In the Mirror part 3 of 3

Steve tried his best to concentrate on his work. The crew had been working on the new arena for months now, and his boss was vocally proud of how ahead of schedule they were. So in return they hd to deal with a taskmaster. Anyone who was slacking on this job got the boot. Even a 12 year veteran, The fat prick was gunning for a promotion,  so everyone was kept on their heels.

Steve couldn’t help but find the irony. Not one facet of his life was untouched by fear and stress. No matter where he was in his daily routine, comfort was absent. Only sleep held a momentary relief, which is why he slept so often these days. Ten hours a night became normal, and the Nyquil was restocked weekly. There was no respite from his pain, from his mind. All day long he labored in despair. But now it was even worse, because the thought of losing it all, of losing Bri, was not simply just a I hope that never happens feeling of lofty warning, but was now a solidifying it’s happening now reality.

Up against it all he couldn’t help feeling that losing his job would be a minor blow. Normally that concept would be horrifying. Despite his many failings Steve had always been a dependable worker, respected and loyal. But now it hardly seemed to matter. He would still come every day and do his best, but the threat held little ground in his mind these days.

After his shift Steve sat in his car, hopelessly unsure of where to go. The Nyquil bottle called, his new booze, but Christ it was only 6pm.

“Hey Zahn!” yelled a voice outside his window. Steve rolled it down to see one of his old buddies running up to the door.

“What’s up Phil?”

“Hey listen man, I know you’s not tossin’ em back anymore, and I respect that. But I figured I’d just let you know we’s all headin down to Crease’s. You’s don’t have to have anything ta drink, nobody’s gonna say nothin’, just though it would be nice to see ya with the boys. We miss ya. Wanna come and shoot some pool?”

Steve’s heart dropped even further, if that was possible. Phil was being sincere, but he also knew that Phil was incapable of understanding,  and that hurt. He could never be around those guys and not take a drink. He’s crack in an instant, and he knew it. Phil would see it as an expression of dislike.

“I appreciate it, but can’t tonight bro.”

Phil looked at Steve a moment longer, and nodded.

“All right. See you’s tomorrow.”

Steve started the ignition and headed home.



Instead of the Nyquil, Steve just stared at him. The cut remained, the few drops of blood still idling across the boy’s cheek, the bruise black as pitch.

In the living room he half-heard the phone ringing. It sounded like a muffled tone from another world, Steve was lost in the eyes of his guest. The Mexican blinked and stared right back, fully content to share this moment. What finally broke him was the familiar sound of Karen’s voice,  leaving him a message. He began to break away, before noticing the Mexican’s left eye suddenly fill with red, as if he had been bludgeoned there directly. The pool swirled and took place. Steve ran out of the bathroom.

The message light was blinking, he hurriedly prssed the button to play the message.

“Hi Steve, it’s Karen. Listen, we need to talk. We’ve been discussing things, and I am feeling less and less comfortable with our arrangement here. Now I’m not saying anything yet, but when you have a sec please call me. It’s important.”

Click.

Steve stared at the phone like it was a cobra with its hood raised. His fingers began to shake, and he almost felt out-of-body, with the realization that his greatest fear was taking shape.

“She’s going to take her away from me.”

Steve picked up the receiver.





Father Pollick grunted as he pushed the final rep. The weights clanged on the bars, and he wiped the sweat off his face. He turned and grabbed his notebook.

“245…10 reps. Good,” he said, and slapped the book tight. He was reaching for the dumbbell when the phone rang. He paced down the hallway from his second bedroom/weightroom, and picked up the receiver in the kitchen.

“Hello?”

“Father Pollick.”

“Steve.What’s wrong?”

“She’s gonna do it,” Steve replied, trying unsuccessfully to hide his panic.

“She’s going to do what son?  Take a breath,” he replied, and sat down on the sofa.

“She’s gonna take her. She just left me a message saying she needed to talk.”

“Well now that doesn’t mean…”

“Vince. He told me,” Steve said.

“Vince is her boyfriend?”

