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Rip pulled the handkerchief from the boy’s mouth and walked back into the room behind the fridge, then he came back with a long, metallic rod. “…You’ll be getting some of this.” Rip turned on the cattle prod and it began making a popping noise. Seeing the boy had gotten the message and was as still as a stump on a blustery day, he turned it off.
The line of lights went side to side, Rip asked, “Can you hear me, Adel Jr?”
Adel Jr. nodded as the lights reminded him of the metronome he once used to play the piano.
At the age of ten, Adel Jr. was dropped off at an affiliate of Freya’s who tutored and nurtured young Adel to be the brilliant pianist that he was. But being the nefarious woman that Freya was, she insisted to her tutor friend that he put on a private concert, for the both of them. And so, it was planned. Then on that day, Freya let herself in, only to be greeted by Adel Jr. playing Chopin’s Étude Op. 25, No. 6 in G Minor from start to finish.
In awe, Adel Jr. remembered them clapping and being told by Freya, “With my help, you can become one of the most famous pianists to have ever lived,” as he was ushered into her car, then offered a piece of fudge.
“Okay, now look into the light. With each sway, you will feel more and more relaxed….”
Young Adel Jr.’s eyes were locked onto the light.
“You won’t remember anything of me, my wife, my house. You will forget everything from your stay here. When you attempt to recollect what has transpired here, you will only see a shroud of darkness concealing what has happened here for as long as you may live.”
Adel Jr. stared into the lights, like that of a fresh canvas to a painter.
“What are you going to forget?” Rip asked.
“Everything,” Adel Jr. said in a trance.
“Good. And what will you see when you attempt to remember?”
“I will only see a shroud of darkness.”
• • •
Adel worked without end after seeing to it the evidence was destroyed, three years from the day but not a day went by when he didn’t wonder, Did I make the right decision? And without the leverage he once had as the Chief of Police, Adel stayed at home with nothing else on his mind but his son. He no longer had the sheen of a shaved head, letting his hair grow out, while his beard had grown to immense proportions.
With dark circles under his eyes, he sat on the couch as he sifted through files that he had gone through countless times, hoping to find something that he hadn’t in the last three years. And after yet another unsuccessful sift, he closed the file, looking to the picture of his family on the bookshelf.
“Where are you, son?” Adel asked himself, as he grabbed the crest of his nose hiding his shame from himself. A tear ran down his cheek.
Brianna Saleh had just come downstairs, ready for work in her pantsuit. Upon seeing Adel in his somber state, she walked over to him and said, “It’s time, Adel. I need my husband back.”
He looked his wife in the eyes, knowing she was right. He remembered the looks on Dante and Dawayne’s faces, knowing he would never be able to forget their sacrifice. So, with a bittersweet smile, Adel grabbed the file, walked over to the cabinet, and placed it in the back.
“There’s nothing else we can do, Dear.” Soon Brianna left but not before drying the lone tear from her husband’s cheek.
"I can't keep doing this to myself I have to let you go son…I love you." And just as Adel gave his parting words, the doorbell rang. Not expecting anyone, Adel straightened his collar and opened the door.
“Hey, Dad.”
Chapter Nine
Agapē
On the other side of town, Orella Kaleema leaned against her news van, waiting for her cameraman, combing her long brown locks.
“Do you have everything ready to go?” she asked as he finished packing up the last attachment. Orella took the free moment she thought she had, pulling out her pocket mirror and giving herself a few pats of rouge on each cheek.
“Yeah, everything is ready. Put the rest of your face on in the car.”
Orella rolled her eyes and got in the van.
“So, what’s the scoop?” the man asked as he pulled the van out of the KPAB parking lot.
“Local former police chief’s kid showed up after being missing for three years—an anonymous tip.”
• • •
“You really want to go see Adel?” George asked Dante.
“I just have this weird feeling in my stomach,” Thirteen-year-old Dante said, closing his book.
