Page 29 of Greed

“I’ll take the green smoothie to cleanse myself. I ended up having a bit too much Blood Rot, Hell Fire whiskey, and pomegranate juice. I’m lucky I made it back at all.”

“Indeed, Sir, time is unusual when that particular concoction is at work,” Shilo said as if he had firsthand experience, but I highly doubted it.

Humans thought that the apple was the original forbidden fruit, but they would be wrong. Not surprisingly, humans tended to get almost everything wrong when it came to my Father. It was a pomegranate and when you mixed a Hell grown pomegranate with a drop of demon’s blood, watch out. That particular combo became the world’s best aphrodisiac mixed with the best party trip ever. Hell, it sparkled like a glittering disco ball. It was a really good thing that cell phones and cameras didn’t work down below, or there would be some pretty interesting blackmail material.

I walked toward the bedroom, desperately needing a shower and sipping the smoothie that Shilo always managed to make taste fantastic.

“Um, Sir.”

I turned to face Shilo, who was still standing by the kitchen wringing his hands together. I intuitively knew something was wrong, something I was not going to like.

“What is it, Shilo?”

The old angel cleared his throat. “I think I found the girl, it took some digging, but there were very few with the name Minetta in the system and only one with the description you gave.”

“Okay, and?”

“I have since learned of the house’s location, and I took a trip out to investigate and bring her to you if you desired. But it seems she has left, and I do not know if or when she will return.” Shilo shifted back and forth from foot to foot.

A small and highly unusual shot of anxiety stirred in my gut. “What do you mean she has left?”

“I am not sure, Sir. Maybe a vacation, or maybe she moved. The mail is piling up at the home, and there is no sign of anyone coming or going. I’m sorry I failed you, Sir.” He looked down at the ground.

“You didn’t fail me, Shilo. Send me the address. I’ll see what I can find out.” Turning, I walked away in search of a much-needed shower and my bed. The problem was my mind was once more consumed with a raven-haired beauty with eyes like the Caribbean Sea.

She walked up the path to the nursing home, the same routine she’d done every day for the last eight days, but today felt harder, heavier. Taking a moment to gather herself before she walked into the overly depressing spot, she sat down on a park bench with her small purse clutched in her hand.

One thousand five hundred and eighty-five days was how many days she’d sat in a place similar to this as she held her father’s hand. Terminal brain cancer, she remembered those words clearly when her parents had come home from the doctors. With aggressive radiation treatment and surgery, he might make it another two years.

“What do you mean you only have two years? You have to see me graduate and get married. How about grandchildren? Don’t you want to be here for that,” she fumed, anger pushing down the fear and sadness.

“Of course I do, sweetheart. You are my pride and joy. I want to see all those things with you and for you, but this isn’t something I chose,” her father said calmly, his hand reaching for hers.

She jerked her hand away. This wasn’t right. He was a young man, still in his prime. He hadn’t even reached fifty yet. How could this be happening?

“You need to fight this! You can’t die. I’m only sixteen. I can’t lose you.” Emotion taking control, she stormed from the room and ran outside. Legs pumping hard, she passed the chicken coop and then the couple of cows who stopped grazing long enough to watch her race past. He can’t die. He can’t leave her yet.

She and her father had always been close. He taught her how to ride a bike. He taught her how to throw a baseball, he took her fishing and even showed her how to milk the cows properly. Her dad was everything, her friend, and her tutor for school, but he was her dad and protected her most of all.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she eventually flopped under one of the apple trees, simply unable to run any longer. She wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her face to cry out the pain that was threatening to consume her. Even as she cried the millions of tears that never seemed to want to end, she couldn’t make the pain go away.

“Sweetheart?”

She looked up at the sound of her father’s voice. She didn’t even remember the sun setting, but as she stared at her father and the stunning fiery sky in the background, she could almost picture him with wings. He was meant to be an angel. He’d always been one. Just all too soon, he would have wings for real.

Her lower lip trembled, and she wiped at the tears with the back of her arm. “I can’t lose you, dad. I know that sounds selfish, but I’m too young. We have so many things that we’ve planned to do. You and mom were talking about us taking a trip to Montana. What about that? Or going to see Japan, you always said you wanted to go there. We’ve only been to two baseball parks, and we were going to see one a year and start a photo album of our adventures, and….” She stopped talking, unable to get the words out.

Her father lowered himself to the ground and mirrored her position. “We will still take that trip to Montana, but I don’t think Japan is going to happen, and we will get a couple more baseball games in.”

“It’s not the trips or the games dad. This is not fair! Why do so many evil people get to walk around and hurt others and be mean to one another, but you have to die. Why you? I hate God! I hate…” She broke down, bawling again, and her father wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side.

“I know that this hurts so much right now, and I won’t lie to you, there are going to be terrible days ahead, but Minetta, you are so special. You’re this beautiful spark and light of warmth and kindness that this world needs. No matter what happens, no matter how soon I’m taken, I want you to remember how much I love you, and I want you always to remain this person you are right now.”

“I don’t know if I can do that, dad. How can I go on with my life like everything is okay, now or when you are…” she bit her lip, not wanting to say the words again.

“Because my dear, life is always going to throw you curveballs, and you are most certainly never going to expect the knuckleball coming, but it’s all in how you learn to approach the next pitch.”

“Really, dad? A baseball reference now?” She smiled a little as her father laughed.