Nemesis - 14. Chapter 14: Gangs of Chicago: Retribution, Resolution, and Revolution

Gangs of Chicago
Part 4: Retribution, Resolution, and Revolution

Nomos

This time, I called Garreth before translocating into his home. He offered coffee, stuttered for a moment, and then changed the offer to tea.

“I’ve been in the States for over a hundred years,” I said. “And I’m a Chicago policeman. Coffee would be very welcome, thank you.”

Nemesis came in while Garreth was pouring the coffee. I began the debriefing.

“We found several handguns, ammunition, two ounces of marijuana, and a baggie of cornstarch in the gang’s clubhouse. They had taken over the rec room of their apartment building, and chased the other kids out of it.

“Other than Alan’s fingerprints on one of the guns, it was impossible to connect any of the contraband with any individual; and, of course, Kenny and Viktor were healed, so the attack on them was essentially nullified. I didn’t dare bring you and Nemesis into this. You must understand why.

“I’m afraid we had to release them all.”

Nemesis

My disappointment must have shown; Nomos apologized, and then added, “Even if we were to charge Leroy and his crew, and even if the DA decided to prosecute, and even if they ever came to trial, and even if they got sentenced, their sentence would be suspended. Anything short of murder is pretty much a petit crime, nowadays.”

He looked at me, and then said, “There’s no reason you can’t act, however. If you decide to do so, I would like to go with you.”

Nomos morphed into the London policeman. I figured that meant he thought I should do something. I looked at Gary, who nodded.

“Be careful, please?” he asked. I glanced at Nomos, and then kissed Gary on his cheek.

We found Leroy alone in his bedroom. It was the room of a child of wealthy parents. Huge, flat-screen TV; computer with 35-inch monitor and separate HD web-cam; some sort of high-tech game system; and a major sound system that was pumping decibels through the walls and floor. Nomos gestured, and the sound system went quiet. Couldn’t say the same for Leroy.

“Oh, fuck! You’re the kid with the sword. Who are you?” This last was addressed to Nomos.

“I am the dispassionate and disinterested observer,” Nomos said. His voice was flat, almost like a telephone answering machine robo-voice. That frightened Leroy more than our appearance did. The boy … well, he couldn’t turn white, but he seemed to become ashen.

“You cut two boys,” I said. “You cut them bad. All because you wanted to make points with some bad people. You’re just a kid, but you want to be an evil kid.

“Leroy, you’re a piker. You don’t know what evil is. You’re a little fish in a big pond. You are so not bad. Compared to me, you’re an angel. Did you know that Kenny and Viktor thought I was an angel?

“They were so wrong.”

I looked at Leroy. He was scared, but he was also a little bit defiant. There is hope, I thought. I grabbed his hand.

“Come on, Leroy, we’re going for a ride.”

I took Leroy on a trip not unlike the one my predecessor had taken me on. I showed Leroy the bad things he had done. I was right; other than cutting Kenny, nothing Leroy had done was really bad. Then, I took him to some of the places Death had taken me, and showed him the real evil that exists in the world. I showed him children coughing out bloody bits of their lungs in a factory that made plastic water bottles from petrochemicals, including benzene. I showed him children gasping in 120-degree heat, crawling through the narrow seams that were all that was left of the old Newcastle coal mines. I showed him children with distended bellies, dying of starvation while food aid was taken away by armed men. I showed him girls having their clitorises cut off with a sharpened rock, and then their labia sewn together, all without anesthetic or antiseptic. I showed him children chained in basements, hoping for rescue from the sexual predators who had bought the children from their parents.

When we got back to Leroy’s bedroom, he was shaking. Nomos grabbed him, and helped him sit down.

“Leroy,” I said. “My job is retribution. But, it’s also justice.

“You have two choices, and only two. I think you know what they are. If you don’t know, then there is no hope for you.

“Make a choice.”

Leroy’s choice was the right one.

