The Continuing Saga of:
”ICICLE BILL and Tommy Two-Head”

Epilogue

The slow, steady tap-tapping of single finger typing filled the small but respectable office of Miles Hurley. Word had spread that the savvy litigator was back on his feet after a string of successful court appointed cases had gone his way. Business had picked up significantly. The new secretary-receptionist couldn’t type very well, but he found her presence invaluable in distracting a jury or influencing potential clients or judges. Hurley flipped through the morning mail, opening one from San Diego that peaked his interest. It read:

Dear Mr. Hurley,
I’d like to thank you for your gracious help in recent legal matters. T and I are doing fine. I’m taking classes and for the first time in a long time, am optimistic of the future.

What the letter didn’t say was that Tom had taken his share from the money bag and bought a used sailboat where he and G Lu were living. He chartered tours back and forth to Catalina Island while she worked on her tan.

Mr. Hurley, I wanted you to know, that even though your client didn’t show up for his arraignment there, nor for his appearance in L.A., you shouldn’t feel dismayed. I’ve witnessed firsthand that the details of his bizarre story were true. There is, in fact, a midget girl and she does seem to possess some sort of mystical powers. It’s also true that her boyfriend exists, as advertised, bald-headed and riding a vintage motorcycle. What’s become of them, I can’t say as I have no idea. From appearances I’d imagine they’re doing alright.

Molly had set up shop telling fortunes in the Tenderloin section of San Francisco. Bumperjack kept a close eye on her from across the street where he worked as a bouncer and doorman at a leather bar.

I’m moving on with my life and made peace with previous enemies. What’s done is done and I’ve chosen to move forward and not dwell on the past.

Heavy Griz was staying with Becky Wick at her dad’s estate. He swore off drugs and was steering clear of gang violence and politics. He drove Blinky Mo to rehab three times a week. Judge Wick provided him with occasional work and odd jobs where he found his old connections to be valuable resources.

Thank you in advance Mr. Hurley for not revealing my true identity to authorities and arranging the cash bond in your name. It’s for the best for everyone. I hope you’ll accept the enclosed gift in the best light, as it’s intended.

Hurley pulled ten, crisp one-thousand dollars bills from the envelope.

I know they’ll be looking for B now, I don’t think they’ll find him.

The signal from the GPS lead Detective Smith into the mountains, over looking the desert far below. There in the rubble of some large bird’s nest lay what remained of the ankle tracking device. Smith’s examination showed the strap had been cut, apparently some scavenger creature had gathered it up to use as nesting material. As he scanned the horizon a large-headed buzzard soared ominously overhead, flying south.

Mr. Hurley, I don’t want you to feel bad about your part in things. I truly believe that B did everything he did with good intentions in mind. I visited my brother’s grave and I believe where he’s buried to be a haunted place. I’ve heard told that it’s a place where tormented souls roam restlessly seeking revenge for wrongs done to them. After seeing the place, I can’t disagree. I also don’t know if my brother can rest in peace there; at times I still feel his presence.

The turkey buzzard lands beneath the Mesquite, it lopes to G’s grave and remains there motionless.

I feel we all left a piece of ourselves out there in the desert Mr. Hurley, but what we gained is far more valuable than what we lost. I can honestly say that I know what’s important in a life now, the things I used to value seem worthless compared to the love and companionship of true friends and loved ones. No matter where they are, no matter how far apart, genuine love and concern for others transcends time and miles.

In a tree-lined trailer park many miles away, Bill exits a tiny, weathered trailer... As he steps into the rusty old four-by-four Scout, from the doorway a dark, mysterious woman calls: ”Be careful Estrano, and be back before dark.” He drives a short distance to a green, lush cemetery where he walks the lawns, grave to grave, inspecting the gravestones. He’s looking for a new identity. It’s a cloudy day and he looks up at the sky to calculate the chance of rain. He notices a shiny black raven perched atop a small stone that marks an inauspicious grave. He steps towards it.

Mr. Hurley, maybe it is true that all lives are interconnected and we can’t hurt another without hurting ourselves. By the same token, it goes to follow that we can’t help another without helping ourselves. In the great scheme of things, if that’s true...I’m alright with it. There are events and occurrences that we have no control over.

Jimmy Fingers lays motionless beneath the Mesquite, his face and body have been covered over with dust from the desert wind. From the distance someone approaches, it’s the Old Indian man with a trailing mule. He notices Jimmy there and leans in to see if he detects breathing. For a small, old man he’s remarkably strong and hoists Jimmy onto the mule. Calmly and slowly, he leads it away.

For my part in these things, I can’t honestly say I regret all of them. Maybe we’ll meet again one day Mr. Hurley, until then, I wish you the best and hope you a long and happy life.

Sincerely,

Gloria Lupino

Miles Hurley folded the letter carefully and considered it. He then lit a match and burned the envelope and letter in the desktop ashtray. ”Belinda, I’ve got a bank deposit!” Belinda Butluggage sashayed in wearing proper office attire, a silk skirt and crisp blouse. Hurley filled out a deposit slip, handed her a bank deposit envelope and watched as she exited the office. He just shook his head in appreciation. When he’d hired Belinda Butluggage it was supposed to be as a favor to Detective Smith. Turns out, maybe he was the one to be the beneficiary.

”Huh, maybe there is something to this can’t help somebody without helping yourself mumbo.” He didn’t have much time to be thinking about such nonsense though, running a one-man law office can be pretty hectic. He looked up from his mountain of paperwork and his eyes fell on the picture of his son on the desk. Well, maybe he’ll jot down a few lines and send the boy a little spending money. Might even get over to visit him one of these weekends. He gazed out the window to an open, blue sky.

That same sky was just as blue and clear above San Diego Bay. Tom was busy top-deck rigging a new sail rope. The waves lapped gently at the hull and the small boat happily rocked in it’s mooring. Tom called down to the galley. ”What’s ya doin’ G?”

From below deck G Lu called back. ”Nothing baby. Just a little project for one of my classes.” She rolled a fresh page into the typewriter and scrolled up to center the title.

”The Saga of Icicle Bill & Tommy Two-Head”

Chapter One

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