Skin by A. J. Malone - HTML preview

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CHAPTER FIVE

 

Betsy ignored him and got back into her car. She took a few minutes to compose herself, wiped the rain and tears away from her face. She put her old car in gear and ground away at a snail’s pace into the blackness of the night.

The boy she had just seen was her grandson, Rocco McGinty. She drove on through the downpour in the direction of her son's house, Travis McGinty. It took another hour before her battered old car finally struggled up the winding roads and steep hills that lead to his remote home in South-West County Wickford.

Travis could tell by her expression that something was terribly wrong.

"Jesus ma, come in, sit down. What is it?"

"Get me a cuppa tea Travis, for Christ's sake." Betsy had an American accent. Her son Travis was pure Dublin.

"Is it news? Did you hear something?"

She remained silent, shivering, glaring at her son. He made the tea and set it before her.

"I saw him about an hour ago. On the way here."

"You're joking me. Is he alright? Why didn't you bring him here?"

"He's not alright Travis. Not at all."

Her look said it all.

"Jesus Ma. Where is he?"

"I don't know son. All I know is he's gone. They took a huge chunk of skin off his back, there's no way he could have survived it."

Travis' breath shortened; the beginning of hyperventilation. His children were the most important thing in the world to him.

"You must be wrong ma. There's no way anyone could take that from him. I made it myself for fuck's sake. Do you know how many times that thing has saved him? Or me for that matter? You must have seen something else."

"He's gone Travis. If I wasn't sure I wouldn't say so."

She paused. Travis was in a daze. The daze you get when the news you've heard is just too unreal, too painful and too final to be true. The mind wants to reject it and turn back time, believe in anything else except the reality it has been presented with.

"And there's something else."

Travis looked up but didn't say a word.

"He had another mark. It was an eye. Real simple. Right down here on the back of his neck."

She indicated with one bony finger.

Travis's eyes were already streaming silent tears now. No words or sounds came, just terrible unbelieving emotions.

Betsy gave him plenty of time. She knew her son well. Eventually he found his voice.

"I'll fucking kill that cunt. I swear I'll fucking kill him."

He jumped up and started tearing out drawers in search of a murder weapon.

"Travis."

He ignored her. Or didn't hear her.

"Travis!" She shouted. "It won't do any fucking good and you know it."

"He was a good boy ma. You know how good he was. He wouldn't hurt a fly that didn't hurt him. He spent half his life down the animal rescue looking after cats and rats and any aul yoke on four legs that came in. He was the softest, most kind hearted, sweetest kid in the world."

Travis collapsed onto the ground in tears and his mother leaned down to comfort him.

"I know what I saw son. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. He was my kin too, remember? I love him too." They rocked back and forth together on the kitchen floor, the big lanky man all bent up and sobbing into the little frail woman’s arms.

She whispered into his ear. "I don't want to lose you too baby."

Travis began to extricate himself from his mother.

"How could they get it off him? It was the best there is. I made it myself."

"Look. They got it somehow and Rocco needs us to know that, OK? Why else would he come to me. We can't let them have it Travis. We have to get it back or he isn't ever going to be happy. He won't ever let this go. he can't. You gave it to him, remember?"

Travis abruptly stood up, finding his strength and composure again. He went straight to the  kitchen cupboards and took out a shoe box. Betsy looked on; resigned, afraid, saddened. He reached in and took out an 8mm Baikal Russian service pistol.

"What are you going to do with that Travis? Shoot your way in, kill them all, then go on the run the rest of your life? Is that what Rocco would have wanted?" Her son loaded the weapon and pushed it under his belt. "They got Rocco already. What makes you think they won't be able to get you as well?"

Travis gave his mother a grim look and walked out into the night.