“I will take it from here,” Nomos said. “Thank you, Nemesis. This would not have happened except for you and for your belief in Leroy.

“I know Dike has told you that we need good people,” he continued. He was talking to Leroy as much as he was talking to me. “People … humanity … invented us, the elder gods, the spirits … to fill the vacuum of their understanding.

“As humans’ understanding of the world and the universe has increased, they’ve found explanations that do not require us. As the influence of Yahweh’s followers has increased, more people have found reasons not to need us. That is not right. They need us more than ever before. They need Truth, Justice, Law, and Healing, the things that Yahweh promised, but does not provide. They need the old gods and the old avatars more than ever.

“Leroy has made his commitment. If he agrees, I will take him for my own. It will take a while to instruct him, to bring him to power.

“Leroy, if you agree, we will start with the things Nemesis showed you just now.”

Leroy nodded. Nomos and I both saw his sincerity—and a little fear.

“May we visit you, occasionally?” Nomos added.

I nodded, and then, remembering something I’d seen in Leroy, I kissed him. Leroy was surprised, but he made it a good kiss. I’d never kissed a black kid, before. Not even in my old life. Didn’t taste any different, I thought.

Nomos offered his hand to Leroy. The boy looked from me to Nomos, and then took Nomos’ hand; they vanished. I turned off the electronics in Leroy’s bedroom, looked around, and then popped back home.

After I told Gary what I had done, and what had happened to Leroy, he hugged me, told me how proud of me he was, and then asked if I’d like to go to a picnic on Saturday. I giggled. Gary is so grounded in reality (and in his schedule).

“Saturday is our day. You would have to share this one with Bobby and Benji … and maybe Viktor and Kenny, too,” he said.

You are mine, now and forever, I thought. Bobby, Benji, Viktor, Kenny … all the boys at Erewhon … they’ll never have as much of you as I do … even though I don’t have as much as I want …

“Sure, I said. As long as it’s okay with you, and since you suggested it, I guess that means it is.”

Erewhon played lot of soccer. They had one of the few soccer fields left. The public schools had to shut theirs down because they couldn’t afford to maintain them. The parochial schools still played soccer, but Gary refused to allow Erewhon to play in the parochial league when he learned that they were exempt from all the health and safety regulations Erewhon had to follow … and, that they took advantage of those exemptions, endangering their students. They also prayed, loudly, before each game, asking their god to smite their opponents. I don’t think Gary liked that very much, either. And, he really got pissed off when he caught one of their coaches proselytizing a couple of the Erewhon students.

Viktor

The email came from Bobby. My soccer team was scheduled to play at Erewhon, the orphanage where Nemesis had taken Kenny and me. After the game, my team was invited to a picnic. Bobby’s message read, I know Kenny isn’t on the soccer team, but can he come, too? He can be my guest, if that would make it easier.

My father almost wouldn’t let me go.

“The guy who runs that place? Walters? Heard about him. Too friendly with too many young boys. Too involved in the orphanage. Not married.

“You can go, as long as you stay with your team, you hear? Don’t go off alone with any of the adults. No telling what they’ll do to you. I don’t want you coming back walking bow-legged.”

Yeah, he said that—and more. Actually, I think his prejudices and trying to teach them to me were more dangerous than anything. My father was not only prejudiced, he was wrong. I knew that most children—boys and girls—who were sexually abused were molested by close relatives and friends of their families. I would be safer among the teachers and staff of Erewhon than at a family reunion. My father would never believe that, however. He wouldn’t admit his prejudices, especially about homosexuals. He was constantly warning me about my teachers and the soccer coach. And now, about Gary. I didn’t dare tell him that I knew Gary.

I went to my room and cried. I loved my father, but I loved Kenny, too. I couldn’t, I just couldn’t let my father know that I was gay, much less that I had a boyfriend. I could not share my greatest joy with my father. That hurt more than anything.