“Yes! That fucking prick told me man to man he was going to convince karen to do it. He said I was a worthless drunk that would hurt her, and he couldn’t allow it!”

Pollick hesitated.

“Oh my Steve…”

“Oh my? Oh my? That’s all you’ve got to fucking say!”

“Steve, why don’t you come down here and we can talk about it. Or I can come there. Listen…”

“Did you hear me? She’s going to take my little girl,” Steve said, and Pollick could hear the tears wellling.

“Well now you don’t know that yet Steve. You need to call her, and discuss this calmly. You haven’t done anything to warrant this, right?”

“No. Well I did show up unannounced, but that wasn’t a big deal. I know Karen, she was pissed about it, but that sure as hell wasn’t enough to set her off on this. It’s Vince, I know it. He’s talked her into it and I don’t know what to do.”

“You have no choice but to call her Steve. The longer you stress about it the worse it will be. Call her. Talk about it. Tell her how well you’ve been doing and how much progress you’ve made.”

“She won’t hear any of that Fath…” Steve said, and then paused.

“Steve?” Father Pollick asked.

“Father, what if you called her? You could explain how well things have been going for me, she’d believe that coming from you.”

Pollick didn’t reply.

“You could tell her about all of our talks and how much I love Bri, and how committed I am to staying sober. Tell her how we went to Crease’s and just order water. Yes, you could tell her that!” Steve said.

More silence from Pollick. Steve could hear him sigh apprehensively.

“What?” he asked.

“Steve, listen. I want to help in any way I can, I really truly do, but calling on behalf of a single party in a domestic dispute may be stepping outside my bounds,” Father Pollick replied.

Steve was now silent.

“You there?”

“A single party?”

“Yes Steve, you.”

“I know what you fucking meant!”

“Okay, okay, now listen…”

“What’s the harm here Father? For Chrissakes you’ve been the sole, I don’t know, guide through this whole thing for me. All she knows is I’m trying, but you could explain it to her. Explain how hard I’m working and all the breakthroughs we’ve discussed. You could convince her that I am on the road to recovery and that all of her doubts are in vain! It would really mean something coming from you!”

“I-I understand that Steve, but it is not my role to play mediator between a couple in a situation like this. I want to councel you, but Steve really I can’t interfere with…”

“Jesus, it wn’t be a big deal, I’m not asking you to testify in court or something, I just need a little backup here. I’m going to lose her Father, do you understand? I’m going to lose her!”

Pollick was silent for a moment, then said, “Steve, why don’t you come down here and we’ll talk, huh?”

“Father, I don’t have time. I need to deal with this right now. Karen left the message a minute ago, I’m not going to wait a couple of hours to call back. But I need you here, man. Please, please I am asking a favor. I’m asking you to save my life. Will you please call her?”

“Steven, maybe the two of you could come down to my office and the three of us could…”

“Could what? Would you tell her that I’m not going to start drinking again?”

Father Pollick sighed. It was a hesitant sigh, a sigh that had just a pinch of guilt at the end. Steve noticed it., “Just…just have her come down with you…”

“Wait a minute,” Steve said.

“What?”

“Wait a minute here. You don’t believe me do you?”

“Believe you about what?” Pollick asked, afraid of what Steve was getting to.

“You don’t think I’m gonna stay sober, do you! You won’t call Karen because of some bullshit ethical boundary, you’re not going to call her because you don’t want to defend a man who you secretly think is gonna fuck up! Oh I see now, that would just be ungodly and immoral, right?”

“That is not what I am saying here,” Pollick said, but knew deep down that it was.

“You son of a bitch, you won’t back me up because deep down in that holy rollin’ heart of your you’d know you were defending a guilty man, you’d be backing the wrong horse, and that wouldn’t sit well with your boy Jesus now would it?”

“Now you listen here!” Pollick boomed from his end, his tone was authoratative and penetrating.

