Flutter (13 page)

“What are these?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t even know they were there until just now.”

“You never saw them?”

“No! When was the last time you looked at your back? And that little ass mirror at Frankie’s… I don’t remember anything about these.”

 The tattoos were small icons no bigger than a quarter, stacked one above the other. Roger continued to touch them lightly with his hand. 

“Hold on.” Roger ran into his room and grabbed his iPhone. He began taking pictures of the small tattoos on her back. One by one he snapped the pictures so that she could get a better view of each picture.

Finding those markings made Abby even more uncomfortable with her memory loss and her body. “Who tampered with me? Who did this?” she thought to herself. Even Frankie hadn’t noticed them when he dressed her wounds the night he found her in the alley. Once again, she felt vulnerable in front of Roger. She had showed Roger another mystery about herself, and now a new project had begun. Roger downloaded the pictures onto his computer and printed them out. Abigail looked at the images one by one, but none registered any meaning to her. Unfortunately, the process of rediscovering who she was only made the nightmares worse.

Abigail took a midday nap after her breakfast, a half movie and a few minutes of staring at the images on her back. When she fell asleep, she slipped into another nightmare. She was strapped to a medical table on a mountaintop. Her arms, legs and midsection were strapped down to the table. Her mouth was stuffed and tied. She looked left and right investigating her surroundings. Her body is bloody and bruised. A Harpy Eagle, known for its deadly talons, swooped down and landed on her stomach. Its long black talons pierced into her belly, ripping into her organs. She tried to scream but there was no sound. The eagle flew away and the wounds in her stomach turned black.

Black patterns spread out across her body, growing away from the holes in her midsection. She was terrified. Suddenly the sky turned black, lightning cracked, and the ground fell from beneath her. She was falling. She felt a familiar electric jolt run through her body and she clenched her teeth. Her eyes turned blue with each jolt. She heard a voice say, “Awake.” She opened her eyes and she was in a medical room. She was sweating. The markings were gone. The straps were gone. She was naked. She rose out of the bed effortlessly, noticing the funny look of the walls of the room. She could see shapes of other bodies against the wall. She reached out to touch the body of one of the beings. The man opened his eyes and roared at her. She jumped and awoke.

Abigail sat on her bed sweating and panting. Again her dreaming had disrupted a peaceful and necessary rest. The setting sun flickered over the treetops and what was left of its light snuck through the blinds. She stood up, stretched and looked through the dusty white plastic strips. A cat passed by. It noticed Abigail’s glance. It hissed at her. She hissed back and caught herself. “What am I doing?” She stretched again and rubbed the top of her back between her shoulder blades, touching the highest of her tattoos.

It was late afternoon and Finch had just arrived home. She was barely out of her jacket when she received a text from Brown. “MISS YOU! JOIN ME AT FRANKIES.” She didn’t want to sit home alone. After a long day of work, a drink at Frankie’s was a nice bonus. She decided to take a shower. After the shower, she changed into a t–shirt and running pants. She sprayed her body with some sweet smelling body splash just before her phone rang. It was her mother–in–law. Finch ignored the call as usual. She wanted to answer but couldn’t find the energy to have an hour long discussion about anything that had to do with Anthony. She had been ignoring the calls for the past three months.

Suddenly Finch looked directly in front of her. She stood there for a while and stared at absolutely nothing. There was nothing there, but she sensed something was there. She turned around, looked behind herself, thought for a moment and shook it off. She went into the bathroom and washed her face. “I’m going crazy in this house.”

Finch went to her back porch. She took out the small joint that she kept hidden and lit it up. She took two hits from it and took a couple of deep breaths. It was a short moment in heaven. She needed it. It was a temporary fix before a potential sex–filled night with Sydney Brown.

She grabbed her keys and ran out of the house.

Brown sat at the bar, drinking a Guinness and milk. He had been quietly watching a boxing match he had seen before, so his attention wasn’t 100% into it. He and Frankie spent the night engaging in small talk. Frankie was tending the bar alone. Technically, he had closed the bar for the night, but if he was on the floor and an acquaintance of his stopped by, he didn’t mind opening up the bar and sharing a few drinks.

