Zeke, Ugo, and AJ walked out of the hospital. Zeke remembered his bag this time.
Leaving Naomi alone in the hospital once again with Ugo’s backup cell phone. Ugo brought a power bank this time and left it for her. When they returned to the office, they cleaned off the painted sigil on the door with a filthy rag they found. Whether or not the angels can use it, being safe can never hurt.
Upon going outside the building, Zeke, Ugo, and AJ found the docks free of supernatural elements.
Nananiel’s snowy feathers, the bloodstains, the green splotches, and Violet’s broken chimera-lizard-dog-gun-thing—they were gone. As if the world’s greatest cleaning crew passed by and left only the broken deck boards. Zeke explained what happened after Nananiel threw Ugo into the wall but didn’t go into much detail. Retelling Violet’s Hellchair and preparation to torture Nananiel may not sit well with Ugo and AJ. They had the tendency to be critical and sensitive about some of Violet’s actions, and Zeke wasn’t in the mood to hear any of it. She saved them! No need for emotional opinions. Zeke also omitted what she told him about the Damned and the Deliverer.
On their way to the closest bus stop, they decided to only enter the hospital when all together and no longer return to the factory.
One long, sleepy bus ride later, Zeke and Ugo hopped off the transport and onto the streets of their boring, middle-class neighborhood — Blackmarsh Grove. They waved AJ goodbye as the bus took her to the richer neighborhood where she lived — Crossview Acre.
Zeke slogged his way back home alongside Ugo. He could feel the weight and exhaustion in both of them as they moved along the sidewalk, littered with vivid, flaming leaves that made a satisfying crunch with every step they took, putting Zeke’s mind at ease. He could hear squirrels squeaking and squawking from up in the trees even after some of his young, friendly neighbors from so-called welcoming families shouted Mexican slurs. Mexican, Columbian, Argentinian, Peruvian, it was all the same for the ignorant assholes. Zeke’s reaction to it was oddly calm; in fact, he didn’t react at all. Ugo gave him a look with his eyebrows raised but said nothing and just kept looking forward. Zeke observed the shedding trees symbolizing the slow march towards death, reminding him of his wretched fate.
The boys arrived home—a small American colonial. They ran up the stairs into their bedroom, each plopped down on their beds and sat silently.
Mindlessly, Zeke stared at Ugo.
“What?” Ugo asked.
Zeke paused as if waiting for a directional cue. He looked back at his bookshelf. “Were you scared?”
“Huh?”
“When Nananiel attacked us. That whole thing, were you ever scared?” Zeke moved his eyes back to Ugo. Focusing on him carefully.
“What kind of question is that?”
“Nevermind…”
“Mano, of course, I was scared. Come on. I mean, if I died back there, I’d leave this world without going through so many experiences. Snowboarding, skydiving, sightseeing, feeling a woman's touch, unhooking a bra…” Ugo looked off into the emptiness for a moment and then dropped his face into the palm of his hand. “If I died back there. I would’ve woken up in Heaven, super-pissed.”
Zeke’s eyes popped out. Heaven. That word made him think about Hell and Afterlife with more weight than ever before. The concepts were more palpable now. He could see it. Feel it. It was terrifying.
“Heaven, huh?” Zeke muttered.
Ugo gave Zeke a look. “Oh, here we go. Another joke about me going to Hell. Ha-ha.”
There was a one-in-a-eleven chance that Ugo’s soul would be sent straight to Hell after death. The same for him.
“Mano, we need to learn how to use magic,” Ugo declared.
Zeke studied Ugo and hunched forward. “Where do we even start?”
“The library in the hospital.”
“Wait… are you telling me you want to study?”
“Look, nobody has a poor memory or is too lazy to learn. It’s all about what’s interesting to you and what isn’t. Of course, I am going to be interested in learning how to shoot fireballs from my fingertips. Are you kidding me?”
Zeke thought back to the blue knife that Ugo summoned. “You used magic to summon that knife, Mora.”
“I know! I have no idea how! I can’t remember what I said… that has never happened to me before.” Ugo cracked a smile. “It’s actually quite nice.” Ugo’s expression grew determined. “Hey, I think you used magic, too. Figuring out Naomi’s case. We’re part of the Tainted Generation. This stuff is in our souls, right? We need to meditate and shiz to figure it all out.” Ugo pointed to Zeke’s bag, sitting on the floor beside his feet. “We need to study the vieja’s notes.”
“According to Violet, two titles haven’t been filled,” Zeke mentioned. “The Diagnostician and the Surgeon.”
“This isn’t a mystery. You’re definitely the Diagnostician, and I am the Surgeon!”
Zeke paused, and despair washed over him. The truth was undeniable. He reached this conclusion on his own a long time ago, he admitted to himself. Everything pointed to him being the Diagnostician. The Diagnostician of the previous Tainted Generation was the Damned. Cursed to burn in Hell for eternity. What did that mean for him?
Once again, the cruel, absurd, unfair universe dealt him a bad hand for a game he was forced to play—coerced into playing, which seemed to be a more fitting way of saying it. Zeke couldn’t muster the courage to talk about the prophecy. Mentioning it just made it all so real. For now, he stayed quiet about it.
