Read Yesterday's Darkness Page 3


  Garcia sat perfectly still with a stoned face expression and beaded eyes that never blinked even once. Finally the only thing he moved was his hand and with it he used his thumb and index finger to mimic a gun. He aimed the index finger directly at Mike and lowered the thumb.

  Mike’s normally sharp senses instantly faltered in tossed disarray. The club’s constantly cool interior temperature failed to reach Mike as his body perspired heavily. The vision of Garcia blurred as if Mike’s brain tried to erase reality.

  He swallowed hard to present some semblance of moisture in his throat. The silence erases as the club noise filled his head to create a migraine that stubbornly remained in place. Worst of all, was the anomalous sensation that his soul was now darkly shadowed.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  A faint feeling overcame Mike. His mind struggled with veracity as it fought the impossibility of the presence of Garcia. Mike’s entire existence projected into a black hole of consciousness. He physically shook his body hard trying to snap out of the sudden onset of shock.

  Thoughts, visual distractions, and the sounds throughout the club all occurred simultaneously. Is this possible? A couple of the kitchen workers rushed over to clean up the spill from the advertising bottle display. Distance voices called out to Mike with indistinguishable requests or questions. His senses collided then dispersed in confusion.

  Club issues called for his attention but were unconsciously if not deliberately ignored. Once again the crowd circling the stage fused together to totally obstruct the view to Garcia.

  A strong level of constant disturbance swirled in his head. Surrounding sounds faded or exploded in unbalanced levels. Glasses clinked together like shattering windows and light laughter trumpeted like multiple amplified horns across the room. Voices right next to him seemed so low that he could hardly hear the words while light whispers exploded over the din of the crowd noise.

  His body would not budge. His well exercised muscles locked up as memories of his past consumed him. In an instant, he once again became oblivious to his surroundings as his mind paralyzed all of his physical abilities.

  The possibility of disabling himself from a frozen state increased with the consumption of counter productive thoughts. Before any true awareness touched him, he sliced through the crowd tunneling toward Garcia while brushing by hundreds of bodies.

  The bodies of the people packed inside of the club so close that they could have easily felt the handgun beneath Mike’s jacket. Mike’s drive came from a rarely utilized power buried deep inside of his soul. He tapped into that power and used it to get to the man that he thought ─ or rather prayed ─ that he would never see again.

  Reactions worked totally off of his trained instincts. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind spontaneity triggered a reaction that took complete control. Something beyond his own body dominated his actions as Mike propelled customer after customer aside to make his way to Garcia.

  The crowd soon started to part on its own. A path cleared, opening a final opportunity to put an end to his past. Mike removed his weapon aiming it forward through the crowd disregarding any safety concerns.

  The closer he got to Garcia the faster his heart raced. Patrons dove out of his path leaving an even wider lane to get to his target. The moisture on the handle of the weapon increased as the sweat rose between his palm and the tight grip. His reactive mindset continued to push his actions into motion.

  Contemplation, planning, or second guessing his intentions never surfaced at any level. The decision, as it were, materialized before he even became consciously aware of it. His fears were going to be faced and ended.

  The club filled in complete disarray. Panicked club goers screamed running into one another and falling on to the floor. Their voices bounced against the sounds already blasting from the six foot tall speakers. The band continued to play completely unaware of what was developing below the elevated stage.

  The haunting drum beat and lyrics slithered though the venue as Pink Floyd’s tune Learn to Fly pressed the bass woofers to capacity. Screams of approval chanted from a range of locations within the club. For Mike, the poignant composition only managed to carve another unneeded mark in his long-term memory.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Mike’s chest pounded as he charged full speed toward the area where Garcia was seated. His body consumed with a madden determination locked on ending the nightmare that had secretly haunted him for years. His unyielding focus edged on madness.

