Emily Kimelman - Sydney Rye 02 - Death in the Dark (3 page)

“I washed in the river. Which made me pretty dirty really, but I think she was trying to baptize me in a sense. I needed to wash away the old me and it had to be done in a way that would leave me dirty. You can’t ever be clean. There is no salvation really. I don’t know what happens after we die. Maybe when you go to real heaven the water is clean and takes away all your sins. But this river water just washed me dirty. It helped me let go of what had happened. The slave I’d been, the trusts I’d broken.”

Merl paused and looked toward the cement house. “I like a beer every now and then but that’s it for me. Nothing else. I can’t trust myself. And I don’t know how many chances you get. How many rivers can cleanse you with mud. I’m not sure of the numbers but I doubt I’d get another chance. And I’m not one for throwing away chances. Not anymore anyway.”

“So that does not explain how you started training dogs,” I said.

Merl turned back toward me and continued. “After I washed in the river Mei-Ping washed me in a real bath. Got me all clean. And this was water she’d boiled in a pot and then poured over my head. She was an angel, I’ll swear to that if nothing else in my life. I’ve met an angel.”

“Ok, so you were in love with her.”

“No, no.” He shook his head and waved his hands at me. “She was so far above me. You can’t be in love with someone so much higher than you.” Merl’s eyes were wide and he looked up at the palm fronds above our head. “She was too much for me. Sure, I loved her but to be in-love you have to, or at least I have to think of that person as amazing, wonderful, all those things, but on my level.” He looked back down at me. “You’re not in-love with God. You worship him, you love him, but there is no boning about it. And being in-love definitely includes boning. Right?” He cocked his head at me.

I laughed and reached for my coffee. “Sure, OK, so you were no
t
in-lov
e
with her. You loved her but no boning.”

He laughed. “Yeah, no boning. Anyway, I spent months there getting stronger. Mei-Ping started to teach me Tai Chi which is really what gave me the strength I needed. I’ll teach it to you. In fact, we’ll start that today.”

“Very Mister Miyagi of you.”

Merl ignored me. “I stayed there for almost 8 months. I had some contact with the outside world but not much. It’s not like there was a computer there. I’d let my parents know where I was and my mom sent me letters telling me about what they were up to.

“They had moved to a small town in North Carolina from the house I grew up in Delaware. My Dad joined a country club where he could golf and my mom had her gardens and they were really happy.

“But then she wrote that she was worried about Dad. He was going to have surgery and wouldn’t I please come home.” Merl paused and looked over at Blue and Thunder wrestling in the sand. “You know what? There was a moment where I was terrified for myself when I read that.” He looked back at me. “I didn’t know if I could stay me once I left that little paradise. There were no temptations there. I was without conflict. I did my duties, I practiced my practice. I did not have any old wound openers. And mind you, I had a pretty good relationship with my parents. We weren’t big sharers or anything but we all loved each other and knew it. I was just afraid that the old me would come back. But, those thoughts only lasted an instant. I knew that what I was really facing was my father’s death and I needed to go home immediately. It took only a couple of days to get there.”

The door to the house opened and Ramon stepped through holding two plates of food. He shuffled his feet through the thick sand and placed the plates, brimming with refried beans, tortillas, cheese, red sauce, and all topped with a fried egg, before us. His mission accomplished, Ramon broke out into a wide grin.

“Looks amazing,” I said and gave him a thumbs up. Merl nodded and smiled too. Ramon returned to the house. I refilled my coffee cup and Merl’s.

“We need-” Merl started.

“He’ll bring them,” I said.

Merl turned to look at the house. There did not appear to be any movement inside. I sat back and sipped my coffee watching Blue pant in the sun. Two of the Dobermans wrestled nearby. Merl sat back in his chair, coffee cup in hand, and joined me in watching the dog show.

I heard the door open and turned to see Ramon hurrying across the sand with napkins wrapped around cutlery. He started to apologize but I wouldn’t let him say a thing. “Gracias, muchas gracias,” I said, taking mine from his hand. Merl took the other and we both dug into our breakfast. My plate half empty I sat back and took a breath. I wiped my mouth and crumpled the napkin.

“So you left to go see your father, then what happens?”

Merl smiled and swallowed his bite, wiped his mouth and continued his story. “I’d arrived with a small pack and I left with an even smaller one. Mei-Ping took me to the airport and she kissed me goodbye the way a master kisses her grown puppy, with pride and joy at what I’d become.” He sipped at his coffee and cleared his throat. “Being on a plane and re-entering the normal world was so strange to me. Last time I’d faced security, I was sweating and dying and fighting myself at every turn. Now I was this fluid creature. Nothing got in my way because I was following the energies of the room. In Tai Chi we learn to use the energy of our opponent against them. This is what I was doing with everything. It was like I was floating and all the people around me were crawling.