George looked at the clock then back to his son, squinting.
“It’s been three years, and we got nothing to show for it after you boys gave up the evidence.”
“Dad, we don’t know that. You said it yourself, you haven’t talked to him for months.”
“We need to put all that behind us.”
“It already is.”
George thought about it for a moment and sighed. “All right, we can go. I just have to drop Amy off at Bess’s first.”
George went and pulled his daughter from her bed, bringing her, next door.
Bess’s yard wasn’t quite the sight that Luciano’s was, but she had rose bushes out front that caught all their neighbors’ attention.
George walked up the white brick stairs and leaned forward, letting Amy press the doorbell. A woman with a buxom physique opened the door.
“Afternoon, Bess.”
Two young boys, no older than six, came running behind her into another room. A resounding thud caught everyone’s attention, and the children’s cries filled their ears. Bess rolled her eyes. “Take care of your brother and get him a bandage if he needs one!”
She turned back to George and asked, “How long?”
“Hour and a half, tops.”
Bess held out her arms and George handed his little love over.
“You just keep getting cuter and cuter every time you come over, don’t ya? You’ll help keep me sane with these little heathens running around,” Bess said to Amy.
“I’ll see ya soon, George.”
“As soon as I can, Bess.”
“Bye, Daddy.”
George walked back over the hill and saw that his son had pulled out the car from the garage. “You better not have put a scratch on it,” he said as he hopped in.
“Dad, I literally just had to go straight back. You make it sound like it’s stuff Grandpa did at NASA.”
As the two Luciano men enjoyed their journey over to Pemberly Court, they noticed multiple news vans. Cameras were pointed at Adel as he stood on his front porch.
“George!” Adel yelled as he waved at his friend. “Get over here!” Like the parting of the Red Sea, the reporters moved, making way for George and Dante. Adel beamed as he wrapped his arms around them, looking into the cameras.
“I have these two to thank for why my son is back.”
George seemed shocked, while Dante had an unshakeable smile.
“If I may, sir, did you have any idea of where your son was during his disappearance?” Orella asked.
Adel looked straight into the camera. “The only evidence I have is circumstantial at this point, but now that I have my son back, I’m coming for you.”
“Coming for who?” Orella asked.
“No more questions,” Adel demanded. The three reporters stood there, shoving their camera into Dante’s face.
“Young man, what was your role in getting his son back?”
George stepped in between his son and the cameras. “Did you hear the man? No more questions.”
George took a step back, standing beside Adel in solidarity, asking, “When did he come back?”
“Today,” Adel said, beaming, but his smile soon turned to a scowl as he saw Orella and the others shoving their mics toward his face once more.”
“Have a nice evening, folks,” George said.
“Funny you two would show up.”
“Hey, don’t look at me, it was his idea,” George said, looking at Dan
te.
“I just had a feeling we needed to come see you, Mr. Saleh.”
“Well, I’d tell you to look into being a cop if I didn’t get fired for doing my job. You guys want to come in?”
“That’d be great,” George said as he looked back at Dante.
While his father was in disbelief, Dante in his heart of hearts had a feeling something like this would come to pass. Adel opened the door for them to come in, and a spitting image of a younger Adel sat on their couch.
“Honey! George and Dante are here!”
“Coming!” a female voice shouted.
“Junior.”
Adel Jr. turned his gaze from the television, revealing dark circles under his eyes. Dante walked over and sat beside him, not saying a word. Mrs. Saleh came down the stairs, meeting her husband and George, who both stood, watching their children bond in silence.
Adel Jr. sat there looking at Dante as though he had seen him before.
“Junior, these are the people I told you about—that’s Dante sitting next to you, and this is his father George, but you can call him Mr. Luciano.”
“It’s nice to meet you two, thanks for doing what you did,” Adel Jr. said, sounding exhausted.
“Thank you for coming, George, your timing is impeccable,” Brianna said.
