The Storm Giants (12 page)

Chapter 26
: The Scope Out

The girl had her hair in
a blonde pony tail and stood with the centered poise of an ex-gymnast or ballerina. Daddy had paid a fortune for those lessons once upon a used to was. She was supple enough it looked like she didn’t have a bone in her body. If she’d been the cop show character Everett watched thrown off the roof on TV last night, she would've just bounced a few times like a rubber ball before coming to rest on her feet.

H
er eyes had seen too much, and her grim mouth reflected the fact. Her face had the lines of someone who’d experienced too many strong emotions, too young and too often.

In contrast
the guy next to her was a doughy couch potato type, with the pasty skin of someone who spent a lot of time indoors. He was dressed in an off the rack black suit and tie with white shirt.

The odd couple made the rounds of the bus terminal
, working their way through the riff raff as if picking and choosing. The girl spoke to the tweaker mom with the three kids. The mom nodded at the blonde’s words and fell in step with the procession building behind.

Whatever her criteria
, the girl bypassed some people in favor of others. She spent a few seconds with each person she opted to speak with. Some of the people she chose looked surprised, but most seemed to have expected her.

“They’
re checking people out too hard,” Everett said out the corner of his mouth. “You’re the front man. Cover me up boss – make me invisible.”

With a giggle
, Tobias hauled off and slapped Everett’s face with a crack. Tobias said, “Pipe down, fool.”

The blonde was approaching
and Everett hung his head like a chastised child.

“What’s the story
?” the blonde asked, looking from Everett to Tobias and back.

“Just putting my bitch in his place
,” Tobias said, reaching up to put one arm around Everett’s shoulders. “This is my boy and I look out for him. He’s not all there, like in Mice and Men, you know? I gots to keep him from stepping on his dick sometimes.”

Tobias gave
Everett’s shoulder a squeeze. “But I’m the only one gets to fuck with him, see?”

“What ever floats your boat
, chief,” the blonde said. “I’m just here to ask if you’re hungry.”

“We could eat
,” Tobias said.

“Well
, I’m Celeste and this is Aaron,” she said, cocking her head toward the doughboy next to her. Aaron looked at Everett and Tobias like he didn’t have much use for either of them.

“We got a place
nearby where you can fill your bellies if you like,” Celeste said. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Otis
,” Tobias said.

“And you?”

“Henry,” Everett said.

Up close
, Everett saw the long healed track marks running up and down the insides of her arms. The keloids from old abscesses. The branded cutting scars of self mutilation across her wrists, which was the wrong way, the cuts should’ve been up and down the length of her forearm. She had a tattoo on her cheek, a tiny bird almost hidden by make up.

Aaron
lit up when he saw the wounded eyed David.

“You’ll be coming too
,” Aaron said, and David gave him a shy smile.

Celeste s
wayed over close to Everett, her lip wrinkling in distaste as she caught a good whiff of the garbage juice he was marinated in.

“You been dumps
ter diving?” she asked.

“Something like that
,” Everett said.

Chapter 27
: Pack Predator’s Prayer

Celeste and Aaron led the
raggedy band of transients from the bus station. The refugees who hadn’t made the cut looked after them with mopey expressions. Both grimy tramps were still out cold on the bus depot floor as they left.

T
here was a carnival feel to the small procession. For some of the crowd, this would be their first meal in days.

“You kn
ow I was just funning back there at the terminal, right ‘Henry?’” Tobias said as he walked next to him. “Course, I could hit you again if you think it’ll help any.”

The drinkers outside the liquor store show
ed no surprise at the parade rounding the corner to Phil’s house. Two guys opened the double gates as the crowd approached, with welcoming smiles.

Floods lit t
he yard, illuminating the entrance of the guests. The Christmas lights made the house a present waiting to be unwrapped.

The area inside the
fence was bigger than it looked from outside, with rank shrubbery and small stunted trees almost overpowering the open areas and walkways. At least half a dozen out buildings surrounded the house proper, making it improbable they’d be able to find the gold without assistance.

