Mad Dog and the Dream Ch. 03

Ron thought about the gun, out in his car. "I don't know what to do."

"Justice never does." He ran his teeth over his gums. "But remember, it's not about fairness and it's not about prevention. It's too late for that. It's about what is deserved."

"I don't know."

"Liar. What did you deserve, Ron? When you abandoned Lee, or when you tried to save yourself by ending Larry? What did you deserve for that?"

Ron held his hands out, palm up, and looked down at them. "I can't."

"You can."

He shook his head. "No. I can't. And you've made a mistake. You've been keeping me in line by threatening my marriage, my wife, and my life. Now you've ruined two of those and made the third much less valuable to me. You can't control me anymore."

"You're not ready to die. Not by half."

"What makes you so sure?"

"You left the gun in your car," Andro didn't seem to be taking any delight in the exchange. He seemed almost like a disappointed parent who was trying to hide from their child the fact that they'd been let down. "And if you think that this has been about controlling you...if you think I have any interest in removing your ability to decide your path...then you are only moving further away from the truth."

"What is the truth, then?"

Andro's eyes went wide. "What a question," he said under his breath. He looked genuinely stunned. Then, "I honestly don't know."

Ron stared at him, cold and angry, for several seconds. "Did you tell her?" he asked. "Did you tell my wife about....who I am?"

Andro shook his head. "If you haven't told her, then she doesn't know."

Ron felt the last vestige of hope go out of him. He wasn't sure if he could forgive infidelity under any circumstances, but he had at least hoped that he could identify some simple explanation as to how Andro turned Maddy so completely. If the tall man had revealed the truth, then at least Ron could walk away with an understanding of who his wife was and why she was capable of betraying him. He didn't want to consider that it was as simple or easy for her as it appeared.

He believed Andro, though. If anything, the man always told the truth.

"But what is the truth?" he asked, not to Andro or even himself but just to say it.

Andro put a hand on his shoulder. "I honestly don't know." He let go, and sighed.

Ron shook his head. "Well, whatever it is, I'm done. You've got nothing over me now. Kill me, I guess, if you have to, but I'm walking away. I'll be away from this town by nightfall."

Andro nodded. "If that's what you feel you need to do. If you leave tonight you can be on your way to safety long before Piero realizes you're gone." He stepped aside, leaving Ron an unblocked route to the front door. "I won't go after you. And I promise to do what I can, to make Maddy's suffering brief. Piero will of course demand some amount of retribution, but I won't let the Doctor have her for more than a single day. I swear it."

Ron stared. "Why would Piero want to hurt Maddy? She's yours now."

Andro shook his head. "No. She's not."

"Don't bullshit me, Andro. We both know-"

"Absolutely nothing. And yet you keep wanting to pretend. Are you proud of how little you know? Is that what it is?" He shook his head. "Piero can not allow Ron Melor to sneak away twice. It looks bad. So, he will take what he can get."

"Then I have to get Maddy out of here."

"Even if she would listen to you, even if she believed it, she wouldn't go with you, Ron."

"Goddamn it, Andro!"

"Let her go. It really is that simple. Walk away. You've done it before."

Ron stared at the door, but didn't move. He thought of Tony's wife, mutilated and gurgling. He smelled his own vomit, there on the floor.

"If I stay?"

Andro barked a laugh. "Why would you do that? The woman betrayed you. She fucked around behind your back. Don't tell me you haven't thought of killing her yourself."

"Maybe I have. We all think about it, at some point in our lives. But the Doctor...I..." he trailed off. "My god."

Andro nodded.

"If I stay, will she be safe?"

Andro shrugged. "Stay. Find out. You have been remarkably single-minded in your actions thus far, Ronald Melor. Stay the course, and maybe the dream will be over soon. Maybe you'll wake up."

Ron glared at him. "I thought you didn't want that. I thought you were fucking scared of it. What happens to you?"

Andro shrugged again, making his way over to the bottom of the steps. "That's what I'm hoping to find out," he admitted. "Find a hotel. Pay in cash if you can. Be back here tomorrow at noon. Piero flies in at seven, but he and I have other business that you don't need to be here for."

Ron bit his lip as Andro began making his way up the steps. Maddy was up there...

"What if I don't leave now?" he asked.

"I guess you can watch my dogs eat your vomit. I'm going to let them out, first." He winked.

He clenched his hand into a fist. "You bastard."

