Saints or Martyrs?

Connor stepped out of the small corner store with Murphy on his heels. Instead of turning right and heading back to their apartment, they turned left and crossed the street ending up in a small park. They could hear a bluesy melody drifting toward them on the afternoon breeze.

Connor dropped some change into the open guitar case while Murphy carefully sat the bottle at the blind musician's side.

The dark face lit up with a smile. “My two favorite Irish boys. I was hoping ya'll would drop by.

“Ye didn't think we'd forget today did ye? Tis not every day a body turns 100.” Connor said.

“Aye,” Murphy grinned “Especially a body that still comes to tha park luggin a old guitar. We had ta bring ye a wee nip for yer birthday. Boone's Farm Strawberry wine. I don know how ye can drink tha stuff but it's yer day Cletus.”

“Well thank you kindly gentlemen.” Cletus said “But I was hopin ya was gonna drop by for other means entirely. I think ya need to know, things ain't right round here. As my my Mama Liz woulda said, 'Old Splitfoot ain't up to no good.'”

“Somethin fashin ye Cletus?” Connor asked.

“Yessiree, fashin me something fierce, as ya'll would say. Been nigh on to a couple of months now. One thing I learned over the years is that you Irish folks is damned near as superstitious as us old Swamp dwellin negroes. We got us our voodoo, and ya'll got yourselves your banshees and fairy mounds.

Look here, I kin see better bein' blind than most people kin see with perfect eyesight. Cause it ain't my eyes I'm dependin on. I hear, I smell, I feel, I taste; that's how I see. I hear things walking that ain't walkin on two feet or even four. I smell brimstone in the air, I feel the insects running by me trying to get away from what ever is out there. And I can taste decay in the rain.

All this is tellin me that things is happenin around here that don't mean no good to nobody. You boys watch yourselves. All them things ya mama said was hidin in the closet or under the bed, we'll they ain't hidin no more” The old man stopped talking and started picking out a tune on his guitar and singing softy to the melody.

 

 

 

I think I hear the sinner say

Let God’s saints come in

My Saviour taught me how to pray

Let God’s saints come in

 

I hope to meet my brother there

Let God’s saints come in

That used to join with me in pray’r

Let God’s saints come in

Didn’t Jesus tell you once before

Let God’s saints come in

To go in peace and sin no more

Let God’s saints come in

Come down, angels, trouble the waters

Come down, angels, trouble the waters

Come down, angels, trouble the waters

Let God’s saints come in

 

The twins listened to the old man till he had finished. “That's a old spiritual we used to sing way back when I was a little boy. Back when things was bad in Mississippi.” Cletus said. “I'm thinking that askin for angels to be troubling the water right now ain't a bad idea at all.”

*****

Shiva looked at the sign over the door of the little restaurant, The Silver Peso.

“What are we doing here?” Lilith asked. “Looking for another nobody?”

“No, looking for a somebody, Lilith.” Shiva sighed. “You have no patience, destroying your Saints, making them reject God? It takes patience. You don't go for the death blow immediately, you work up to it.”

“What does a Mexican restaurant have to do with them?” Lillith asked. “They're Irish!”

“They are also friends with the owner and his nephew.” Shiva anwered.

“So we're going to kill them?” Lilith asked perking up.

“No of course not. Killing everyone is not going to work either Lilith.” Shiva shook his head exasperated. “If you kill everyone, what is left? No the purpose here is to let them know that you can kill everyone. We want them to realize that no one is safe from us; not their friends and not their family.”

*****

Eunice and Juan were sitting at the table in Smecker's kitchen. Paul Smecker looking tired. There were dark circle's under his eyes and he was still in the rumpled clothes he had been wearing the night before. “Finish your breakfast.” Smecker said “Then we'll talk.”

“Paul, was the report that bad?” Eunice asked.

Smecker stopped with a forkful of omelet halfway to his mouth. “Yes and no. I've worked crime scenes just as bad if not worse, but it was never someone I knew. It's kind of hard to detach yourself when it's a friend.” he put the food in his mouth and chewed.

“This Greenley sounds like he was a good guy.” Juan said pushing his plate away and picking up his coffee cup. “Seems everyone had good things to say about him.”

Paul stood up and grabbed the empty plates setting them in the sink. “He was a good guy even if he wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer.” Paul picked up the coffee pot and topped off their mugs.

“He was possibly the horniest though.” Eunice said with a small smile.

Smecker smiled a bit as he sat down “Greenbeans certainly never met anything in a skirt that he didn't like.” He picked up the envelope that had been sitting next to his plate and opened it. He pulled out a photo and laid in on the table. “Take a look at his right arm.”

Eunice was looking closely but her mind kept going back to the fact that it was David Greenley in the photo. It was Juan who saw it. “They skinned a part of his arm?”

“My God,” Eunice said. “We have to tell the boys.”

*****

Duffy and Dolly were sitting at a booth near the back of the Silver Peso. Romeo and his uncle both had shot of Tequila sitting in front of them. A small box was sitting in front of Duffy.

“I don't know who they were man. Just some guy and a women with red hair.” Romeo said.

“When was the last time you spoke to Connor and Murphy?” Dolly asked

“Right before we went to Mexico, we just got back last night.”

Duffy looked down at the box. “Then you don't know, Greenley is dead. He was murdered almost two weeks ago.” Duffy touched the top of the box. “Whoever did it peeled off a piece of skin from his arm. I think that's what's in this box. It looks like it anyway.”

“Fuck!” Romeo yelled. “That puta is the one who took Murphy!” Romeo stood up “Tio, you know where I'll be.”

Romeo's uncle stood up. “Si, I have calls to make. I remember what they look like, and they don't look like La Raza. If they show their faces around here again, I'll call you.”