The people waiting in front of the house
were a mixed bag, yet with a close family look to them. They were all clean and dressed professionally, even if none of their clothing was high end.

When
the bus terminal crowd neared them, the people of the house all stepped forward and mingled as if on cue, meet-and-greeting the newcomers with wide smiles like ambulatory mannequins pimping whatever.

“Welcome
,” a squat Middle Eastern looking dude said to Everett, and they pumped hands a few times. He clapped Everett on the shoulder and moved on to tousle the hair of the little boy who’d played with the dead cat at the terminal.

People
surrounded Everett in a jostling Brownian motion of fellowship, touching his shoulder and beaming acceptance. Everyone was bonding and laughing,

Tobias’s
had been swept a little ways away by the swirls and eddies of the mob. He had a claustrophobic look to him. This big inclusion trip was suffocating him, and he was about to choke on their love bomb.

The residents of the house trooped inside dragging their new guests with them
, all part of the same pack now. The dining room had a table running its length, with platters of steaming provender crowded with food and drink.

Phil held
court at the far end of the table, talking to a clot of attentive listeners. The big ex-hippie wore the same corduroy suit coat and tie-dyed tee-shirt he’d worn in the dossier photo. He had a pot belly, which hadn’t been evident in the upper body shot included in the file.

Phil hugged a
large black girl as tall as him. She laughed, clutched him back hard and rocked him in her big arms as she beamed toward the ceiling mocking bedroom ecstasy. Phil saw Everett and he started to smile, but Everett looked away.

Everyone took their seats
and Celeste’s warm dry little hand fumbled at Everett’s from his left. Everett held her hand and reached to the right to take Tobias’s.

T
he entire table had joined hands in a ring of fellowship, with Phil seated at the head. When Phil closed his eyes and bowed his head, everyone else did the same.

Phil spoke
in a penetrating baritone: “You examine it rationally, compassion looks like a real gyp. You cough up spare change, your wallet is that much lighter, right? Even chipping in on a potluck feast uses whatever food you’ve accumulated.

“
Sharing isn’t just expenditure of energy and resources. It puts us at risk – either by drawing the attention of predators, or by our good intentions being taken advantage of. Yes – you look at it objectively, altruism makes no sense at all in the context of a Darwinian universe.

“
But what we have makes perfect sense. It’s stood the test of time. Our species began as pack predators. Self aware animals to whom the tribe was everything. That hasn’t changed: concepts like or charity and community aren’t ideals on our end of the street. For us, they’re day to day necessities for our family’s survival.

“
We’ve all faced the cold winds of rootlessness. What we’ve made together is all we have. What all of us would kill for, do anything for. We remember our friend Terry, who showed us by going all the way.”

“Terry
,” Celeste and a few of the others whispered in unison. Everett had pretended to close his eyes but kept them open a slit. As he snuck a peek at Celeste, she was smiling.

Phil
nodded benevolence as at an expected ritual response, and continued: “Altruism arose in bands small enough you knew every member of your tribe, just as we all know each other. We remember who helps us, and who doesn’t chip in. We work together, directing our energies toward friends who are grateful for our aid, and who return the favor when need arises.”

Phil open
ed his eyes and looked toward Aaron at the opposite head of the long table. Aaron had his eyes open as well and the two locked stares. Phil closed his eyes again, and after a moment, so did Aaron.

Phil continued his spiel.
“We don’t want to waste our efforts on parasites, or those who betray our family’s mission. Here, your reputation – your name and face – are vital. For us, compassion is a tool we need. Not some high falutin pie in the sky delusion.

“Our most dang
erous glitch is our ability to short circuit the compassionate impulse. Other pack predators have submission rituals to forestall in group violence. The group does not prey on itself except to cull those needing expulsion.

“
But we humans intellectualize our interactions, and we’re always looking to demonize the ‘Other.’ Many of us have experienced that first hand.”

Several people murmured
agreement, and the big black girl said “Amen.”

