The Good Men

I dashed up to the top floor, pressing my hand against the damp wall as I gasped for breath, stopping right in front of room 109, which, by sheer luck, had its door ajar. The neon lights flickered ominously, casting an eerie glow in the dimness. I pushed the door open slightly wider and peered inside, searching for any signs of life. The window stood wide open, allowing the relentless noise of the gritty city to flood in. Below, the streets buzzed with the unmistakable sounds of junkies, dealers, sex workers, and various troublemakers from this rough downtown area, each vying for their piece of the action. A filthy crystal ashtray was crammed beneath the lone open window in the musty, dilapidated hotel room. The air was thick with a nauseating blend of mildew, sweat, alcohol, cheap perfume, car exhaust, and cigarette smoke, making me gag and cough into my sleeve.

Daniela lay sprawled on the unmade bed, dressed for church yet seemingly lost in her own thoughts. With a racing heart, I approached her still figure, collapsing to my knees in reverence. A slender medical needle rested beside her, and an array of pills scattered around her like fallen leaves. A wilted midnight blue rose, weary and lifeless, sat on the stained nightstand next to the disheveled bed, accompanied by some drug paraphernalia. Her scarred and haunted face was pressed against mine, a stark reminder of the beauty that had once been. The vibrant woman I had married had faded into a fragile shadow of her former self after years of addiction on the streets. I reached for her emaciated wrist, searching for a pulse, but my heart sank as her skin felt cold beneath my touch. Her heart had long since ceased to beat. As I wept uncontrollably, my cries echoing into the open doorway, I noticed a shadowy figure moving toward me from behind. Turning around, I saw a heavyset young man, his back to me, striding down the creaky hallway with the confidence of an athlete. Dressed in the latest hip-hop style, he caught me off guard. Overcoming my initial shock at the unexpected presence, I attempted to rise and confront him, but before I could reach the door, he slipped through the fire escape and vanished into the dark alley. Back in the room, my weary eyes caught a glimpse of something metallic glinting on the floor where he had stood, and I bent down to pick up a medical bracelet, slipping it into my pocket.

Now, to whom do you belong? I squinted at the embossed side, wishing I had brought along my reading glasses.

The passage of time had stolen my love from me, yet it didn’t erase the memories that flooded my mind, nor the yearning to embrace her once more. With a bittersweet smile, I recalled a song that had been our anthem, and I began to hum it softly, just as I had during those intimate moments we shared. I cradled her one last time, tenderly brushing her hair away from her face, allowing her to find peace. I held her tightly, swaying gently for several minutes, lost in my own world, unaware of the police officers making their way up the stairs to her apartment. Suddenly, they burst through the door, weapons drawn, ready to apprehend me. They slammed me face-first onto the grimy floor, and I lay there in a daze. As they pulled my arms behind me and fastened the handcuffs around my wrists, a grimace of discomfort crossed my face. My thoughts were solely on Daniela, my beloved, lying on the stained carpet, her gaze vacant and lifeless. The ride to the police station was eerily quiet. I had become the prime suspect in my ex-wife’s death, despite her being absent from my life for over two decades. I was still reeling from the shock of her decision to reconnect with our sons and me. So much had changed that I could hardly recognize her. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would see her again. Yet, there she stood at my door, her unforgettable, quirky half-smile and messy shoulder-length hair beckoning me to welcome her back. I noticed she had attempted to revive the vibrant red she once sported during our time together, but now her hair resembled lifeless moss, falling out in clumps as she sat in the living room. My two strong sons regarded her as if she were a ghost from the past. My eldest, Elijah, muttered something about getting a drink as he brushed past her. Daniela reached out, touching his arm and asking for the same. He paused, processing her request, before nodding and heading to the bar. I stood there, bewildered and unimpressed. When he returned, she took a sip and praised his bartending skills. “How come now?” I eventually approached Daniela and inquired. “What brings you here after all these years to try to reconnect?”

She signed while shrugging and looking at me. “I figured now was as good a time as any.”

I nodded thoughtfully, wondering what she meant, but our youngest son spoke up before I could ask for an explanation. He swore at her. She claims she should have done it years ago instead of taking her sweet time to visit. He became enraged during the reunion, and he tried not to cry as he held him close and apologized for his rude behaviour. “It’s not every day he meets the parent who abandoned him.” I looked back at my son. “That abandoned all of us,” I said as I pressed my head against my sobbing son’s. I included glumly. “Why did you wait so long?” My oldest son, Jacob, asked her. “What made you decide to come back?”

Daniela shook her head and asked if she could just sit for a bit and rest. With the help of a cane, she hobbled to the nearest chair and plopped down tiredly. “I can’t bring back the years I’ve been gone, but I’ll give you a reason why I’m back. Better yet,” she paused thoughtfully, “let me just show you.” She reached down and calmly rolled up a pant leg, showing off the scars, bruises, and thick blue varicose veins that covered her scabby legs. I could see the gangrenous blotches and sores that weren’t healing. She scratched away at her unshaven legs and then announced, “Boys, I ain’t going to lie to you, and I fear I ain’t got long for this world.”

