gert, holding her head to his chest. He stroked her cheek as he murmured solemn promises to her.

"Got that horn ready, kid?" Buckley asked.

"Always." Little Rashad pulled it from where it hung on the rope. He reflexively cleared the spit from the spit valve.

Nikki stared wide eyed. "What’s he gonna do?"

"Just watch," Sissy replied. "It’s magic."

"What do you think you’re gonna play?" Nikki asked.

"Rocky."

Buckley nodded as if he'd known all along. "You like that song, huh?"

"Nobody thought Rocky had a chance."

"Man fought a good fight with that other guy," Sissy said.

"I saw that on TV," Nikki said. "What was his name?"

"Apollo Creed," Little Rashad said.

"Yeah. Apollo Creed," Buckley murmured. "Carl Weather's played him in the movie. Saw him in Action Jackson, too."

"Wasn't he in Star Wars?" Sissy asked.

"No. That was the other black guy," Buckley grinned. "Billy Dee Williams. You know, that fight between Apollo Creed and Rocky was probably the best fight anyone had ever seen. From the opening bell to the end, I was on the edge of my seat."

"In the end, didn't Rocky lose?" Nikki asked.

Buckley, Sissy and Little Rashad glared at the young girl, whose impertinent need to be accurate had shattered the morale they were trying to construct.

"He did," Little Rashad said. "But he kicked the other guy's ass in the sequel."