Page 80 of See No Evil

There was nothingmore beautiful than traveling to foreign lands. Silver-winged angels and silver-tongued demons often went on special missions, journeying to places they’d never been.

Strange, philosophical thoughts ran through Legend’s mind as he drove at top speed on the Harley Davidson motorcycle. Perhaps mankind was the merging of the two? Angels and demons decided to play a game, and created humankind. Mankind became a toy. A strange creation, born from good and evil—thus, we have a choice to act in one nature or the other? God let them have their fun. What if every day was a test, to see who would win? Good versus evil. Thus far, the scoreboard said: Angels 0. Demons 1.

Conceivably, there was still an opportunity for the angels to catch up, even during the last innings, and maybe, angels are rather warlike after all. Not the meek, mild and pretty renditions we see in old oil paintings, hanging high in stuffy museums. It’s not inconceivable that they, too, thirst for retribution, bloodlust, and justice, here on Earth. Or maybe, we’re just all in some great big petri dish, while gods and goddesses look on, making bets on us, and laughing at our follies, while stuffing their golden mouths with crystal grapes. Who will kill who today? Who will succumb to temptation? Who will come out victorious?

Legend revved his motorcycle as he headed down a winding, bumpy road amongst some of the most picturesque peaks, green hills, and thick woodlands he’d ever seen. The sun had almost set, a streak of lavender crept across the sky, and as he approached the dark blue forty-foot container home in the middle of nowhere with loud generators running, he knew immediately that his wishes had been bought and paid for, and carried out to the letter.

He removed his helmet, got off the motorcycle, grabbed the duffle bag full of delights, and approached the container. Slipping his leather-gloved hand into his jacket pocket, he removed a special silver key he’d been given by one of the men who greeted him at the hotel.

Jamming it into the old padlock, he cracked it open and entered into the rectangular space, shrouded in darkness. A cold burst of air hit him immediately, bathing him in an icy zephyr, from head to toe. The air conditioning unit to his right was on full blast. A meager beam of light shined down on one spot of the container. To his left was a pristine surgical steel table, and a low cot close by. An old television, like the kind Mama had, and all the paraphernalia he required were within reach.

Stifled cries came from the trash, left in a corner. Legend’s boots thundered with each step he took towards the garbage. Tucked and wrapped away like a present was the sight he expected to see, and his lips curled. He dropped the duffel bag on the floor and turned on the light switch, flooding the entire space in a bright red glow.

The moans of the rubbish grew louder as he approached, and the human excrement, passing itself off as a human being, moved about in a thick black cotton sack. Yanking the sack up about the neck area with one hand, he quickly undid the twine rope around the feet, and peeled the bag off his priceless gift, allowing it to fall softly to the floor.

He was now looking into the cold, light sable eyes of the man who had taken his childhood and stomped it to death without a shred of mercy. The dark brown waves of hair he recalled as a boy had been replaced by wiry salt and pepper strands, thinning in the middle, a bald spot in the making. Crow’s feet framed his devilish eyes, and dark bags hung from them like sallow blue sails. His hands were bound in handcuffs, and his ankles were also restrained. Legend threw his gift on the floor, causing a loud reverberation. It was like a piñata, only the candy inside was rotten, bloody, and stale.

“Hola, Luis. ¿Me extrañaste?” (Hello, Luis. Did you miss me?)

The man’s mouth was covered in several layers of dark blue tape, and it was clear to him, there was no recollection in the fiend’s glare. Picking him back up with one hand, he smiled, then dropped him back down unceremoniously.

He walked over to the right side of the room and turned on an old, dust-covered movie projector. Legend held a remote control and pushed a couple of buttons to get the show underway. At last, the performance began. On the screen came a cereal commercial from his youth.

“Look. Watch. Listen,” he ordered. The sack of shit turned scared, weary eyes towards the screen.

A little boy and girl were smiling, big and bright, as they jammed their silver spoons in the sugary concoction of muesli and milk. A commercial much like he’d see on Saturday mornings, between cartoons. It then went to another commercial straight out of Kentucky. Old VHS lines ran through the screen as cheery music played about the Kentucky lottery. ‘Instant Win! Time for that Instant Grin!’ went the jingle. A man sang it happily, encouraging those that desired to wish upon a star, for riches and relief.

“Remember that, Luis? You used to like to play the lotto. I sure remember it. And I remember this commercial playin’ all the time, too. I bet you sure miss Kentucky, don’t ya? The pickin’s there was ripe.”

Then, the montage of pictures began to play. Just simple images of simple people, doing simple things.