“No you listen you glorified pedophile! You stood by my side this whole time, preaching your bullshit and carrying that cross stick in your hand, and all the while you thought the scales were tipped the other way. I’m just another helpless drunk, doomed to crawl back to the bottle. I’m sure you feel pretty good, helping all us losers even though you know it’s for nothing. You just put in the hours, filling up that resume so you can hand it off to St. Peter and hope you get a good seat at God’s big floor show in the sky!”

“That’s enough out of you Steve! Enough! I will not stand here and be treated like a man who doesn’t care. A man who doesn’t care about you, Steve. You are so eager to throw blame, so easily manipulated into thinking we’re all out to get you, the whole world is after you. How many times have we talked about personal responsibility, huh? About facing up to what you’ve done, and what needs to be done. It’s time to stop the blame game here! It’s ripping you apart. I so feel for you my boy, I know your struggle with the drink, but I can’t even imagine what you’re going through with your child. I want to help, but Steve please understand, I can’t…”

“You forgot about the Mexican.”

“I’m sorry?”

“When you were listing my troubles there Father, you forgot to mention the goddamn Mexican in my mirror. Oh and by the way, interesting development. He’s injured now.”

“Injured?”

“Yeah. Big cut, bruised, eyes full of blood.”

“Steve, I don’t understand….”

“What don’t you understand? The damn spic is cut up,  getting worse every day.”

Silence from Pollick. He seemed to be thinking this over. The fact that the subject was changing just pissed Steve off even more.

Pollick sighed again.

“Father,” Steve said calmly, “Friend. Brother. Will you help me? Will you call Karen?”

“Steven, I can’t…”

“Then you can go to hell,” Steve replied, and hung up.





Karen heard the phone ring, but was otherwise occupied. With Brianna in bed she and Vince were taking advantage.

Afterwards she put on her robe and walked to the kitchen, Vince was nude on the bed, drifting to sleep. The message light was blinking on the phone. Karen sighed and pressed the button.

“Karen, it’s me. Please call me. You’re really scaring me here. I love Bri, and I love you. Please don’t…please don’t do this. Please. I want to come down there. If-if you want, that is. But I think we need to talk in person. Just-just call me. Thanks.”  Click.

Karen looked at her watch. 9:45pm. She really did not want him down there, not this late at night, not at all really. She knew it was her fault for scaring him, but God he just sounded so desperate. It scared her,. She could see an image of him pacing in his apartment, thin and panicked, with the phone in his hand. What would he do if she really took her away? He wouldn’t get violent, would he? Steve had raised his voice on countless occasions, but thankfully had never harmed her in any physical way. But she was wary of the man whose voice was sounded so frantic on the message. This was a man on the edge. An alcoholic on the edge.

She dialed the number. It rang once, then Steve picked up.

“Karen?”

“Come over tomorrow. Noon.”

Click.



Steve’s phone rang again, this time he didn’t answer. He knew it wasn’t Karen. As soon as the voicemail kicked in her heard Father Pollick say two words, before Steve ripped the machine from the wall and smashed it against the floor.

Tomorrow. Noon. So much time in between. Steve walked into his bedroom and grabbed for the Nyquil, only to find the bottle was empty. He had another bottle, which made Steve smile. It was in the medicine cabinet behind his bathroom mirror.

Steve went inside the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet quickly, seeing only a quick flash of the Mexican boy. He grabbed the bottle and closed the mirror.

The bruise was fully fresh, the gash in his face was wider still, and his eye still swam with blood. But in addition his left ear had been clipped, almost one-fourth of it was gome, what remained was a bloddy cleft, the red was moist but stationary. Of course his expression remained the same. Calm and neutral.

Steve twitched and drank nearly half the bottle, and collapsed in his bed.



“You can do this honey,” Vince said, rubbing Karen’s shoulders. It was 11:08am.

“I still don’t know what I’m doing,” she replied.

“You’re doing what’s best. We talked about this honey. If we’re going to start a life here the three of us, we need to know we can be stable. Stability leads to peace, and I know that’s something foreign to you. I want you to have peace. I want you to stop worrying about what’s going to happen tomorrow, I want you to start thinking about the future. School for Bri, college, vacations and dinner parties. Not midnight phone calls, unnanounced visits and drunken arguments. You deserve it Karen. I know this is going to be hard for you, but trust me,  it will all be over sooner than you think and then we can start our life together.”

