The Right Thing

Daryl pulled into the employee parking lot with five minutes to spare. He grabbed his lunch and got out of the truck feeling on top of the world. Two men in dark suits approached him and he had the sinking feeling that this day was now taking a nose dive.

The taller of the suits spoke, "Mr. Dixon, we need to talk to you." They flashed badges. Oh, shit.

Daryl knew they were FBI. Who else would wear dark suits in Georgia in the summer time? Merle's already in jail. What has he done now?

"I don't want to be late for work. Can you talk to me later?" Like the FBI were just annoying telemarketers that carried weapons.

"Mr. Dixon, I think it would be best if you called in sick today." Oh, shit. Guess they want more my credit card number. "Why don't we drive back to your house? I'm Special Agent John Ford. Special Agent Summers will drive your truck and you can ride with me. Well, sure. I mean you're special agents. I don't let ordinary agents drive my truck.

Daryl got in the car. They weren't giving him any other option. Why didn't they send Mulder and Scully? I saw chupacabra one time. Gave up the shrooms after that. I believe in UFOs. It just doesn't make sense that humans would be the smartest of all beings. C'mon one evening of reality TV and you know that somewhere in the vast regions of universe there is more intelligent life.

Ford drove up the driveway of the house he owned and not the one that was his home. Summers parked behind them and they all got out and went into the house that was not his home. The FBI doesn't know where I live. Probably not a good time to tell then they fucked up. They don't seem to have much of a sense of humor. Probably it is the corncob stuck up their ass that makes them that way.

The house was starting to take shape. The kitchen looked great. Carol had used soapstone on the countertops in the kitchen and painted the cabinets white. The bathrooms were finished and they had built new shelves by the fireplace in the living room. It still needed painting and the floors redone. Ford took one look, "You seem to be remodeling Mr. Dixon." This guy is a regular Sherlock Holmes, nothing gets by him.

"What do you want with me?" Beta Agent Summers walks around the house while Alpha Agent Ford does the talking. Suspect still in the dark.

"Your brother is an informant for the Bureau. Merle contacted us through the prison chaplain six months ago. His cell mate was a man named Larry Stowers. They were both doing time for meth distribution. Your brother was a low level distributor, but Stowers was more interesting." Merle a snitch. No way in hell. Merle wanted out of prison though. Told me that he was getting out. Told me not to visit again until he called me."

Ford started again, "Stowers was a lot more than a meth distributor. He was part of a hate group. He and his two brothers are the leaders of the White Warriors. Part Nazi and self-funding terrorists. Nazi because they hate everybody who isn't a white dumbass like they are. Self-funding terrorists in that they are profoundly capitalistic. They were in the meth business, now they are pushing heroin, and they sell weapons to the highest bidder. They take the profits and invest in legitimate businesses. Larry is the weak link. Got nailed with a trunk full of meth. Got sent to prison and met your charismatic brother."

"Your brother got Larry to talk. Convinced Larry that he wanted to be a White Warrior. Merle told you not to visit because he was being visited by Linda Stowers, Larry's smarter twin. Daryl charmed her into trusting him and she started carrying messages between the White Warriors and your brother. He handed everything to us. Merle's going to testify against the White Warriors. Larry did his time and was out the door last week. We have enough information to nail the White Warriors right now, but we want their source for explosives. Then we close in and we go to trial. You and your brother are going into our witness protective program. Merle is going to collapse at the prison this morning and he will be pronounced dead at the local hospital. The remains will be cremated and Merle Dixon will cease to exist". Merle charmed you guys too. He'll probably just take off to Mexico and try to drag me with him. It's a con. Has to be.

"I have a life here. I just can't leave". Can't leave Carol and Sophia. Can't give up my family.

Summers was back, "Daryl, the White Warriors don't play games. They have guys at the prison that do their bidding. They have guys here that can pay you a visit. You won't like them. They'll kill you and anyone you care about. You signed in to the prison when you visited Merle and you gave your address. It is on file at the prison. They knew that Merle had a brother that visited him. That means by tomorrow they will know where you live if they don't already. You have to go and you have to do it this morning. Your life here is over. You can't tell anyone where you are going and why."

There it was. He had to do the right thing. He had to protect Carol and Sophia. "I live next door with my girlfriend. Will you protect them?"

