Fiction

When Toxic Rivers Flow Conclusion

A Sunny Alexander-Johnson and Henry James Series By P.G. & Sharon Barnett

My name is Sunny Alexander-Johnson, and I’m Henry James, and we’re writers for Dark Sides of the Truth Magazine.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

The ambulance had taken Roberto and Tim to a hospital in Brownwood, so we followed the police back to town and then into a housing subdivision on the north side, pulling up in front of a large two-story brick home. The three of us got out and leaned against the car as a handful of the police swarmed the front porch, and two others went around the back.

The sounds of one of the police officers pounding on the door continued to disrupt the tranquil peace of the early morning until a middle-aged gentleman in his pajamas and robe opened the door.

We’d have loved to report Charles Edmonton, the CEO of Uttar Textiles was happy to make our acquaintances, but it was clear to see he wasn’t a very happy man at all.

Quickly handcuffed, the police escorted him off the porch, his wife screaming at the officers, demanding to know what was happening, why her husband was being led away.

“Huh, the secrets a man keeps from his wife.”

“Say what Robert?”

“Ah, nothing, Henry. It’s just sad. Edmonton’s wife probably had no idea what the man was doing all this time.”

“What do you think she’d have done if she knew?”

“Hard to say.”

“Honey, you better not ever keep secrets from me.”

“Oh, like the one I need to keep from your mother, dear?”

“What are you talking about, Robert?”

“Sunny, think about it. How do you think Cynthia’s going to react when she reads this story? What you did to distract two armed men? What Henry and I did and the fact there was gunfire and three men died? And what about Roberto and Tim being packed in barrels like sardines and almost being tossed in the Colorado River? Does that sound like an average day at the office to you?”

“Does to me.”

“Yeah, Henry, but you’re not Cynthia, and Sunny isn’t me. Neither of you two are trying to see this from our perspective. How losing either of you because of something like this would completely rock our worlds and the worlds of Dante and Alicia. Both of you are being about as selfish as two people could possibly be.”

Although Robert’s tone was unquestionably understated and controlled, his message stung both of us.

“Oh, we’re having that discussion are we, Robert?”

“Yes, baby we are.”

“Look, Robert. Sunny and I realize some of the shit we’ve done has been plain crazy. But that was before we had our tribe. Before you and Manny and Donnie Sullivan and Roberto came along. We’ve been on our own for a long time, little brother and…”

“Well, you’re not on your own anymore, Henry.”

“Let me finish. We’ve been on our own for so long, we just kinda, well we just kinda forget you folks are around. What I’m trying to say Robert is that you’re right.”

“I am?”

“Yes, baby, you’re right. Henry and I have already talked about this. We agree we need to do what we do smarter, and we need to make sure everyone knows what we’re doing, where we’re going to be and how we’re going to get there.”

“So I guess this means neither of you is going to come out of the field?”

“Baby steps, Robert. Baby steps.”

“I guess that’ll have to do for now, Henry. Why don’t we head over to the hospital and check-in with Roberto and Tim?”

We found Roberto in a waiting room down the hallway from Tim’s hospital room. Aside from a slightly swollen jaw and a few minor scratches, he seemed nonplussed at the fact he’d been hours from drowning to death in a steel coffin.

“How are you, dude?”

“I’m good, Henry. I’ve taken worse beatings in the ring from a pair of eight-ounce boxing gloves. The doctor said Tim was busted up pretty bad. Three of his ribs broken, his left jaw, one of his arms in two places, and cuts and gashes all over his face. It’s like somebody beat him with a two by four.”

“Or a bat.”

“Yeah.”

“Can we see him?”

“I think it’ll be okay. He’s been sedated, and they’ve got him in casts and his head all wrapped up in gauze. He kind of looks like a miniature mummy.”

“I’m sure Rice has been called a lot of things, but never a mummy.”

“Just wait till you see him, Henry,”

As laughable as Tim Rice looked, the very nature of how badly the man had been beaten quickly put a damper on things. His right arm was covered in a cast, the top edge just beneath the short sleeve of his hospital gown the entire cast encasing arm all the way to his wrist. From just above his eyebrows, his head was wrapped in gauze, and the left side of his face was severely bruised and swollen.

“Man, they beat the shit of him.”

“Yeah, Henry, they did. I guess the sedatives the doctors gave him kicked in. I think he’s out of it.”

“Yeah, well, we gotta jet anyway. We’ve got to get back to the house, load up and head home. You going to stick around?”

Roberto nodded.

“We’ll see you then.”

We turned to ease out of Tim’s room and had just made it to the door when Tim’s weak-sounding voice stopped us. When we turned, he was gazing at us, his eyelids slowly drifting closed and then open again.

“Henry? Sunny?”

“Hey, Tim. How it going, brother?”

“Uh, I think my current situation is rather self-evident, Henry.”

Everyone in Tim’s room snorted with laughter. Even though Tim would never admit to it, his deadpan, pragmatically correct, delivery style seemed to humorously fit most situations. Especially this one.

“Yeah, Tim. Look, we just wanted to check in with you before we headed out.”

Tim tried to shift into a more comfortable position, winced as he sucked air into his lungs through gritted teeth then decided against moving and became still.

“About this story. I don’t know about Roberto, but I wasn’t prepared for this. This went bad in so many ways. I could have got us both killed.”

“Ah, man, it could have happened…”

“To anybody. That’s what you were going to say, Henry, but I don’t think so. I should have listened to Roberto at the beginning. I had a chance to discuss this with him before you guys showed up. We want you and Sunny to take the by-line on this.”

“What?”

“This is you two’s story now. I want to distance myself as far from this memory as possible.”

“You positive about this, Tim?”

“Positive Shaundrika.”

“And you, Roberto?”

“Sure Sunny. There’s always another story out there, right?”

“Yeah, always another one.”

“We’ll make sure nobody steals your spot in the bullpen until you get back.”

“Oh, I’ll be back, Henry. Dark Sides still needs somebody in that bullpen who can keep the lunatics at bay. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some mending to do.”

“Then it’s settled. Henry? Looks like we’ve got some work to do. You ready?”

“Ready when you are, princess.”

Thank you so much for reading. You didn’t have to, but I’m certainly glad you did.

Sharon & Paul

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