Ed P. Rex

She nodded. "Right. You know, cyclists do that. They get on their bikes and they go on the road." She gestured with her fingers, mimicking the motions of travel.

Ed sighed. What she had taken for granted that he understood had been stuffed back into his subconscious. It didn't matter now.

A guard tapped on the wall. "You gotta go back in there, sir."

Ed hunched his shoulders. He looked as if he'd been struck with a ten-pound hammer. Even if he were proven innocent now, his political career was over when it had barely begun. He resigned himself to his fate, and followed the guard.

Despite the ceiling fans and air conditioning, the courtroom was close. Too many bodies were pressed into the space. Ed looked miserable as he took his place beside his lawyer.

The prosecuting attorney called Sergei van Zant to the stand.

"Who is that?" Ed murmured.

His lawyer whispered back, "CIAO agent from the former administration."

"I do," van Zant was saying.

"Mr. van Zant, did you know Mayor Reyes?"

"Yes, in one capacity or another, I worked with him or for him for ten years."

"So you know what he looked like."

"Yes, of course."

The mean, wicked, nasty attorney held up a large picture. He showed it to the witness and then to the courtroom. Ed gasped. It was a picture of a man wearing a bike helmet and sunglasses.

The attorney threw Ed a pointed look, but directed his questions to the man on the stand. "Is this your former boss?"

"Yes, that's him."

"Tell the court what happened on March 20, 2005."

"Lance -- Mayor Reyes -- was on a road trip. He liked to do this every year," van Zant explained. He licked his lips. He looked terrible, as if he himself were guilty.

"Go on."

"He didn't want any CIAO agents with him, he hated having us follow him around. He used to say that all the time, 'Quit following me around.' He told us to leave him alone, let him take a vacation in peace."

"But you didn't."

"No. I wanted to protect him anyway."

"So what did you do?"

The man sighed. "I fucked up, okay? Can't we just get to the point and say I fucked up?"

"Clean up that language!" barked the judge.

"Answer the question, civilly please." The prosecutor was unruffled.

"I followed at what I thought was a discreet distance. Lance took a road that was under construction, which at the time I thought was smart, because the road was closed, so there were no cars on it. But this, this idiot, here --" van Zant pointed at Ed, obviously thinking of a different name "-- took the road too.

"I don't know what he was thinking. Anyway the next thing I know, I come up over the hill, and there's this guy stuffing my boss and his bike into the back of his SUV."

The volume in the gallery rose and the judge shouted for order. The prosecuting attorney very painstakingly instructed the witness to identify Ed as the person he had seen. Then he resumed his questions.

"Did you yell? Try to stop him?"

Sergei van Zant was weeping. "I told you I fucked up!"

The judge slapped her gavel and shouted but the man's torrent of words continued.

"... I was a coward. I ran. I've been hiding in fucking Iowa in the fucking cornfields for the past, six, fucking, YEARS!! "

"You're outta here!" bellowed the judge.

In an unusual show of compassion, the bailiff gave Sergei a Kleenex as he left the stand. The witness blew his nose and dabbed at his eyes. "This is what I hoped would never happen."

The rest of the trial proceeded fairly quickly. Ed was cooked. He had admitted striking and killing the cyclist and getting rid of the body. And a witness who had nothing to gain had now identified said cyclist as former mayor Lance Reyes.

Ed wondered if a different set of decisions would have allowed him to wiggle out of this mess. Maybe a different lawyer would have been better. Maybe he should have run to Canadia, where all that Canadian bacon came from. But escape from his fate seemed unlikely. They led him away to his cell.

Fortunately, he did not have to stay there. Posting bond was relatively easy for the politician. They put an electronic bracelet on his ankle, and told him he could go home.

But his home was not much of a haven. His wife looked at him with eyes full of pain, sorrow, even anger. Despite the tide of emotions, there was not much to say. Ed apologized, sincerely, for everything. He had made some heinous mistakes. That was his only defense.