Summers nodded, "The White Warriors will send their people to find you if they suspect that Merle died too conveniently. We're moving him to the infirmary right now because he is having chest pains by so by tomorrow this house will get a visit. We're going to stage it as if you left abruptly. We're going to do surveillance here because we want to locate as many White Warriors as we can find and we'll be here for the next few days. Merle never told anyone that you had a girlfriend. In fact, he said that you like your women drunk and easy. Just used them to satisfy your itch. Said you were basically a loner. Merle must have been protecting her all along."

"Why is everything happening all at once?"

"One of the inmates told the chaplain that Merle was a snitch and that the hit would be this afternoon. We had to move the timeline up. I'm sorry that you didn't get more warning." Ford actually sounded sorry.

He was numb inside. The three of them walked to the other house and Ford called someone on his cell phone. "The house needs a privacy fence built between this house and the ones next to it. It needs to be finished by this afternoon. Make it look like it has been here for a long time."

He packed most of his clothes and the lamp that Carol had given him. He took the long t shirt that she slept in and her pillowcase. Summers was waiting in the kitchen, "I love this kitchen. You and the girlfriend designed this?"

Daryl leaned against the island, "We did the whole house together."

"You built something beautiful here." More than you can ever know by looking at a countertop or crown molding. Two wary and damaged people built a loving home here. We tore down our walls and let the other in and now I am leaving Carol in the ruins.

"We really did. I'm sending her a text. Telling that I am leaving and won't be back." I hate myself for sending you that text. Better you hate me than you being physically hurt. I am so sorry, but I can't stay. I would only lead them to you and Sophia. I can't take you with me. You have a home, job, friends, and a good life here. Sophia is happy here. You're safer here.

Daryl picked up his belongings and trudged to his truck. Four men were already building a solid wall between the houses and they had dumped enough gravel on his side of the fence to obliterate the path that ran between the two houses. Soon there would be no sign that the people who lived in these houses ever knew each other.

Merle had called him after his last trip to the prison and told him not to come back for a few months. That seeing Daryl out and free made him crazy. Merle was a complete shit at times but he would never tell these guys about Carol.

Summers rode with him in the truck and gave him directions and they took the interstate heading north. He had a feeling that he was finally getting to leave Georgia.

TWDTWDTWD

His new home was in Virginia. A nice little town set in in the foothills of the Appalachians. Had a good sized college and high tech industries. Very middle class and he thought that he and Merle would stick out like sore thumbs. The house was in a cookie cutter housing development and he was waiting in the living room when Ford drove in with Merle.

Merle hugged him tight, "You okay, Lil' Bruther?" You asshole. I missed you so much.

"I'm fine. You look good for a dead man." He looks like crap. Like he hasn't slept in a week. Dying today must have been tough because he had to play dead and not be able to run his mouth.

"Never better. The old Merle is gone. I'm a new man as of today." Now that is scary.

"Well, let's sit down and I'll give you two your new identities." Ford sat down in their beige living room couch which sat on a slightly lighter beige carpet. He opened his briefcase and took out two folders. I am in beige hell.

Daryl took a dining room chair and moved it toward the living room area. Carol would really hate this house. Open concept, granite countertops, and stainless steel appliances. God, I miss her. I can write a book about what I miss.

Merle stretched and sat down beside Ford, "Reveal the new me. Then I have a date with the shower."

Ford laughed, "I think you're going to like the new you. Maybe it's the guy that you always wanted to be." He handed Merle a folder, "Read this later, but here are the Cliff notes. Your new name is Michael Reynolds. You just bought a bookstore in town. You were recently divorced and want to start all over in a new town. Your new clothes are in your bedroom."

Ford turned to Daryl, "And you are Mark Reynolds. You are starting work at Horvath Construction tomorrow morning. Dale Horvath retired from the Bureau a few years ago. He started this business and he is getting ready to retire again. You are a licensed contractor in North Carolina. Dale will show you the ropes and then he will retire. You'll do great, Mark." He handed a folder to Daryl. I have to work? Merle going to hang around a store all day and read books. I'll be out there in hot sun moving cement by wheelbarrow. Where is the justice? Why didn't they make me gay? I could open an antique store and spend my off hours redecorating this shitty house. Guess I didn't think that one through. Better stick with home construction.

"Merle, your Volvo is in the garage. Daryl, you are now driving a Subaru. You like to spend your weekend hiking the Appalachian Trail. You're the loner and Merle is the social brother. Merle is going to let his hair grow and Daryl is going to cut his short. Merle will wear glasses for reading because he actually needs to and is too vain to admit it. Volvo driving man is Merle? Over my dead body which may be a bad way to put that considering this situation.

