Page 40 of Last First Time
The man on my left finally speaks. “Cartoon ducks? Really?”
“Would you prefer the Powerpuff Girls? I feel like you might be a perfect Bubbles.” I maintain eye contact with Mister Left until he finally cracks a smile. He looks like he hasn’t smiled in the last decade, ever since they made him kill his best friend at the secret federal training camp.
“Actually, I’m much more of a Buttercup at heart.” He flexes his arms and his suit jacket almost bursts under the strain.
I cackle. “Nice try, pretty boy. Even I can tell you’re the airhead of this group.” At that, the entire car full of burly men all lose it. Well, at least we’re going to have a good laugh together before whatever terrible thing happens next.
It feels like we’ve been driving forever. I can’t exactly check my phone or watch, as both are in the little envelope tucked snugly up to Mister Left’s fifteen pack of abs, but I’ll bet we have been in the vehicle for at least three years. Or three hours. One of those two.
The good news is if these guys wanted to murder me in a desolate field somewhere, they would probably have already done that. There’s really no point to making an extended road trip for murder.
Instead, we spent the drive making polite small talk about the marshals. They obviously know who I am, and I’m still handcuffed and disgraced, so it makes more sense to me to talk about them rather than my own current, tragic existence.
Huey/Bubbles is a new dad. He shows me approximately twelve thousand pictures of his kid. I can’t really tell if his baby is a boy or a girl, but it looks mostly like Eisenhower in tiny pajamas with little ducks all over them. He’s so excited that I am more than happy to listen to him go on and on about fatherhood.
Plus, his fatherhood speech does give me a quick vision of what my kids with Kar would look like. They’ll have her dark hair, my eyes. Assuming she might be willing to talk to me someday, let alone possibly make babies with me.
Where has she gone? I briefly consider whether she was willing to go back home to her family, but she hates everything about their way of life. She doesn’t talk to them or about them often, and I know that part of the reason she’d re-branded herself as K.T. was to get away from being the flower child of destiny, Karisma, that they’d wanted her to be.
The marshal on my left gives me a little nudge. “Hey, we’re almost there. Wake up.”
“I’m not asleep, I promise. I’ve had a really shit twenty-four hours or so, but I’m still awake and paying attention.” I sigh.
The heavily muscled men on either side of me have one of those eye conversations that I am not privy to, but it’s easy enough to figure out what they’re thinking.
“Yeah, I know it’s not getting better when we get wherever we’re going.” I shake my head. “Well, maybe it’ll be a really shit forty-eight hours then. Or week. Whatever.”
At long last, the sedan enters a different underground parking garage. I can tell from the general level of traffic and mayhem that we are in the capital, which is where the federal courthouse is located. Once I saw that I was being released into custody of the federal marshals, I presumed we were headed to the federal courthouse. Looks like I’m getting a second set of charges piled on top of the pending state charges. Great.
We drive farther down into the dark parking structure. “Do I get a phone call or something here?” I hate how tired and weak my voice is, but I’ve been set up by a blackmailing scumbag and spent an entire day in jail over it. A little tiny pity party isn’t outside the realm of reasonable responses.
Huey clears his throat and plucks at his sleeves a bit. “I don’t think this will take very long, Mr. Harrington.”
I sigh. “Well, do I at least get to take a nap, or do I have to head back to Pee-ville right away?”
The other man snorts. “I’m sure we can find you somewhere to catch a little shut-eye. Why didn’t you tell Dunn to shut up about his kid and sleep in the car? It was a long enough trip that you could have gotten at least a quick nap in.”
I give him a wry smile. “Look, Louie, I spent the entire first half of the ride here assuming that you all were going to take me out to some remote marshy area and unofficially disappear me.”
He squints at me. “Disappear you? You’ve been watching too many movies, Mr. Harrington.”
The driver laughs. “Come on. We wouldn’t have put you in the car on camera if we’d wanted to disappear you, sir.”
And okay, all three of them laugh at that, but it honestly makes my blood run a little cold because I get the feeling that they’re definitely not kidding.
I am escorted again to what appears to be another underground bunker type courtroom. The judge is already on the bench this time, and he’s a tall, skinny, serious looking type. I try to stand up as straight as possible, all the while wishing I’d been able to give Thom Abernathy the heads up about my unexpected change in circumstances.
Proceedings begin after the judge introduces himself, and it sounds like a series of words and phrases that I ought to be paying more attention to, but I can’t bring myself to do it.
The government attorney gets up and says a few magic lawyer phrases, and then the judge talks some more. Cripes, I am so tired. I feel like if this drags on much longer, I’ll definitely fall asleep right here.
The judge pauses in his speech, his eyes on me. Well, crap. I was apparently supposed to be paying attention because it must be my side’s turn.
I stand up, the way the lawyer did. “Good afternoon, your Honor.” I straighten my clothing as best as I can. “I apologize for not knowing quite the right thing to say at this point, but if I could reach out to my attorney, Thom Abernathy….” My voice trails off helplessly.
The judge’s mouth purses up. Ugh. I am definitely going to the deepest darkest corner of the prison after this phenomenal mess up on my part. Or maybe the judge will just order the big marshals to take me for another drive. Huey, Dewey, and Louie don’t seem like the type of guys who will lose much sleep over dismembering a man, even a kind-hearted and good-looking man who feigned interest in a newborn for them.
Everyone looks at me like they’re waiting for me to start talking again, and when I don’t, the judge leans his face against one of his bony, long-fingered hands. “Mr. Harrington, I need you to tell me whether you intend to plead guilty or not guilty to the charges that were filed against you. So once you say the words, we can all get out of here for the afternoon.”