Andro reached the top of the stairs, and he stopped. "I'm not, actually. I knew my father." He turned back. "He was a humorless man. But then," he smiled, "my mother was a real bitch."

And then he turned and was gone.

Ron walked over to the doorway, put his hand on the knob, and stopped. He briefly considered climbing he stairs. Then, he heard the sound of a door opening and two large dogs barking. Their paws were heavy thuds on the floor as they ran.

He turned the knob and left.

He weighed over Andro's advice as he drove, but decided he would just as soon spend the night in his own bed. Even if the empty spot next to him would be a reminder of just how much he'd lost.

He tried to put a motive, a reason of any sort, to Maddy's actions. If Andro said she didn't know the truth about his past, then Ron believed it. Andro was no liar...he loved truth with a sycophant's drive. The only lie Ron had seen him tell was when he explained how the two men knew each other...and even that was mostly a series of half-truths, or truthful statements taken out of context. But what could possibly explain her behavior now? From the very start, even before Ron had met the tall man, Maddy had been spending time with Andro and lying about it. Then, as Andro dangled death and madness before him as threats to keep him in line, he'd also managed to further Maddy's disconnect and, ultimately, to drive her away and into his own bed.

The idea that she would lie to him, cheat and abandon him for another man, was incongruous with everything Ron thought he knew about Maddy. But the way she went about it...the indignation, the weeping phone call, the denial even as she stood in Andro's house, in Andro's robe, her hair wet from Andro's shower...it baffled him.

What could possibly explain the gaping canyon separating her words from her actions? The whole thing stunk of Andro's manipulations, yet Ron couldn't think of any explanation that would absolve Maddy. There was simply no way he could convince himself that she was guiltless.

Of course, neither was he.

From the beginning, Andro had leashed him with an amused insistence, and Ron had suffered it in the hope of somehow waiting the storm out. In trying to play it safe, he'd aided in his own collaring. And he should have known that once that was done, it would make the both of them that much easier to bring to heel.

He shook his head. He would not blame himself. What more could have been done? Maybe he should have told her the truth from day one, but he'd spend the last few days doing everything he could to protect her. He'd been desperate. After seeing what happened to Tony...

And he'd trusted her, goddamn it. He'd trusted her!

"How could you?" she'd asked. And then she'd hung up.

How could he what? Try to save them both? Try to protect Maddy from the consequences of his own past mistakes? Love her?

How could he? How could HE?!

How could she?!

He wiped a tear from his eye as he rode the on-ramp onto the interstate.

Ron sat up all night, in his recliner, staring at the wall before him. There was no need to sleep. Tomorrow would be a short day.

They would all be there. Andro, Maddy, Piero. The Doctor. The ghost of Larry, and the memory of Lee. The spirits of Tony and his wife. The dim spectre of a child who had barely known this world before being sent on into the next.

And Ron, who had in his way helped to bring all of these people to their end.

He didn't move, just listened to the clock on the mantel quietly clicking away the seconds. He waited, with a patience that stretched into eternity.

Tomorrow, he had decided, Andro was going to get his gun back.

Eventually, the dark took on a faint blue hue as the sun began tentatively accepting a new, if familiar, mission. Ron Melor watched it come, waiting until the blues had become purples, then reds, then simply light as the daylight found its happy medium. He watched the day come on, new and teary. He watched it grow into a moody, if optimistic, adolescent. He waited. Finally, it was beginning to careen towards the beginnings of a fat, lazy middle age. And then Ron went out, and had breakfast.

He took his time. He didn't simply eat his pancakes and scrambled eggs, he tasted them. He drank three cups of coffee. He paid his bill. And then he was ready to die.

It was nearly two when he arrived at Andro's, well after the time he'd been told to show up. He parked by the large marbled mailbox and tucked the pistol into his waistband. There wasn't really a plan, or an inkling of hope. There wasn't really a future to plan for. There was only the moment.

He took a deep breath, opened the door, and got out.

No sooner had he reached the front door than it swung open. Once again, Andro seemed to have predicted his arrival. He was shirtless again, with a swimming suit dripping water on the floor and a towel in his hands.

"Ron!" he said, smiling. "I was beginning to worry that you might have skipped town. I would have been disappointed."

Ron looked at him, and didn't speak. Now was the moment; Andro was weaponless.