They went out dinner that night. Merle dressed in khaki pants and blue denim shirt that looked expensive. Daryl wearing shorts, sandals, and t shirt. Ford and Summers sat at a nearby table while Merle devoured a steak and Daryl ate chicken and vegetables. 'Cause Mark is "an avid hiker and back packer" who "gave up hunting for sport". Mark isn't going to be a fun guy. I can tell.

Merle had demanded to be driven to his bookstore before they went to eat. He had walked around the stacks of books and the comfortable chairs. He examined the coffee pot and the little kitchen in back. He turned to Summers, "Have you read the new Harper Lee book? It's not her best work but the questions it raises about societally approved racism makes it work reading."

Merle sounded like a middle aged liberal. The kind of guy who drove a Volvo and wanted to install solar panels but had never got around to it. A dedicated Democrat but thinks the party has settled to close to middle. How come he is so good at it?

Summers had grinned, "You'll do. Michael. You'll do.

Merle was drinking water with lemon. Probably going to stop at the liquor store on the way home. "Michael, red meat isn't good for your heart?" You know so that you can be in good shape when the White Warriors lights up our asses or the FBI hunts us down.

Merle smiled back, "Mark, I only eat red meat once a week. You know that." Shit, he's scaring me a little.

They did make a stop on the way back to their beige house. Merle bought a lottery ticket. Claimed that this was his lucky day.

Ford and Summers went on to their motel. Merle wanted to be outside so that he could see the stars and they sat on the back deck with its plastic Adirondack chairs and watched the universe unfold before them.

"What are you up to?" Daryl wanted answers.

Merle sighed, "I was in prison. My usual distractions weren't available. I started talking to Father Gabriel just to pass the time. Larry Sowers was my cellmate. He had lots of power there. Guys did his bidding. Seemed safe to be on his side. So when he started with the White Warrior shit I was right there with him. Dad was a racist. We grew up hearing that over and over and I never questioned it.

Gabriel is a good man and I'm going to miss him. He's taking a church in some backwater town in Georgia and I don't think I'll see him again. I can't say that I'm conventionally religious, but I do believe in God. We're supposed to love one another. You can't be racist and a follower of Jesus.

Larry was stoned one night at the prison. Pills. Easy to get in prison. He started talking about some of the things that the White Warriors were going to do. Next big thing was to blow up a Black church. A big church with hundreds and maybe thousands of worshippers inside. Make it look like it was the work of some other white supremacist group. Funnel weapons to Black hate groups in that city so that they would retaliate. Start a race war.

I didn't want to be a snitch. It isn't safe in prison and I was all about being safe. Staying below the radar. Not rocking the boat. I tried to ignore what I heard, but every time I closed my eyes I saw what would happen. The screams and the blood of innocents. Finally, I went to Gabriel and told him that he was to contact the FBI and no one else. I got Larry and then Linda to talk to me. I'm going to testify in court and I'm sorry that this is taking you away from your girlfriend. But this is the right thing to do and for once I am listening to my better angels."

Daryl looked up at the cold uncaring stars and he asked Merle's God to protect Carol and Sophia. He wanted to be with them, but he would only endanger them. Merle needed his support and he was bound by blood and love to help his brother do the right thing.

Their father represented all that was wrong in this world. He had tried to make his sons like him, but somehow they had managed to become better men. This new Merle? Maybe Merle finally just found who he really was. Hadn't he let himself be who he really was when he met Carol?

God, let me find a way to be with Carol and Sophia again. Please.

AN

Did you peeps seriously think that Daryl would do the nasty with Carol and dump her the same morning?

Merle doing the right thing does mess up the happy Caryl home. Carol is of course off weeping into her one pillowcase and wondering why there is a fence now between the two houses. Daryl is in Virginia clutching Carol's nightshirt and laying his newly shorn head on the other pillowcase. I suspect he is manfully crying too.

The shooting in Charleston, South Carolina wasn't fiction. It was the work of a deranged boy but is it that far of a stretch to think that a hate group would do blow up a church or a synagogue? It is already happening.

Merle was a reader in the television show. He quoted scripture and even on the rooftop in Atlanta he was in a dialogue with God. This time he did some listening.

This chapter is sad. It is so hard to bring the snark when hearts are breaking.

Carol is moving to a farm. Hope that can be funny.

I love that you review so faithfully.