I was immediately sick and sad. Part of me knew it had to be from her life of taking so many street drugs and injecting so much of them into her veins that the tissue itself would eventually become gangrenous and infected. Her blood would develop cancer. Her body would rot away, mirroring the emotion I was experiencing as I looked at her. Yet, deep down inside, I was still in love with the woman I had married—the one I would have to say goodbye to for the rest of my life when her time came. I just never thought that it would be in some seedy hotel and that I would be suspected of being her murderer.

My eldest son was the first to arrive. I was placed in a cell with the other detainees. I smirked to myself as I noticed how well that officer's uniform fit him. My boy has arrived to save me from a crime that I did not commit. Someone murdered my ex, and I will find him no matter what.

“So-” I glanced up from my folded hands. How have you been?”

Jacob gave me a look and motioned for the cell to be unlocked. He put his arm around my shoulder as I stood up to leave. “Pop, this is not the place for you. You can do better than this.”

“This had nothing to do with me.” I shuffled alongside my boy, still trying to figure out what was going on in my head. “I just needed to see her alone, without every one around.”

“I understand, pops,” Jacob said as he closely followed. “I just wish she hadn’t bothered to contact us in the first place. Even if the news was bad.”

“I know you both thought I needed closure, but... I don’t think any of us, especially me, were ready to do it,” I said, looking him in the eyes. “I have far too many memories of her that are as vivid in my mind as if they occurred yesterday. Nobody ever made me feel like your mother did when she was my wife.”

“I realized that afterward, too.” He looked around as we walked to the department that kept my things. “If you want, we can go talk father to son, and there’s a greasy spoon just down the precinct.”

“I’d like that,” I agreed, and I looked up at my boy.

After a few minutes of walking to the old diner, I inquired, “So, you know?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “She’s with the coroner right now.” He stopped to face me. “I know you didn’t do it, father, but why the fuck did you agree to meet her at the hotel? I mean, on your own, in that seedy neighborhood. You could’ve been mugged or worse.”

“I can take care of myself,” I huffed. “After all, I was a bit of a scrapper in my youth. I’m no stranger to the streets.”

“You were a wrestler in high school, Pop.”

“Hey,” I pointed out, “I also boxed when I was in the Army National Guard.” I pointed at him and said, “And I never once pulled my punches.”

“The point is that was a long time ago.” Exasperated, Jacob rubbed the side of his face. “You may think you’re still spry, but,” he added, “the world isn’t what...

“She called me, son,” I interrupted, “and said I should drop by; that she had something important come up.”

Jacob shrugged. “Did she say what?”

I shrugged, “maybe she needed closure as much as I did?”

He tilted his head in consideration and placed his arm around me as we walked. “Could be…”

In the greasy spoon diner, we sat at a table in the corner, having finished a meal and having a coffee before going our separate ways, discussing the good old days when his mother and I were a team against the world. As we chatted, Jacob became his old self. He laughed and started to share the memorable moments of his time with her, and then the conversation just ended as quickly as it had begun. We sat across from each other in silence, sipping our coffees and watching the world outside.

“Well, pops, I must get back.” Jacob and I stood to face each other. My old bones popped and creaked as I stood to embrace my son. The walkie-talkie on his belt sought his attention, and he turned to turn it down.

“So, am I in trouble?”

“No, I’ll handle this. You’re good to go.” Jacob sighed and shook his head. “Just between you and me, you interrupted a sting operation, and she was our only lead. I just find it strange as to why she had decided to contact you?”

“Dunno, really.” I looked down at my weathered hands and at how old I felt. Helpless to my own volley of questions.

I gathered up my coat and hat and then paused to look up at him. “You sure she was an informant?”

Jacob said nothing as he put his police cap back on. His demeanor changed to that of someone I didn’t recognize. “Just go home, pop, and leave this alone. I am already in trouble having to explain why my father was visiting a drug-selling prostitute during a sting operation.”

Those curt words he spoke winded me.

He might’ve been my son, but he said something that made me snap. Before I could stop myself, my fist struck him square in the jaw. His head went back, and his legs buckled under him. He went down faster than Patterson, losing to Ali in the twelfth round. Every person in the diner stopped to watch as I stood over my cringing son.

“She was once my wife—but still your mother, for Christ’s sake—so show her some goddamn respect.”

Jacob nodded his head and looked around. I brought my hand out for him to take (which he did). I grimaced as he got up. I was winded and breathing as if I was going to have a heart attack right there, not because of my health but because, for the first time in my life, I struck my eldest son.

Jacob had a bruise above his left eye. I felt horrible and went closer to inspect it, but he pulled back, unamused. “I have to get back to work. You should go before someone in here calls the cops, this time to do more than just question you.” His hand pulled back when he touched the wound on his face.

Conflicted about whether to correct my son or take the hint to leave, I pulled out my wallet, tossed a few bills on the table, and turned to leave. “I just want you to know that I can take care of myself.” I reached the door to leave as the bell above jingled.

Jacob bent down to pick up his police cap. “Just let it go, Dad.” He brushed off the cap with his hand before putting it back on his head. “I can’t handle losing another parent.”

“Just don’t forget that you and your brother are coming for dinner this weekend so we can all watch the game.”