Reckoning

I've one night to set right what was done to my family. One night to take the pound of flesh that's been owed. To my left and my right stand my brother and sister. Three wounded souls who thought this night would never come.

What were you doing when you were seven years old? Watching cartoons? Hoping mommy and daddy wouldn't put you to bed before the really good ones came on? That's not what I was doing. I was watching men with guns stand in my home and drag my mother and father out of the front door to never be seen again.

No one cared about the three kids the men left behind. No one wanted to hear our cries about who took our parents. They just separated us and left us to survive the mistreatment of foster parents who only wanted a check. I spent years growing up in strangers' homes, plotting my revenge. I made myself strong. Fought, did anything I could to be ready, but fate took my chance away when they sentenced Eddie O'Sheeran, the head of the Irish mob, to life in prison.

I almost forgot about the hate I carried in the years and decades that passed after he was incarcerated. That was until my morning coffee was interrupted by news I thought I'd never hear. Eddie O'Sheeran was being released.

Part One- Sandlewood Nursing Home, 8 pm

My eyes floated on the name tag pinned to the chest of the nurse behind the front desk. The black letters cut into silver read, Corinne.

"We don't usually have appointments this late." For the first time since we'd come through the doors wearing unfamiliar uniforms, I felt the bundle of nerves I'd been holding down in the depths of my gut threaten to explode.

"I don't know. They gave us a pick-up order, so we're here. You'll have to call the hospital and ask them if you have any questions." A flash of frustrated annoyance swept across her features before she spoke.

"I've tried calling the hospital and my director. The phones aren't working." Of course, the phones weren't working. My sister Carli was outside making sure they wouldn't. "Mr. O'Sheeran did have an appointment with his cardiologist today." And there it was, the opening I was looking for. I stole a quick glance over to my brother Conor before I spoke.

"I can't tell you what to do, but we can't stay here waiting all night. We have other calls. And, if an accident or emergency happens, we'll have to rush out of here." Shaking my head, I look down at my shoes before putting on what I hope is a sympathetic look and meet her eyes again. Then with my best, I'm only trying to help voice, I go on.

"Look, you can tell us to leave and we'll go, but I wouldn't want to be you or this facility if something happened to Mr. O'Sheeran. You said he had an appointment with his cardiologist today. I'd hate to think they saw something wrong with his heart from one of his tests, and that's why they want him back. If he has a heart attack, our team or another one will get here as fast as we can, but if he dies after, you didn't let him go. This place and maybe even you are going to be liable." With that, I let my words hang in the air. I saw the moment she gave in to her doubt. It was written in the lines of her face and the droop of her shoulders.

"I'll get Mr. O'Sheeran."

Part two-Burk Street Warehouse, 12 am

The entire scene laid out in front of my eyes is surreal. Ancient warehouse floors are covered with a thick layer of dirt. Stale smells of undisturbed air rest inside large metal walls that rise tall in the empty, cavernous space. Wrinkled skin tied to a chair stares back at me from the center of the emptiness. An old man named Eddie O'Sheeran wears an oddly peaceful look on his face while he waits to find out what we're here to do.

How long have I dreamed of this moment coming? How long have I waited for answers? My whole life, since I was seven, has been spent waiting for this man to be in front of me. Taking in a heavy breath, I attempt to prepare myself for what I am about to do. Then I step forward and ask the man who has haunted my every thought a question that is only a prequel to the one I really want answered.

"Do you know who I am?" His weathered eyes study me for a moment before he answers.

"Am I meant to know you?" My blood boils hot. Before I can think about what I'm doing, my hand curls into a fist and meets the wrinkled, aged skin on Eddie O'Sheeran's chin.

Grabbing him by the collars of his night shirt, I say. "You best be remembering the face of a boy when you take away his parents." Wincing from the pain, he stretches a smile that doesn't meet his eyes before he opens his mouth.

"I'm not one of those pervi’s Duncan. I don't make a habit of filing away little boys' faces." His confession laced inside the syllables of my name sends shards burning hot with rage through my body, and before I can stop myself, the knuckles of my fists slam against the skin on his jaw again. Carli grabs my arm, and slowly, I bring my emotions back under control.

Eddie wipes blood from the corner of his mouth with a liver-spotted hand. Stepping back in front of him, I demand.

“Tell me what happened to my parents.” He looks at me, and I think I see what looks like empathy flash across his features before he steels his expression again and speaks.

“I already told you, lad, I don’t care who your parents were. I don't remember them.” Claire is the one who hits him this time, smacking the palm of her hand hard against his cheek.

