Lower CoSMOS-Life of Lance Vier 9

I opened my arms and waited for Quan to get this done. Shell and Quan stared.

            “Go ahead, do it!”

            “Oh hell, they won’t pay us if you’re dead,” said Quan, “Get back in slave.”

            “Slave?”

            “He means the car,” Shell said.

            I realized there were few choices and with Pibb now wandering the outside of the cemetery, maybe the remedy here was to seek help from authorities. My head went to Elga and her insistence on saving Mother. I didn’t know what to do but bargain.

            “Conditional,” I said.

            “We hold the cards here,” Quan said.

            “Don’t you have any decency?” I said.

            “To?” Quan said.

            Shell turned to Quan to mouth something to him. I have been meaning to ask why.

            “She has got more credibility and respect in her navel than you have in your entire life. When have you given a shit about anything, old man? And here you are calling my dad a bastard. That is what I see. Some old bastard that has a machismo complex. Do you mid-lifers ever stop?” I said.

            “She?” Quan peered around the mausoleum.

            “Go, Lance,” Shell took her swords out and motioned her head toward the crypt’s exit. She faced Quan again. I seized the opportunity but wanted to stay and aid Shell.

            “Oh. No. Not you, boy. We’ve done this before, and I remember you getting a good shiner out of it. Step out of the way,” Quan said.

            “John, listen to me,” Shell said. Quan was still. He flipped his shotgun forward toward Shell, aiming it to fire.

            I made headway to the entrance of the cemetery, behind me the old man we believed was Francis Pibb walked the grounds, passing to stop at each headstone, metal plaque, and marker, showing appreciation; honoring each of their lives as if he were close friends with them. Unable to aid Pibb now, Pibb’s willingness to speak with me on the same level and his honesty endeared him to me. I could see that. I didn’t want to leave him to who knows what. It wasn’t like he forced anything on me. Maybe that was his game.

            “I’ll be back for you,” I said and passed Quan’s car/ship, desperate with the temptation to kick the tires or key the side of it. Battle-worn, doing so to Quan’s beloved vehicle only gave it more character. I did spit on it before walking away. But where? Swan Point is famous in the area, but in the eagerness to comply with the government regulation of “Stay at home because it is where you belong,” knowledge of city geography limited me. I started, but Shell stood behind me. I didn’t notice, she was that efficient.

            “It will be easier if Slave takes you there,” Shell said.

             I turned to her, she stood next to their vehicle.

            “I appreciate it. I did not think he would last long against you,” I said.

            “He never does,” Shell said. Quan walked with his head down, past the cemetery gates, rounding the back of his car, and opened the passenger side. I squinted, noticing Quan’s distraught face, and weakened state. Shell let him in.

            As they both entered the car, Shell started it. Pibb stayed on my mind. I had to look again. He wandered the cemetery with the night stealing his life away in a hypnotic trance. I don’t know what it was, but I had to get him out of it. It wasn’t right to allow him to suffer this way.

            I sat in the car and turned my neck to Quan, he stared out the window at nothing, but his face wasn’t the same.

            “I think I can walk,” Quan said.

            “John, not like this,” said Shell.

            “I love you, Shell, thank you. I need to go home and be with the kids for a little bit and I, we, can get back to work,” Quan said. Shell nodded. I didn’t want to ask about their age difference or romance, but I did know Shell was twelve at the time they met. No wonder the martial arts masters were suspicious.

            “It is not what you think, although I do love him too,” Shell said.

            “I am not judging, not now. I don’t know the whole story either,” I said to her.

            “There are people. Albeit scarce in this world and probably out here and everywhere, Lance, that would do anything for the life of another. He saved me and I owe my life to him,” said Shell, “Believe it or not there are still people who would abhor the idea of romantic involvement with anyone or anything too. We get along that way. However, I cannot leave Pibb in the state he is in.”

            “It is a better focus,” I said.

            I nodded and relinquished my thoughts on the subject of her and Quan. It brought my curiosity to the exchange Pibb had earlier with Shell. A romantic connection? It sounded like it to my ears. If I were not married, a crush would form over this amazing woman.

Quan removed his seat belt and laid across the back seat, covering his head with both arms. An alarm let Shell know. Silencing it, Shell turned on the radio starting a song familiar to my memory, a dreaded marching song that allowed the car to lift and drift away from the cemetery. I never noticed but it operated like mother, by music.

“We will be back for him,” Shell said.

“Any idea how to wake him up?” I said.

“You care for him though he gladly would have sold you in the cellar market,” Shell said.

“He knew my father, they were friends,” I said.

“I care for his ignorant foolish life too, Lance,” said Shell. “Gothia has taken residence in his heart and her life is one with his for now.”

There was a lot in that sentence. How? Why? So much power in that small body of Gothia Swartzbergman-Blaustein Horo Mankowitz.

We landed. I left the car not questioning where we ended up. The day was like a dream. A long, strange dream out of my mundane town. I missed my wife and now wanted nothing to do with the awareness of who I was. Shell exited the car, Quan, behind me.

“Get going, Lance,” Quan said, now standing straight and ever-present as he was before. There we were in front of the Tri-Angeles police station, district fifteen. Officers loitered at the entrance carousing, playing video games set up for the outside, betting on sports, and engaging in conversation. They greeted Quan. Shell’s face remained stoic, ignoring their leers at her. The offices were lit amply by the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. We came to a front desk with an automated check-in.

“Quan, Shell, victim,” Quan said. A ding came afterward, and a small horizontal chrome gate opened for us to go down the hallway, one that a person would easily be able to raise his leg up and over although I venture to guess they wouldn’t try.

The three of us walked down the hallway, placards and frames lined on either side, some hanging as if ready to fall to the ground. At the end was an open door. Around the door molding, my wife shot up from a chair and my hands came to my face blocking her slaps at me without end. Shell stepped in front of Quan and grabbed her arms to control her.

“I’m fine,” I said after anticipating the response from my wife.

“F—-r!” My wife shouted at me while sneering at Shell who tried to calm her down.

An older officer with a mullet and thick neatly trimmed eyebrows stood near Quan, exchanging information. Some of his hair was dyed blond or sprayed to keep highlights. He had to be past forty and still trying to fight age. His eyes opened and closed with exaggerated animated movement. Leaving the room, I would not see him again until further down in the days of my life.

“You need some alone time, Mrs. Vier?” Quan said.

“This is the perfect place. Do you have any weapons I can put both of us out of our misery?” she said.

“Boy?” Quan said.

Shell turned her attention away from my wife and to Quan.

“Give them your swords, let them hack it out. It is the only way true love can really tame itself,” Quan said, smirking for the first time.

Shell stood away from my wife and then glared at Quan as she exited, not relinquishing her swords. Quan leaned against the door frame and gazed at the both of us.

“I love a good slaughter,” said Quan. Shell pulled him away from the door. I turned to my wife. She began to sob.

“Where were you?!” she said.

“I told you a little about it,” I said.

“Not enough. I was worried. Do you know how much I had to pay to get them to bring you here? They don’t do this for free anymore. We are down three months for this year now,” she said.

I was genuinely confused at her response, caught up in the bounty hunters, the babies, Granny Sometimes, the biological mess the government made of the rest of the world, the strange people, Shell’s integrity, Quan’s mental instability, Pibb’s odd faithfulness to me, F*ck face, ShowBard, and Diablo Red to remember bounties are a normal part of life.

“You’re coming home before I leave your ass,” she said and grabbed my collar. I pulled her in and wrapped my arms around her. The worst part of this is, I didn’t think she loved me the way she did. I didn’t think it existed anymore.