  The trance like state settled like a visitation from an old friend with a bad history. Mike locked in on Garcia and nothing was going to stop him from getting to him. This time it has to end. The thought of finally facing the foe that troubled his principles remained in his head throughout the entire sprint.

  Mike could not see into the VIP area clearly but maintained his tenacity. He knew that each step got him closer although he had no idea what to expect once he arrived at his mark. He drove forward along the edge of the dance floor. He was close now, very close. Just a few more steps, past the railing, and a hop across the elevated platform and he would once again face the man who dominated Mike’s worse nightmares.

  No preconceived plan came to his head. With one final fluid motion Mike leaped over the railing to arrive at the table where Garcia was seated. To his dismay the view remained blocked. This time Kelly obstructed his path with her back turned to Mike.

  The dimly lit area grew even darker as the stage lighting changed to set the mood. The group preformed final part of Pink Floyd song with intensity. The vibrations of the speakers pounded against Mike’s ears but he ignored it.

  With no time for pleasantries, Mike swept his large arm across Kelly pushing her to one side. The shove unintentionally moved Kelly a little harder then Mike actually wanted. Emotions ran high.

  He could not contain his actions. The flow of adrenaline directed his overzealous response. With the other arm he swung the pistol around aiming it in the spot where Garcia glared at him from across the room.

  Kelly stumbled to the side trying to maintain her balance. Her serving tray tittered in one hand as she flared her arm out franticly. The tray flew from her hand as she grabbed the railing just before crashing against a nearby table.

  The area bathed in flashing dark green, red, and blue lights. Smoke effects forced shadows all around while casting a gray blanket across the circular tables. The lighting glowed and faded to the rhythm of the song that roared from the speakers in unfiltered levels. The drum’s bass pedal vibrated the walls with the heavy thump from the ghostly tempo.

  Even with Kelly out of the way, seeing through the smoke was not easy. The preset timing of the stage effects placed another dense spray of fog in the VIP section. As the Pink Floyd lyrics surged from the across the room, the fog rose in a horizontal clearance allowing more visibility. On the table sat several hundred dollar bills, a still lit cigarette, and on the other side… Garcia’s empty seat.

  Mike twisted his head 180 degrees intensely scanning the area. On the elevated platform he could see across the sea of people that occupied the dance floor. Instantly he spotted the tall figure standing at the far exit with the mist emitted from the fog machines eerily surrounding him.

  Garcia’s arrogant expression of pretentiousness flowed across his face. His head almost equaled the upper level of the door’s entry and his dark clothing added to the ominous appearance of a modern day grim reaper. He remained still, looking directly at Mike.

  The expression on Garcia’s face moved to stone. His eyes narrowed to the edge of blinking. Mike felt his nerves freeze from Garcia’s stare. Mike felt as if Garcia tried to decipher his inner thoughts from across the room.

  Garcia’s forehead wrinkled slightly then relaxed. Through the dim lighting and fog Mike returned Garcia’s glare but his heart still raced.

  Deep and slow bass drum rhythms pounded the air. Roger Water’s lyrics slid over the top of the tempo seducing the melody’s hidden grasp. For Mi
ke the sound symbolized a musical threshold to something unworldly. The music caressed Garcia’s cold stare to a point where it caused Mike to ponder his own spirituality. Something about Garcia placed a distance between Mike and anything pure or sacred.

  The visual standoff felt like an eternity. Garcia held his stare as he placed another cigarette in his mouth and lit it. He took a contemplated draw from the end then held the smoke inside before releasing it slowly from his lips that seemed to never open. The smoke lifted into the air spreading widely then wandering outside through the opened front door entrance.

  The scene was like a well rehearsed presentation. Garcia clearly commanded the virtual stage in this solo performance of intimidation. He mastered the head game and Mike knew it. Mike completed a lot of research on this man and knew that Garcia thrived on taking a psychological advantage of every situation.

  But was this one of those situations? Mike wondered if Garcia was calculating and analyzing him right now by playing the silent odds. Mike preformed some calculations of his own. Garcia stood too far away so firing a weapon across the crown was not an option.