Kenny

There was no way the other boys on Viktor’s soccer team would have anything to do with me. I was the youngest kid at the school ever diagnosed with emphysema. The doctors said it was the pollution in the city’s air. Quite an honor, right? Anyway, when Viktor called to say I’d been invited to the picnic for the team, I couldn’t believe it.

“Sure, I can come … if I can get there … how are you going? My mom can’t take me.”

“I’ve got to go in the team bus,” Viktor said. “But don’t you worry. You just be ready Saturday at 7:00 o’clock. Your invitation is from Bobby … but you and I can sit together at the picnic.

“Oh, and I’d better not catch you cheering for Erewhon!” I heard Viktor giggle to let me know he was teasing. I giggled back before I hung up the phone.

Saturday at 7:00 the front door buzzer sounded. Mama was still asleep. I closed the door quietly and ran down the stairs. Bobby and a dude in a really bad-ass Mustang were waiting. Bobby gestured me to the front seat. The driver said to call him Uncle George, and then told me to buckle in, tightly.

The Mustang was super-cool! It had the biggest GPS screen ever! Uncle George weaved in and out of traffic like he knew what the other drivers were going to do. It didn’t take us any time to get to Erewhon. Uncle George shooed us away toward the field. Benji came running toward us and hugged us both.

“Come on!” he said. “Nemesis is holding our seats.”

The schools played only 30-minute halves, but they played two games. Viktor’s team won the first game; Erewhon, the second. And, the picnic was the greatest! They had huge grills set up, and were cooking hotdogs and hamburgers. I sat with Bobby and Benji—and with Viktor. When no one was looking, Viktor tore a hotdog in half, and gave me the bigger half. He winked. He does understand, I thought. He does understand, and I love him so much!

Viktor

“Come here, boy,” my father ordered me. I had just gotten back from Erewhon. I had ridden home with Bobby, Kenny, and a guy who drove a really hot Mustang that Bobby called “Uncle George.” The guy, that is, not the Mustang. Kenny and Bobby kind of looked at one another, and then insisted I ride in the front seat. When Kenny and I got to his apartment, I gave him a quick kiss before he went inside.

Now, I stood as I had been taught, at the left arm of my father’s recliner. He put the newspaper down.

“You and that Kenny boy,” he said. “You havin’ sex yet?”

A ringing started in my ears, my face felt flushed, my tummy … I thought I was going to upchuck. I couldn’t take a breath. The room got really dark. I thought I was dying. My father grabbed me before I could fall.

“Jesus Christ, boy! Get some backbone in you! I asked you a simple question: are you having sex with Kenny, yet? I mean, anythin’ more than jackin’ each other off and rubbin’ tummies, that is.”

“No … no sir,” I managed to gasp.

“Well, before you do, and I mean anythin’ more than that, you and me are going to have a serious talk.

“Kenny don’t have a dad, does he?”

I managed to choke out another, “No, sir.”

“Well, you bring him, too. It’s not something his mother ought to have to tell him about, I don’t guess.

“You okay, boy?”

“You’re not going to kill me?” I whispered.

“Kill you? Why on earth would I do that?”

“You hate … fags,” I said. “On the TV … gymnastics … ballet … you always say… and about my soccer coach … and the people at Erewhon …” My voice was a little stronger. Still, I was afraid I was going to pass out.

“No, not homosexuals, my idiot son. Men who prance around in their underwear!”

His voice changed, “And men who seduce little boys who don’t know any better. You be sticking with Kenny until you’re old enough to know, you hear?”

“How did you know?” I whispered.

“Hell, boy, I’ve known since you were six, and were undressing your GI Joe dolls. Why do you think I preach to you about what you wear and how you act and who you hang out with? Besides which, Mrs. Giannoni called because she saw you and Kenny kissing in the hall just a few minutes ago. Said you were doing it last week, too. She spends more time at that peephole in her door than she does on the toilet, and she’s incontinent! You’re lucky people think she’s a bit of a nut, and they probably won’t believe her. But, you don’t be doing that in public any more, you hear?

