Fly By Night
by Carlos Rios
Henry stood outside by the door to his patio. His neck tie was loose and flapping in the night wind, a lit cigarette on his lips drifted smoke in a line up to his gazing eyes pointed upward at a quarter moon. Although Henry's eyes were set on the moon, his thoughts had been lingering: How will I finish the trilogy?
Henry did not hear the sliding glass door open. He did not even hear his wife words. At once, as if awaken rudely by a clashing symbol, Henry heard the sweet melody of his wife's inquiry.
“Are you coming in dear? Come on in, take a shower, and come to bed.”
Henry could not deny the sensual tone in her voice, the luring eyes of his beloved wife. He gave her a nod and she retreated back into the house. After finishing his cigarette, Henry entered the bathroom, undressed, showered and was in bed in less than twenty minutes. She turned to him, kissed his lips as she gently scratched his scalp; relaxing his tension. Henry was present in body but not in mind. He continued thinking about his father's unfinished series even as she reached her peak of ecstasy. Henry knew right then that the overwhelming thoughts had to be addressed. It was, so he thought, his calling - his dead father heralding his remorse from the grave.
Weeks had elapsed and Henry was no closer to finding an idea for the last volume of the books. The first two volumes told the life of a poor woman who was down on her luck since the moment she entered the world. She was physically and mentally tormented by her father-in-law. Her mother was prone to drinking and her few friends were wolves in sheep’s clothing. All that she had was her big heart. She loved even those who hated her, for it is writing (her sole justification) that Jesus loved even his own enemies in the hopes of granting each eternal salvation. Now she was not really a religious gal, but she did extract and kept a treasure trove of wisdom from the Gospels; from Davids Proverbs and Palms. Her faith, even during the harshness of days, maintained her upright and granted her spiritual endurance and love toward neighbor. But yet, even with such a gleam of warmth in her person, she shook inside a terrible fear and a lust for justice behind her meek eyes.
By the end of book two, Henry's father presented his god-fearing protagonist in a real bind. She was, at that point in the series, overweight and pregnant with her third child. The first two, a boy of four and a little girl of two. Her ungenerous youngsters were of ferment complexion and careless in body and behavior. Always disobeying their tiring mother and getting into constant mischief. The poor woman was at her wits end when a fateful knock on the door brought her world to a stand still. Government workers with a deputy and two officers held a court order up to her face claiming custody of her children. The woman nearly fainted at the sour news and pleaded like a child to not take her babies away. Regardless of her fervent attempts and emotional yelps, endless tears and partitions to a merciful god, the children were hauled into a van like cattle and driven away, far off from their mama.
