Walkthrough
Chapter Twelve
“What the fuck, dude! Is she alive?”
“What do you care? But, since you asked, yeah, I’m old-fashioned that way. Everyone knows Romeo dies first. Speaking of, did you find little Lord Fauntleroy?” said Wade, making a sandwich and opening up an IPA from the fridge.
Aldo was still looking at the twisted body on the floor, trying to detect any signs of life.
“Hey! Did you find the little rat fuck or not?” said Wade, slamming the bottle down on the table.
“Two pings at the 800 block of Hudson, then it went black. There’s a motel, subway station, and the I-95 overpass on that block.”
“My guess, he’s holed up in the flophouse. What’s the drive time from there?”
“Saturday night traffic with a game downtown, 45 minutes give or take.”
“Alright, here’s the plan. The little fucker is going to come into the house to see mommy dying and lose his shit.”
“He usually parks in back and comes in from the alley,” said Aldo.
“Okay, good to know. I’ll sweet talk him a bit and see if he’ll break down and cry. If not, I’ve got a taser. You come in from behind and shoot his dumb-ass under the chin from the right side. Then shoot her in the temple and we put your coat and gloves on him. We should be out of here in two minutes. Then we swing by the general’s house to pick up the videos from the basement.”
“What the fuck Wade, we don’t have time for housecleaning.”
“The DUMPY is boxing it all up for us as we speak. We load the van and drive the fuck off into the sunset. Tomorrow when the news reports the general’s untimely demise, DUMPY will kill herself, by then we’ll be halfway to Eastern Europe. Do you have any idea how far 500 million will go in Slovenia?”
Rita coughed.
“See, I told you Juliette was still alive. What, you’re not getting cold feet on me? You’re supposed to be the best man at mine and Amy’s wedding.”
“Don’t worry about me,” said Aldo, cocking his pistol.
“Did you see anything?” asked Master Yasuda.
“Aldo, out back with gun, Wade watching TV… dumb show.”
“The third guy?” said Master Yasuda, holding up three fingers.
Yellow San shook her head.
“That would be James. I tried to get him to help me. Maybe he had a change of heart.”
“Maybe,” said Master Yasuda.
“Did you see my mother?”
Yellow San wouldn’t answer, but even in the low light I could see her tears.
“Let’s take those fuckers out,” I said between my clenched jaws.
“Stop, dying foolishly has no valor. They are waiting for you in the back, so go through the front. Yellow San and I will take care of the back. You sneak in, look for a weapon, stay low, and watch your shadow and your reflection,” said Master Yasuda, holding my arm in his forceful grip. He shook me a little to drive home the point, and it worked. I agreed to be careful.
Yellow San and Master Yasuda disappeared into the night, black on black. I walked up the neighbor’s yard, staying in shadows until slipping between the hedges and crossing in front of the garage. The front door looked ajar, though it wouldn’t take much to make an alarm. A bottle or a trashcan leaning against it, just out of sight, would be enough. I opted to go through my window. Having four stepfathers, I’ve had plenty of experience sneaking into and out of my home.
I had glanced through my room for something, anything, to use as a weapon. All I could find was a baseball that I put into a gym sock. I quietly snuck up behind Wade’s half bald head.
“Anything good?” I asked.
In blinding speed Wade leapt from the couch, screaming like a girl. He stuck the landing, clearing the coffee table. We both looked at the taser beside the half empty beer.
“Better make it count,” said Wade, jumping from side to side inching closer to the taser. “What do you got, what do you got, come on boy, come on!”
In the corner of my eye, I saw Yellow San slipping into the kitchen, using Wade’s taunts to mask any noise as she positioned herself. At the last moment when she made her charge, I looked Wade in the eyes and said, “Fuck you.”
Yellow San’s spinning back kick sent her small heel slashing through the air as fast as any war hammer, pounding Wade’s kidney, and dropping him to his knees. She used the recoil to propel herself into a stepping punch, using the momentum to throw her entire body weight into a point smaller than a deck of cards. She landed her punch squarely as instructed on Wade’s vertebra at the base of the skull.
I heard a loud yip, a crack, and a whimper as Wade’s head slowly twisted and jerked down at an unnatural angle with a couple of big lumps under the skin. The sight of Wade’s spasms brought me back to reality.
“Fuck… you’re not dead!” I said.
Wade rolled his eyes toward me.
“You fucking worthless piece of shit, you 200 pound turd! How does it feel to know that Yellow San kicked your fucking ass? Go to Hell, you son of a bitch! Go to mother-fucking Hell!”
I thought I sounded like a tough guy until I realized that Master Yasuda and Yellow San were both holding me up. Master Yasuda sat me down on the couch with Yellow San at my side. I wasn’t screaming. I was sobbing with tears rolling down the sides of my face.
Master Yasuda gave Wade’s head a sharp twist, killing him instantly. Then, after snapping his fingers in Yellow San’s face, he went to look at mom’s body.
“She’s alive,” he said.
“She’s alive? Oh my god, she’s alive! Guys, we can do this,” I said, running for my medic kit and backboard.
The kitchen turned into our emergency room. Mom looked bad. Somehow, Master Yasuda found IVs and an oxygen bottle with a regulator and breathing. I put a neck brace on her just to be safe. I spent some time on her broken nose, with the swelling and discoloration it looked awful, but it felt straight. The damage to her ocular socket and broken teeth would take someone with greater skills than me, fortunately neither of those were life threatening.
It was nearly daybreak before I stabilized mom and transferred her to her bed, hooking her up to my laptop monitor.
“You’ll make a good doctor,” said Master Yasuda, handing me and Kiko a tea.
“I want to save lives.”
“What about her life?” he said, looking at Kiko.
“I can get rid of the two men in exchange for one woman. I promise you she will be in caring hands.”
“Will you let her hair grow back?”
“If that’s what she wants.”
“What do you want, Kiko?” I said, but I couldn’t tell if she understood. I put Kiko’s hand in Master Yasuda’s and said to him, “Give her a home, with Japanese language, Japanese food, and Japanese clothes, help her feel whole. If it doesn’t work out, she will always have a home with me.”
As we loaded Aldo and Wade in the van, Kiko kept acting more and more depressed about leaving.
“Can you explain to her I’m not throwing her away, that I like her, and I am grateful for her help? I just think you can give her a better life.”
They spoke to each other for a quiet moment until Kiko hugged me happily.
“I’m not gone. I plan on joining the Dojo,” I said, waving goodbye.
“Good, I could use a medic,” said Master Yasuda as they drove off.