Page 24 of Night Blind

“You’re using Jergens lotion on your skin,” he said, “I can smell you a mile away.” He removed his boots, as he accepted the pillow and blanket.

“You and Slow must go back a long way,” Helen said to Mustang. “He acknowledged you being here and you called Ruth ‘Mama.’ There is a story there. Maybe I can hear it in between me climbing out of a tree and driving to Michigan.”

“Maybe,” he said, leaning over to unfasten his boots.

“Fair enough,” she replied, only needing one answer to know his entire story. Therefore, she asked, “How did you like working as a camp counselor with Reverend Johnson in the summers?”

Mustang’s head snapped around to look at her fully. She wasn’t as innocent as she appeared. Helen wasn’t a timid mouse who needed protecting. The woman was astute and sharp. It didn’t escape his notice how she managed everyone in the room. The timid mouse had silenced Mark Neary, shutting him down. She fascinated Mustang in a way he didn’t understand, but he was interested to see how the two upcoming situations would be handled.

“Hmmph,” he replied, “get some rest; we have a lot to discuss tomorrow.”

“No, we don’t actually. The less we talk about it, the better. Let it unfold esoterically. You stay close on my heels, let me get it done, and offer aid when I ask or am about to mess up,” she whispered.

“So, you’re dragging me along as your bitch?”

“No, I need you to be my shadow and keep me safe,” she told him. “Slow trusts you, therefore, I trust you. I remember the feeling of safety when you lifted me in your arms, carrying me away from the ugliness. Keep me alive and get us both back here safely. Can you do that for us all?”

“Us all?”

“Yes Mustang, for our family?”

He nodded, feeling overwhelmed by emotion. She saw through him as if all of his years of wandering had brought him back here. Mustang came through the door to be hugged and kissed on his temple by Mark Neary as he always did when he walked0 through the door. The terrible parents God had given him were replaced when he was 13 by Mark and Ruth Neary. He’d grown up in the house with Rebecca and Michael. At the age of 15, during a swimming incident at summer camp, Rebeccanearly drowned. He was closest to the Neary girl and brought her from the water, breathing life into the slumped form, and resuscitating her body. Mustang, at 16 years old, when asked if he wanted to file to become emancipated, opted instead for a request to be adopted.

Mark and Ruth Neary saw no issue with the request, nor did their two children. He was adopted, and by his own request renamed Jairus Paul Neary. Mustang was a Neary, and Helen was correct, he would do what was necessary for the family.

Chapter 9- Edify

Michael Isaac Neary was an early riser out of habit, not necessity. He’d never been one to sleep in unless ill or too sore to get out of bed; either way, he would still move. This morning, before everyone was awake in the house, he rose to make a pot of coffee, have a bagel, and think through the last 48 hours of his ever-changing life. In the kitchen, he stood at the sink, looking out over his land when the final drop of black attitude changer hit the glass carafe. He poured two cups and walked over to the couch to hand the second cup to Mustang, who he knew was awake the moment he entered the kitchen.

“Mustang,” he said, passing the cup.

“Mr. Slow,” he replied, accepting the mug. His long, muscular legs swung from the couch, bringing him to an upright sitting position. He sniffed at the chicory coffee his adopted brother loved to make, sipping and allowing the dark brew to slide down his throat. “Married with a kid, huh? And I didn’t even get an invite for either. The kid is what, about five?”

“All of this is new, I mean like five months or so new,” Slow told him.

“Secret baby?”

“Real secret; found out when the cousin went missing,” he said.

“The marriage?”

“Gabriel…,” Slow replied.

“Explains a great deal of why you called me to help,” Mustang said. “I just happened to be in Michigan for the conference.”

“I know, and you are the best tracker out there,” he said.

The silence between them wasn’t thick with the unresolved drama between brothers. Mustang had taken a job with the State Troopers after college, taking his first assignment in Michigan, where he also went to college. A conference on the West Coasttook him to Oregon where he fell in love with the vibe of the state and opted to stay. A special task force put together to locate and find missing women and children arose, and as one of the best trackers on the force, he was attached to the group to help out. In his free time while on the assignment, he’d taken it upon himself to track and find The Collector.

“Speaking of that, you know I don’t like to fire my weapon,” he said, cutting his eyes at Slow. “How is Helen, is that her name, going to handle this assignment she’s volunteered us for? I mean, if she gets cold feet, I’m not going to complete the job.”

“The anger in her is enough to complete the task; my fear is that she will like it,” Slow said. “You know how The Company feels about people who enjoy the job.”

“Yeah, I do,” he said. “Azreal is a tough cookie.”

“Says the man who works for Belial, the Angel of Lawlessness,” Slow said, almost smiling.

Mustang drew back in horror. His face contorted as he looked at Slow. “Dear Jesus! Was that a smile? Were you smiling? I need to go get Pops. I think you might be ill,” he said shivering.

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