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“I need you to appear before Judge Whaler in Blossom City Superior Court,” directed Blair. As the managing partner for the firm, his directives to an associate were like a general’s orders. “I’m representing the ‘Kiddie Ripper’ up there and I need you to appear at the status conference.”

“Let me guess, ‘Kiddie Ripper’s up for child rape,” replied Kevin with a hint of sarcasm. Maxim Law Offices had represented the ‘Kiddie Ripper’ for a long, long time. He paid his substantial retainer regularly, and in return Blair kept him off the S.O.L., the Sexual Offenders List, and out of jail. It also helped considerably that the “Kiddie Ripper” held powerful positions in both county government and the LDS Church. Up in the sparsely occupied North, he belonged to the untouchable class.

“Yes,” smirked Blair. “Seven counts of Child Rape One, seven counts of Kidnapping Two, and one hundred fifty-two counts of Possessing Child Porn,” he intoned. “Dave has already posted $10,000 cash bail for him, so he’s out. You just need to make sure he shows up and the trial is postponed until Dave can interview all the ‘witnesses’.” The firm’s in-house private investigator, Dave, a product of MI-6, was considerably more resourceful and lethal than his grandfatherly appearance would indicate.

“What time?”

“Morning Felony Docket, same bat-time, same bat-place.”

“Where do I find ‘Kiddie Ripper’?”

“He better be their on time–he’s first up. Otherwise, he gets his ass plastered all over The Tribune.”

“Cool.”

“Shelley has the file.”

Kevin has a long, six-hour drive to Blossom City, too far to manage the day of the hearing. Usually that didn’t matter, but a lot of trouble had been taken to shield “Kiddie Ripper” from the public and so time was of the essence. The Road would take him over, by a small ferry, Dead Presidio Lake, which was famed for its ice-blue deep color and its fantastic depth. Once upon a time, the Road, a rural, two-lane highway, ran straight across the wetlands over a causeway, but the Presidio had had the valley flooded to a depth of over a thousand feet. The span of water was way too vast for a bridge, and the perimeter of Dead Presidio Lake was way too lengthy to efficiently drive around. At least the ferry ride was free. He’d get started after lunch while the sun was still high in the sky. The docket would be the next day–Friday the Thirteenth.

Kevin surprised himself with the ease with which his wife Barbara “lent” him the 4Runner(tm). Usually, she insisted on keeping the SUV so that she could go around and gossip with her friends or go shopping at “Nordy’s.” Never mind that Kevin now earned every red cent the couple had. Barbara hadn’t been a wage-earning prosecutor in more than a year.  But she had said, “Sure, honey” with a smile. For some reason, her smile troubled Kevin greatly.

He piled the file, a fresh suit, and himself into the SUV and headed off. Kevin thought of the Road as a boring drive through endlessly flat, featureless terrain. Just like his damned life.

Kevin had just passed the point where the main county highway “Y’ed” off to the left and onto the Road. The Road here was an empty, featureless strech of two-lane blacktop, bordered on both sides by the stubble of harvested wheat as far as the eye could see. It ran all the way to Dead Presidio Lake like this with not a bend nor a dip to break the emptiness. Time for Kevin to think, always too much time was given to him to think on the Road.

In his mind, his marriage leapt first and foremost, unbidden. His greatest disaster was his marriage. His mind flinched, and he was aware of an almost imperceptible softening of the horizon above the Road. There was nothing unusual about this to him–there always existed a haze above Dead Presidio Lake. “Not a car in sight,” he reassured himself.

But Kevin’s marriage lay beyond consoling. Barbara was even more sadistic than her name implied. She existed only as a bundle of demands always to be satiated. She seldom offered anything of herself anymore. True, Kevin still passionately loved her. A love she returned with her fists and her vile wit, always ready to take advantage of a good man’s conditioning that striking a woman was worse than death. Just last night she had peppered his chest with her knotted fists. All this from his love because he “only” made $4,800 this month. “What does it take to make her happy, really happy?” he demanded of himself. He had no answer.

He hated being Blair’s errand-boy. Kevin had been a loyal associate of Maxim Law Offices for nearly three years now, and yet he still had only a part-time secretary and a tiny little office that used to be the cloakroom back when the building had been the biggest whorehouse in town. But that was the way of it: junior attorneys existed solely to provide “leverage” to senior attorneys so that the partners could rake in the money while the associates baked in all the work. “Strange,” Kevin observed to himself. “I haven’t seen any signs lately. I must have missed them.” He’d miss the work more. Another four years, at least, before he had any chance of making junior partner. Another four years of hell . . ..

It was then that Kevin noticed that the Road seemed to float on a sea–was is wheat or water? The Road didn’t reach the horizon; it slowly faded into the “sea.” Kevin felt himself slowing, the SUV slowing down. Accelerating did no good–the SUV simply kept slowing down on the Road.

But the 4Runner(tm) didn’t stop–Kevin would never stop–people depended on him and he was one to honor his commitments. He started to notice that it was getting a little hard to breath, and the heater seemed to have gone strangely cold, causing a chill to rush through the SUV.

It was getting still more difficult to breath, but Kevin was doggedly determined to reach his destination. He wouldn’t let mere physical discomforts stop him. He would cross over the road; nothing was going to stop him! Then black . . ..

DATELINE (Dead Presidio Lake)–Witnesses all report that they had never seen anything like it. A well-dressed man driving a dark green Toyota 4Runner(tm) drove right down the Road and off the ferry into the lake without the slightest hesitation. The Kennedy County Sheriff said that recovery of the SUV was “improbable” give the great depth of Lake Dead Presidio. No body has surfaced, and many locals have speculated that the mysterious driver had already passed through the spinning turbine blades and on to the sea.

DATELINE (Blossom County Superior Court)–The man known as the “Kiddie Ripper” implicated Judge Whaler in open court today as his accomplice in a child slavery and pornography ring that has apparently been operating inside a local church for more than thirty years. Judge Whaler, on hearing this, recused himself from further hearings in the matter, retired to his chambers, and discharged both barrels of a sawed-off 12 guage filled with water into his chest. Details at Eleven . . ..

Barbara was jubilant . . . with the payout of the ten million dollar policy Kevin had on his life, she was rich beyond her wildest dreams. Time to go to Nordy’s . . .

She would have to get rid of the dog though. She hated the dog, Kevin’s favorite named “Stengal.” The dog reminded her of the worthless man she had been married to. All that distasteful sex, the anniversaries he always “surprised” her with (she loathed such predictable shows of affection), and the simple love letters Kevin constantly wrote to her. Just like the rubbing, the excited pose, and those warm, brown eyes that gazed up at her every day.

She wouldn’t miss him. She grabbed her purse, made sure the credit cards were all in it, and prepared to “shop ’til she dropped,” as she liked to put it.

Copyright © 2007, 2008 by John Merryweather Cooper. All Rights Reserved.

This entry was posted on Friday, May 4th, 2007 at 11:35 am and is filed under Uncategorized, Family, Job, Fiction, Short Story. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.