Chapter 31
The sun ascended from the horizon and the clouds were pink and purple, again.
Out on a stretch of beach, Angel and Mok had been walking around before the sun rose into the morning sky.
Mok had persuaded Angel to step out of her hospital room just for today. She was eager to take a day outside, but deep down she felt as if someone would take her away, again.
The day before, a psychiatrist diagnosed Angel with post-traumatic stress syndrome and there was a possibility that she might develop an anxiety disorder later in life.
The psychiatrist said that it was best to take slow, steady steps for Angel, so that she would be comfortable enough when she would go outside.
Mok had chosen to take her to this beach as it was empty in the morning hours and no would bother them.
Angel inhaled the salty sea air and she felt a heavy weight being lifted from her shoulders.
"It feels good, doesn't it?" Mok asked and he also inhaled the sea air.
"I never thought Miami would be beautiful, but no one knows of its rotten core," Angel replied and sat down on the sand.
She took a stick and drew in the damp sand, watching the waves crash on the shore.
"Angel, I know what you're going through," Mok said and sat beside her. "When I was in rehab, I went through the same anxiety and thought that no one would help me. However, someone did and he led me out of the dark tunnel and now, I want to do the same for you."
Angel looked at him and laid her cheek down on his shoulder. "Mok, I have something to say," she said and he listened. "I don't know if this is going to work for me. Living in a big mansion and having servants and riding in fancy cars."
Mok felt a sense of disappointment; he wanted to make Angel comfortable, but he just can't force her.
"I understand," he said. "If you wish to leave, you can, but I would not like it."
"No, I mean it will be tough for me to get use to it," Angel replied.
Before Mok could say anything else, a familiar sound filled his ears. Up on the boardwalk, someone was playing a violin and it was the old Appalachia fiddle that Mok admired so much.
"C'mon, you should hear this," he said and the two got up and walked up to the boardwalk.
They found the fiddler; he was a dog humanoid and he wore dirty pants, t-shirt, and a cap.
"What is he playing?" Angel whispered her question.
"I don't know what the tune is called, maybe he knows," Mok answered, but Angel shook her head.
"No, I mean the instrument he's playing," she said, again.
"It's a violin, one of the rarest instruments that survived the Nuclear Wipeout, but I suspect that the knowledge of creating it was lost through the ages," Mok answered and they listened to the fiddler play the tune.
Angel then realized that it was the same tune that Mok hummed to her the other night and he seemed to notice.
When the fiddler was finished, Mok and Angel clapped and the dog man bowed his head.
"I never had an early morning audience before," he said, "Name's Harold."
"I'm Angel and this is—" Harold held up a hand to stop her and he looks at Mok.
"I want to prevent a crowd when they hear his name," he replied.
"Do you mind if I ask you where did you learn to play like that?" Mok asked.
"Grew up in the mountains of West Virginia, also known as hill-billy country. Everyone is like a close knit family. My uncle taught me to play this when I started school and the tune I just played, he called it 'Short Trip Home'*. And if you are curious as to why I am here? Well, I'm like the wind, it takes me wherever it goes," Harold explained.
"You mean you just go whenever you feel like it?" Angel asked, but Harold shook his head.
"I go with the wind; whenever it goes, I follow and whenever it stops, I stay until it tells me to leave," he said.
"That's incredible," Mok said and asks, "Have you ever been to Ohmtown?"
"One time, never felt at home, no offense," Harold replied.
"None taken," Mok said, "If the wind wants you to go back there, would you do it?"
"I never refuse the wind's call," Harold answered and Mok handed him a slip of paper.
"If you do come to town, I would be honored if you stayed at my place. How would you feel if you performed in a concert wit me?" he asked and also handed him a few dollar bills.
"I would be thrilled, but I won't do it for the money," Harold said.
"I understand, I just want the people, especially my fans to hear your violin," Mok replied and Harold nodded.
"I hope that the wind will take its course to Ohmtown in time for your concert," Harold said.
"Would you mind playing that song, again?" Angel asked and Harold shook his head.
He started on a low note and played the fiddle. Angel listened to the notes, they rose and fell, and she felt her spirit being lifted off from all her worries.
