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All the Angels Come - Chapter 15 - PREVIEW

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Dark Side of the Moon

Jay’s chest expands for a deep breath, and locks pinkies with Ricardo. Ricardo, chin up, shoulders back, reaches for Masuyo’s hand. Masuyo squeezes back gently while her hair flies in a sudden river gust, and with her other hand, links fingers with Willis, tall and serious. Four blue jays fly in place above their heads drafting the wind, and the police radios scream.

 

“Bendiciones en el viento,” prays Ricardo as Lieutenant Sharon Holmquist collapses to the ground.

 

 

The two boys are strutting their stuff home with a bounce in their gate. The guitar pick mosaic for Dad tucked under the older brother’s arm. The younger brother with the stash of cash from Val’s’ FreshFarm bucket stuffed in his pockets.

 

“The leaf stacker was awesome eh? She got moves!” they laugh.

 

“The lunatic is on the grass,” the brothers sing in a crude English accent, anticipating they will be on the grass as soon as they can roll one.

 

The laughter trickles when Dad’s pickup isn’t in sight when they turn the street corner. The black macadam driveway burns through their sneakers. Together they jerk the single car garage door with an extra tug because it always gets stuck.

 

The afternoon sun floods the inside illuminating swirling dust particles accelerated by the gust from the opening door. The sound of rust against rust sends chills up both their spines. They grimace at each other and shake it off.  The smell of aged oil and greasy rags fill the room. The pile of boxes labeled “Mom” have been moved to the far wall. The junk and yard tools are stacked to the side and Dad’s truck with the Jesus sticker in the window and a pink ribbon on the bumper sits with the tailgate down. On it are two marine radios and a nautical map.

 

 

To be continued.

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angels@jumpingfish.net

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