Phil
said, “History is filled with genocide and war, crime and murder. Pretty good evidence the urge to compassion was overcome on that particular day. But that’s the outside world. That can’t be us, amongst ourselves.

“Out there
it’s one big global pool of strangers. We’re not part of their in groups, and our pasts put us beyond the pale unless we’re willing to crawl. None of us will, or else we wouldn’t be banded together here.

“Amongst ourselves
, we’ve laid down the sword to live in harmony. We give of ourselves for the sheer pleasure of giving, and for the good we can do each other. Our altruism is about survival, my friends.

“
Never let deceit and selfishness infect us. Never become alienated from one another. Never mistake that kind of hubris for power.”

Phil opened his eyes again
and looked around the table, a master sermonizer appraising his congregation. Phil had missed his calling, not being a radio announcer or a voice over actor selling product.

Tears poured down David’s cheeks
as he absorbed Phil’s words. Phil saw David weeping, and smiled.

Phil’s voice went
resonant and intent. “When people think about the teachers of love, they usually don’t put Nietzsche or Saint Darwin on the list.

“
Throughout Nietzsche’s career he taught the Superman, attacking Christianity’s calls for pity and compassion as folly. Anti-life and preservation of weakness that should be winnowed from the gene pool. Nietzsche was damned by his association with those who misinterpret him as ludicrously as Saint Darwin was abused by earlier scoundrels.”

Phil stared at the table top
, speaking low. “Saint Darwin didn’t say we should be slaves to evolution, he merely pointed it out as fact. It’s up to us whether we stand against the cruelty of man and nature, or use evolution as an excuse to victimize each other.

“
Nihilists and convicts use Nietzsche’s teachings to justify pure power without remorse or pity. Some of us have fallen for that error before. It’s a dead end if we don’t have each other, brothers and sisters.

“
Everything is a lie but love. It’s the only thing that will save us, or humanity is doomed. We will consume ourselves.”

Phil pulled his hands free from the circle and clasp
ed them in prayer in front of him. Everyone else opened their eyes and let go of each other’s grasp. Tobias’s glare turned sheepish as he pulled his hand free from Everett’s.

Phil
said,” In the end, Nietzsche exposed his true self to the world. On a cold winter day in Turin, not long before entering the first of the mental institutions in which he’d finish his life, Friedrich Nietzsche witnessed a man beating his donkey.

“
An ass, a beast of burden, the lowest of the low. A master punishing a piece of property that happened to be alive and capable of feeling pain – a scene that has played out billions of times in the history of the world. Nietzsche’s response was immediate. He rushed forward and embraced the ass, shielding it from its master’s blows and weeping uncontrollably.

“
In one of his last sane acts, the father of the Superman gave way to unrestrainable pity for the suffering creatures of the world, embodied in that lowly donkey. In the end, Nietzsche wept.”

Phil
said, “I would die for this family.”

Phil’s performance
had been convincing throughout, and this declamation seemed just as heart felt. This was a very charismatic man sitting in front of Everett.

At the other end of the ta
ble from Phil, Aaron echoed him. “I would die for this family.” Aaron got lower grades for stilted delivery; he didn’t ooze sincerity as effectively as Phil.

After Aaron’s j
ump in line the table went in order, counter clockwise, with each person in turn saying the words: “I would die for this family.”

Their deliveries were a
s varied as their personalities – loud or soft, clear or mumbled. But every one of them looked like they meant it.

To his left
Celeste called out in clear bell like tones, “I would die for this family.”

A
nd then all eyes were on Everett, who hesitated, his mind racing.

Phil
stood, both big white hands raised to stop Everett’s delivery: “No, no, you can’t say it yet. We know it would be a lie, and you haven’t earned the right anyway. We have to prove ourselves to each other. There’ll be time enough for you to say those words if that’s what’s fated.”

“And now
,” Phil said, getting a cheater’s head start by grabbing the bowl of mashed potatoes and ladling out a big spoonful onto his plate, “Let’s eat.”

There was good natured laughter
and the meal commenced.