The door opened, and a tall man with a muscular physique let himself in. The boys looked up at the man with the light gleaming off his round glasses.
“Yes, Dad?” Ugo said.
Gerardo Morata grinned, approached Ugo, and sank onto the bed beside him. He gave Zeke a warm smile as he grasped onto Ugo’s shoulder. “How are you boys doing?” He started shaking Ugo back and forth, ignoring his whining.
Zeke knew an intense interrogation was coming up. He held his stepfather’s innocuous stare and chuckled nervously. The key was to stay calm. He made a mental note of that and stuck to it.
“Whatever it is, you think we did. It was Mora’s fault!”
And then he shamelessly cast that note away.
“Ezequias, you’re not in trouble,” Gerardo let go of Ugo and gave him a look. “Neither of you are,” Gerardo added. “You guys just came dashing through the front door, left it open, and retreated here. I just wanted to check if everything was alright.”
Ugo rubbed his shoulder. “Oh, sorry about that, Dad. We didn’t realize that anybody would be home.”
“I got off early today, but that still doesn’t make it okay for you two to just leave the door open like that.”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Gerardo let out a hefty laugh and stroked his well-kept full beard. “Amigos, it’s okay. You can tell me anything.”
Zeke’s stepfather’s hopeless crusade comprised proving to every living soul on the planet that he was, in fact, a cool 42-year-old man. Zeke was confident that the only reason Gerardo didn’t dye his hair like Ugo was because of his mother. If only she could also stop him from washing his car in a tank top and jorts every weekend morning, listening to Spanish rap songs blasting from the car’s stereo.
“Mom sent you here to interrogate us, didn’t she?” Ugo asked.
“No, she’s not even home.” Gerardo shook his head. “And don’t say ‘interrogate.’ It makes me sound like a villain. We’re all amigos here.” Gerardo looked back at Ugo and got a firm hold of his shoulder again. “Or are you still mad at me, Ugo, hm? For the betrayal?”
“Hey, don’t laugh at the passionate troubles of a six-year-old, dammit,” Ugo replied.
When Zeke and his mother moved in with Ugo and his weird father fresh off Europe, there was an aura of animosity that emanated from Ugo whenever he was in a room with his father. Six-year-old Ugo made a case defending that since he was the first to see Eldora in public, therefore had the right to ask her to marry him when he was old enough. In his own words, his father put honor aside and ‘cheated and broke a man’s code’ by asking Eldora out anyway and proposing to her. The first few months living with them were strange, to say the least. Zeke witnessed a variant of the Oedipus Complex develop before his eyes. Luckily, Ugo got over in time before he sorted to cold-blooded murder.
“Am I still your rival, Ugo?” Gerardo said.
“It was years ago. I’m over it, but it’s still not funny. That was messed up. I had dibs, man. You betrayed me.”
Gerardo chuckled. “You should’ve never pointed her out to me in the park that day.”
“I was bragging!”
Gerardo withdrew his hand. “Your mother still has a lot of unanswered questions.” Gerardo heaved a heavy sigh. “She made that very clear last night…”
“So, this is an interrogation!” Ugo shouted. “You have no honor indeed…”
Gerardo sighed. “I’m on your side. Listen, between us, when I heard about that fight at the restaurant, it made me quite happy.”
Zeke raised his brows. “What?”
“You’re young! You should be out doing crazy, stupid stuff like that. Raylan is a bit of gilipollas, anyway. Did you hear about the rumor of him pissing on the drinking fountain when no one’s around? And the way he insults people behind their backs, even those of his entourage. Poor AJ...”
“How do you know this?” Ugo asked.
“That’s not important,” Gerardo said with a straight face.
“Yes, it is!” Ugo exclaimed. “Stay off our social media.”
Gerardo continued, “You’re only young once. Take advantage of your youth. It doesn’t always have to be about responsibilities. It’s important to have fun and experience everything you can as a young person.”
“So, we don’t end up like you?” Ugo said. “Desperately trying to relive the old glory days?”
Gerardo gave Ugo a look. “I’m still your father, you know.”
Zeke couldn’t recall a time he had a normal conversation with Gerardo. Expecting normalcy from a character like him would be foolish, Zeke realized. This was the man who willingly proposed to a woman divorced from a drug-smuggling criminal who was still alive and well, sitting in prison. Gerardo knowingly married into a family of criminals without a care in the world. Not caring. Again, an ability Zeke was so desperate to learn.
“Ezequias,” Gerardo said suddenly.
Zeke straightened up as if he were in the military. “Yes, Father?”
“Always so tense…” Gerardo shook his head and then folded his hands together. He leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knees, and fixated on Zeke. “I don’t know the exact details of the fight, but, as you know, us doctors make for excellent detectives.”
“Dentists aren’t real doctors,” Ugo said.
Gerardo turned to Ugo and flicked his ear. He groaned in pain.
Gerardo went back to focusing on Zeke. “AJ was the main cause, wasn’t she?” he asked. “She likes Raylan. Maybe she put herself in a situation that Raylan took advantage of, and he must’ve done something that you didn’t like. You were standing up for her.”
