Eliot Strange and the Prince of the Resistance

31) Finding Dad

 I ride only four blocks when I come to the still smoking section of downtown. Before the rain came, the fire spread to at least half a dozen other buildings. I can tell which of the buildings was blown up by the One Nation Army from the pile of bricks that is still smoldering days after someone was blown to the moon from its roof.

I get off my bike and look at the collapsed building that is still as high as a two story building. Is my dad buried here?

I'm not the only person here. I reach for my gun but before I pull it out, I hear the man cursing. He tosses a brick into a smaller pile he has made and curses it as it lands. The man is looking for something obviously lost and under this pile of bricks. I approach him with caution but without my gun drawn. As soon as I get close enough to see who it is, I pull my gun.

The man is Mr. Thomas. He is as dirty as I am now and he looks like he clawed his way out of a tar pit earlier too. The only difference is that his face has streaks on it where it looks like he was crying or maybe sweating rivers. He sees me, and I hesitate because I can't understand what I am seeing. Why is this evil man, I once called a good neighbor, digging in this pile of bricks?

Mr. Thomas drops to his knees like he's praying and starts to sob. I just watch him because it is obvious he has lost someone close to him, and though I hate him for being the turncoat he is, I understand grief now. And it is not easy to watch or interrupt. I let him cry and when he finishes he tells me why he is crying.

"Your dad. He's gone. My friend is gone. Joe is gone."

Rather than ask an obvious question, I ask the most important question now, "How do you know he's gone? Did you see it?"

Mr. Thomas nods.

"Were you with them, were you with One Nation when they blew him out of the sky?"

He nods. No hesitation, nothing. He just admits his guilt.

I raise my gun to shoot him, but my hand is shaking.

"Go ahead," he says, "I deserve it. I screwed it all up. This is all my fault."

I want to fire. I cock my gun. My hand is shaking so bad, I can barely aim it. I've never executed anyone before, even when they deserved it. Mr. Thomas is clouding my thinking because he keeps on talking, like he is confessing.

"I told your mom this would not work. I'm not that good of a liar."

Oh, yes you are.

"She said we could do this, he trusted us. He trusted her most of all."

"My dad, of course he trusted her."

"No, the Professor, you know, the General now. Your mom thought he trusted us, but he didn't trust her at all. He sent me to spy on her, to keep an eye on her. I told her and rather than run away or go for help, she said we could play this both ways."

"Both ways?" I ask because I am confused.

"She said I could pretend to be bad, but I'm not good at it."

Oh yes, you are good at being a bad guy. "I saw you, saw your house and your supplies, saw you with those men, saw you at the Stadium. You had the prince, or thought you did."

"I don't know which is which. Those men, they look like twins to me," he said. "I'm not good at this. I worked with money and numbers. I don't pay attention when people give me details.  I figured at the time, it didn't matter."

"But you were at the stadium. You ordered them to fire. I saw it."

"Come on, Eliot. I was playing the part. I gave them a chance."

"A chance?"

"Who do you think loaded the gun with blanks? The one your cousin fired at the girl who almost blew my cover. Who? Who do you think did that?"

"You?" I ask because I can't believe this. "Why?"

"I'm sorry about that prince and his cousin, but I was desperate to save your mother. Desperate. I figured I could trade whoever I had for her."

"Why do you care about her?"

"I love her. I always have. I loved your dad too, but now he's gone." He starts to cry again.

"How do you even know them?" I ask. "You only moved here a year or so ago. You never met my dad."

"Friends. Friends since college. I met them through the professor. We were under his spell at first, but we realized we were following a monster. I left, I was too scared to help them stop him. Your dad left too, later. Too dangerous, he said, we got a kid now. But your mama, that angel, that brave, fearless angel always said - if not us, then who?"

"College friends? They never mentioned you. I never heard about you."

"I'm Clem. Clem Thomas. Your dad called me Clementine. It was a joke. He called me Darling sometimes too."

Clementine. I had heard my dad talk about him. My dad always said he stole my mama from Clementine. I never knew Mr. Thomas's first name. I guess I didn't care. All I can think to say is, "My mom and dad were friends with Clementine, and there was Booger and Carrianne and Spider."

"Yes," he says. "We were all great friends. Booger is dead now. Cancer. Spider died not long ago. He shot up one of the schools, then killed himself. How could he? Got a job at the school and then killed kids he'd been helping everyday. He was gone by then, gone to crazy. And Carrianne? You must be talking about Kerry One. That's the professor, well he likes to call himself the general now. He's crazy now too. But we all used to be great friends. We were all going to save the world one day." He stops long enough to sigh and say, "The professor is quite mad. He hides it well, but he is a psychopath."

No kidding. General Nation is insane, and Mr. Thomas is too.

"Mr. Thomas, you're a liar, and I should kill you for what you've done. I should."

"Yes, you should," he agrees.

"Where's my mother?"

"Gone to Stuart with him, the general. He'll never let her go. He calls her - his queen."

"Why did they retreat? Leave town?"

Mr. Thomas points at the pile of bricks and then me. "First resistance they've encountered in weeks. Retreated to re-group and wait for another group to join them. Then, they'll be back."

"How did you get away?"

"I didn't get away. He thinks I'm looking for you. I'm to find you, then find the prince. Only then can I return."

"So, why aren't you looking?"

"Because," he is crying again and the words are coming out in spurts. "Because I'm trying to find Joe. He is under here. And I must..." He picks up a brick and tosses it in his pile.

I notice his nails are broken and bleeding. He must have been digging here for days.

I am cold hearted these days. I'm not sure I can believe anything Mr. Thomas says, though he seems convinced my dad is buried already. I say very calmly and without emotion:

"Mr. Thomas, I am not going to kill you today, but if I ever see you again. I will kill you. I won't hesitate. I won't ask questions. I will shoot you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he says. "I understand."

"Don't follow me. I don't have the prince. You'll never find him because he is gone. He has gone home. If you see the professor, tell him that. And if you see my mother, well tell her I'm gone too. Don't come looking for me. Do you understand?"

Mr. Thomas nods once and turns around and starts back on his impossible task.

I am too numb and too tired to cry. I pause to say a quick prayer that Mr. Thomas finds my dad and gives him a proper burial. My daddy deserves that much.