“It was his idea,” George said, looking at his son.
“I’m really glad you’re back,” Dante said to Adel Jr.
“Yeah…. Thanks.”
“I bet it’s kinda weird being back after being gone for so long.”
“What’s weird is that I can’t remember anything from the last three years, so it’s like I was never gone.”
“That is weird,” Dante said.
“He really doesn’t remember anything?” George asked.
Adel shook his head. “Nothing, even showed him a picture of Rip and Freya…doesn’t remember a thing.”
“What are we going to do?” George asked.
Adel put his hand on George’s shoulder. “Oh no, George, you leave this to me. You have already done your part.”
George moved closer to Adel. “They got my kid the same as yours, and we got lucky. I can’t stand by knowing other kids like ours could be future victims.”
Adel nodded, then hugged George. “That means a lot, George. I’m right there with ya.”
“Why don’t you just leave them alone, you two? We just got our son back. There’s no need to keep kicking the hornets’ nest,” Brianna interjected.
George pressed his lips together as Mrs. Saleh squared up with Adel.
“I have to do this, honey. We both know they’ll keep on doing what they did until someone stops them…. I just have to.”
“But you don’t, Adel!”
“Brianna, we can’t do this right now.”
“Sorry about that, George,” Brianna apologized.
“No need to apologize. My wife would have wanted the same, and we don’t want to overstay our welcome.”
“Nonsense, you are more than welcome to stay,” Adel said.
“I can put out two extra plates,” Brianna offered.
George looked at his watch. “I wish I could, but I told Bess we’d be back soon. Raincheck?”
“Sure, you’re welcome anytime.”
George looked over to Dante. “You ready to go, son?”
“Yeah, I guess so….”
“We can stay longer next time.”
The two young men gave each other a fist bump.
“Thanks for having us,” the Luciano men chimed in unison.
“Come back soon.”
The Lucianos let themselves out and the Saleh’s waved as they drove off.
“Well, that was eventful,” George said.
“Yeah, and you didn’t want to come.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Would you like it if I took you kids out to get some Mexican tonight?”
The thought of refried beans and guacamole made Dante’s belly rumble.
“You okay, son?”
“Yeah, Dad, I’m okay, just hungry, and you know I love those beans at Torero’s.”
“You can even invite Dawayne if ya want.”
When they pulled into the driveway, George grabbed his wallet from his pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill.
“Here, take this and offer it to Bess, and if she refuses it, just ask her if she’d like us to bring her and the boys some food from Torero’s.”
“Got it. You want me to bring Amy back too, right?” Dante asked with a grin.
“Yeah, wise-ass. Go get her, then come home and call Dawayne.”
• • •
“We bring you live to the scene where a boy, three years after his disappearance, returns to his family.” Dawayne’s ears perked up as he lifted his head from his rifle. He recognized Adel as the reporter shoved the mic into his face. His eyes stayed fixed to the television while he cleaned the bore of his gun.
“So, how long has he been back, sir?”
“Less than a day,” and before Adel had the chance to answer more questions, the camera picked up the sound of a car door shutting. Adel waved his hand and yelled, “George!”
Dawayne put down the gun and leaned forward, intrigued. Another few moments passed, and two people came into view. Dawayne watched as Adel wrapped his arms around George and Dante. Then, staring into the camera, Adel said, “I have these two to thank for why my son is back.”
A normal person would seethe sitting there, but Dawayne just picked his gun up and went back to cleaning it. Whether he acknowledged it or not, he felt rejected once more, not getting the credit he deserved. Acting as though he was unperturbed, Dawayne looked down the barrel with the bore, then finished putting the gun together.
One of the reporters shoved their mic in front of Dante’s smiling face, but George wasn’t having any of it, and while Dawayne listened to Mr. Luciano telling them off, a feeling of resentment blossomed.