Karen leaned her head against his shoulder, “He just loves her so much…”

“ I know babe. And he won’t be out of her life altogether. And we can tell him that as time goes by, if we are convinced his situation has improved, we can let up.”

“Do you really think he can, you know, improve?”

“I think so Karen. I’m not too fond of the man, as you know, but if he really loves her he will kick the habit.”

Karen sighed and checked her watch, “I’m just not sure if this is the right thing to do. I’m scared.”

“Are you scared because it will hurt him,  or are you scared because of how he might react?”

Karen stared and bit her lip. She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.

“That’s exactly why we have to do this,” Vince continued, “I can’t stand to see that look on your face anymore.”

The two of them sat together in silence after that. Vice stroked Karens hair as she stared at the floor, terrified of the impending scene that was about to take place in her living room. She couldn’t still the feeling of an inherant wrongness in their decision. She couldn’t put it into words, couldn’t even form a thought around it, but somewhere down deep she knew this was wrong. Steve was an ass, but in all honesty all the worrying over all the years, despite all the arguments and strong words between them, had really always been about what he might do, not what he had done. He might drop the baby, he might drive with her drunk, he might hit her. But he had never done any of those things. Karen felt a sharp guilt spreading, a guilt that suggested he didn’t deserve this. But Vince had seen these situations before, he sympathized but also was quick to point out that the worry will never go away. It will always be there, no matter what happens. And she loved him, she loved him so much and desperately wanted to start a new life with him. She let herself be convinced this was the only way to do it.

It was 11:47am. The doorbell rang.



Steve’s hands were shaking. He rang the doorbell again and felt a sudden need for a cigarette.

The door opened and Vince was before him, Karen was slung around his waist. She looked sad and scared. This wasn’t good.

“Come in Steve. Have a seat.”

Steve did as he was told and took a seat on the sofa opposite his wife and her lover. He said no a word, and was compleely aware of the humble expression on his face. He imagined he looked like a do who had just peed on the rug in front of its master. He coughed in his hand and gave Karen a small smile.

“How are you Karen?” He asked with a genuine softness. Karen just stared back, and seemed speechless for a moment, which was rare for her. This was a woman who was always in control of the situation. Vince leaned forward.

“Let’s get right to it Steve,” Vince said calmy, looking him in the eyes, “We need to speak about the nature of your relationship to this family.”

Steve felt a fiery brand poke his side at hearing this. Even Karen seemed to wince at Vince’s remark, but showed no effort to disagree with the statement. Instead she dipped her head and looked into her lap.

Steve swallowed and looked into Vince’s eyes, trying esperately to invoke some sort of sympathy out of the man. He was beaten, and knew it. All he could do now is hope Vince wouldhave pity.

“Okay Vince,” Steve said humbly, “I am more than willing to discuss that.”

“Good. Now I have no desire to hurt you Steve. We aren’t friends, we both know that, but I am not out to damage you in any way. Neither is Karen. This is not what this is about. This is about what’s best for Brianna.”

Steve’s eyes began to well up. He did not reply.

“And I think we can both agree,” Vince said, “That what is best for Bri is to grow up in a healthy, peaceful environment. She is young and impressionable, and very sweet. We need to make sure she grows into a nurturing, special young girl,’ Vince stopped, leading his witness.

Steve sniffed and wiped his eyes, “Vince, I absolutely agree with you. That is why I have been sober for almost two months now, and there is no looking back for me. I will never drink again. I want Bri to have all the best of things, and as hard as it is for me to say I want her to grow up having a mother and…and a father figure in the same house. I know that’s not gonna be me. And I accept it. But she still needs her Daddy, and he needs her too. Please, please don’t…”

“And a very important part of maintaining that safe environment,” Vince said not missing a step, “Is to minimize certain destructive influences.”