When Harold finished, Angel and Mok left and returned to the beach. The sun shined on the water, making it glitter like gems.
The two went back to the hospital, but were ambushed by a swarm of media personnel. Paparazzi were snapping photos, while news reporters were yelling out questions.
"Back off you buzzards!" a voice shouted over the crowd and Toad pushed them aside, allowing Mok and Angel to reach the sanctuary of the hospital lobby.
"Oh good, you're here!" Cindy exclaimed. The two, with Toad behind them, found Cindy, Zip, and Sleazy with Commissioner Holton.
"What's so good about it? What's going on?" Angel asked.
"Didn't you hear?" Zip asked, but Sleazy slapped him on his head.
"What is it? What's the news?" Mok ordered them to speak.
"Legrand has been sentenced to death," Holton answered and a burning sensation filled Angel's stomach.
She felt like she was going to vomit, but Mok grabbed her by the shoulders and held her upright.
"Does that mean we can go?" Angel asked and Holton nods.
"I'll get the plane ready," Sleazy said and he, Cindy, and Zip left the hospital.
Mok sat Angel down at a chair, her face had become pale and she appeared dizzy.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"I don't know if I should be happy or whatever, I just feel…strange. One minute, I felt like I was a new person, but then the next, I came back to reality," Angel answered.
"I understand," Mok replied and holds her in his arms.
Toad went off to get the car and Holton and Mok spoke to each other.
"I want to thank you for rescuing those girls. If it weren't for you, I don't know who would save them," Holton said, "And if there is anything I can do, you let me know."
"And I want to thank you for taking part of the rescue," Mok replied.
"Wait a minute," Angel interrupted. "Did you recover a box of paper cranes?" she asked.
"I did and I brought it with me because I thought they were yours," Holton replied and pointed to a wooden box on a chair and hands it to her.
"Most of them are, the rest are Rosie's," Angel said, staring at the beautifully arranged paper cranes.
Toad returned with the limo, but the media personnel did not go away. "I'll safely escort you to the airport if you wish," Holton said, but Mok shook his head.
"I hope you don't mind quieting the crowd," Mok replied and Holton shakes his head.
Mok then turned to Angel, "Is it all right if I tell the media about all this?" he asked and she nods.
"I also have a few things to say," she said and they went out into the noise of snapping photos and yelled out questions.
"One question at a time!" Holton ordered the crowd and they hushed.
"Mr. Swagger, is it true that you were behind the rescue mission of those call girls?" someone asked.
"Yes, but my employees were also part of it," Mok answered and waited for another question.
"Why did you do it?" someone else asked.
Mok encircled an arm around Angel. "This woman here was sold to the Black Widow by someone she knew and..." he stopped to take a breath and adds, "And she means a lot to me."
"What's your name, Miss?" someone asked and Angel took a deep breath.
"Angel Lyons," she answered and some of the paparazzi took photos of her.
"How did you two meet?" another person asked.
Angel looks at Mok and replies, "I believe it was fate. We have a lot in common and ever since the rescue, he refused to leave my side. And I love him."
Mok looks at her and a smile formed on his face.
The two decided to leave and not answer any more questions. They got into the limo and Toad drove away from the crowd.
"Mok," Angel said and he looks at her. "I decided to stay with you at your mansion," she adds.
They shared a kiss just as they arrived at the tarmac where Mok's private jet was waiting. Angel was surprised to see it, but she followed Mok up the staircase and into the jet.
Inside, there were comfortable chairs and a carpet floor. On one table, there were some bottles, but Angel wasn't sure if they held liquor or something.
"Tell Sleazy that we're ready to go," Mok said to Zip. "Take a seat," he said to Angel and she sat in a comfortable beige colored chair.
The engines roared to life and the jet flew off the tarmac and away from Miami. Angel refused to look through the window to see the landscape of the buildings.
"I never want to set foot there, again," she said to Mok. He let her lay her head on his shoulder and she flew asleep as the jet headed back toward Ohmtown.
()()()()
*The Short Trip was written by Edgar Meyer and performed by violinist Joshua Bell.