Dawayne reached for the remote and surfed until he found a channel worth stopping for and, upon seeing pictures of a familiar mugshot of Jeffrey Dahmer, he put down the remote and listened.
“On the last episode of Dangerous Killers, we talked about Ed Kemper, who severed a victim’s head then had his way with it, ewww! But strap in, because on this episode, we’re covering Jeffery Dahmer, who tried to make sex zombies—double ewww.”
Dawayne stewed, traversing the darker corners of his mind. As familiar photos of Dahmer’s victims came across the screen, he wondered what went through Dahmer’s mind as he dismembered them and contorted their bodies post-mortem.
Dawayne, even at the age of thirteen, was drawn to medical science, but nonetheless he gazed at Dahmer’s finished product.
He had disdain for so many people locked in his heart. Their neglect he correlated as yet just another form of rejection.
Although seeing Adel did not elicit thoughts of violence, the feeling of rejection compounded. He began imagining his neglectful mother. She was the one person who wasn’t supposed to abandon him, but yet another day had passed, and no one had seen any sign of her. He may have never had admitted it aloud to Dante, but Dawayne knew he relied on him and his father George to help keep him tethered to any semblance of what most people would call a normal life.
The phone began to ring, so Dawayne trudged through the dusty kitchen.
“Hello?”
“Hey, buddy, it’s Dante. Adel’s son found his way home.”
“Yeah, I saw the news just a little bit ago,” Dawayne grumbled.
“I would have given you credit if my dad didn’t tell the reporters to shove off. You want some Mexican food? My dad’s buyin’.”
Dawayne was silent.
“Dawayne?”
“I’m thinking,” he said, standing next to his mother’s desk as a tiny fleck of light came in through the curtain. His stomach gurgled.
“I’m in.”
Dawayne hung up and went out through the garage door, leaving Dante to guess as th
e line went dead. Dante shook his head with a grin, hung up the phone, and went outside.
“He coming?” George asked.
“Yeah, let’s go get him.”
They backed out of the driveway, making their way to the Long residence. As they did, Dawayne walked down the street with the sun on his face, ready to meet his friend.
Chapter Ten
Calcified
Four and a half years later
Dante, now eighteen, sat as he wore the scratchy tan clothes that the Dorothea Dix Mental Hospital staff gave him after being deloused and strip-searched.
“What’s today’s date?”
“It’s January 4th, 2006. Now, can we get on with this so I can go home?”
“That’s not going to be possible today. We must keep you here at least seventy-two hours.”
“Three days, huh? You’ve gotta be kidding me. I didn’t mean it.”
“Could you elaborate on that?”
“I could, but how about you tell me what’s in that folder, and how about a formal introduction? I’m not on trial here, and I’m not some crazed criminal, so I’d appreciate a little bit of common decency. Askin’ me what day it is, c’mon, like I’m some whack job. Get outta here.”
“You’ll have to excuse me, I’m Jeff. Dr. Cargan wanted me to perform your admission interview,” Jeff said as they shook hands.
“I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but I was kinda brought here against my will, so I’d appreciate it if we could get this process over with.”
“Very well, Mr. Luciano.”
Jeff fixed his glasses. “I’ll just read to you what the police said, sound fair?”
Dante nodded.
“We arrived on the scene to see the young man flailing his hands in our direction, then looking to his father behind him on the front porch. His face was red, and he seemed to be yelling. As we got out of the car, we heard him saying, ‘Damnit, Dad, why did you call the cops?’
“We introduced ourselves and asked the young man to ‘Please calm down,’ then we came closer, asking him, ‘What’s going on?’ The closer we got, we could tell he had been crying or yelling for quite some time, so we asked him to have a seat and calm down for a minute. After speaking with Mr. Luciano, we talked with Dante again regarding the threat on his life, at which point Dante reiterated to us, ‘I don’t want to live on this planet anymore.’ We then decided it best that he be brought in, not knowing fully the seriousness of his threats on his life.”