“Where is my girlfriend?” Brown joked about Abigail.

“Who? Abby? She doesn’t work every day you know.”

“Tell her I miss her.” Brown smiled as he took a sip.

“You better worry about your own unfinished affairs old man and get Abigail out of your head.” They giggled. 

“I hear you’re thinking about closing the club,” Brown pried. 

Frankie didn’t want to talk about it with a cop, but he figured it was okay. “Man. I been trying to close the place for the past couple months. I just can’t convince Larry… I don’t need the heat anymore man. I know you guys know about it and look out for me. I respect that, but it’s not worth the headache. You know what I’m saying?”

Brown agreed, “Yes. I’ll tell you something. You are a respected man, but the police force gets older; and new, younger guys come in. You don’t know them; they don’t know you. They don’t understand how important these relationships are; they’re just looking for stripes and recognition.”

“I know. I saw some new kid in here, sniffing around like he had big balls. I wanted to knuckle his ass up. Scaring my customers just to be a prick. What was his name? I can’t remember. What a prick!” Frankie poured himself a shot of Jameson whiskey. “So, what’s new? We haven’t seen you here in a while.”

“Not much new. It’s the same old shit. Work and women! Keeps you busy!”

Frankie agreed, “Ha! Ha! Busy and broke!” 

The door opened and Finch walked in the door. The two men look at her. “Hey guys.”

Frankie found her attractive, “Now that’s a nice one right there.”

“That’s my partner.”

“You’re a lucky man.” Frankie winked and reached for a glass. 

Finch sat down at the bar. She immediately ordered a drink. “Let me get a double Crown Royal on the rocks.” The drink was the best compliment to how she had felt all day.

“So…Meghan…”

“So…Sydney…” They both giggled. “I can’t even take you seriously right now.”

Brown leaned toward her and whispered in her ear, “You’re cute.” Brown didn’t get much time to flirt with her in public, but he seized the moment whenever he could. “I don’t tell you enough.” They had the bar to themselves; the night was lovely, the setting was romantic enough to make Meghan more open with her flirtations as well. Finch smiled and looked away, shyly. Frankie handed her the drink and walked away giving them privacy.

“What’s up with your mother in law calling and you ignoring her calls? What’s going on?”

“We don’t talk about that, remember?” Finch reminded him that their time together was about them and no one else, not even Anthony.

Sydney shrugged his shoulders and conceded. He finished his drink. Frankie placed the bottle of Crown Royal and a glass with ice in front of Brown and winked. Frankie went back to shining glasses on the other side of the bar. He got a phone call from Larry and walked into the kitchen to take the call.

“You get that memory card over to the lab?” Finch swiftly changed the subject.

“Let’s not talk about work!” Brown wanted to focus the discussion in another direction.

“Agreed.” They toasted glasses and smiled at one another. 

“So, let’s talk about us.” Brown was a little uncomfortable because he wasn’t sure how Meghan would react. She could turn her soft side off and on like a stop light. She intimidated Brown a little but not enough to keep him at bay. He was sick of the hiding and the secret life they shared. He wanted more, but all the cards were in Meghan’s hands. And she knew it.

“What about us, Sydney?” She gulped down the Crown Royal out of nervousness. She knew what he meant, but it wasn’t a conversation she was ready to have. She poured another shot.

“I mean us maybe being a little more serious about this you and me thing. I have feelings for you, you know that.” He sipped. “I’m tired of… sneaking around in closets or for a late night rendezvous’. I want to dress up and see you in a sexy dress — take you out, buy you things, and have all of this be okay.”

“I’m sure the department would like to know you’ve been fucking your partner, Sydney.” Meghan’s defense was to be an asshole. She knew he didn’t look at her that way. She couldn’t look him in the eye. She had strong feelings for him, too.

“I don’t ‘fuck’ you, Finch.”

“Then what is it that you do to me? What else would you call it?” She really didn’t want to hear his answer but didn’t know what else to say to start an argument that would give her an excuse to end the conversation.

