The Devil's Pet

Chapter 3

Thursday June 19, 2008

Sean walked off the train with the rest of the crowd and headed for the exit. The doctors told him he shouldn’t drive because of his head injury. He couldn’t remember the last time he took the train downtown to Chicago. He walked out of Ogilvie Station and got in line for a cab. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying the bright sunny day but him.

Throbbing pain still emanated from the wound on the back of his head. Despite the heat, he wore a wide brim hat to cover the bandages. Sunlight only served to make the pain worse so he added large frame dark sunglasses with side lenses. He felt like he was on the lam, instead, he was going right into the lion’s den.

When it was his turn he got in the back seat of a cab and said, “eleventh district police station on West Harrison please.” 

The cabbie scanned him in the rearview mirror and nodded. As they pulled away from the curb Sean could see the cabbie staring at him in the mirror. After a minute or two of erratic driving, even more so than normal for a cabbie, Sean pointed forward and said “Shouldn’t you be watching the road?” 

The cabbie replied in a thick Indian accent “You be the man I see all over on TV, right?” 

Sean sighed and said “Please, just drive.”

Still watching in the mirror the cabbie said “Okay, okay I be leaving you alone, but I must say, you’re a very, very brave man.” 

“Thank you, now please, just drive.” Sean said.

He stared out the window as they drove on in silence.

Sean thought about what the cabbie said. This was the same drivel the news people had been pushing since it happened six days ago. He killed three men and saved his daughter from certain death. Since then, his picture began appearing in the newspapers and TV news reports.

Reporters had been hounding him from the minute he got out of the hospital three days ago. They were everywhere, even camped out at his house. Some of the more obnoxious ones tried to follow him. He was told they knew he would be at the police station today, so he was expecting an unpleasant experience.

He steadfastly refused to speak with any of them. In his mind, they were parasites living off the misery of other people.

He would have none of it.

Today, he almost missed being in the hospital, at least there they didn’t let the reporters in.

They were calling him a hero, saying he saved his daughter and killed the bad guys. Some hero he was--his daughter was catatonic and he had killed a man in cold blood then lied about it. Not that he had a guilty conscience over the killings. He did what he had to do. It was the lie that hooked him.

This was no ordinary lie.

Sean kept assuring himself that he was a good man. He’d lived an honest decent life and raised a daughter to adulthood. Wrestling with the truth is one thing but the law is another story. In his experience the law wasn’t about truth, it was about proof. Sean knew that if he told the truth regarding Earl’s death, he would probably spend a long time in prison.

All his life he followed the rules. From the time Cathy was born he made it a point to instill fairness and honesty in her. Hiding this horrific lie caused him physical pain, burning deep inside like a road flare at night--its blinding glow lingering in his mind as a bright pestilence. But as hot as it seared inside, Sean wasn’t willing to go to prison for the likes of Earl and his companions.

He kept telling himself those men he killed were somehow less than human, not civilized people. They had no conscience, they killed without reason or remorse and that’s what made them less. Civilized people care about others, not prey on them. No matter how much it ate at him, Sean knew he would keep it buried deep inside. He had to.