Blaze of Glory

As if to answer him, he felt another piercing point of pain upon his right knee cap. Buckley shook his leg violently until the Maggie fell to the floor. There he stomped on it, squishing it to the floor with his heavy-soled boots.

Yeah. He was next, all right. Fucked he was. Fucked real good.

'Excuse me.'

Buckley turned to find Samuel and Sissy lugging the wrapped body from the bathroom.

'We couldn't wait,' Sissy murmured.

They dropped the long parcel by the front door.

'That should hold him a bit.'

Buckley couldn't help but admire how far Samuel had come. He placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. 'Let’s hope so, son.'

But Samuel shrugged away.

'What's wrong, Samuel?'

'Fuck that. It’s only a matter of time before we all die.'

'I don’t know about that. I mean-'

'What? Like we’ll survive? Like we're gonna get out of this like there's some sitcom solution?'

'We could. Why the fuck not?'

Grandma Riggs crowed from the living room. 'No. No. No. No. No. No.' The word sounding like doom.

Everyone turned and watched as Grandma Riggs raised her boney arm to point a skeletal finger at Buckley. After a moment of panic, he turned to Samuel and Sissy, a grin squeezing through his shame as he tried to redirect their attention. 'So what’s for lunch? Are you hungry, Samuel?'

But Grandma Riggs wouldn't be ignored. “Icka bicka soda cracker, icka bicka boo, icka bicka soda cracker, out goes YOU.”

Feeling like a child, he ignored her as best he could and sought to propel Samuel into the kitchen.

'Icka bicka soda cracker, out goes you.'

Jerking his elbow away, Samuel frowned, glancing back and forth from Grandma Riggs to Buckley. 'What’s she talking about now?'

'I dunno.'

'You know exactly what I’m talking about, Mister King of Garbage Lies. You know exactly what I mean Mister Maggie Man.'

'What?'

As if in slow motion, Buckley watched as Sissy leapt away from him, stumbling, then sprawling to the floor in the hallway. Samuel lunged for the shotgun leaning against the door jam, latching onto it microseconds before Buckley. Samuel brought the gun level as time resumed.

'She’s talking about you, isn’t she?' Samuel growled.

'Me?'

'Yes you. You’re Icka Bicka Soda Crackered, aren’t you?'

'I am not Icka Bicka Soda Crackered.'

'You were telling us we weren’t fucked and here you are Icka Bicka Soda Crackered. How the fuck could you?'

'What the hell are you two talking about?' growled MacHenry stomping out of the bedroom.

'They got him. The maggies got Adamski.'

“Icka bicka soda cracker, icka bicka boo, icka bicka soda cracker, out goes YOU.”

Buckley stomped in frustration. It wasn't fair. After all he’d done it was going to end this way. There had to be a way. There had to be a chance. He thought of a dozen things to say, but all he could do was scream at the top of his lings, 'I am not Icka Bicka Soda Crackered.'

The apartment fell silent as everyone stared at Buckley. Even the trumpet playing had stopped.

In a quiet voice, just loud enough for the others to hear, Buckley repeated the words he only wished were true. 'I am not Icka Bicka Soda Crackered.'

Little Rashad ran into the room carrying the glass jar. Smoke rose from the open top. A gray sludge coated the bottom. Unlike the others in the room, his smile was broad and wide.

'I got it, Mr. Adamski. I killed your Maggie. I figured it all out for you.'

God was fucking with him. That’s what it was. This was one great game of let’s fuck with Buckley. He rolled his eyes and hung his head.

'Aren't you happy, Mr. Adamski? I found the secret. Aren't you happy?'

'Sure kid.' He closed his eyes as Samuel cocked the shotgun. 'I'm fucking thrilled.'

CHAPTER 14

Buckley sat on Bennie’s shower-curtain-encased body, back against the door, hands on his knees, bound with packing twine. A semi-circle of salt had been poured around him blocking him off from the rest of the house. When they’d come for him, he'd gone down without a fight. He shouldn't have deceived them like he had. He'd put them all in danger.

'Reversal of fortune. Ain't that a bitch.' MacHenry sat on a foot stool, smoking a cigar, pointing the shotgun at Buckley. He laughed softly, then took a long toke of the Havana.

'Bound to happen sooner or later,' Buckley shrugged.

'I suppose.'

'What happened to flame on?'

MacHenry flipped open his silver Zippo lighter and stared into the flame for a moment. When it got too hot for him to hold, he turned it off and rubbed the metal against his leg to dissipate the heat. 'Flame on won't work anymore.'

'What do you mean?'

'Would you believe I fell in love?'

'What'd you do that for?'

'I don't know.'

'Your timing’s pretty pathetic.'

'Isn’t it though? Who would have thought I would have found someone like Gert at the end of the world?'

'She was there all along, you know.'

MacHenry’s eyes brightened. 'That’s what she said. Said, I wouldn’t have given her the time of day, else- wise.'

'She’s probably right.'

'I suppose.'

'It’s the choices we make.'

Buckley groaned audibly as a maggie popped free under his pants leg. The way he was hogtied, he couldn't get up. So like an upended crab, he shook his legs, until finally it slid free. When it hit the floor, he toed the nasty little beast into the salt where it smoked to nothingness. MacHenry watched it play out non-plussed, then spoke as if nothing had happened. 'I wanted to be a lawyer, but I drank my way out of school. Became a car salesman. Same thing in a way.'

'I wanted to be a soldier.'

'So why didn’t you?'

'They didn’t like my heart. Said it murmured.'

'Murmured.' MacHenry giggled. 'Like it had something to say.'

Gert stuck her head out the kitchen door. 'Dinner will be ready in a moment, hon. We’re having Vienna Sausages, peas and peaches in heavy syrup.'

'Oh Yum.' MacHenry licked his lips in mock sincerity.