Right as he came out of the special room, Justin found Stone leisurely lingering in the hallway. Spine and right foot flat against a wall facing the door, eyes sinister yet complacent. When, in turn, he saw Justin, Stone looked at his watch and came off the wall in a rather elegant motion.
“Ah woulda thought you’d last longer in there, boy,” he said. “But it’s just as well.”
Justin said nothing, and his silence was met with a sardonic grin from Stone.
“Alright, let’s have it!”
The man extended an open hand, rugged by hardship, but marked by cheap manicure. Justin furrowed inside his pocket and came out with the velvet pouch. He dropped it right in Stone’s palm:
“There you go,” he said.
Then he looked at Stone as if he was going to add something. But he didn’t. He moved along instead, an overt smile of contempt across his face, realizing he’d definitely strayed way too far off to end up here and cross paths with men like Stone. Men so full of it… And as Justin walked away – and because he knew Stone was watching – he rubbed his hands and buried them deep in his pockets.
Suzy came out an instant later. She came out when Stone was about to peek inside the pouch. Her eyes conspicuously fell on it.
“What is that?” She said. She then gave him a hard look. “Is this why you asked me to hook up with that boy?”
Stone palmed the pouch, thus asserting the important value of its contents.
“Boys got their needs too,” he said with sarcasm. “But really, how terrible was that, huh?”
“This is a new low, even for you, Stone.” Suzy vented her repressed outrage right in his face. “A boy like that… I mean, are you really this rotted through and through?”
“For Christ’s sake –– quit bustin’ my balls and go get ready for yuh routine.”
Stone gesticulated his annoyance and started away, conscious of evading a brewing argument he wasn’t in the mood for. And given the direction it was going, he would’ve probably gotten violent if Suzy kept shooting her mouth off like that. And she always picked the perfect times to be mouthy. So he withdrew himself from her presence, the velvet feel of the pouch tickling at his palm. There was this fascinating temptation to just pull it open at once and behold the golden ball again, if only for a few seconds. But Stone resisted the urge as long as there were people around. And so he headed to his office. When he finally got there, he shut the door and slid in behind his desk. Then avidly, like a greedy child opening a Christmas present, he poured the ball out onto his palm –– and was literally struck dead upon skin contact with the mysterious object.
Half an hour later, Stone was found, slumped over his desktop. Near his skin-burnt corpse was the empty velvet pouch. The golden ball was already gone…
It was while on his way to the rooftop to take a smoke and just chill out – after sitting through another hour-block of song recording with Daren and Co. since their return from break – that the idea began to creep into his mind. And by the time Greco Barnett emerged outdoors onto the roof garden of the building housing his studio, he was no longer thinking of it as an idea, but rather as a plausible notion.
Maybe she’s pregnant…
He fumbled a cigarette out of its pack and lit up. A burning mixture of panic and excitement was coursing through his blood, rendering him all wanky.
God, that’s gotta be it. And those weird questions she was asking me about her body.
A troubled smile crossed his face, but Greco did not let it erupt into laughter. He knew he was alone on the roof, and could laugh his face off without disturbing anyone. But he did not do so in fear of later disappointment. After all, he could be wrong about Suzy being pregnant. And seeing him negate such a silver lining, I wished – I really did – I could just tell him and free him from his doubts.
Greco took a long, quiet pull on the cigarette, blowing out the smoke with wistful consistency. He saw the smoke billowing into small clouds and then dissipating out as a parallel to his own fading hopefulness. More than anything in the world, he really wanted her to be pregnant now. He thought of calling her up at the Penthouse and asking her straight out; but it was better to discuss this matter face-to-face, maybe over a candlelit dinner.
And if she’s not pregnant, we can explore the subject if she’s down for it, he told himself. But if she is, God if she’s pregnant, then – then what?
He stubbed out the cigarette butt. Then, we can start thinking about the future… our future… our life together.
Suddenly, Greco’s eyes involuntary caught a glimpse of something off yonder sitting at one end of the rooftop; something minute, yet dazzling in the sun. He treaded over to it, and was stunned when his gaze fully embraced the mighty shine of the golden ball. Greco looked the thing over: it hung precariously on a decorative support bracket protruding beyond the edge of the roof.
How on earth did you get there, huh? He wondered. A magnificent piece of jewelry like you…
Utterly enthralled, Greco didn’t give much thought to his course of action. Following a bold impulse, he simply tottered forward… to the edge... tried to secure the position of his feet upon the eave… eased down on his knees… one hand keeping him steady… the other reaching…out… further out… nearly touching… nearly…
We’re almost there; just a little stretch and…
All of a sudden, his heart skipped when he felt his weight tipping off balance.
Head down, Greco cried out as he fell…
A few more blocks down and he would hit the bridge, leaving the city limits behind. Mr. Bagley glanced at the speedometer on the dashboard. He was very cautious not to break any more traffic laws.
Through the windshield, the sky was a dismal powder blue to the north. And that’s where he was heading; intent on living however he could manage with a terminal cancer eating away at his insides. But still, he’d go on remembering certain things, forgetting others, and dreaming of the life he’d never had with Lillian…
As a matter fact, he was already feeling the dream right now, all around him… Lillian was accompanying him to his final destination… where they’d resume their ride from forty years ago… And this time around, there’d be no deadly surprise on the road…
Something with two legs and two arms came crashing down hard on the car’s hood; the vehicle skidded out of control, screeched on the blacktop, and rammed full-on into a small shop, tearing half the place down in an explosive crump of glass shattering, metal ripping, and cement crumbling.
Soon after, the first eyewitnesses huddled around the scene of the havoc. In the cabin, the airbag had cushioned the driver’s head, and a blood trail was trickling from his hairline. The old man wasn’t moving at all. But he didn’t look dead; only knocked out maybe.
The car itself had sustained heavy damage, too: its frame was either dented or jarred in numerous spots; the rear end being one of them, with the trunk lid slightly pried off.
And when people realized what was in the trunk, a form of general paralysis took hold. The same questions were flying from mouth to mouth:
Who was the woman? Was she dead? Was she alive?
Then, the bystanders saw a feeble body movement; they heard the rustle of plastic as if her limp hand was trying to remove it. Someone immediately volunteered to assist. The plastic sheet was removed, and the woman was carefully pulled out of the trunk. Paramedics were apparently on their way over… And she had a good fighting chance, somebody said.
Unfortunately, you couldn’t say the same about the man near the shop doorway. The man who had fallen from the sky, and who now lay dead in a puddle of blood, with his head half crushed and his limbs broken…
Chapter XXVI
FINAL DECLARATION:
JUSTIN AND SOLENE TALK IT OUT