“Viktor?” my father’s voice was soft and lacked the edge it usually had, the edge that a tight, angry throat gave it.

“Viktor, it’s going to be hard enough on you being homosexual. It would be even harder if you couldn’t hide it, at least until you’re old enough to find people outside of this place, outside of your school, people who understand.

“If and when you want to go public, you let me know. There are organizations, groups, there are places you can go for help, but there aren’t many for kids, so plan to wait a while.

“You and Kenny? You be careful at school and in public, and you bring him here anytime you want to do anything. Just keep your bedroom door closed and keep the noise down, you hear?”

Death

The day I spent with Gary and the boys was the best since I’d been thrust into my role. For several hours, I was able to forget the horrors I daily encountered. Viktor and Kenny’s love was so obvious I didn’t have to look hard to see it. Viktor’s thoughts were tinged with fear—fear of his father, but I knew that was about to be resolved. Bobby and Benji were boyfriends, too, but given Benji’s age, it was still a platonic thing. Gary and Nemesis? That was another matter, and one that weighed heavily on me. I could sense their … confusion, I guess is the best word … but was reluctant to dig more deeply.

My job wasn’t all bad … but even the good times, like when I’d looked into the soul of Benji’s little brother, Jeffie, were overlaid with sadness. I slept well, that Saturday night. I’m glad I’m immune to karma, or I would have thought Sunday was punishment for having so much fun on Saturday.

Actually, when it happened, it was already Monday in the Middle East. The car bomb was one of the worst I had seen. Islamic fundamentalists had packed a milk truck full of explosives. They’d gotten past the checkpoints—it was, after all, a real milk truck. They had murdered the driver and his assistant, and stolen their IDs. To the American guards, one bearded “Arab” looked pretty much like another.

Instead of turning toward the loading dock, the jihadis had driven straight at the wall of the cafeteria. More than 100 children were dead, and another hundred or so would not live to see the next dawn, or the sliver of moon that would mark a new month in the Muslim calendar: the month of Rajab, a sacred month in which fighting was forbidden. Fighting, but not murder. The men who had sent these two were already planning their next attack.

Mars walked through the carnage. He stopped when he saw me.

“Why did you tell me on the battlefield not to take Garreth Walters?” I asked. I held my face still, impassive. I tried to keep my voice calm; however, there was an edge to it. Each word was clipped, deliberate.

Mars stood, arms akimbo. His hands were only inches from the diamond-patterned handgrips of the matte-black Sig-Sauer 9-mm pistols on his belt. On each lapel of his black fatigues was a circle of five stars, as matte and as black as the pistols.

This god takes himself a little too seriously, I thought, and then chuckled to myself. Maybe we all do.

“None of your business,” Mars said. “Absolutely none of your business.” He turned, but stopped when I put a hand on his shoulder. Mars turned and shook off my hand.

“I said, none of your business,” he said through clenched teeth.

“You don’t know, do you?” I said. “You really don’t know. You were just the messenger.”

Mars snarled a curse, confirming my guess, and then vanished.

There are only two for whom Mars would deliver a message: Athena and Zeus, I thought. What would either of them want with Garreth? Perhaps it’s time for another coffee with him.

Gary

I was surprised when Death dropped by so soon after our Saturday outing, but oddly pleased. We sat in the kitchen. It was early, so I made coffee. While it was brewing, we talked idly about sports. After the coffee was poured, I felt comfortable enough to ask him something that had been on my mind.

“Why, that first day we met, did you tell me to help Nemesis? I asked you that question before, and you shrugged it off. You just said that the kid needed help.

“Back then, I accepted your answer. Things have changed. I know a lot more then than I do now. Nemesis didn’t really need me, even then. He certainly doesn’t need me, now.”

“You are wrong, Gary,” Death said. “You’re wrong if you think Nemesis didn’t need you, then; you’re more wrong if you think he doesn’t need you, now.

