Chapter nineteen
When he was released on parole, his father was at the gate to pick him up. Exactly one week out, he broke his parole by lifting a nine-millimeter Smith and Wesson from his dad’s dresser drawer. He then started hitchhiking to Michigan. When his first ride passed a little convenience store setting on a half acre patch of gravel out in the boondocks, Sean asked to be let out. He had noticed that there was only one car at the store and rightly figured it belonged to the owner. His ride pulled to the side of the road three thousand feet past the store and asked if he was sure he wanted out there. The store they passed had not even registered with him. As far as he was concerned there wasn’t anything around for miles. Sean said, “This will be fine,” Thanked him for the ride, and walked back to the store. He went inside and stuck his gun in the face of the old man behind the counter. Before he left the store he picked up a two cases of beer, ten cartons of cigarettes, a bag full of candy and snack food. Before he left the store he yanked the phone out of the wall. He only got eighty-two dollars but he also took the old man’s car. The car wasn’t worth much more than the cash but at least it got him out of New Mexico. He filled the gas tank along with four five-gallon gas cans from the store. He stashed the gas cans along with everything else he took from the store in the trunk of the car and headed for Flint. He had one stop to make on the way.
Molly was going to school in Ann Arbor Michigan and Sean figured he may as well stop and see her since it was practically on the way to where he was going.
Along with Molly’s ability to walk had came an almost perfect memory and an ease for learning. Molly had spent her last two years in high school tutoring children without her abilities. Before she had been healed she had a hard time with learning, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. She was well aware that the only way off the reservation was through education. Molly had decided that the least she could do to repay her good fortune was to help her Indian brethren.
She had graduated top of her class with a 4.0 grade point average and had aced her SAT’s the year before. That coupled with her Native American status virtually guaranteed a free ride to just about any school in the country. She chose The University of Michigan for its renowned medical school.
The last person Molly expected to have show up at her dorm was her brother Sean, but here he was. She had tried to keep in touch after he went to prison but after six months of unanswered letters, she gave up. She knew he was out but assumed he was in New Mexico and had no idea that he would want to see her.
She suggested that they go to the cafeteria to talk. She had a roommate that didn’t tolerate men in the room, even relatives. Molly got a cup of coffee and Sean got a coke. When they sat down Sean pulled a pint out of his jacket pocket and poured a good double shot in his coke. Molly glanced around embarrassedly, but didn’t say anything. After about a half hour of idle chatter Molly dropped the bomb, “Guess who’s on campus, John Hanson.”
“You gotta be kidding.”
“No it was him I’m sure of it. I saw him a couple of times. He’s not going by John Hanson though. I tried to find him in the university directory. No luck.” Sean asked where she had seen him and she caught something in his eye. She wondered if she should have kept quiet.
“You’re not going to try and find him are you?”
“No, just curious. I doubt that he’d be interested in hanging out with an ex con.”
“Well, it was at the main campus library both times. From the books he was reading, I think he may be in engineering.”
Had Molly had any interest what-so-ever in football she would have known for sure what his name was, but she didn‘t.
Right after Sean left Molly, he made it a point to find out where the main library was. As it turned out it was amazingly easy. He just asked the first person he saw and she was more than happy to give him directions.
Molly, back in her room, couldn’t get over the uneasy feeling that she had made a mistake in mentioning John. Her brother was nothing like she remembered him. He had a hardness about him that wasn’t there before. Even as children, Sean had struck her as bitter at times and unaware of others feelings except when it came to her. It had always been obvious to her that he loved her but she didn’t get the feeling that he cared much for anyone else let alone loved them. She even had the feeling at times that he resented John and he was his best friend. Sean had told her once that if it weren’t for the color of their skin he would have been the quarter back instead of John.
Sean had been sitting in his car across from the library off and on for over a week and was about to give up and try another tact when he spotted him. Sean had been drinking beer and listening to the radio and had fallen asleep. It was just dumb luck that he woke up as John came down the library steps. It was after ten PM and not a night for strolling, a light snow was coming down, the temperature was hovering around ten degrees and Sean didn’t see another person in sight.
John had only gone a short distance when he felt the barrel of a gun pressed against his neck. He’d never had a gun pressed against his neck before, but he knew instantly what it was and froze.
“Hi John, remember me?”
When John heard Sean’s voice he new instantly what had happened. He had seen an Indian girl in the library a few weeks ago, that looked like Molly. He’d thought at the time it probably wasn’t her. This girl had resembled Molly but was a real beauty. When he knew Molly she had been chubby and this girl was anything but. Furthermore, he couldn’t imagine Molly attending U of M. He saw now that that was a major error on his part.
“Sean why are you pointing a gun at me again? I thought we were friends.”
“Not fucking likely asshole.
“Do you have a car?”
“No.”
Sean hit him in the side of the head as hard as he could with the gun. John didn’t see it coming and it dropped him like a stone. John was trying to get to his feet and figure out why he had been laying on the ground when Sean kicked him in the crotch with a steel-toed boot. He went back down on his knees and vomit spurted from his mouth. Sean jumped back and said, “Goddamned lucky for you that you didn’t get any on me asshole.”
John was back on his feet and coming to his senses when Sean said, “Where’s the car?”
“How did you know I have a car?”
“Rich ass white boys don’t use public transportation idiot. Now where the fuck is the car?”
Sean followed John about two blocks to a campus parking lot. John stopped by a red sixty-five Mustang and said, “This is it.”
“Unlock it and give me the keys.”
“John took out his key ring and pushed a button. A siren went off along with the horn and the lights started flashing. John was already ten feet away and running fast. Sean steadied the pistol and at about twenty feet, he pulled the trigger. John went down and slid four feet through the snow on his face. Sean walked up to him and kicked him in the head.
“Asshole!”
The snow was covered with blood and the dark red spot around John was growing rapidly. Sean reached down, took the keys out of his hand and his wallet out of his back pocket. He pushed the button to stop the alarm and walked back to the Mustang.
“Fuckin rich assholes. Who has a sixty five with an alarm system?”
Sean wasn’t very concerned about the alarm or the gunshots. He was in a city and from what he had heard; no one in the city paid any attention to that sort of thing. He was wrong about that. He was in Ann Arbor, not Detroit. He was sure that John was dead, but he was wrong again, for the umpteenth time in his life.
Sean got in, started the car and checked the gas gauge. The tank was full.
“Thanks asshole.”
He pulled out of the parking lot, drove a few blocks and pulled to the curb under a street light. He opened the glove box and found an envelope marked important papers. He opened it and took out the registration. It was made out to John Martin with an address in Crystal River Florida. He then opened the wallet, took out the money and counted it. There was three hundred and ten dollars. Sean thought, “not bad and a full tank of gas.”
He was just about to leave when there was a tapping on his window. He whirled his head and found himself looking in the face of a cop. Shit, he thought; the wallet was lying in plain sight on the console. He looked in the rearview mirror and thought where the hell did he come from. There was no squad car behind him. The cop tapped on the window with his nightstick again. It took Sean a little time to find the crank but he finally lowered the window. He said, “Is there a problem officer?
“You tell me.”
“No problem. I just stopped to check my map. I’m a little lost.”
“Can I see your license and registration please?”
Sean reached in his pocket. The officer having seen the wallet lying on the console jumped back from the window and reached for his gun, but not in time. Sean shot him in the face just below his left nostril. He pulled the shift lever out of park and was on I-94 ten minutes later. He had no idea where Crystal River was or even Florida for that matter but he intended to find out, but first he was going to pick up Weasel.