  Garcia’s icy glare altered into a Mona Lisa smile. Yet this grin actually signified the portrait of a threat. With the burning cigarette balanced between his lips, he spread his arms wide apart. Mike knew exactly what he was taunting with the jester. Go ahead hot shot…take a shot at me. Garcia arched an eyebrow and smirked as if to say, yeah I knew you wouldn’t shoot.

  As calm as a casual stroll in the park, Garcia turned and walked out of the front entrance. Just as suddenly as he appeared, he vanished and blended into the Dallas night.

  No time remained to give chase. With the distance and the crowd a pursuit would be futile. Mike stood in the VIP section placing his hands on his head then jerking them down hard bathed in the multi colored lights.

  In the darkness the words from the song settled on Mike invading the former self imposed mental silence. His sweat drenched clothing felt the chill of the blowing air condition streaming from the vents. His heart beat finally slowed to a reasonable pace. The once rapid breathing eased to the song’s slower tempo.

  “…just an earth bond misfit…I”

  Many questions rushed into Mike’s head. How did Garcia find him after eighteen years? Why was Garcia there? Was this a coincidence or a planned appearance? And finally, if Garcia knew that he worked at the Memphis Bar in Addison Texas, why not just wait outside and kill him after the club closed in stead of the grand standing?

  * * *

  Outside the club, Garcia and his men sat in the back of the ten passenger limo. Garcia thoughtfully looked out of the side tinted window at the Memphis nightclub as the limo pulled out of the parking lot. The car drove onto Beltline road before merging with the traffic. In a dry slightly accented tone he spoke out loud but to no one in particular.

  “Hell has arrived, Mr. Andrews.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Mike normally enjoyed the drive home of the isolated time to unwind. This time the drive contained an extra passenger so the quiet time used to reflect on business affairs, the next day’s agenda, was interrupted. Mike reluctantly insisted on sharing this ride with his employee. He refused to allow Kelly to drive home.

  Kelly jerked the seatbelt over her then snapped it in the buckle. “I could have driven myself Mike,” she said as Mike placed the car in drive. “What you think that this is the first time I had a couple of drinks at work? Please! Had a hell of a lot more then tonight and got home fine.”

  Mike cut is eyes toward her but keep his intended response to himself. The conversation, of lack there of, remained one sided. Occasionally words sprinkled within the silence when Kelly guided the small talk toward work related issues.

  “When you gonna hire another waitress?” Kelly said.

  “Not sure, have to make sure the numbers remain steady first,” Mike answered.

  “You know there’s an after hours spot just south of here,” Kelly nudged. “Right now is the best time to go.”

  “Uh hu,” Mike with a dismissive tone.

  He heard everything she said but at the same time discarded it to a subconscious file. He couldn’t focus on her words, his head flooded with dark prevalent thoughts making him incapable of fully indulging in any real dialogue.

  Just to ease the tension, Mike started to say something but stopped himself again. Forget it. He felt concerned that Kelly misunderstood his silence by taking it as a signal that she was not welcomed and had intruded into his private world. He now regretted insisting he drove her home. Should had just sprung for a cab, he thought.

  Words remained as scarce as the streets of Dallas as they travel through the city. The streets mirrored the emptiness Mike felt coming from deep in his soul. The emptiness had nothing to do with Kelly but everything to do with his past.

  “Are you upset with me?” Kelly probed.

  Mike hesitated to answer. “No Kelly, nothing like that.”

  He could see Kelly considering his words as she leaned her head from one side to the other. He also knew that she was aware that something was wrong; like most of the staff, she knew him too well. The wide space between their short conversations became too wide even for Mike.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Ok seriously Mike, are you pissed with me for falling down?” Kelly said. Her irritated tone moved far past the point of being cordial.