Zeke squirmed subtly and lowered his eyes.
“That’s my boy,” Gerardo said. “AJ is cute. She has fantastic discipline with diet and exercise, something that you could benefit from. Why haven’t you asked her out, hm?”
Zeke put on a vacant expression. Ask AJ out? No, she was just a friend; besides, he was reserved for someone else. Someone who still owed him an answer…
“Zeke still got the hots for Vee,” Ugo said. “In fact, he did it with Vee in mind.”
Zeke shot a glower at Ugo. He wanted to shout something. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. What was he supposed to say? It’s not like Ugo lied.
The softened sound of a door opening rose from downstairs.
“Ezequias!” Eldora shouted.
The door slammed shut, and footsteps parading along downstairs were apparent.
Zeke shot up and darted for the door without a word. He rushed down the stairs, happy to have been pulled out of the uncomfortable situation, and veered into the entryway.
He dashed past the living room and pushed the swinging door leading to the kitchen. He froze.
Eldora and Isaac were hoisting bags of groceries onto the island.
Isaac let go of the bags and turned to Zeke. He smiled and spread his arms, “Hezekiah!” He approached Zeke and dropped his hands on his shoulders. “How are you?” he asked in his hoarse voice.
“We just saw each other at school earlier today,” Zeke said.
“Don’t be so cold, Ezequias,” Eldora said as she grabbed a bottle of vinegar in one hand and extra virgin olive oil in the other.
“No, Mrs. Morata, he’s right. I am being weird. I’m like a puppy. I get needlessly excited when I see someone again, even after a short time.”
Eldora snickered as she shook her head. “You are so precious.” She walked to the pantry.
“They let me out of school early today, Hezekiah.”
“Another trip to the guidance counselor?”
“Yes. It was brief. Everything is fine. I was wandering our beautiful community for hours, I think, like a devout leading a group through a desert.”
Eldora stopped organizing the pantry at just the right time to share a look with Isaac, and they laughed in unison.
“Anyway,” Issac resumed, “I somehow ended up at the supermarket and ran into your lovely mother. It was fun. I helped, we talked, and I learned something very troubling, Hezekiah.”
Isaac’s eyes grew intense as he reached for Zeke’s hands, pulled them up, and cupped them in his. Isaac cocked his head to the side. “Your mother told me about what happened to your grandmother. How come I didn’t receive this news earlier? I know how much she meant to you. I am so sorry.”
Zeke pulled his hands away and took three steps back. He nodded slowly while fixed on Isaac. “Yeah, it’s terrible.”
“Isaac said that he wants to come to the funeral,” Eldora said as she cut open a bag of kosher salt. “He wants to make a little eulogy about Aba. Isn’t that nice?” She poured the contents of the bag into a container.
“Wait, what?” Zeke asked while studying his mother.
“Your mother told me that my father was doing the eulogy,” Isaac said, “so I figured I could too. Would that be too weird for you, Hezekiah?”
“Just call me ‘Zeke’!”
Eldora slammed the empty bag on the counter. “Ezequias!” She sniped a look at him. “Why are you so mean to him?”
“No, no, no, Mrs. Morata. Zeke isn’t mean to me. He never is. No need for scolding. If he doesn’t want me to come—”
“You can come. It’s fine,” Zeke interrupted while rolling his eyes.
Isaac’s hand plopped onto Zeke’s head. “Oh, thank you for your blessing!” Isaac slipped his hand down his head and left his finger to linger on the bridge of Zeke’s nose. Isaac studied him silently.
Zeke snuck a glance at Eldora. She was kneeling before the fridge, sorting out the frozen goods. Of course, she’d be looking away at such a bizarre moment.
Isaac stole a glance at the baby angel refrigerator magnet and snickered. “I must leave now,” he suddenly announced. He slipped his finger away from Zeke’s nose and turned to the kitchen door. “I’m sorry.”
“Ezequias, walk him out,” Eldora ordered without looking away from the fridge.
Zeke let out an inaudible sigh and unenthusiastically accompanied Isaac to the entryway and opened the door for him. Isaac walked out onto the doorstep. Just as Zeke was halfway through closing the door, Isaac whipped back and placed his hand on it, forcing him to stop.
Issac beamed at Zeke with his undying smile. “Hezekiah, you can count on me as a true confidant. You are aware of this, right? If you are ever lost and don’t know what to do. Please, consider me an option.”
His smile grew wider. Zeke surveyed the cross dangling off his bracelet.
“Yeah, sure,” Zeke said.
“I didn’t get a goodbye hug from you, Hezekiah,” Isaac said, “you’ll have to make up for it.”
Isaac pulled his hand from the door, walked down the stone pathway, and onto the sidewalk.
Zeke closed the door and stood before it, ruminating in the silence. The Tainted Generation. The Deliverer and the Damned.
Another tarnished inheritance for him. Another cankerous clan he became a part of, blight and lousy reputation, clung to his soul like thin webs. Hard to see, seemingly impossible to get rid of. No matter how hard you shake it off, it’s never completely gone, and you can feel it.