The Triggerman Dance

Holt banked up and away again, watching the lights of the city grow smaller as he climbed up into the darkness. And with every foot he rose in elevation, Holt could feel the Clarity inside, and could enjoy the diminishing strength of his body, could see what he must do. Up here, above the world, was the only place you could really understand. You needed perspective for vision. Patrick was gone. Carolyn was a thousand miles away, it seemed. From here, removed from what had happened to them, untethered to the earth on a clear October night, he could feel the influence of heaven and hell so clearly. He looked over at John Menden—this simple, and in many ways ignorant young man— and felt even more strongly that John was a gift from God. He has been sent to us, thought Holt. A son for Carolyn, a brother for Valerie, a tool for justice. Dropped like manna into the Anza desert.

"So, are you planning justice for what happened to Patrick? More than what just happened back there? More than letting your people look for Ruiz in Mexico?"

Holt turned and bore into John Menden's eyes with his own.

"Justice is larger than Ruiz."

"What can you do, then?"

"Silence, young man. Look. Listen."

They were hovering above the city of Orange now. Ho dipped the chopper down low and hit a search light that threw wide white beam onto the street. This particular downtown spot always made him just a little sick.

"See the street? Right down there, just in front of that store, that's where they parked to go buy their drugs."

"Who did?"

"The people with the infant in their car, and the pet rat. Of course, the couple got stoned, came back to the car and passed out. They slept it off. Rat ate the baby. Three hundred bites. Bled to death. Didn't hear it crying they were so loaded."

"I remember the stories," said John.

Holt steadied the chopper in place, fastening the light beam to the curbside where the car had been parked.

"That was a perfect story, John. Gave everyone on earth someone to hate. Sentimental. Revolting. Plus the couple was white. Media couldn't have lavished so much horror on a Black couple, Latins, Asians. Important to crucify the whites when they can. Nourishes the mobs they help create."

"Is that what happened to Patrick?"

"Goodness, yes. Ruiz said Patrick raped his aunt. Aunt said so too, then said she wasn't sure it was Pat, then told Susan Baum that she was positive. I got the Sheriff's transcripts and report from a friend in the department. Teresa Descanso's the aunt. Said she told Ruiz she thought Patrick was the man who'd raped her. Wasn't quite sure it was Pat, really. But it was enough for Ruiz in the heat of the moment. Hates gringos anyway. All tied to his political thinking. Plus his aunt was probably scared shitless, and he's a self-proclaimed reincarnated Aztec warrior or some such thing. Naturally, he's got a gun. Anyway, Teresa Descanso wasn’t really sure it was Pat who raped her until Susan Baum got her to say so in the Journal. That was during the trial. Made sensation copy. White Mormon son of FBI man, raping poor immigrant women in the barrio. One of Descanso's friends came out and said Pat had raped her, too. Baum had a field day with that on figured in a whole backlist of unsolveds. It was open season on Pat. Ruiz took his life and Baum took his good name."

Holt rotated the chopper over the street, then rose up again over the suburb and bore west.

"I hate Ruiz for what he did, but I respect his action," said Holt. "He acted on faulty information. But he acted honestly. It was a public statement. But I loathe Susan Baum. All she did was tell lies for money. That I do not respect. It's the purest distillation of the cancer that's eating this republic. It's everything that will take us down. Disregard for the truth. Slavish devotion to profit. Manipulation of people less sophisticated for advancement of self. Lie upon falsehood upon deceit. Utter destruction of a man's honor, name and reputation. All for entertainment. All to frighten a people already addled by fear. Fear is what sells now. Even better than sex. It's for every age. Every color, every faith and creed. Make them afraid and you can profit from them. They'll pay you to do it. In a just world, John, Ruiz would die for his acts, and Susan Baum would be forced into a life of community service. Untell all the lies. Correct all the errors. Repay all the profits. Personally speak to every person who ever read one of her articles and admit to them that she deceived them. Shine a light where she let darkness in. Whisper the truth where all her lies have festered and grown and rotted and stunk to highest heaven. No wonder God doesn't walk the earth anymore. Can't stand the smell."