Reverse Metamorphosis book one of the Irrevocable Change trilogy (21 page)

“Let me have the paper to read” Clay said to
Tony. “I’ll write down the two code sentences and put it in my
billfold.”

Tony left to go to the bathroom, and refill
their beers.

Clay read the simple instructions again and
again until he was sure he had all of the details memorized. He
copied the recognition sentences on to a scrap of paper and put it
in his billfold. He would have them memorized and dispose of the
paper before reaching Knoxville.

When Tony returned with the beer, they
finished their drinks while Tony filled Clay in on the recent
happenings in his business, something he continued to do every time
they got together.

It took stops at two Army Surplus stores
before he found a pair of combat boots in his size. Many stops were
made at second hand clothing stores looking for the other items he
was directed to wear. Finding a used Cardinals cap in Chicago was
going to take some doing. He went home with the boots and a red
jacket, but no cap. However, he knew with determination he would
find it too.

Margaret was in the kitchen fixing supper
when he entered the back door. He had left the red jacket in his
car trunk and had the new boots in a bag.

“Have you been shopping” his mother asked as
he laid the bag on the floor while taking off his coat. “Yeah, I
bought a new pair of work boots. I’m getting low on money, so I’m
going to look for some other line of work.”

“Clay, you’re not planning to work for Tony
Giliano, are you?”

“No Mom, I don’t want to do what Tony and his
guys do.” Clay winced internally at the half truth he had just
told.

“Clay, I’m worried about you spending so much
time with him. It’s because of him you got in trouble with the
Union for quitting your job. Can’t you see what trouble he brings
on you just by being associated with his kind of trashy people?
Believe me, I know what trouble people like him can cause.”

“Look Mom, I know how you feel about the
Giliano’s, and what they represent to you, but they’re not all bad.
They have standards they live by too just like you do; only they’re
different standards. I’m not condoning some of the things they’ve
done, but I’m not a part of Tony’s business and won’t be.”

Walter had overheard the conversation and
entered the room, sitting down at the red Formica topped kitchen
table. “Clay maybe you haven’t heard this, but in addition to what
was in the newspapers and on television, the talk on the street is
while Tony Giliano was in the hospital he hired a professional
killer to get even with some Russian gangsters who shot him. He
ordered the killing of those fourteen people and God only knows how
many more. Some of the Chicago policemen come in the shop to get
haircuts and several of them have said this hired killer is one of
the coldest blooded people they’ve ever come up against. Why, one
of those people they slaughtered was a woman. And the police say
members of the Russian gang continued to disappear, or were found
dead for three months after those first murders. The police are
baffled and haven’t been able to charge anyone for a single one of
those killings. There are rumors on the street some young local
killer was hired to take over in Giliano’s absence; but no one is
saying who the person is. Do you understand the kind of people
you’re dealing with? They’d just as soon slit your throat as look
at you if they get it in for you. They don’t have moral qualms
about killing anybody.”

Margaret got back into the conversation
before Clay could reply. “Clay, we love you and don’t want to see
you get hurt, or get lead into trouble. If those people have the
opportunity to profit from your involvement in some crooked scheme
they won’t think twice about using you for their own personal gain.
And Son, if you were to get involved with them and commit some
horrible act, well, I just don’t know what I’d do; even though you
are my own flesh and blood and I love you dearly.”

“Mom, Walter, I promise you I am not going to
work for Tony in his business. I’ve heard the same rumors you have
Walter, and I know how serious they are. In fact, as I was starting
to tell Mom earlier, I’m thinking about looking at other kinds of
work to get into. I’m going to go away for five or six weeks and
try some different things. I can work at other kinds of jobs, maybe
find a job where I could work my way up in a business. I’m planning
to leave sometime early next week.” Walter and Margaret both
started to talk at the same time, but Clay held both hands up and
silenced them. “I know I could stay right here and do the same
thing, but I’m young and single, and this is a chance to travel and
see some parts of the country I haven’t been to before I settle
down with someone.”

Walter spoke up first, and was in agreement
with Clay, “I think it’s a good idea and you’ve got my support. If
you need some money to tide you over let me know and I’ll make you
a loan. Take all the time you need.”