A photo of Paula, his mother. She was petite back then, with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. A Barbie doll in the flesh, with Kentucky, Southern flare, and a smile that could light up a room. There she stood with his father at the hospital, holding Legend after he was born. They looked so happy. Perhaps relieved. Maybe, they’d felt like they’d hit the lottery, too.

More and more photos showed up, pictures of little Legend growing up, a big smile on his freckled face. There were snapshots of him playing with rocks down by the pond in his first years of life, and others holding a Christmas card from Grandma. One of his favorites was when he held his baby sister, Melanie, and another, was him at the public park, on one of the swings. He was wearing a thick orange jacket, and his little feet kicked high into the air. No one could have told him that life was coming… and would be delivering a few terrible blows.

The first grade school photo looked a bit different. The smile was faint, barely there. Second grade school photo—no smile at all. But there was some bruising on his face. Boys will be boys. Perhaps he’d fallen, or gotten into a fight with a classmate over a cookie? There was no joy, no ‘instant grin,’ like the lottery commercial promised.

Legend regarded Luis, who was slumped against the wall. His eyes were big as his fists had once been as they hammered into his little body. But now, he was an old man, and all he could do was squint, mumble, and pray as he looked on. Reality had come to him and shown him the creation of his deeds.

“I take it you remember me now. Yeah, here I am.” Legend removed his leather bike jacket, and slung it over a nearby chair. “That little boy grew up and became a man. You see this room?” He turned about in a slow circle, arms wide, the cold air blowing his hair about, and the odor of Luis’ sweat filling his nostrils. “It’s set up almost the exact same way my mama had her livin’ room. Do you remember? Ugly ass couch right there, TV over here. Pictures on the wall up there… I want to take you back to that time. A place you left behind, in such a hurry.

“You left the great state of Kentucky to live in Puerto Rico. From my understandin’, you hadn’t been here since you were three years old. You know, when I tracked you down, I found it ironic that you live only twenty-two minutes away from my father. Same city, too. I took that as a sign that maybe, just maybe, I needed to make a pitstop. So, I did. Sorry to have kept you waiting an additional day, but it was necessary. I likeclosure. A last chapter. Kind of a stickler about things like that, as you can probably tell.”

Luis was eerily quiet. The noises from behind the taped lips had stopped all together. Perhaps he was in shock?

Legend went over and turned down the air.

“That was a little loud. I want you to hear everything I’m sayin’. It’s funny what things stick wit’ us, long after they’re over, Luis. Our first time tasting a peanut butter and jelly sandwich… our first time playin’ on the beach… our first day of school… What sticks with me, too, is the first time you approached me and told me that even though I missed my dad, it was going to be okay, because you were gonna help take care of me. I smiled at you and thought, ‘Great! He ain’t my real daddy, but he might do!’ I was real trustin’ back then. I took people at their word, ’specially adults. I wanted someone to take me to baseball and basketball games. Show me how to put on a tie. I wanted to be able to say, ‘My daddy is comin’ to pick me up from school today.’ Like some of the otha kids got to say…

“You did that, Luis. You first showed up when my father was still in Kentucky, but had moved out. His visits were getting less and less frequent. My mama was dating again, and you slid right on in. Not a second to spare. Then, when Daddy moved back here, you started the grooming. All of a sudden, I was gettin’ extra money for lunch. I had been on the free lunch program, but you got me off there, and even told me to go on and get chips and cookies, too. I got toys. All the Hot Wheels and Transformers a boy could dream of! I got candy. I loved candy… my dentist knew I loved it, too, because I soon had a cavity. You paid for the dental bill, and you did it wit’ a smile.

“For me, every day was Christmas. I didn’t quite understand why you didn’t give my baby sister some of that stuff, too. You pretty much ignored her, but I found out the reason why later. Didn’t I?”

His fingers itched and twitched as he thought about all the things he wanted to poke and stab him with. Luis’ eyes remained cold and icy, and he just kind of rested against that wall. Deflated.

“Then, you started kissin’ me on my cheek a lot. No big deal. I had seen a lotta daddies do that to their sons and we know how affectionate us Puerto Ricans can be. Ain’t nothin’ perverted about it. Just pure fatherly love. But, with you, it didn’t stop there.” Legend shook his finger at him. “It turned into more hugs and kisses, and the hugging got tighter… and tighter. Rubbin’ up and down my body. You were wanting me to sit on your lap, even when I felt I was too big to be doin’ that.” He smiled sadly. “I did it anyway, ’cause I wanted to make you happy, and you told me it was okay. But then, it stopped bein’ okay. Didn’t it, Luis?”

Legend grabbed a jug from the floor and shook it vigorously. The liquid inside sloshed around. He began pacing back and forth, his heart rate increasing, and he chomped at the bit. Yearning to hear the screams and pure panic from a heller.

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