  Kelly tapped Mike lightly on his broad shoulder when he didn’t respond. The physical touch pulled Mike out of his trance like state. He jerked his head in her direction he was so deep in thought that he almost forgot that she was even in the car. He looked through her instead of at her.

  Kelly cupped her hands over her mouth. “Earth to Mike, Earth to Mike, come in Mike are you there?”

  His mental wheels turned in an attempt to verbalize a reply. He forced a smile. The non-verbal reply served as just enough to break the ice and ease the tension.

  As she watched Mike he felt his face travel through a series of contortions. The smile weakened then faded. A far away gaze took control of his eyes then transformed into an intense demeanor. A few seconds later the muscles in his face relaxed as he removed his previous thoughts attached to Garcia.

  “I really wish I could hear what is going on in that head of your’s?” Kelly said.

  “No you don’t,” Mike said flatly.

  “Oh yes I do. I want to crack that code of silence that you hold on to so tight.”

  She brought this observation to Mike’s attention. He never thought about it but she was right and had to admit that the embraced his inner thoughts with guarded determination. He considered it was normal until Kelly brought it to light but it was not something he would ever release anything soon.

  On the surface Mike played the role of a social open book but somehow Kelly knew better. She constantly nudged him to open up knowing that more existed beneath the surface. He braced himself knowing that she was about to start again.

  “Ok Mr. Andrews I always knew that you like to keep to yourself. I figured that there was a lot more to you then just making sure that everyone else was happy by exchanging casual conversations.”

  Clearly Kelly was interested in the internal structure. He managed to keep his deeper concerns hidden and no matter how much she probed, he was certain that it would not change. He did have to admire her deeper interest in him.

  Her curiosity in everyone always went beyond any shallow levels. Now with Mike she pounced on the opportunity to fuel the flame. He had unwilling showed his hand and she saw the distinct change in him that tempted her to dig deeper.

  Several attempts at more idol chat drastically failed as Mike passively responded with short answers. The answers, or lack there of, were about as warm as the help tab on a computer program. She eventually conceded and settled with the uncomfortable silence.

  This was not the Mike she knew, and he knew it. He always had the ability to place even the most stressful days as
ide then indulge in any conversation but couldn’t do it now. The boss all of his employees knew never allowed anything to bother him. His constant upbeat disposition made him the go to person for his employees and friends to take all of their problems.

  Perhaps his even tempered persona was beginning to show cracks. Kelly fidgeted in her seat releasing frustrated breaths.

  “Ok Michael I get it now. I guess I need to step back and realize that I’m not really an expert on Mr. Michael. I could have driven myself home you know.”

  “What are you talking about Kelly?”

  “Oh come on now. I’ve known you for over two months now and you know that I consider you more of a friend then a boss just like everyone else who works at your bar. Since I moved from my hometown in Boise, you are still the closest friend I have in Dallas.”

  “Ok that is nice to hear but what is your point?”

  “My point is…I can tell when something is not right.”

  Mike felt for her. Few opportunities to meet many people existed for a single girl in a new city as big as Dallas. The job she originally acquired at Hooters unexpectedly fell through with a disappointing thump. She told him the horrific story about how after working only a few days at the restaurant, she discovered that a couch interview was required to fully get the position.

  “So maybe I need to put you on more day shifts so you can get out more.”

  “Yeah right. So I can run into another one like the manager at Hooters? I don’t think so.”

  “What happened with that anyway? You never told me, did you just walk out and quite?”

  “Sort of but before I left he discovered the hard way that his new little waitress didn’t like being cornered with a hand up her skirt. I kneed him right where he needed to be and that ended the interview. After that I stumped out of the room but could hear him screaming soprano.”

  Mike watched as Kelly smiled recalling the day she stomped away from Hooters. “That was the same day that I spotted the help wanted sign at the Memphis bar. So with nothing to lose she went for it.”

  “I see. I guess that is why I detected a little attitude at first when I interviewed you.”