Chapter 12 of 12
written by Harold
Detective Goings patted dry the makeup he had just finished applying around his eye. He hadn’t worn it before. Was it even supposed to get so wet? But the amount of looks he was receiving from his black and thin blue bruises began to naw away at his confidence. He had NEVER lost a suspect before. He had never lost in a police chase. In fact, he had never even so much as taken a punch from a criminal. But what happened when he had Lima Lee in custody, before being attacked by Tone Loc and having his interrogation room destroyed, that stuck with him. His fellow cops wouldn’t say it. But that almost made it worse: Detective Goings was a loser.
Goings had to beg to be put on the SUSPECT ON THE RUN case of Lima Lee. Sheriff Lenn Wood told him that he wouldn’t get any help on the dung piles of paper work he;d be working through, but that didn’t matter to Goings. He was willing to put everything to the side until he could finally see Lima Lee behind bars. She had murdered Craig, Tony Stark, the Messiah, Tone Loc, Santa Claus, but more than anything, she made Detective Goings look like a bonafied sucka.
Goings pulled up to the shabby “house” right across the Turin city limits. He wasn’t sure if he was looking at a door or just a plank of wood with a painted doorknob on it. Either way, Goings was ready to get going out of here. But not before he talked to his next suspect.
Lima’s mother was a bust. Craig’s family was a bust. Lima’s friends from Nashville were no help. If anyone might have an answer, it would be this kid.
Going past by the Subaru with a worn out Uber sticker that kissed the bumper and let his fist meet the “door” of the crumbling wreckage that only a Turin resident would be willing to live under. Three knocks. With force.
The smell of pot hit Goings long before the door opened, but when it did he wasn’t surprised by what he saw: vampire white, Olsen twin thin, pirate facial hair. This was a Turin resident alright. And the exact Uber driver he was looking for.
“Woah, man, I don’t want no trouble! That’s not my weed, dude! It’s my cats!”
Detective Goings lifted a hand to the boys face, as if to say “woah, girl” to his wild horse antics. The stallion went quiet. But he still might need to be put down.
“I want to ask you about an incident that took pla-“
Detective Goings was immediately cut-off.
“You’re looking for that Lima girl. Shit. I knew this would happen. Look,” he dug his hands in his pockets and dropped his eyes to the dirt floor that most Turin residents slept on. “I haven’t heard anything about her since she did all them murders last week. I hope she gets caught and pays for her crime, but–“
Detective Goings reached out and ran his fingers down the Uber boys nose. Just like you’d do with a spooked horse.
“Eeeeaaasy.” Detective Goings pet a smooth tune into the drivers neck. “Can I come in?”
Uber Boy stepped back and opened the full view of the hoarders nightmare known as the nicest house in Turin.
“There’s something else. Something I gotta show that she left in the backseat.” Detective Goings wasn’t sure why he didn’t mention this before. “But I was too high to remember.” That explains it.
Detective Goings watched as the Uber Boy shifted through the Burger King to-go bag sitting on the boxes he used as a coffee table. And outside the bag he pulled something that Detective Goings never knew he was looking for: a tape recorder.
Goings hit play and the familiar voice of Lima Lee began to sing. The song was dull, repetitive, a parody of her influences, and empty of heart.
“They’re all like that. Bland as Turin.”
Detective Goings held the recorder closer to his ears, letting every word settle into his brain before he could confirm the void of purpose. But he confirmed it.
“Is there anything else? Did she say anything strange? Whatever is helpful.”
“Nah, honestly, I slept through most of the time with her.”
“I understand.” Detective Goings did not understand that amount of laziness. “Do you live alone? Anyone else here?”
“Just me and the roachats (a term for hybrid roach/rats that were popular in Turin).”
Ok, thought Detective Goings.
BLAM
Uber Boy fell back onto his potato chip bagged couch and was done. Goings tossed the pistol next to his corpse and turned to the hole in the wall for a door. As he merrily took himself back to the car, he began to play the recording again, but this time, he held the rewind button as it played… the lyrics revealed their true message. They revealed the Lima she tried to subdue until she couldn’t just “fall in line” anymore:
In the day of Satan,
A satan took me for a long walk
in the daylight.
He was telling me many things
with beautiful words,
Advised me so wisely,
Telling me for not too kind to people.