“Vince, listen, I’m trying to tell you that…”

“You, Steve, are a destructive influence. You are a burden on Karen, and likewise will inevitably become a burden on Bri.”

Karen watched Steve and began to well up herslef. Damn it she felt for him. She ached for him. Vince grabbed her hand and squeezed, seeming to sense her anxousness. Have to stay strong here.

“But I won’t,” Steve replied, “I won’t, I promise I won’t! Listen Vince…Karen…you don’t know the steps I’ve gone through, the breakthroughs I’ve made. I’m a changed man! Just yesterday Father Pollick…he’s the priest whose been helping me, you remember him honey…he atually took me to the bar and…”

“You were at the bar?” Karen said, quieting the room. There was a sharp underlining anger in her tone. She sat up.

“No no, listen! It was a test, you see he was testing me…”

“You promised me that you wold never step foot in a bar again for the rest of your life Steve,” she said.

Steve’s eyes darted back and forth. He was beginning to panic, “No you don’t understand, I didn’t want to go, but he made me and it was good that he did because it was like a final test to see if I could take it! Father Pollick always says you can’t sugarcoat things, and that you have to face your problems head on…”

“Steve, I don’t even know what to believe…” Karen said.

“I ordered water Karen! I ordered a glass of water!”

“Was it a glass of water that fell out of your car the other day?” she asked.

Steve stopped, confused.

“Wait, what are you talking about?”

“The point is that you have not shown either of us that you are fit to have a meaningful influence on your daughter’s life,” Vince said with a commanding tone.

“No wait…what fell out of my car? What are you talking about Karen?” Steve said frantically. Karen slid back into the couch.

“You know,” she muttered.

“I know what? What are you…”

“Steve, it doesn’t matter!” Vince said, beginning to raise his voice.

“It sure as hell does m—“

“We are going to be taking full custody Steve.”

Silence. Steve’s hand was frozen in the air. His eyes twitched. Panic set in. Karen pushed her face behind Vince’s shoulder, unable to look her former husband in the eye. She also was telling him that she consented to this. It was their decision.

The silence held for too long. Even Vince was beginning to worry about what would happen next. He didn’t expect what did.

“You can’t!” Steve yelled, and buried his face in his hands and bagan to bawl. The tears shot from between his fingers as he slipped off the couch and his knees hit the carpet. He bellowed and moaned like a child, he cried like a man whose sole joy in life was being ripped from him. He shot out his arm towards his wife and it hung in mid-air as he sobbed uncontrollably. Karen was looking at him with one eye, that was full of tears.

“Karen!” he cried. She pushed her face behind Vince and began to sob herself. Vince stood strong and just watched Steve without emotion. He knew what this was going to take. Then Steve did what he knew would come next, what every lousy drunk is bound to do at some point in his life. Steve was on his knees in front of him, tears streaming down his face. He clasped his hands and begged.

“Please, please Vince. Just give me more time. I know I can prove to you that I am clean, that I’ll always be clean! Oh God please Vince, please don’t take her away from me. Look at me! I’m nothing! I have nothing. I know my life has been a burden, I know I’m a loser with a terrible problem,but you have to believe me that I can change! I swear to you….Father Pollick can tell you…just don’t take away my baby.”

Steve face hit the floor right at Vince’s feet. Steve repeated please please over and over again between his sobs. He could feel Karen’s wet face bore deeper and deeper into his back, her sobs wer wet and loud. But she was staying strong. He was proud of her.

“Steve, we have an appointment with our lawyer on Thursday. Bring yours, we will have it here. We will have no trouble ascertaining this new arrangeemt, given your past and all. Of course we can wait for the official ruling, but I can spare you the time. You will henceforth be forbidden to have any contact with Brianna Zahn, who will soon not bear your name, in any way shape or form. Karen and I have decided to wait a year and reassess things. But until then you are to stay away. Get up Steve. I need to know that you understand me.”

