Ma had been on at the four of us for near on three years to all come back together, under one roof, for a Mercer style Thanksgiving, and I wish now I'd done it sooner. Jack slaved away that Thursday, and man, that fairy can cook. We tried to keep the conversation light, steering away from the thoughts that were haunting all of our minds. Even with all the banter, and the impromptu wrestling match that Angel and Jerry had on the living room floor, the closer it came to sitting at that table the less I felt like being thankful. The thought running around my head was that it took Ma dying to get us all here.
After two bites I did a Bobby, and hauled their asses to the rink. Never am I freer than when I'm on the ice. It had been my escape before Ma took me in, escape from the nightmare of too many homes and more bruises and broken bones than could be counted by a ten year old boy.
Nothing matters out there, no thoughts, no problems, not even time; just the ice beneath my feet, the stick in my hand, and the puck meeting the net. Almost from the minute each one of my brothers came through the front door they were introduced to hockey. Jerry played for me not for himself, like if he didn't play I wouldn't want to be his big brother. Angel on the other hand figured it was a good way to get his two favourite things, money and woman, although I'm not sure which takes top place in his mind. Jack, well he had to fight for everything in his life and with us lot as brothers he didn't stand a chance. The only way he ever got us back was on the ice. He could skate circles around all of us, and his elbows were lethal.
We played till it was too dark to see the puck and took on all comers. Even though we hadn't played together in years we were still undefeated. I wish that that day could have gone on forever but life moves on, grinding away, whether you want it to or not.
The reading of the will was as expected, to a point. Ma had always said the house was to be sold and the profit split between the four of us once we all had our own place. I guess that was her way of always ensuring we'd have at least one place to call home no matter where in the world we were.
Mr Bradford, Ma's Lawyer, set her safety deposit box on the table and left us alone so we could go through it at our own pace. It surprised me that Ma had Jack's papers in the safety deposit box but in a way I'm glad I didn't have any in there as Ma was all I ever wanted in my life. I know she had the house and her little knick-knacks but to realise that that box only contained two hundred dollars really upset me. Not for the fact you're thinking. For the fact that Ma worked her ass off, every hour of every day, and yet this was all she had to leave behind. If I'd have known how tight things had gotten for her I would've come home to help out.
I split the cash, a hundred for Jerry knowing full well that money would go straight to his two girls, Daniela and Amelia, and fifty each for me and Angel. Jacks always been the one that needs the most protection so I thought Ma's Rosary would benefit him more than the money. Plus I knew the money was destined for Johnny G's cash register how ever I split the last hundred.
Jerry drove us the scenic route through Detroit's run down warehouses. When he pulled up outside of one I thought he'd lost his mind. He gave us the grand tour explaining what his dream for the empty, derelict, building was. Personally I think a wrecking ball would have been a better idea but then I'm not the architect. Jerry always did dream big and if anyone could pull it off, he could. Judging by the comments Angel and Jack were throwing Jerry's way, World War III could've broken out at any moment. I suggested getting a real drink before the friendly bickering ended in a brawl.
In a way I wish we hadn't gone to the bar as that was the first step in the road that lead me to where I am now. That night I should have just left it at raising a glass to Ma. But, me being me, I couldn't. Johnny G said he'd heard what had had happened and offered his condolences. I had to bite the bait and ask what he'd heard knowing it was probably something I wouldn't like the sound of.
Long story short, Johnny G told us about a bunch of gang banger's that supposedly had been id'd by a witness. So we went a knocking.
My plans are never spectacular. They normally involve my fist connecting with someone else's face, a bullet flying from my gun or, if I really want to scare someone, I bring out the old failsafe, the gas can. Nothing scares people more than the thought of being burnt alive. I've never actually set light to the gas I've poured on people, I just like threatening them with it. Don't know what I'd do if anyone ever called me on it. Guess I'd have to rethink my planning skills.
With Jacks cigarette inches from the gas soaked little banger wannabe he started virtually crying out the fact the witness was lying. Something about a basketball player witnessing the crime from courts whose lights were turned out over an hour before the shooting occurred.
After going to the court and witnessing it for myself I came to the realisation that either the guy had great eyesight, or he was lying out of his ass. I leant heavily toward the latter option.