He said, “Why should you love and care about people
that never appreciate your kindness? Don’t you see that they only take a benefit from you?
They don’t mind to hurt you whenever they have chance.
You are wasting your time! You are wasting your life!”In the day of Satan
A satan took me for a long walk
in the daylight.
Crowning my head
with all the brilliant ideas
about what I should do and I should be as a human,
Filling my heart
with all world’s temptations,
Shining my way
with his adorable light,
And showing the much happiness and glory I could get
if I let myself following his path.In the day of Satan
A satan took me for a long walk
in the daylight.
He made me fell in love with all of his beautiful words
that I was so ready to take a step
to follow all the words and the path he said and offered.But then my inner soul came
and whispered,
“Are you sure that you’re ready for following his path?
What is your motive of doing goodness, anyway?
To get people’s attention or appreciation?
Or just for goodness itself?
Is your kindness just like the woman’s make up
that will vanish as soon as you wash your face?
Are you sure that you’re ready
for making him a King in your life?”In the day of Satan
A satan took me for a long walk
in the daylight to his kingdom
to marry me and crown me as his queen.
But then I realized that
I’m doing kindness actually for the kindness itself
I’m doing goodness surely for the goodness itself
I’m doing merit definitely for the merit itself
Not for people I’ve helped
Not for people I love
Not for heaven’s sake
Not even for the universeIf people can’t appreciate me,
that’s their problem, not mine.
If people can’t accept
my unconditional love for them
with the proper way,
that’s their problem, not mine.
If people turn to be backstabbers
instead of showing their gratitude
for what I’ve done for them,
that’s their problem, not mine.In my life,
there’s always a day of satan.
As the final word was said, the ground beneath Detective Goings began to quake in hunger, the clouds were suddenly kissed by fire, and the chorus of neighboring screams began to rise up, harmonizing with Lima’s lyrics. Everything was done. Satan could rise, and in no better place than Turin, GA.
Detective Goings peeled the skin from around his ears and the face of the rambunctious detective floated down to the cowboy boots of Lima Lee. She laughed. She had done it. She had brought the song of the devil to the hell pit of the South. She was worried she never would get back here. But she did. The sacrifices had been made. There was only one thing left to do.
“My child…” a voice echoed in her head. She knew who this was.
Satan.
“Satan.”
“You’ve been working hard, my Bean,” the voice bounced through her head and shook every bone that made her.
“And now you must work for me.” Lima demanded. She would negotiate with no one. Not anymore.
“I am giddy with anticipation,” Satan replied, a giggle tagging the end of the sentence.
“You can have Coweta County. I want Paddington in my place.”
Satan smiled. Lima couldn’t see this smile, of course, but she felt a grin appear across his face so wide that her own cheeks began to reach out in an effort to join.
“Why, Lima? If I remember correctly, you don’t feel any deep connection to him. He’s just a pet. A dumb, sick, pet that you can’t lint roll the hair off fast enough. He’s disposable. Country music runs thicker than blood, Lima.”
Lima grimaced in a way only Satan could make someone. He was right, but it hurt to hear.
“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be great.” Lima took a moment. She didn’t recognize the words that she confessed, but they felt at home as they came out. “Paddington still can. He is every bit of strength I am not. He is our legacy.”
“So you wish for him instant fame? A fortune? Celebrity?”
“No. I wish he wasn’t sick anymore. He already has everything else he needs to be great. He’s just never been given a fair shot.”
“Lima, you fool!” Satan shook the sky–basketball sized hail dropping around Lima. “You can make any deal with me and you choose this?! Humans never cease to amaze me in their comfort of disappointment.”
“You’re right…” Lima looked into his eyes. She couldn’t see them, but she knew she had found them. “I have been far too comfortable being far too disappointed. I don’t deserve the chance. Paddington does.” Lima turned away and got into the patrol car. “Heal him.”
She started the engine and adjusted the rearview mirror, taking in one last look at herself. She didn’t even wait for Satan’s response. He’d do it. He had to. The car pulled back out of the driveway and directly into a crack in the ground. The flames embracing Lima as they laid her down to bed. Satan kissed her head. Lima closed her eyes.
And somewhere in the distance, safe from the touch of the devil, Paddington had a smile on his face, so large it made him almost unidentifiable. In a way, he would be. He was a new man.
Newnan Time with Harold 