Death Waits In the Wings
Disclaimer: I do not own The A Team movie or television series or any of the delightful characters found on The A Team.
AN: The song "This Old Man (Knick-Knack, Paddywhack)" that Murdock sings whenever he fights the memory of his father is an old traditional children's song with ten verses.
Chapter 36 An Evening's Walk
He stepped down from the veranda and heard B. A.'s low rumbling voice and the clink of tools as Hannibal and he worked on one of the vehicles. Instead of turning toward the illuminated barn as he had told the couple in the farmhouse he would do, he directed his steps along the overgrown driveway.
It's so quiet out here. Man could raise a family, have a happy home, never have to run from anythin' ever 'gain. Maybe Cyndy 'n' Face could do that. Maybe Cyndy is the right gal for my buddy.
As Murdock began to walk along Grayburg Road toward Sour Lake, he wondered if he did enough to help Cyndy and Face reconcile their differences. He hoped somehow they would both forgive him for the mess he had made of things. He wasn't sure he could forgive himself for hurting them.
The evening breeze was a welcome comfort to his flushed face. He was glad he had not grabbed his jacket or his flannel shirt before leaving the house. Stuffing his hands in his pants pockets and kicking the roadside weeds as he went, he thought about Dani and life in Los Angeles.
Maybe someday I'll leave that V. A. hospital, marry her 'n' come home. Wouldn't be a bad life. Already got the ol' homestead.
He smiled thinking about it. Maybe even carrying her up on the veranda and into the house as a new bride, then up the stairs to his old room.
Yeah, that'd be nice. We'll have lotsa kids. Buy some horses, a cow, chickens, get the farm up 'n' runnin' 'gain. Gramma 'n' Grampa'd be proud.
He maintained an even pace. He knew it would be about three miles before he came to the cemetery. That first morning when they had arrived, he had jogged the three miles there and back. He realized he couldn't jog now but he could walk.
His Ma, Gramma and Grampa were there and he felt the need to sit beside their graves and talk to them. Maybe Billy would join in, tell him more about that place where they all loved and waited for him.
He felt a drop of moisture on his cheek and glanced up at the cloudless night sky. Brushing the drop away, he ignored the next three tears that squeezed from the corners of his eyes and down his cheeks.
Look at all those stars. Dani'd be amazed. L. A. don' have night skies as pretty as this. We'd sit up in the ol' loft 'n' look out at the sky, her 'n' I.
He started to hum "Fly Me To the Moon" under his breath until he felt his lungs crackle. Fishing in his pocket for the handkerchief, he barely got it to his mouth in time before the coughing began. He squeezed his eyes tightly and sank to his knees at the roadside. This fit lasted longer than any of the other ones. He almost felt as if his lung would come up with the bloody phlegm. After that, he vomited the rice and beans he had for supper. Weakened, he remained on his hands and knees for several minutes before staggering to his feet.
Not that far to the cemetery. Billy, if you want me there, you're gonna have to help me.
He made his feet do what they needed to do to propel himself toward his destination. He focused on the next utility pole on his right and as he passed that one, he set his eyes on the next one. The feeling he was being followed came over him and he concentrated on moving his feet faster.
I know where you are, boy. You're gonna be dead 'n' no one'll know or care.
Murdock began to hum and then sing, forcing his feet to follow the rhythm of the song. "This old man, he played one, he played knick-knack on my thumb . . ." Anything to silence his father's voice.
Milholland Road was on his left when a familiar black van pulled up beside him and stopped.
"Murdock. What you doin' out here alone, fool?" B. A. leaned across the expanse and opened the passenger door. "Thought I'd never find you. Get in."
The pilot shook his head and kept singing and weaving down the shoulder of the road. "This old man, he played seven, he played knick-knack up in Heaven . . . "
"C'mon, man. It's too late to be takin' a walk. Where you think you're goin' anyway?" B. A. yelled from his window. With an impatient grunt, he shifted the van into park and got out. Jogging to catch up to the injured man ahead of him, he reached out a hand and gripped Murdock by the shoulder.
The Captain twisted around and swung wildly with his right fist, narrowly missing B. A.'s nose. Before he could follow up with his left, the black man grabbed his right arm and bent it behind his back. Murdock's breath came in short gasps as the Sergeant's other arm snaked around his waist, pinning the left arm to his side. He kept the arm lock on the pilot and pushed him toward the passenger's side of the van. Murdock squirmed and tried to dig his feet into the dirt.
When they got to the van, B. A. was breathing hard from the struggle the pilot had given him. He took a deep breath before reasoning with the obviously disoriented man. "You can ride jus' as easily as walk. Tell me where you need ta go an' I'll take you there. Jus' let me call Face on the mobile phone in the 'Vette. Cyndy and he's out lookin' for you, too."
Murdock's eyes were wild and frightened and for several seconds B. A. thought he would have to figure out a way to subdue him to get him in the vehicle.
At the mention of Face and Cyndy, the injured man regained some of his focus. "B. A.?" He peered uncertainly into the Sergeant's eyes. "Did I jus' take a swing at you?" His face was getting paler by the second and he was shivering. B. A. caught him as he lost consciousness and pitched forward into his arms.
"Poor fool," B. A. muttered as he made Murdock comfortable on the back floor of the van and shut the door.