“When I landed in New York and was transferring to head down south, I ran into an old army buddy. He was gregarious and excited to see me. He lifted me off the ground with his hello hug. I saw what I had been in him and I was happy to now be me. There was this deep anger in him and that was what made his motions so big, his smile so large. We went to a bar and he downed beers like they were glasses of water and we were just back from a trek through the desert.

“Within a half hour he was drunk. I convinced him to take his leave in China at my retreat instead of going home. I paid for his ticket and told him to find Mei-Ping. I think the world would be a much better place if we all got to go spend some time with Mei-Ping.”

“Sign me up,” I said with a smile.

He laughed and shook his head. “I headed south and my mom picked me up at the airport. She was drawn and scared but putting on this big show of bravery for me. It broke my heart to see her trying to protect me. I took her in my arms right there in the airport parking lot where she was chattering on about how my father was going to be fine and this was considered routine in men his age and I should really not worry but she was glad I was there.

“I’m not a tall man but my mom is smaller. She kept talking at first. But I pulled her close. There was not really anyone around but it was still the most affection we’d ever shown in public. In fact, I think it was the longest hug of my adult life. She stopped talking. Well, really the talking just turned into these hiccup tears and I could feel that she was terrified. So scared that she would lose the one man she’d had all these years. The one thing that she was living for, cooking dinner for, having kids for, and now he was laying in a hospital room strung up with wires and tubes and beeping machines and no amount of freshly-made beds or spotless kitchen counters could save his heart.

“I didn’t tell her to shush, I didn’t rub her hair I just stood there like one of those oval mountains and let her cry onto my chest. We didn’t talk about it after. That’s not the kind of family we were.” He laughed again. “Not that we were the type of family to stand around in airport parking lots crying but if we were going to do such things we were not going to talk about it after. And I was fine with that. I don’t think we have to talk about every emotion that crosses our souls.

“We went straight to the hospital and there he was: my dad, the biggest, strongest guy around. But now he was so much smaller. Almost my size. He smiled and I recognized his spirit. But it was clear the guy was not going to make it. There was no beating time. You can’t fix it, tape it up, extend it. Time does not allow itself to be challenged. It keeps going and you don’t. And that is life.”

“That’s a sunny outlook,” I said.

Merl shrugged. “It’s not an outlook, Sydney, it’s just a fact.”

I pulled at a piece of tortilla and rubbing it around on my plate said, “I guess.”

“I practiced in the hallway of the hospital outside of his room. I practiced in my parent’s backyard so filled with my mother’s wonderful gardens. I practiced everyday. I didn’t let my teaching go and that is why I was able to stand it. It is a part of our lives to lose our parents and through my practice I was able to find peace with that.”

I thought about the passing of my own father briefly and then shoved the memories away. There was no peace there for me.

“Of course I mourned my father,” Merl continued. “At his funeral, which was well attended not only by his old friends, but also the new ones he had made in his southern community, I cried as he was lowered into the ground. I let my loss express itself. You can’t hide from time and you cannot hide from grief. So I let mine out, holding hands with my mom who cried, too.

“At the reception a man about ten years younger than my Dad approached me. He said he knew my father, they were golf buddies, that my father was a really good man. I agreed. ‘You need a job?’ he asked. I was taken aback but answered that honestly I did. My mother and I’d spent all our time at the hospital and running around. I had not thought about my next move, but yes, I realized I should stay here with my mom, get a job and help her find her new place alone in this world.

“He owned a dog training facility. And not just any dog training facility. He trained dogs for the army, for police departments, and of course, for rich families who wanted a well-behaved pooch. He taught me his trade. Really though, Mei-Ping taught me his trade. I was calm, I didn’t push back, just let them use their own energy to do my bidding. I excelled there. For 15 years I trained with that man, Abraham Wilkens. We became very close.

“However, when my mother passed away,” Merl picked up his napkin and toyed with it as he talked. “She died in her garden, a small cough, a gentle collapse into blossoming poppies, and she was gone. My dog, Thunder, who’d been keeping her company sat by her side, licked her face, and cried until I got home. It comforted me to know she was not alone in the garden where some creature might have found her.”

Upon hearing his name Thunder separated from the other dogs and came to Merl’s side. Merl reached out his hand and brushed some sand off the old dog’s muzzle.

“I didn’t want to stay once she was gone. The house was just so empty and it was time for me to move on. Abraham understood. I’ve been working freelance like this ever since.”

