“What the hell is that supposed to mean? I don’t trust your double-tongued talk you insane bible thumper,” Merge said. “Yeah, you provided me shelter, a purpose and protected me from some ugly stuff, and now you want me to give back to others what you did for me?”
“You have the land, the resources and more than anything, the space,” he said to Merge.
Joel Thomas Lee liked being a technician. He enjoyed tending his carefully cultivate crops of hemlock, oleander and every day plants that were toxic to human and animal alike, but more than anything he enjoyed his peace. The Archangel was a busy body of the worst kind, he did it in the name of the Lord which meant the man never thought he was wrong.
“You’re wrong on whatever you are thinking. I’m not going to take on some middle-aged woman with a houseful of kids and become some ready-made dad. It’s not my way, and you can’t make me,” Merge said frowning, shifting slightly on the bar stool. “I will admit, Exit was kind of worried when he thought I was coming for his wife. Hey do I get a necktie as well?”
“Stay focused Joel. All your thoughts seem to merge together when you speak. Yes, you will get everything that is coming to you,” Archangel said getting to his feet. “Come on, bring it in.”
He outstretched his arms for Mr. Merge to walk into for a hug. It was a thing he did every night for nearly a year before getting Joel into college. Spring break, Summer breaks, and holidays, he spent with Gabriel Neary or his brothers, working, earning money to help offset his costs of living and tuition. Gabriel also maintained contact with Joel’s grandfather in Monroe County, Arkansas, sending reports on the progress. It was no surprise to Gabriel when Jedediah Williams made the call asking for his grandson to come home.
The forty acres of land tended with care over the years was the birth right of Joel Thomas Lee, since his mother had been the only living child to survive childbirth for the Williams’. Jedediah’s heart broke when his only daughter Ursula ran off with a seasonal worker, a white man named Robert Earl Beauregard Lee. He later found out that Ursula had married the man and gave birth to a son, Joel whom they raised in Ohio.
Years passed without Jedediah hearing from his daughter, only to find out from a man who called himself the Archangel that Ursula and Robert Earl both were killed in a car crash. Joel entered foster care and try as he might to find his only grandson, his effort had failed. By that time, the Archangel had taken oversight of Joel. Regular reports were sent of the boy headed off to college and at the encouragement of the Archangel, majored in soil sciences at the university.
All of it paid off. Jedediah sent word that his health was changing and Joel was needed on the farm. Seven years after the death of the old man, Joel still managed the land with deft precision. However, things were about to change for the technician in a way he’d never imagined. The Archangel was up to his normal meddling.
“I don’t trust you Gabe. You’re planning something and I’m not going to have much say in it, so I’m telling you now, I don’t want a wife, or kids,” Merge stated adamantly.
“Not a problem. No wife. No ready-made family,” Gabriel answered, giving a toothy grin. “Come on, bring it in.”
“I don’t want a hug. I don’t want to hug you,” Merge said pouting, but getting to his feet.
The big brother hugs always made Joel feel better. No matter how crappy his day had gone, every night before bed, Gabriel Neary gave the young man a brotherly hug. Before he left for school in the morning, or returned to college, or off to Summer work assignments in the church camps for teens, Gabriel Neary gave him a hug. Anger simmered just below the surface as he embraced the man, needing the connection, accepting the love and support, yet never wanting to admit he craved what the Archangel offered.
“Joel, things are going to change for you. Step into this and use what you spent Summers learning how to do, but think bigger. I’m here if you need resources or support, but you need to go home now,” the Archangel said.
“Why? What have you done?” Joel said, stepping out of the hug.
“The bill is coming due for you. You’re right, it’s time to pay up,” Gabriel said, leaning in to provide a fond kiss to Merge’s temple. “Be safe. Call me when you get home or if you need anything.”
“I need for you to leave me the hell alone, that’s what I need!” Mr. Merge said to the man’s strong back as he walked away. “Shit, I shouldn’t have come back. I shouldn’t have come back. He was expecting me. Sitting here drinking wine like he’d just left the Last Supper. Gabe gets on my gosh dang gone nerves. The bill is coming due. Ain’t that what I just said to him?”
Mr. Merge, the technician skilled with all things toxic, worked for the company for nearly six years. He created and provided a product. In the past he worked alongside Wrong Way to create the solvents she used in that truck of hers. Most of what he created, The Company bought in batches and seldom was he required to make personal appearances. This time he had to come to North Carolina, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized it had been set up by the Archangel.
“Yeah, I’m headed home. I’m heading home because I’m ready to go, not because you said I needed to Mr. Archangel,” he grumbled, making his way out the side door to his shop.
The drive home would take ten hours if he pushed it going through Atlanta, but he would drive as far as Knoxville tonight, going up and over through Tennessee instead. For lunch tomorrow he would stop in Nashville and grab a couple of hot chicken dinners and then roll on to the farm.
“If he thinks I’m getting married, that man has another thing coming,” Merge said grumbling for the entire trip to Arkansas. Just outside of Memphis he stopped to pick up dinner for himself. An odd sensation settled into his belly and he ordered two dinners.
A quarter past the hour of six, he arrived at Valvasti’s Way, driving up the long dirt road to the homestead. The white house, built when his great great grandfather was a sharecropper on the land, still stood. Over the years, minor improvements were made to the house, bringing it to modern times, but the last six years, Joel took pride in modernizing the farm house.
He’d set subtle markers about the place to indicate if someone had trespassed on his land, or were hiding in his home. The automatic cameras would kick on and give him and indication if such matters were taking place. Once he crossed over into Arkansas from the Tennessee state line, the camera kicked on, showing off and intruder who let himself in through a side window. Only the intruder wasn’t looking to steal, he sat down his backpack, took a seat on the couch and went to sleep.
“Good thing I bought two dinners,” Merge said, pulling in around the side of the house and coming through the back door.
His two cats, Oleander and Night Shade greeted him at the back door. He added one scoop of wet food to each bowl, scratching his friends behind the each of their ears. The automatic feeder provided dry food when he was away; he enjoyed giving a wet as treat. In return he received a modicum of soft love vis a vis the form of rubbing fur against the legs of his pants. The other visitor on his couch he was about to awaken.
The containers of food were placed on the table, as well as two cold bottles of water from the fridge, and a two glasses worth of lemon aid made earlier in the week. Two forks, no knife and a spoon were placed on the table with a napkin as Merge took a seat, and cleared his throat. The body on the couch jumped awake, grabbing for the backpack, ready to bolt.