Margaret sat chewing on her lip, waiting
until Clay had taken his package down to his room before starting
in on Walter, “I don’t agree with you on this” she said sharply.
“He could have stayed right here and changed jobs until he finds
something he’s more suited to.”

“Yes, he could have. And he‘d continue to
hang out with Tony Giliano. This way he gets out of town for awhile
and breaks the tie, even if for just a month or so. I’d rather see
him find a job in another part of the country if it means getting
away from those gangsters. Because mark my word, if he doesn’t he’s
going to end up in trouble.”

Margaret was looking for something she could
take some solace in and said “Well, he did mention settling down
with someone didn’t he?”

Down in his room, Clay lay on his bed and
thought about the white lies he had just told his parents.
Technically he could argue he hadn’t told them out right lies, but
his conscience told him it was a pile of bull. Lately, situations
had been arising with increasing frequency where he was being
forced to lie to them routinely in order to keep them out of his
private life. “And what a life it is. I’m a hired killer,” Clay
said out loud to himself. Since Tony’s shooting and his role as
vigilante he had bumped heads with his mother more and more often
about his involvement with Tony. Since he didn’t intend to alter
his life, the only choice was to back out of theirs. He'd need to
separate himself from them so they wouldn’t be privy to his
actions. He was drifting further and further away from Margaret. He
would never have believed it would ever happen. But it was
happening and he was preparing to cut her out of his life even
further. Funny, how changes seemingly so unrelated can have such an
impact on other aspects of life. Who could have guessed that he
would develop a knack for killing people? He still didn’t know when
it developed fully. Why him? Why was killing the first thing he'd
done well and actually took pride in?

When Margaret and Walter had gone to bed and
were lying beside each other she spoke again about Clay. “I’m
concerned about Clay. You’ve been very good to my son and I
appreciate your effort. You’ve done a good job raising him, and
being a father for him.”

“I told you when we got married I expected
you to be a mother to my kids and I would assume the role of Clay’s
father. We’ve both carried out our end of the bargain and we have
good kids to prove it. Clay has drifted into dangerous territory,
hanging out with a bunch of hoodlums, but he’s a good kid with a
good head on his shoulders. He’ll get straightened out and do all
right. Just be patient with him and give him some growing
room.”

Walter reached over to his nightstand, turned
out the light, and rolled over toward Margaret. Circling her body
with his arm he pulled her close and gave her a series of kisses
while running his hand up and down her back from her shoulders to
her butt, where his hand finally stopped.

Margaret chuckled and said softly, “I guess
now you want payment for being a good father? Well big boy, and I
do mean big, I want equal payment for being a good mother too!

Half an hour later, after Walter had gone to
sleep with a smile on his face, Margaret was still awake. She
couldn’t put Clay out of her mind. I hope I’m worrying
unnecessarily about Clayton. I just wish he hadn’t been drawn to
Jimmy Giliano, and hadn’t become so involved with Tony she thought
to herself. Walter has been a model father to him, but they never
did hit it off, although Walter did everything a father could do to
foster a close relationship. Scouting, baseball, camping, fishing
and then football, always available to talk things over, help with
homework, and provide counseling when needed. Even though he had
his own son, Walter Jr., he always avoided showing any favoritism
to either one. I used to feel guilty about accepting Walter to be
his stepfather, but I know for a fact his birth father wouldn’t
have tried nearly as hard as Walt has. He still gets discouraged
because Clayton seldom shows any outward signs of affection or
acceptance of a father son type relationship. Now Clayton is an
adult and he chooses to spend more time with that damned Tony
Giliano than he ever spent with Walt. He never asked Walt to go to
a ball game, play golf or just go out for a beer. I’m actually
surprised Walt is still concerned about his actions and how it
could affect his future. Affect his future! I just pray to God he
has a decent future. I live in fear he’ll get even more involved
with those outlaws. I don’t know how I’ll make it if he commits
some horrible crime. I pray he doesn’t get in trouble with the law
and get sent to jail because of his connection to Tony and his
thugs. Please, please Clayton don’t let me down.