“Like this?

“Yup,” he smiled and shook his head. “No, few of my cases have been like you. No one has ever had the raw talent.”

“Raw is right.”

“Raw is best.”

TRAINING MONTAGE TIME PEOPLE

Running on the beach with Blue by my side became my every morning. Merl ran behind us, his dogs flanking him. We’d run so far and so long that by the end I wanted to dive into the water, sink under the gentle waves, and be washed clean the way Merl was in China. But it felt like the fever inside of me would never break. I’d never be on the other side of this thing.

We practiced Tai Chi at dusk, once the sun was calm enough. “Relax,” Merl would say, and wiggle my extended fingers. “Don’t rush,” he’d remind me as I tried to float across the sand. “Relax,” he’d say, and touch my shoulders to make me drop them. “Don’t rush,” he’d say as I reached for an invisible enemy.

Full-speed combat practice happened either at night or in the blazing heat of mid-day. The same instructions were given. “Relax. Don’t rush.”

“How am I supposed to not rush when I’m trying to hit you!”

“Relax.”

“Argh!” I used my frustration to throw two quick jabs, both missed him, leaving just a sly smile on his face. I dropped to the ground and tried to take out his feet but he jumped, landing with his elbow in the back of my neck. I fell to the sand and felt it burn my cheek.

“Here, take this,” Merl threw a long stick to me. I rolled over and stood.

“I’ve never used one of these before,” I said, picking it up. The stick was made of blonde wood, and almost my height. Merl twirled an identical weapon in his well trained hands. I felt my heart dropping, this was not going to end well for me.

“Get a feel for it,” Merl said.

I twirled it once feeling the even weight throughout. Merl jabbed at the air with it showing me how far it could reach. “See what this can do for you?”

“Sure,” I mimicked his movement extending the weapon.

“Now bring it around.” Using one hand, Merl spun the stick behind his back and then grabbed it with the other and brought it to his side. “You can defend yourself at a good distance from multiple attackers.”

I smiled and followed his lead, bringing it behind my back and striking at imaginary opponents surrounding me. “Wouldn’t a gun be even more useful?”

“Until you ran out of bullets.”

I laughed. “That’s what an extra clip is for.”

“You know so much, do you?” I took my eyes off the stick and looked up at his calm face.

“Not so much. Just asking a question.”

“I don’t use guns, if you want to learn that you’ll need to search elsewhere.”

I shrugged. “Ok, touchy subject?”

“Guns make it too easy. Taking a life should not be so simple.” He leapt across the space separating us and stopped just short of stabbing me in the stomach.

“If that was a bullet I’d be digesting lead right now.”

“We are not actually trying to kill each other, Sydney,” he said.

“Just play, right?”

“Exactly.”

I hit his stick away using mine. His eyebrows jumped and he smiled at me. “That’s it. Now what?”

I took a deep breath filling myself with the quiet of action. “Relax, don’t rush.”

He laughed and I went for his feet again. This time I got him! Merl fell onto his back and I rushed to take advantage of my position but he brought his stick up and I rammed my own stomach into it. I fell back gasping for breath onto the sand. “Don’t rush,” he told me, sand caught in his long, luscious eyelashes.

“Fuck you,” I wheezed. He was already on his feet again. Merl reached out a hand to me, offering his help. I shook my head and rolled onto my hands and knees. We faced each other again.

“It was your brother’s time,” he said.

I spit sand out into the nearby surf. “What?”

“You heard me. It was his time; there is nothing you could have done. Everything is meant to be. Time-”

The anger came like a knife right through me. “No!” I struck at him with my stick and it clashed into his which was suddenly, inexplicably, in front of him. I stepped back and kept the weapon in front of my chest.

“You can’t fix it, tape it up, extend it,” Merl said.

I crouched down and swung the narrow tool at his ankles, trying to break him to the ground. He jumped and lighted back on the beach, as I tipped over with my effort.

“Time does not allow itself to be challenged.”

I scrambled back to my feet, panting, sweat dripping into my eyes. He took a step toward me and I backed away.

“It keeps going and you don’t.”

I felt a blow to my arm that I didn’t even see coming. It knocked me into the surf, my head went under for a moment, and I choked on the salt water. Jumping back up I was dizzy and disoriented, my throat and nose burning.

“And that is life,” Merl said.

Salt water prickled on my skin and defeat closed around my heart. He stood in front of me, the wind playing with his ponytail, his big eyes looking into mine with utter calm.

