The Serpent's Kiss

21

Michael Church and Ray Moretti were rattling down Crooks Road in Michael’s old Honda Civic, Michael behind the wheel. It was lunchtime and they were headed for a McDonald’s drive-thru. Ray, short, swarthy with dark hair cropped close to his scalp, was jamming his finger down on the radio channel selector with his left hand, while lighting up a joint with his right. He stopped for a moment as a radio announcer talked about The Serpent.

“…there has been a second sarin gas attack, this time at Wayne State University. The attack took place in a second-floor auditorium at Scott Hall. So far, 43 students and a professor have been reported dead. Twenty-one students—”

Ray punched the seek button again. This time a rap tune by J Slim came up. “Hey, man,” Ray said. “I can’t wait ‘til tonight. Wanna hit?” He held up the joint for Michael. Michael shook his head and pointed to the radio.

“Go back to that news story.”

“What, you think your mommy’s working that?”

Michael knew she was. And that scared him. He’d never admit it to anybody. Not his mom. Especially not to Ray. He worried about her. His father had been killed in a terrorist bombing while working at the embassy in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. That had been August 1998 and his father had worked for the State Department. Michael didn’t remember his father that well — he’d only been a little kid-and really didn’t remember Tanzania at all. What he remembered was a sense of loss and how his mother had changed afterwards. And he wouldn’t admit it to anybody, but he no longer really remembered what his father looked like. His mother didn’t keep any photographs around. He knew she hadn’t thrown them away. But she had put them away and stored them out of sight… out of mind.

A part him, right now, was pleased that his mom was tied up in this investigation. It meant she probably wouldn’t be home tonight. And that meant he could go to the J Slim concert and she’d never know about it.

He smiled at that thought and reached out for the joint. “Yeah,” he said. “Gimme that. Mom’s probably working this case. The Serpent. What an asshole.”

“Yeah. The Serpent. This guy watches too much TV.”

Michael giggled. “Maybe he’s hoping he’ll get caught and they’ll make a made-for-TV movie about him.” They both burst into laughter.

Then Michael’s cell phone rang. He snagged it, clicked it on, not glancing at the caller ID function. “Yo!” he said.

“Michael! It’s Mom.”

For a wild, panicky moment Michael thought she knew he was smoking a joint with Ray. His heart thumped, then he said, “Yeah?”

“Honey, I have an emergency. I need your car.”

“What?”

“I need you to drive down into the city and pick me up.”

“What?” He was stupefied. He felt like he had lost 30 IQ points in response to her statement. “I don’t get it.”

“Michael. Listen closely. Are you in your car? Are you going to lunch?”

He glanced nervously at the joint Ray was holding to his lips. “Y-yeah.”

“Then keep right on going. I’m going to walk to the Fisher Building. Do you know where that is? It’s where we saw ‘Cats.’ Remember?”

“Yeah.” What a stupid play that had been.

“It’s on West Grand Boulevard. Get on I-75 and go south to—”

”I know where it is,” he said. “But I’ve got Ray with me—”

”Fine. Bring him along. Come get me.”

“Mom—”

”Michael, this is an emergency. Just do it. Now. Can I count on you?”

He clutched the phone. Then, “Yes.”

“See you soon.”

After she clicked off, Michael stared at the cellular phone. He looked at Ray, toking his brains out in the passenger seat. Michael rolled down his window, reached over and snatched the roach from Ray’s fingers and flung it out into space.

“Hey! What the fuck?”

“We’ve got to go pick up my mother. Roll your window down. Roll your goddamned window down. We’ve got to air this piece of shit out.”

“Are you fuckin’ nuts? Your mom’s FBI. She’ll bust my ass. Stop the car.”

“Ray—”

”Stop the motherfuckin’ car. Are you nuts! What’s the matter with you? Where’s your mom’s car?”

“I don’t know.” Michael gripped the steering wheel, feeling oddly exhilarated at the same time he felt claws of fear tear at his spine. His mom had said it was an emergency. She needed him.

“Stop the car. Dammit, Mike! Stop the fuckin’ car.”

Michael pulled onto the shoulder of Crooks Road. Ray practically exploded out of the car.

“What are you gonna do?” Michael asked, leaning down so he could look at Ray.

“Hitchhike. Walk. I don’t fuckin’ know. You’ve lost your mind. Fuck off, man. What’s going on?”

Michael shrugged. “Hey, man—”

”Get the hell out of here, man. Go! Go rescue your mommy.”

Michael swallowed. “Hey, Ray!”

“What?”

“Fuck you, too!” He stepped on the gas, spraying gravel behind him, leaving Ray in his dust.