On the day before he was to arrive in
Knoxville Clay drove south from Chicago, across Indiana and
Kentucky into Tennessee. After spending the night at a motel a few
miles east of Nashville, he arose early the next morning, ate
breakfast at a truck stop and drove to the Knoxville airport. The
truck was left in the long term parking lot where he got a cab.

He arrived at the bus station at eight thirty
in the morning. The old station was typically dirty and had a worn
out look; a place where few people would feel comfortable upon
arriving, and most would be eager to leave. Clay bought his ticket
to Asheville and stopped at the news stand to buy a magazine,
picking out one about firearms. Walking to the concession area he
bought a large Styrofoam cup of black coffee and took a seat at a
small table near the far wall. The articles in the magazine were
interesting, but some of the terms he was reading were new to him;
muzzle velocity, drop, foot pounds of force and the other technical
lingo were things he would have to learn more about. He was
wondering if he would be contacted before he got on the bus, or
when he arrived in Asheville. At nine thirty he had finished his
second coffee and decided to move. He left the table in the
concession area, stopped by the rest room, and then took a seat on
a bench out in the terminal waiting area. He had just gotten seated
when a woman sat down beside him and said “Well, hi there stranger,
I haven’t seen you for a long time” Clay looked up at the woman and
stared blankly for a few seconds, then replied “I’ll be damned; it
was in Miami, wasn’t it?”

After boarding the bus the pair sat next to
each other near the back and chatted casually as if they were old
friends, each making up things to say, playing on what the other
one had just said. There were only eight other passengers on the
bus; most of them had taken seats near the front upon getting
aboard. The woman appeared to be about thirty six or thirty eight
and wore no makeup. She had her long black hair pulled back and
tied off, and would probably be attractive if she wanted to be. She
was wearing a pair of designer jeans with designs stitched on the
rear pockets, a thin, faded, blue flannel shirt, laced hiking
boots, and a well worn, short, brown leather jacket. Her skin had a
medium tan; she was about five feet seven inches tall, slender and
appeared by her quick and graceful movements to be in good physical
condition. He had been told to address her as Joan and she called
him Joseph. She was saying “I’m so surprised and happy to see you
here.”

Clay, feeling rather cocky and playful
replied “Good, we can plan to have sex tonight, like we did our
last night in Miami.”

The woman smiled and reached over to gently
take his left hand in both of hers, giving it a soft squeeze. She
slid her left hand down the top of his hand toward the beginning of
his fingers. Suddenly she grasped his two smaller fingers, and bent
them back until an expression of acute pain replaced the one of
surprise on Clay’s face. “Watch your mouth” was all she said,
softly and quietly but with enough firmness to make him take her
seriously. She released his hand, lay back against the seatback,
relaxed, and closed her eyes.

Clay flexed the fingers on his pained hand to
see if there was any permanent damage or if anything was broken.
Christ, I was just joking he said silently to himself, and then he
too leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes; keeping the
fingers of both hands loosely curled into fists in his lap.

The arrival time in Asheville was listed on
the bus schedule as two o’clock in the afternoon for the one
hundred and fifteen mile distance. The highway wound through low
tree covered mountains of the Appalachian range causing the bus to
take much longer than the distance would seem to require. In
addition to the rugged terrain to be traversed, the bus stopped at
every town on the route, and even between towns to take on or
discharge passengers. Shortly before one o’clock, the woman nudged
Clay out of a light sleep and said “Wake up, we’re getting off
here.” He pulled the blue bag out from under the seat in front of
him, and stepped out into the isle. Standing beside his seat he
allowed the woman to exit and walk in front of him toward the bus
driver. Clay followed and listened as Joan direct the man to let
them off at the next road to the right, about a half mile ahead she
guessed. The bus pulled to the shoulder of the two lane black top
highway and came to a stop where a gravel side road intersected.
The door across from the driver opened for them and the driver left
the bus to retrieve Clay’s suitcase from the luggage compartment.
As the bus pulled back onto the highway Clay followed Joan away
from the roadway to the edge of the woods. Joan leaned against a
huge oak tree with her right leg straight and her left leg bent at
the knee with her foot against the tree trunk.