I dropped my stick into the surf and walked up toward the Javelina. He took my feet out from under me and my chin hit the sand. I bit my lip and tasted blood. Rolling onto my back, Merl put the stick at my throat. “Are you giving up?” he asked, as gently as someone offering a cup of tea.

“I just need a break,” I said, the chill water of the Sea of Cortez brushing against my feet.

“Another thing time does not give you. Do you see how full of wanting you are? And how little action you’ve got going on?”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about half the time.”

“Not so.” We stared at each other for a moment. I licked at my salty, sandy lips and felt the grit in my teeth. “Get up,” he said.

“How am I supposed to do that with you standing over me like this!” I yelled, anger so rich it seemed to be bubbling up past the sand, the blood and the sea water that lined my insides. He just smiled, the fucker.

“Not like that. Calmly. You always have an option. You’re not dead until you are, so keep going. Fight me.” His big brown eyes sparkled in the bright daylight. I swiped at the stick but he just pulled it up and then right down onto my throat again only this time harder so I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I rolled away, tucking my head into my arms, rolling and rolling like I was kid playing roly-poly. Then I popped onto my hands and knees. He came at me and I threw up my arm brushing his stick aside. With my other hand I grabbed onto it and pulled it out of his grip. Keeping hold of the stick I backed up onto my feet. He was standing with his arms spread wide and his feet parted. We circled each other, both smiling at the challenge.

And so it went on like this. For one month, and then the next. We ran in the mornings and practiced fighting in the afternoon, then practiced fighting really slowly at dusk. Late at night, sometimes he would sneak into my RV and I’d have to defend myself from a state of sleep. You’d think after the first couple of times it happened I’d have trouble sleeping but I would hit my pillow every night and be out. The creak of the door, his footsteps, nothing would reach through my slumber until he was upon me. Once with his hands around my throat, another time it was a knife, on his third visit it was Merl’s dog, Michael, that awoke me.

Michael was standing on my bed baring his teeth and growling. In the gloom of my bedroom I could see Merl in the doorway. “Wouldn’t Blue be responsible for this kind of thing?” I asked. “Can’t he take a shift?” I rolled away from Michael and tried to cover my head with a pillow and that’s when I noticed the handcuffs.

“Blue won’t always be around. You must learn to defend yourself.”

“From a Doberman pincher who can put handcuffs on me?” I sat up and held my bound wrist toward him. Michael snapped at the air millimeters from my fingers. I pulled them to my chest. “Whoa, watch it,” I said.

“What are you going to do?” Merl asked. “You look like you’re getting angry.”

“Ha, yeah, right,” I took a deep breath because he was right, I was getting really angry. “Fuck!” I yelled before slamming my hand against the end of the bed dislocating my thumb with a sickening pop. The handcuff slipped off and I smashed the thumb back into place.

“Where did you learn that?” Merl asked.

I glared up at him, cradling my throbbing hand. Using the pain as a centering point for my thoughts I let my body do what it’d been trained for. Slipping off the bed, taking a small knife concealed under my pillow with me, I stood. Michael leapt at me. I side stepped, then pivoting my body, used the dog’s momentum to slam him into the wall. Somersaulting over the bed, I landed inches from Merl with the tip of my blade at his throat.

“Well done,” Merl said and nodded, smiling. “We will start with Blue tomorrow.” Then he slipped from beneath my knife and disappeared into the night without a sound. Michael brushed past me as he followed Merl out. Climbing back into bed I looked down at my swollen thumb and the wrist that the handcuffs still hung from. “One day you’ll thank me,” Merl called from outside. I flopped onto my pillow and returned to sleep.

First we learned voice commands. When Blue moved from my left to my right in time with my calls, Merl made us do it with a whistle and finally silently- with only the motion of my hands to lead us. Soon our morning jogs included Blue running figure eights around me (“Circle,”) retrieving sticks (“Boomerang,”) or taking that stick to the right (“Blue Out”), or the left (“Brown Out”). We used the color of Blue’s eyes as directionals because for the life of me I could not keep track of my left and right sides.

“Blue Out.” Stick in mouth, Blue dashed up a dune and when he reached the top barked at me until I called him back (“Come”), or gave one long whistle, or held my right hand to my heart. He’d come racing across the sand, his teeth gripping the stick and a look of pure determination on his fuzzy brow. I grabbed it from him and Blue leapt around me filled with excitement. “Good boy, yeah, that’s my good boy.” I launched the stick into the sea and Blue dashed after it. Merl’s three looked at him, and with a nod of his head, they joined Blue in the surf.

“He’s an amazing dog,” Merl said as we watched Blue pumping through the water toward the stick, the three Dobermans close on his tail.

“Yeah, I got lucky.”

“You both did.”