But before he could move, the tall man swung in and gave him a strong-gripped, water-logged, hug. He'd dropped the towel in his hands as he reached out to give Ron the warm embrace of a long-lost brother.

It was so unexpected, so incongruous with Andro's usual behavior, that Ron froze. His muscles tense, but his joints locked. Of all the scenarios that had played out in his mind, none of them involved such intimate, personal contact with his enemy. It wasn't until Andro pulled back, and Ron was becoming aware of the dampness on his clothes, that he realized that Andro had taken the gun.

Andro looked at him, the smile still strong on his face, and he hefted it. He popped the clip out, inspected it, seemed to be evaluating the weight, and then reinserted it. "I know," he said, "and you're right." His smile faded a bit, and his eyes became caring, concerned. "But not just yet. It will be soon. I promise. It'll even be today. You just have to be patient for a little bit longer. Come on," he turned and walked back through the large open area that segued between foyer, living room, and kitchen, and to a pair of patio doors that sat opposite the front door at the back of the house. "Let us enjoy what time we have left," he called over his shoulder. "Besides, I have a present for you. One I think you'll like."

He turned and waited. Ron clenched his jaw, and reached down with one hand to feel the empty space on his waistband where the gun had pushed against his skin. Then, he followed.

Andro's back patio area was a large concrete sitting area that wrapped around a swimming pool and hot tub. Near the hot tub was an aluminum patio set that included three swivel chairs wrapped around a half-circle mini bar, and two love seats sitting opposite each other with a fire pit in the middle. Piero, his waddling fat frame clad in nothing more than a pair of wet swim trunks, reclined in one of the love seats with a drink in his hand. His feet were up on the edge of the fire pit. He eyed Ron with an amused loathing, and then turned to the short, thin figure propped up at the minibar.

In response to whatever he said, Ron saw the Doctor turn slowly in his seat to look at him. He appraised Ron in a way that reminded him of farmer evaluating cattle to be sent to butcher. He was of Korean descent...for all Ron knew, he might have been born there...but his features were wholly unique. His eyes were so small on his wrinkled face, so buried in the folds that sat above his prominent cheekbones, that it was often hard to tell which direction he was looking in. His mouth had a thin, hard quality about it, as though the world were continually disappointing him, and his wiry hair was so thin that it gave his head the appearance of being a small, fuzz-laden skull.

The Doctor turned back to Piero and said something in response. The two men shared a laugh. Andro, who had seen this transaction as well, turned sympathetic eyes on his protégé and said, "Don't worry, my friend. That's not how it ends."

Ron nodded. A noise caught his ear...the kind of soft splashing sound, matched with a pattering drip that occurs when one exits a swimming pool. He turned, and saw Maddy.

She wore a modest one piece suit, one he didn't recognize. The truth was that, in the midst of the jealousy and confusion he felt towards her at the moment, even a modest one piece swimsuit was enough to spark heat in his chest and stain his vision red. Soaked, it clung to her body and betrayed all of her curves. She may have been well-covered, this woman he had hoped to share his life with, but she was still exposed.

As she approached the two of them, Maddy was looking at him with an expression he couldn't read. Disappointment? Embarrassment? Anger? Then she turned to Andro, and it softened. It didn't quite become a smile...her eyes were too sad for that...but it was definitely something warmer.

"Hi," she said, letting her eyes dart briefly to her husband before settling them on Andro. Ron noted that she came to a stop much closer to the tall man than to himself. A pledge of allegiance.

"Hey," Andro reached out and ran his hand across the small of her back. She didn't fight it. "Are my friends boring you?"

She shrugged. "I don't think I'm in much of a partying mood," she admitted. "I think maybe I'll go lay down for awhile." Ron remained expressionless. The whole thing, the whole display, was a message for him. How she managed to avoid looking in his direction, to avoid any sign of concern or compassion, was beyond him.

Andro shook his head and pulled her closer. "Stay. Stay. It's going to get real interesting here in a second, and I would really like for you to be here to see that."

"Let her go," Ron found himself blurting out. "She should go. Really."

Andro laughed. "Ron. Ron. I know you're frustrated, but she can't possibly leave now. What good would that do us?" He took her by the hand, and pulled her gently along as he moved over towards where Piero and the Doctor still sat. "But since you're both so nervous, the least I can do is get things moving in the right direction."

Ron followed behind, quickening his pace to catch up. "Andro-" he started, but it was too late.