My voice is low and filled with gravel when I speak. “How about I pull those night pants down and cut away something you do care about. Maybe then you can remember.” Eddie laughs at me before he chuckles his reply.

“Oh, that hasn’t worked in years. Get your shears out, boy, and have at it.” Carli steps forward and leans down until her face is only an inch from his. Her voice has a tone I’ve never heard coming from her when she begins.

“Maybe we shoot each of your knee caps, then your wrists, and your elbows before we pull your teeth and nails out one by one.” She moves her face closer to his, so close that the tip of her nose touches his, and adds. “ I’m thinking somewhere along that journey you’ll remember what happened to our parents.” Standing back up straight, she pulls her gun from the waistband of her pants at the small of her back and puts the barrel against the top of his right knee.

Letting out a huff of air, Eddie brings his eyes up to Carli's glaring ones and says. "You know why they released me, lass? I'm sure you've caught some wind of it. My ticker doesn't want to tick anymore. And lovely cancer has riddled every part of my body. So, go ahead and pull your trigger. My old, tired heart will beat its last beat before you get to my other knee." Carli presses the gun's barrel down harder, and I know she's going to pull the trigger, before Conor's voice stops her."

"Carli," She looks back at him, still holding the gun in place. "Put it away. We're going to take him back." Before I can register the shock of what he's said, I'm already responding.

"What do you mean, take him back? We're not doing that."

"Duncan, he's not going to talk."

"So he doesn't talk, Conor. We can still kill him."

"Why?" Is he serious? Eddie O'Sheeran took our parents, that's why we should kill him.

"He took our parents. He won't tell us what he did with them. That's why we kill him. If we can't have answers, we can at least send him to his last gig."

"He's already dead, Duncan." Silence hangs heavy in the air for a long, lingering minute before he continues. "Time and fate are gonna take care of him. A life is a life, vile or not. Let cancer end him. There's no need for blood that won't be pumping in a couple of months to be on our hands."

Part three- Sandlewood Nursing Home, 3 am

The ride from the warehouse to the drive we're currently sitting in was one of the worst of my life. Every thought, every frustration from the time the man in the back took my parents until now has replayed in agonizing clarity. This night that was supposed to bring closure has only made my hurts and unanswered questions grow louder. Turning to my brother and sister, I let out a breath of defeat before turning to the man who ruined a good part of my life, Eddie O'Sheeran.

"Get out." Hearing my words, Carli opened the door of the van we'd painted up to mimic a local ambulance and waited for Eddie to leave. He sat unmoving, looking back at my eyes with a questioning gaze before he spoke.

"That's it. I can just leave? You're not worried about what I might say? You could go to jail for kidnapping." I didn't care anymore. I don't think Conor or Carli did either, all these years of waiting and nothing to show for it. As much as I should be concerned, I just couldn't muster the effort.

"You're going to do what you're going to do. Just get out of the van." Eddie continued to hesitate before he looked down and kept his eyes on his feet as he let his words go.

"Your parents helped hide a man who tried to kill me. I don't think they knew what he'd done. They just saw a man running for his life, and they helped him hide. I didn't want to do what I did to them. But I didn't have a choice. The gunman had killed my daughter in the attempt. My response had to be strong or my enemies would have tried again. Everyone involved had to be taken care of. Even a couple of innocent working people." His words hung like a thick fog coating all of us in their ugly, grey truth. With a sigh, Eddie continued. "It may mean nothing to you, but your parents were good people. Their ghosts have haunted me more than any of the others." Eddie went silent again, and Conor asked the question that was on all of our minds.

"Where did you bury them?" Eddie's shoulders slumped, and his head hung lower.

"North Pier 27, about twenty feet straight off the end. You can have them brought up if you want, but they're lying down there together in a metal coffin enclosed in a wooden crate." Eddie swallowed something down in his throat before he found his voice again. "I did the best I could for them. I didn't want to take their lives." Bile rose in my own throat as I continued to listen to him. "The crates, weighed down with a heavy chain and a lock. Your parents will stay down there forever if you let them. And they've been resting there since the night we took them. If you need a place to mourn them, there won't be any more beautiful. The other side of the bank is covered in trees. But like I said, you do what you want." With that, he slowly rose from his seat and left the van. With one last look, he gave us the closure he could. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. Your parents should have had a better sending. They didn't deserve to meet a man as evil as me." With that, he turned and walked away. Carli reached out and closed the van's door. I moved the gear shifter to drive and drove away. Turning out of the drive, I took the left toward North Pier 27. None of us spoke on the way. We were too lost in the thoughts of finally knowing.