Steve pounded the floor with his fist, hard. It made Karen shake. He rose up on his knees and karen saw what can only be described as pure despair on the face of her ex-husband. He was at his absolute bottom. Steve moved his stare from Vince to her.

“You can’t do this to me Karen,” he said slowly calmly. Karen couldn’t look away.

At that moment Bri ran around the corner of the hallway with a bright smile on her face.

“The mirror! In the mirror Daddy!” she yelled.

“Bri…” Steve said as he rose to his feet.

“Get back in your room Bri!” Karen yelled from the couch.

“No…wait,” Steve said as he stated towards his daughter. He was in a complete daze.

Vince shot up and got in his way forcefully. Steve began to push and Vince pushed back, with greater strength.

“Now you hold on Steve!” he yelled.

“Brianna…I said back in your room!”

“No wait, Bri, don’t go! Listen…Vince get the fuck off me…”

“Back off!”

“Daddy! Daddy! I have to show you! It’s in the mirror. They can see it in the mirror! It’s bad!”

Steve pushed as hard as he could, but Vince held his ground. He was araid it would come to this, but in a way it was good. This was proving his point to Karen better than he ever could.

“Bri, go now!” Karen yelled, and Bri obeyed and ran back down the hall.

“Vince, get out of my way, I need to see her!”

“Karen,” Vince said while grappling with Steve, “Call the police.”

“Vince, I swear I’ll fucking…”Steve said with gritted teeth.

“Karen, the police!” Vince yelled.

Karen was motionless, and petrified. Vince yelled once more, and she shot up and ran to the kitchen. Vince turned his head and watched her go, which made him lower his guard enough for Steve pass by under his arm and run to the bedroom. Vince quickly turned but tripped on the corner of the couch and hit the floor. Karen dartd out in front of Steve, and Steve, by accident no doubt, knocked her over flat. Her head banged hard against the wall. Steve stopped over her with a panicked look, a wave of guilt and terror washed across his face.

“Come quick Daddy, you’ll miss it!” Bri yelled from her room, “The mirror!”

Steve ran down the hall towards his daughter with the gait of a madman. He turned the corner and beheld his daughter watching TV in the corner. She smiled and pointed at the screen.

“See!” she said.

Steve felt a blinding crack on the back of his head and he saw stars. The room was on a tilt, and he had jus enough time to register that Vince had knocked him in the back of the head with something metal and dense. He hit the floor and the room began to swim. As he was fading out, he saw on the TV a cartoon witch standing in front of a mirror. In the mirror was Snow White.

Bri was watching her favorite movie.



Father Pollick was reading his Bible, preparing for the weeks sermon. He decided it was going to be about Job. Many priests avoided that subject it seemed. Of course it was a wonderful morality tale about enduring hardship and maintaining one’s faith to God. This was why it was told, largely abridged, in Sunday school classes to show the children that God will be with you during hard times. But as an adult lesson it became much more complicated and harder to approach.

“The devil is in the details,” he muttered to himself, and laughed. Put frankly, it seemed like an awful thing for God to do. He basically made a bet with the Devil, who went on to systematically destroy Job’s life. Job was a good man, one of the few back then according to Scripture, who had always kept his faith in his Lord. But many people would view job as nothing but a poker chip in God’s holy game with evil. At first Job was not touched physically, only his possesions and family were harmed. But soon enough God consented to have Job hurt physically, just to see if he would fold. This brings up many questions. Way too many questions for most priests. But Pollick was determined to tell the story because he felt it was important to show a man staying strong. Hat was the real lesson here, not the heavenly wager, but the story of a man who endured unspeakable things but kept going, kept believing. Pollick believed that was God’s intention all along.

The phone rang. Pollick looked at his watch. It was 1:07am. Who would be calling at this hour? No sooner had he posed the question, he knew the answer. He darted up out of bed and ran towards the kitchen phone. He answered.

“Steve?”

“Hey guess where I am Father!” Steve replied.

Pollick’s hand covered his face. He felt his stomach drop. Steve was drunk.

“Oh, God Steven no…”

“Heeell yeah Father!” Steve said. Pollick could hear the jukebox in the background.

