Blaze of Glory

Chapter 32

When the caddie reached the beach, Buckley screamed at the top of his lungs and fired. The arch of liquid sizzled off the side of the creature, leaving a ragged smoking scar. Still, it came. Buckley squeezed the trigger once again, this time the arch was shorter and died quickly. Nothing happened on his next squeeze. His last weapon was empty.

He sat straighter. He would not go gently into that good night. No way. Not after all this.

Still, as the creature approached, he couldn't help but fall back as he stared up and up at its gargantuan size. Buckley's arms came up reflexively protecting his face as the caddie hovered above him.

Then the great maw opened, and fell towards him.

But a clear bright note pierced the morning air, and like an impervious shield, halted the descent of the creature. The caddie hovered above him, spear-sized teeth filling a cavernous mouth.

Little Rashad had returned to Buckley's side, his horn pointed straight up into the maw of the monster. Buckley jerked at his leg, but it was still trapped.

"Boy. Get away!"

Little Rashad shook his head and continued playing until the note died. Taking a great breath, he renewed the note before the creature had a chance to react. And still the monster hovered transfixed above them.

"Don't do this, boy. Save yourself."

Again the boy shook his head, but this time he tapped his fingers depressing the valves. Buckley looked at them, then understood.

"You're showing me the secret note, aren't you?"

Little Rashad nodded and played the chorus of the Rocky theme song, the music filled with that note.

"Show me again."

The boy took another great breath, and returned to the single note that would keep Buckley alive.

Buckley nodded. "Yeah. I think I got it."

Little Rashad glanced wide-eyed at Buckley, who nodded again and held out his hand. As the boy’s note died this time, the caddie still transfixed by the sound, he passed his horn to Buckley.

Buckley snatched the horn to his lips, adjusted his fingers and blew. Not as clear and bright as the boy's, but it was the same note and had the same effect. The monster held back.

"I love you, Mr. Adamski."

Buckley looked at the boy who'd they'd all called Little Rashad because he was so small. But he was far from little now. He'd come back for Buckley. The boy had given Buckley a weapon to help him defend himself at the expense of the boy's own safety. It'd taken Buckley a lifetime to get that brave. If he'd had a son, he'd have wanted it to be Rashad.

Taking a breath, Buckley blew once more, trying to sustain the note, watching as the boy ran back to the pier and towards the launch that had landed and was even now boarding Grandma Riggs.

Buckley's note sputtered and died.

The caddie shook itself from its paralysis. Its maw began to descend.

Buckley blew again, but was an octave too low. Tightening his lips, he blew harder, this time finding the right note. The caddie stopped a mere ten feet from his head, once again transfixed by the note. The rattle of air going through the monster rippled the space above Buckley's head. They were at a stand-off. As long as Buckley could blow the note, he was safe.

In the distance, Buckley heard the sound of the outboard motor rev as the boat began to turn towards the cruise ship. He turned as far as he could to make sure the boat was indeed leaving.

The great red orb of the sun had risen from the deep blue of the Atlantic Ocean. The cruise liner was outlined by the sunrise like some angelic vessel. Just as he'd hoped, Little Rashad, Nikki, Sissy and Grandma Riggs motored towards it in a launch. Beneath the sound of the motor, Buckley could hear the sound of Grandma Riggs singing.

Great green gobs of greasy, grimy gopher guts,

Mutilated monkey meat, Chopped-up dirty birdies' feet.

Great green gobs of greasy, grimy gopher guts,

And me without a spoon.

Buckley returned his attention to the beast before him. He let his note die.

"I love you too, kid." He grinned, his mission complete. The words of his favorite poem flowed through his soul.

Do not go gently into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Or as MacHenry would say, Flame On!

With the last ounce of his strength, Buckley stuck his fist into the air, his middle finger pointing straight down the monster's gullet.

"I hope you fucking choke!"

Then the mouth snapped shut around him.