Jocelyn nodded. "I know." She regarded him from across the room. The distance between them might have been an entire continent. "I just need some time, okay?" She retreated to another part of the house.

Ed sighed and called his parents. They had offered to drive down. At the time he had declined, but it had been one hell of a day, and he decided to take them up on it. They would have heard on the news by now just who it was he had killed. He hoped they would still be supportive.

"I need to talk to you, son," said Pablo. "Something we should have discussed years ago."

"What is it?"

"Let's talk in person. Your mother and I will be there tomorrow."

"Okay, I'll see you then."

His mom got on the line. "You're our son and we love you. Don't forget that, Edward."

"I love you too, Mom." Ed hung up, feeling just a tad bit better. He'd lost his wife and his career, and no doubt he would wind up in jail. He'd killed a man, and inadvertently poisoned hundreds of people. But at least he still had his mom and dad.

* * *

The next morning Ed went downtown to meet with his legal team. The men hoped there would be a way to avoid the death penalty.

"Obviously this is important, but my parents are driving down from Michigan. Let's wrap this up before dinner, okay?"

They tried, but it did take a long time to wade through all the possible scenarios and strategies. Ed tried to call home, and Jocelyn's cell phone, but got the voicemail every time. There was no answer on his parents' phones, either. He was starting to get worried. Someone should have answered by now.

Dr. Spinks called as he was driving home. "Ed, I'm very sorry."

"What? What is it?" A terrible feeling ran down the back of Ed's neck.

"I'm so sorry," the doctor repeated. He made some noises, as if trying to find the right words. "Ed, there was a terrible car accident. Both of your parents are dead."

"Oh, God!" Ed pulled over. He stumbled from his car and put his hands on his knees, thinking he was going to be sick. Tears rolled down his face. Dr. Spinks' voice kept coming from his phone: "Ed? Ed? Answer me!"

Ed leaned his head against the door with his eyes closed, breathing hard and mentally going far, far away. This can't be happening, he thought. This can't be real.

Finally he picked up the phone. "I'm here."

"Where are you?"

"I'm almost home," he managed. "I'm going to go on home."

The mayor drove home in a daze. His mind could barely grasp everything that had happened. It seemed now that there had never been a time when his life was simple and sweet. It seemed he had been dealing forever with one thing or another — toxic waste, law suits, murder. And now this.

He stumbled into the mansion, hoping to find Jocelyn, hoping she would give him even a small measure of comfort, if only out of pity. No one answered his calls. The house had a dead-quiet feel to it, as if no one were home. He went from room to room, jogging a little faster as a feeling of dread grew in the pit of his stomach.

It was in the bedroom that he found his wife. She lay stretched out on the bed. Beside her were several empty prescription bottles. It looked as if she had taken every pill in the house, and because of the stress they'd both been under, there were a lot.

Folded in her arms was an old, yellowed envelope. Although his name was on the front, it was written in his father's handwriting. The envelope looked as if it had been sealed and torn open. Bewildered, Ed opened the letter and read:

March 15, 1986

Dear Edward,

If you are reading this letter it means that both your mother and I have passed. We have instructed that it be delivered only in the event of our deaths.

What we could not bring ourselves to tell you is that you were adopted. Please know that this decision was not an easy one to make. Maybe it is wrong to keep it from you, and if so we hope you will forgive us. We love you, and only wanted to protect you and provide the best for you -- a stable, loving home -- and we hope we succeeded in doing so. You will always be our son in our hearts.

It is possible that you will want to find your biological parents at this point. There is no doubt that you have grown into a fine man and they will be proud to know you. Here are their names, in case you wish to find them:

Jocelyn Austin and Lance Reyes

Love always,

Mom and Dad.

* * *

The reader may wish to revisit the story of Oedipus the King (Oedipus Rex). I recommend wikipedia for a good thumbnail sketch. Please vote ~ thanks! L8.