“Why are you drinking Steve! In the name of Christ put down that phone and get out of there! It might not be too late!”

“It’s already too fucking late you son of a bitch,” Steve replied in stumbled voice, “As soon as they let me out of that jail cell I came straight here. It’s time I got reacquainted with an old frined. You know Jack right, you lying piece of shit?”

“What jail cell? Steve what did you do!”

“They’re taking her Father….yep, you know the thing I told you was gonna happen, huh? That thing I called you about you overweight faggot? Well it happened! Bri’s gone. She’s GONE Father! And you weren’t there! I needed your help and you turned your back on me. Oh yeah, I told you what I was gonna do, remember? Well here I am! Drunk as hell and living it up!”

“Steven, I’m coming down there.”

“You can go to hell! I’ll join ya. What was that scripture you’re always tellin….tellin me huh? Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we DIE!”

Steve hung up the phone before Pollick could answer.





Father Pollick raced to his car and turned the ignition. He hit the gas before putting on his belt and sed down the road. On the way he crossed himself repeatedly and prayed. But he couldn’t keep up the prayer. Guilt racked him like a sledgehammer. Had Steve been right? Had he been leading the poor boy along all this time, only believing secretly that Stev woul fail in the end? No, he couldn’t believe that. He wouldn’t. But his heart couldn’t swallow that pill. He knew there was apart of him that never did think Steve would clean up. Oh God, what had he done? This poor man had trusted him. But what else could he have done?

The tires screeched as he turned the corner and sped onwards towards Crease’s. Steve had mentioned a jail cell. Pollick’s hands were shaking on the wheel.

“Oh God what did he do?” he said to himself.

Steve had been completely drunk on the phone. He probably needed to be to gather the courage to tell off his only real friend. In that bar there was a man at the end of his rope, a man who had just lost his family, an alcoholic who had fallen hard off the wagon. He had to get there.

Pollick braked to a halt and double parked in front of Crease’s pub. Inside there blared the deep base of the music and raucous laughter and reverie. He pushed the door open with force and surveyed the room.

Sodom.

The bar was packed with young an old, all tipping their glasses and lauging to each other with empty smiles. The fans swung slowly above and twirled the cloud of smoke over the lost group of souls. “Love Shack” emanaed from the corner jukebox as Crease handed out his poison, pocketing his share. A bearded man bumped into Pollick and spilled beer on his shirt. The man muttered something an kept on.

Gommorah.

Pollick frantically scanned the room but could not find Steve anywhere. He searched every angle, every table, the bar and the dance floor. He was nowhere to be found. Pollick pushed his way through the belligerent mass and made his way to the bathroom. There was a line of two girls and a short bald man. He walked past them.

“Hey you get back to the end of the line douchebag,” one of the girls yelled. Pollick ignored them and pounded on the closed foor.

“Steve!” he yelled.

From inside a girl’s voice yelled back, “Occupied!”

Pollick turned swiftly and headed back into the bar. He still saw no sign of Steve. He ran towards Crease, who was washing another glass with a toothpick in his mouth. Pollick rushed the bar and threw his hands on the counter. Crease looked up.

“Steve Zahn,” Pollick said, in a rushed whisper.

“Huh?” Crease answered with a grunt.

“Steve Zahn, have you seen him? Was he here!”

Crease kept washing the glass with his head down. He took out his toothpick and spit in the garbage can next to him, “Yeah.”

“Well where is he? Is he still here?”

“Nope.”

“Well who did he leave with? Please it’s an emergency!”

“He left by himself,” Crease replied with the same grunt.

Pollick could no longer control himslef. His anger swelled and he reached out and grabbed Crease by the shit and pulled him forcefully towards him.

“You let him drive home!” he hollered, loud enough to boom over the music. Most of the patrons stopped and turned.

“You let go of me you crazy son of a bitch! Get the hell out of here!” Crease boomed back. Pollick shoved him hard, and Crease flew back against the mirror, breaking a few bottles.