"Maddy Melor," Andro said with an air of formality, "meet Piero Saietta. Piero, Maddy."

Piero made a halfway effort to stand up, tipped his drink in her direction, and then plopped back down in his seat. "Mrs. Melor," he said. "I've heard so much about you."

"I'm afraid I can't really say the same," Maddy admitted.

"Oh, it's all very interesting," Andro smiled. "Piero, I've been promising Maddy that I would tell her some stories about our Ronald, but the truth is I'm not much of a storyteller. Got any good ones?"

Piero returned Andro's grin. "As a matter of fact, I do. Mrs. Melor, has Ron ever told you that he used to work for me?"

Ron stepped forward. "Don't do this. It's not her problem."

Piero shook his head sadly. "You made it her problem, Ron. You made it everyone's problem."

"What problem?" Maddy asked nervously.

Piero turned back to her with an expression of patient wisdom. "You see, Mrs. Melor, I am what they call a criminal. My business involves any number of activities that are, to many people, unsavory. And Ron here was in my employ for some three years. He was a good man. He didn't ask questions, or struggle with his conscience. Mostly he took care of the delivery of goods."

Maddy looked anxiously around at the men. "Is this a joke?" she asked. None of them looked amused.

"Maddy-" Ron started, but Andro put a hand up and he fell silent. It was too late now, anyway.

"So one day," Piero continued, "I send him out with a couple of guys, Lee and Tony. Lee's a good guy, just like Ron. Tony's a shit. A real 'look out for number one' type." He shook his head. "It's my fault, really. Tony shoulda been dead twice over by that point, anyway. So word gets around that a third party is interested in this transaction, and now there's a little more risk to the venture. Tony starts talking to our man Ron here, telling him it's not worth it. It's too dangerous, and they should get out while they can." Piero was still putting on the airs of a patient old man, but his face was beginning to color. He stood up, setting his drink down. "Ron...I don't know, maybe it just gets to be too much for him...Ron decides to listen to him. To walk away. To just run. Lee, he's a good guy like Ron, but he's got something Ron doesn't: loyalty. He is unwilling to betray. He's a foot soldier above all else. Lee tells them he's going to stay. Now," Piero's face was blotchy red now, his countenance dark, "Ron has a choice to make at this point. Run away with Tony, knowing full well that it will leave Lee on his own and will certainly lead to his death, or stay and risk his own life in order to both do his job and to help a friend. Do you stand with the Christians against the lions, or do you watch from the Colosseum seats?" He curled his lip up in a sneer and stepped forward, causing Maddy to lean back imperceptibly from him. "Ron leaves. He fucking leaves! And Lee dies. And then, do you know what he does?" His voice began to raise in volume, until he was almost shouting, "He decides that his big mistake, his big failure, is the loss of money! Lee isn't even buried yet, and Ron has already forgotten him! Yeah, Ron tries to make it right. He starts selling off a bunch of his personal possessions to try and replace as much of the money he cost me by running away as he can. But that's what he thinks is wrong: money. As if money makes it better! As if it will erase his failure! As if Lee hadn't died for nothing!" He turned, suddenly, and punched Ron in the face. For a fat old man, there was surprising strength there. Stumbling backwards, taken completely by surprise, Ron fell onto his back and touched his fingers to his lip. "You motherfucker!" Piero howled down at him. "And now, I call on you to redeem yourself, to purify your soul! I come to you and ask you to help me expand into this area, and on your first run out you fucking shoot an unarmed messenger! You killed two men in cold blood, Ron! And for what? Did you think you were getting back at me? Did you think you were making a point? You've started a war! People will die because of you!" Spittle flew from his mouth as he shouted, and he wiped his forearm across his mouth. "Do you know what you are? Do you know what you fucking are? You're a dog, Ron. A goddamn dog! And do you know what we do with a dog that doesn't do what it's told? Do you know what we do with a mad fucking dog, Ron? Do you?!"

In an instant, the gun was in Andro's hand. Where it had come from Ron didn't know. "We promote them," the tall man said, and then he raised it up and fired two quick shots directly into Piero's face. It made surprisingly little mess. The first shot caused a small mist of blood, which spotted Maddy's face. She screamed and fell backwards, ending up on her ass the ground a few feet away from Ron before rolling into an almost fetal position. The second shot caught the mafioso in the forehead as he fell backwards, producing little more than a dark hole.