“He loves you. He feels protected by you. He believes you give him strength to do the terrible things he has to do, and the comfort and vindication he needs after he does them.”

Death

“How do you know this?” Gary asked.

“You know how I know,” I said.

Gary nodded. “I know how… I just don’t want to acknowledge that you can hear what I’m thinking, just like Nemesis does. It’s easy for me to believe that you who are stronger and older than he is, can hear what he’s thinking, too.

“Didn’t you ever hear of confidentiality?”

I laughed. It wasn’t a mocking laugh. But it was the first time I’d laughed in a long time.

“I have the power to see into the deepest recesses of a soul … and I have done that countless times. There is no one I can tell what I’ve seen, nor would I tell, if there were.

“On the other hand, Garreth Walters, you and Nemesis … you’re special, and rules apply to you differently. I have good reason to want to help you.”

Then, I helped Gary remember the day on the battlefield when he nearly died. I helped him see Mars, me, and my HUM-V standing by while the medic treated him. I helped him hear what Mars had said to me. I told him of my recent meeting with Mars, and of my suspicions about who had sent Mars. When Gary asked, I explained how I knew the message hadn’t come from Dike.

“Perhaps I should ask her,” Gary said.

I shook my head. “I don’t recommend it,” I said. “She’s balancing a lot of things, right now, including trying to get Zeus to give up his title of Zeus Eleutherios.”

I saw Gary’s brow furrow, and added, “His Authority as guarantor of political freedom. It’s an old Authority, but one that is needed more, today, than ever before. She sees this as the only way to reverse the corruption of the Constitution of the USA and its Bill of Rights by the administration and the religious.”

Gary

Nemesis knew I was worried. It was hard to keep anything from him. He could sense strong emotions and thoughts at a distance. When we cuddled, he could practically read my mind. Scratch that. He could read my mind. I knew he tried to respect my privacy, and not read too deeply. I didn’t know, then, how deeply he had read me, or why he was so afraid to do it, again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

We were cuddling before sleep. It was warm … there’d been another brown-out when an electrical grid, somewhere, failed, and the “Department of Homeland Security and Everything Else” had exercised their control over the power grid, and remotely shut down the air conditioning. Even though it was nearly 10:00 PM, enough late-summer sunlight came through the curtains that I could see the expression on Nemesis’ face.

“It’s the foundation, isn’t it?” he added.

“Yes, it is, but I don’t want to bore you—or upset you—with my problems.”

Nemesis sat up. “I’m already upset,” he said. “When you’re upset, I’m upset. And I wouldn’t be bored.”

He lay back, spooned into my chest, tummy, and crotch.

“Now, talk. It’s too hot to sleep, anyway.”

But not too hot for skin-to-skin contact, I thought. I fought to keep my erection at bay, and, as usual, failed.

I took a deep breath, and began.

“The world I grew up in is collapsing,” I said. I was careful not to add, “and the one you grew up in.” Nemesis was losing more and more of his memories. Sometimes one would pop up. It’s as if they had simply receded into a fog; they were still there, and they could be recalled by a careless remark from me.

“The world economy was built on a couple of false notions,” I said. “One was that the economy could grow and expand, forever. That was not true. We went through bubble after bubble: the dot-com bubble, the real estate bubble, and the sovereign bond bubble. One sector after another became the hot sector to be in, to invest in. One after another, they over-promised or over-built, or were over-subscribed—or were looted by politicians. We never seemed to learn, however. We still thought we could built, invest, and grow forever. Didn’t happen, and this latest collapse, of the health care sector and the alternative energy sector at the same, has set us on our heels.

“It takes a lot of money to run the foundation. I can’t do it, alone, which is why I go after corporate donors. But they’re hurting. So is every other decent charity in the country. All the non-profits are clamoring for money.

“That’s why I’m worried,” I said. There was a hum in the background.

“There, the air conditioner has come on, again. It’s sleepy time.”

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