He’d told her almost all of it except what happened to her mother’s eyes. How it haunted him still. A body that lies out at sea won’t remain beautiful for very long.
“I missed her,” he’d said. “Even if she went to the cops before she died.”
She’d refused to show them any identification. Had spent an hour telling them everything she knew about him and Duane. When her body was found two days later the cops had no idea she was the same person.
He told Ann that as soon as he’d heard about it on the news he’d left town, leaving out the part about stealing her mother’s body from the morgue and burying it in the desert.
At a pay phone in Bakersfield he’d called the sheriff and told him they shouldn’t talk for awhile. He returned to New York and prepared for the worst. Three months went by. Nothing. But after six months he began to have a strong feeling that he was being watched. It was the feds finally. He’d been told that he’d know when they were around. And as far as he knew they weren’t the buyable kind.
It wasn’t until after his car accident that the feds made their move. He was an injured animal and they’d seen their chance to come in for an easy meal. While he was in the hospital having his empty eyehole sewn shut and his limbs set in casts, they arrived at his house with warrants to tear apart everything he had. When the doctors said he was well enough to leave they took him into federal custody.
“So why are you doing this to us?” Ann said. “We had nothing to do with what happened to you. We were only kids.”
“Where’s the money?”
“I don’t have it. James does.”
“Good. Then we’ll soon know who’s lying or not.”
Ann laughed at him and for a moment he was jarred back to a memory of her mother floating in the motel pool with her arms around him, her breath smelling of vodka and lemon.
“You’re not going to catch him. He knows this area better than you. You haven’t got a chance.”
“Why are you defending James? He left you to die didn’t he?’
“I know him. I’m not defending him.”
Cyclops smiled. He replaced the duct table over her mouth and smoothed his thumb over her lips to seal it.
“He can’t run forever. I will find him some day.”
He stood up and walked over to where he’d tied Chad to a post. He took out his knife and tilted it at an angle so he could see stars on its steel surface. Thought about all the throats it had parted so neatly.
The knife came down against Chad’s head. Cyclops brought up the blade as if he were cutting off the feathery tops from a fistful of tall summer grass. Ann screamed when he turned and showed her Chad’s blonde hair.
Chad still lay unconscious, hadn’t even seen him coming.
Cyclops walked back. Ann was crying. He tore away the tape on her mouth and sat down in front of her.
“Please don’t hurt him.”
“It’s only hair. It’s not going to kill him.”
“He doesn’t know anything about the money. He has nothing to do with this at all.”
“You think the money is everything Ann. But it’s not. It’s been about you. I wanted to meet you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re a loose end.” He took the handful of Chad’s hair and tossed it into the wind.
“My mother’s been dead for years. This has nothing to do with me.”
“But it does.”
“You’re crazy.”
“You’re free to think that. But let me tell you something. When I got out of prison I was not at all the man that went in. Prison is like a factory that presses coins. They think they’re turning us into something they can dump back into the normal currency some day. But they know it’s not true. That most of us come out ready to put our new education to use.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“I think you do. As well as anyone I know. But other than taking my money you mostly walk the straight and narrow these days don’t you?”
“Duane hoped he could turn me into someone like him but it didn’t take. I knew that I’d never get back those years of my life so I took what I thought was mine. He got what he deserved.”
“Yes he did. But Duane talked a lot too. He didn’t feel sorry for what he’d done. What kind of trouble he could cause you. He blamed you for sending him to prison.”
“I wasn’t going to lie to the cops like he’d wanted me to. I was done with that. I was young and I wanted my life back. I knew I’d never see my mother again.”
“I wanted to kill him. But your mother told me not to. She decided to run instead.”
“But you killed that man on the beach. I saw him.”
“There was no one to ask me to spare his life. You see, I’m not always the cold killer you’d like to believe. Besides, he was halfway to where he was going. Not much good to me if he was found alive by anyone. I only helped him along. I try to run a clean business.”
“Why didn’t you kill me?”
“I thought I would. But your strength surprised me. I wanted to talk to you but you were shivering too badly. You reminded me so much of your mother. For awhile I thought I was saving her from those incoming waves.”
“So you’re the one who built the fire…touched me when I couldn’t move.”
“You would have died if I’d left your clothes on. That cut on your leg…”
“You bastard.”
Cyclops nodded meekly. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have done it. But I couldn’t stop myself. You remind me of your mother.”
He offered her a water bottle and she tore it from his hand. While she drank he stood and walked up the drive to the highway. There was no one coming. Hadn’t been anyone since the blue Skylark had blown past, the driver’s face too deep in shadow. If the bridge was closed, where had he gone?
The town’s asleep again. There won’t be anyone else coming. You can do whatever you want…
He heard the first dogs yipping from a nearby hallow. There were never many at first. Until the others heard them and answered their call. They were on their way. Wanting to be in on the chase. Wanting to be in on the kill.
There were stars visible above the serrated ridge to the north and Cyclops watched them as they were snuffed out by black invisible clouds. It reminded him of a spreading plague, of how quickly the glimmer of our lives can be taken away forever.
After a few minutes he walked back to Ann and leaned against the concrete building where the old man once sold fish bait and steamed crabs. He looked down at his knife. Couldn’t recall how long he’d been holding it in his hand.
“There’s another storm coming,” he told her.
“I’m not going to talk to you about the weather. If you’re going to do it, then get it over with.”
Cyclops folded the knife and put it away. He reached up with both hands and pulled back his filthy hair. A train of high clouds began to haul overhead, passing across the moon. He kept his head tilted upwards, as if he were drawing heat from an invisible sun. His single eye catching the fading moonlight.
“Can we talk about the elk first?”