As promised, chapter 23!!

Missed older chapters? Catch them here!

“So we’re supposed to go back to Somerset, then?” Jake broke the silence a few hours later.


“Yes, brother. We’re going back. For the next ten days you’re going to go back to work at the shop. If anyone asks, you and Jo went to Vegas for a holiday, ‘to get to know each other better’ – say whatever you need to say,” James replied, all business. Fallon was snoozing, leaning on the dog. It was a sight to behold.

Jo did not have anything to say, it seemed. “Yes, but where did you and Fallon go? Everyone knows Fallon – especially after the party,” Jake asked, if only to get the story straight so no one got caught in a lie.

“Fallon and I flew to New York for work – that’s all. Jake, I have a really stupid question. Do you have a passport? I don’t recall you ever leaving the States. Have you ever left the States?” James queried, ignoring Jo’s sudden interest in the whole conversation.

“I, uh, yeah, I have a passport. No, I’ve never been out of the States,” Jake was completely embarrassed. Here he was, part of a team of trained militants that made weapons of mass destruction, and he had not even been out of the States. Not even to Canada. Face awash with pure shame, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“Oh, Jakie-poo. You poor thing. Why haven’t you gone anywhere – for a holiday? To visit some strange land and have wild sex in a back alley with a woman who can open a beer bottle with her va-jay-jay? Nothing? Nowhere? Never had dysentery from lentils? Never been drunk ‘down under’? Nothing? OH MY GOD!” Jo exclaimed – unconsciously making the whole situation worse. “Now you’re about to embark on a journey – into the unknown, to a land where everything is dark and mideval?” she spoke loudly with so much bravado that Fallon and Hootch were woken.

“What’s this shit about the dark and unknown? Devil woman, could you shut up? The damned dog and I are trying to get some sleep!” Fallon snapped irritably while Hootch whined a little. Within seconds they were settled against each other again, with Hootch resting his head on Fallon’s lap. Fallon was a first-class jerk most of the time, but to Jake, Fallon could not have looked anymore innocent when he was asleep – with Hootch.

“Yeah, I never really could find anyone to take care of the shop and well, it’s really quite expensive to get tickets to Europe and Asia,” Jake fumbled.

“You’ve actually seen a girl open a beer bottle with her va-jay-jay then, Jo? I suppose it was in Bangkok,” James said, diverting the conversation easily.

“Oh my, my. You have to go to Bangkok when you have the chance. Most Americans – sorry, not most Americans, but most white people bypass the city and stupidly waste their time lounging at the beach and sunning their fat assess on Thai islands, but no sirree, not me! I know that city inside and out. I also have a couple of buddies, but I’d rather Jake not know them... mostly because I don’t want him to sleep with a pros-pros! He should be sleeping with me, dammit!” Jo said, raising her voice again.

Fed up with all the commotion, Fallon came alive and began to speak – through his teeth, “Listen here, you raven-haired pain in the arse, I will seriously force Jake to pull over and throw you out if you don’t tone it down a little.” He smoothed Hootch’s fur and began again, “Now tell me, what’s all this talk of pros-prossies, huh? I do want to know. The moment sex comes into play I’m all ears,” Fallon said with a regal air.

“Sorry, guys. Pros-pros?” Jake had to ask before the conversation changed and he would be left in the dark.

“Geez, Jake, prostitute? You couldn’t figure that out? Good thing you’re easy on the eye, if not you’d be one dumb, ugly motherfucker,” Fallon replied.

Never one to be openly insulted by a man with a moustache and purple shoes, Jake replied, “Yeah, well, at least we all know that I have never needed a pros-pros before! And furthermore, I’ll have you know that I am one good looking, dumb motherfucker. Two words, melon. Fuck. You.”

“Whoa. It’s getting interesting. The Builder talks back now. The Builder talks smack now! The Builder uses words like ‘furthermore’ now! Ooo, you’re classy. But, I have the benefit of knowing The Art of War. Bait me further and feel my wrath!” Fallon laughed out.

Just like that, the atmosphere in the car improved and everyone was back to being rude to each other, everyone was playing again, everyone seemed happy. Jake would have to wait to speak to Jo properly – and seriously – about her father. He wanted to know more about her, and he had no intention of giving up. He may hate what she was involved with, but he was in love with her and nothing would change that.

With another full day of driving left, the four of them continued their banter within the confines of the Hummer. It was actually better that the U-haul had been abandoned. Jake figured it would probably be sterilized and sent back to the rental company by someone inconspicuous. There were arguments about Jo’s trance music, Fallon’s moustache, and Hootch’s breath. The drive home was going to be easy, it seemed.

***

Half a day later, they passed the dodgy motel where they had been attacked. Fallon insisted they go back there, just for reminiscent purposes. The vending machine was still there, the bullet hole evidence of a violent scene. There was a small patch of mud which was ruddy with blood – where they had piled the bodies. Apart from that, no one would ever know what had happened there. The families of the poor soldiers who were acting on protocol and orders would be told that they died honourably, defending the country. Jake stood at the vending machine again, empty save for the occasional candy bar that Jo did not fancy and had not stolen.

He thought about the poor American soldiers in Afghanistan and Iraq, how they followed protocol and orders, only to be court marshalled for doing what they did. He hated America and everything it stood for. A couple of weeks ago, he was the happiest, most patriotic American he knew. He used to supply fireworks for the Fourth of July parade, had made Jordi hang a flag on the front porch, listened to every single speech given by the President since he was seven. He used to love his country. Dynaco changed all that.

Jo was running around repeating her Psycho act, Fallon was Norman Bates again. This time he was stabbing Marion Crane in the shower – all the while pretending to be a woman. Jake wondered if they ever got tired of fooling around. They were brilliant, they deserved to play the fool like normal people yet Jake somehow could relate to how the General felt when Jo was doing the whole Ultraman act. It was a very serious and stressful moment, and she was fooling around. Jake began to wonder if her nonchalance and flippant behaviour had anything to do with the way she handled stress.

“Good job, Foster. Psycho-analyse the poor lady. Good job,” he muttered to himself.

James was on the phone again blathering something about how stupid the Jessup County folk were, they had not jammed the mobile phone signals when the “take-down” happened. Was he giving advice to them? It sure seemed so. As Jake washed up in the toilet which ironically had no running water, the other three prepared to continue the journey. Fallon would be driving, so everyone agreed that they had to stay awake – because Fallon, it seemed, “drove like a woman”.





Look out for a new series of flash fiction pieces I'm writing! The first one was Percy The Great. I'm calling the series of short stories "The Circus". Also worth your time if you're not into reading entire stories like The Builder. Cheers!