Pollick turned with a rage altogether new to him. He started pushing his way to the door. Crease jumped over the bar and ran towards him with a baseball bat in his hand. Pollick deftly turned and punched him square in the jaw. Crease fell back and crashed into a table. Pollick ran towards the door before anyone else could grab him.

He jumped in his car and hit the gas, just before the angry mob could reach him. Peeling tire, he raced down the road and turned onto he main highway towards Steve’s house.

“Please please please…” he muttered as the car shifted gears.



The road was dark for miles. Pollick only prayed that Steve would be safe and he could get him through this night. He prayed until beads of sweat poured down his face. His Saab was going 93 miles an hour when he saw the lights ahead.

Before he could even begin to wish against it, he recognized them as a mass of flashing red and blue. There was a large accident up ahead. At least five cop cars and two ambulances. Pollick crossed himself and sped up further. His heart was racing with fear.

As he approached the yellow tape he threw on his E brake and jumped out of the car. As he ran towards the tape three cops pounced on him and pushed him back.

“Woah, easy easy, Back off fella, we need to keep people out of here,” one of the cops said. All three had there hands on his shoulders and were forcing him back. Pollick eyed the wreckage and with a thunderous thud of dread in his stomach he saw Steve’s car. It was off the embankment, completely crushed. The entire front end of his car was smashed in, the engine was through the glass, the tire rims bent. Red flares billowed around the car with ominous light.

“Wait!” Pollick shouted, “I’m his priest! I’m his priest!”

The one cop let go, obviously in charge.

“You’re his priest?” he asked.

Pollick wiped his eyes, “Yes. Oh please let me through. Is he alive?”

The cops looked at each other. The one in charge finally spoke, “Come with me.”

The officer led Pollick under the tape and into the crash scene. Pollick could not take his eyes away from Steve’s car. There was an ambulance parked next to0 it with it’s doors opened. The other amulance was parked opposite besides the other vehicle, an equally destroyed black pickup on it’s side. But Pollick could only look for Steve. Finally he saw him.

Steve Zahn was on a gurney, completely broken and bloody. His face was pulp, no discernable signs of a nose, eyes, or a mouth. It was simple ared and black char. Pollick hit his knees.

“I am very sorry Father,” the police officer said, and put his hand on Pollick’s shoulder, “We didn’t have a chance. He was dead as soon as they hit. We…we found empty liquor bottles in his back seat. Judging from the skid marks he must have been going a hundred miles an hour. We’re doing what we can but as for your friend, well, he’s dead.”

As he said this a black body bag was being ziped over Steve’s body. Pollick threw his hands against his face and screamed with utmost abandon. He shreiked and cried to the heavens. How could this have happened.

He looked up at the face of the cop, “I failed him officer. I failed him. He trusted me and I let him down. Oh God in heaven please have mercy!”

Pollick grabbed the cop by the arm and cried at his leg. The cop put his hand on Pollicks shoulder, but seemed uncomfortable. He leaned down and whispered, “We’re going to make sure we get someone down here to talk to you.” With that the cop walked away towards the other officers.

Pollick eyes darted back and forth. The lights were blinking furiously at him as he cried to God. He fell forward to the pavement and wept into his hands once more. Steve was being loaded into the ambulance, the doors slammed shut.

Pollick lifted his face and sniffed. He couldn’t hold a thought in his head. He turned to see another person on a gurney to his left, also being zipped up into a black bag. This accident had claimed two lives. There was blood from two men on his hands.

Before Pollick sunk his face back into his hands, he looked upon the other victims face as the bag was being closed. Pollick nearly fell over.

He saw the face of a young boy. A young Mexican boy. He had a large gash through his cheek, his eyes swam with blood. His other cheek was jet black with a bruise, and his ear was almost completely lopped off. But the boy’s face was calm, and his eyes were open. He peered directly at Pollick, almost as if he were regarding him. The bag finally zipped over the Mexican’s face. Pollick crossed himself.

“Oh Jesus Christ…”





















                                                THE END