“Okay, yes. Sometimes we fuck. Fine! It is what it is, but if you can’t tell the difference between the times it’s just sex and when I’m making love to you, then maybe I’m fucking up over here and I
should
leave you alone. Because I thought…” Brown moved in closer. “I thought you were making love to me too.”

They were both feeling loose from the drinking. Finch had let him get closer than she ever had in public. He ran his hand through her hair and kissed her on the jaw line two soft times. He moved around and gently kissed her on the lips. She was afraid, “Syd, you know my mind is not straight right now. This is too much for me.” She pulled away and took another shot. “That’s the last one for the night. I have to drive.”

Brown wouldn’t give up, “Come stay with me tonight. I can’t let you drive home, and…”

“I’m fine. I can drive.” She meant it. “I can’t stay tonight,” she lied.

“No. You can stay, but you choose not to. Just stay with me tonight. Please. I need to feel you.”

Frankie stepped out of the kitchen and back onto the floor.

Brown sensed he was ready to close up and said, “Sorry, Frankie. We stayed a little longer than we thought. We’re gonna head out.”

“Take your time. No rush.” Frankie was upset after his conversation with Larry. “I have to stay open for a while. Larry’s on his way over. He should be walking in shortly. So, I’ll still be here.”

Finch jumped in, “Thanks, but we really must head out. We have a long day tomorrow.” She pulled out her wallet. “What do we owe you?”

“Keep it. It’s taken care of.”

Brown interjected, “Come on Frankie. Take something.”

“Next time,” Frankie insisted. “Don’t worry about it. You’re a good friend.”

Brown nodded, “Next time. Thanks again. See you soon.”

Sydney and Meghan walked out of the bar just as Larry walked into the bar.

Larry and Frankie’s friendship started long ago when they were each 15 years old. Larry was a very quiet and mild tempered kid who lived on the same block as Frankie. He was taller than the rest of the boys and was built stronger. People used to tease him that he was lying about his age. Once, he and Frankie were teased by some boys from the football team. The football team learned the hard way that a quiet demeanor didn’t mean a weak punch. Frankie and Larry polished off six football players in two minutes. They never had any more trouble from the team or from anyone else for that matter. 

Upon finishing high school, Larry and Frankie each went in different directions, keeping in touch about four times a year. Frankie started running errands for local Italian mob families. Larry went to Bunker Hill Community College and received his associate’s degree in Business Administration and then finished his bachelor’s in business at UMass Boston. He worked as an auditor for about four years and a personal accountant for another six years.

In 2002 Larry was arrested for soliciting an underage prostitute in Revere. The morning his divorce was finalized, he went on a drinking binge and didn’t show up for work. He took three Percocet pills, downed a whole bottle of vodka, and sped through the streets. He finally crashed into a pole on Main Street. Someone called the police. He awoke just as the police arrived and realized he was in an alley with the prostitute performing oral sex on him. He tried to explain that he was too intoxicated to remember what had happened, but no one listened. Frankie made a few calls, got him a lawyer and helped him cut a deal. He pleaded no contest and served one week in prison, agreeing to give up his CPA license in exchange for two years of probation. Frankie had just opened the pub, and Larry came on as manager. 

Larry walked into the pub, barely making eye contact with Frankie. He went directly to the back of the bar and grabbed a Corona. He walked back to the front of the bar and sat at a stool. He popped the top off and took a drink.

Larry looked at Frankie, “You have a lot of cops around here.”

Frankie said, “It’s how I keep my ears to the ground, and Sydney’s a good friend regardless. He keeps me updated on things we would want to know. Things we
need
to know so we don’t lose this fucking place.”

Larry took out a cigarette. In June of 2004, Massachusetts passed a law banning smoking in restaurants and bars, but since the bar was technically closed, he lit the cigarette and took a drag. He said, “Frankie, I don’t want to argue with you about what to do with this place. It’s yours, not mine. I’ve been here to support you since day one, but I feel like there is more to this decision than a subtle warning from a cop.”

“There’s no such thing as a subtle warning.” Frankie grabbed a Sam Adams for himself. He opened it and took a drink. “I never intended to keep the club open.”

“Well you should have discussed that with me.”