Among Men: Genesis, Book 1

Chapter 9

Mordred walked to the side door with Lindsey behind her catching up. She turned to find him still finishing the small rolled joint from the van ride home and she asked having noticed a man sitting outside near the tree,

"Did you see that guy out there?"

Lindsey looked around and stuck his head around the corner of the house and moved his untidy bangs out of the way, his hair nearly touching his shoulders.

"Shit." He said panicking now and holding the joint in his fingertips carefully, "Shit! Help me get rid of this."

"Who is that? What's your de-"

"That's the feds, Mora, shit. I got stuff inside! Here, make this disappear or something."

She loved his face when he was guilty and she rolled her eyes at that last comment. Lindsey was a hard worker who certainly didn't always live the life of what society called a hippie. After having returned physically and mentally scarred by the trauma of Vietnam, Lindsey found a new life in science. He was academically brilliant and partnered with Dr. David Ferrét, who fathered his best friend, they were a pair not to be trifled with or separated. David took in Lindsey as his own after returning home with the folded flag for his son, Michael, who fought by his side overseas. Michael and Lindsey had been friends since before they could tie their shoes.

It didn't take long after their introduction for Mordred to know that Lindsey is a complicated case. He was home and safe from war, but his mind was often still in the tall grasses of the jungle. Mordred understood his diagnosis of severe post-traumatic stress disorder would be a delicate fix for her father. Illnesses of the mind weren't intended for their work. But Mordred couldn't deny him.

David sat up each night with Lindsey's fits. Screaming in his sleep, crying for others that have long left him. Especially Michael. The guilt of not saving his best friend and someone's only son. David would take him in his arms to keep him from hurting himself and talk him quietly out of the jungle.

Mordred took the joint in her hands and dubbed the end into the gravel, snuffing away the ashes. She lifted one of the stepping stones leading to the side door and placed the butt underneath, pressing the stone back down with her foot.

"There." She said stomping down.

Lindsey still kept watch and he said over his shoulder,

"I bet I know why they're here."

"Why?" Mordred asked.

"Dr. Collier. They wanna scope us out after finding the tablets in his room."

Mordred scoffed and she said keeping her eyes on the stranger smoking on the front lawn, "I don't even know how Tim got those, man. He knew he could've asked me for anything and I would've made something just for him. He'd never just walk off with a whole bottle."

Mordred kept her eyes focused forward. She saw the badge on the man's hip as he sat and she patted Lindsey's back to encourage him inside. If she was going to be questioned anyhow, she didn't want to prolong it a second.

"Just go inside, Mickey. I'll deal with this." She often used his nickname to sweeten her demands. This one being a play on Lindsey's lady name: McClaine. Mordred moved forward and Lindsey gently stopped her, holding onto her wrist.

"I don't think that's a good idea. Let them come to us. It's too shady."

"It's not shady to introduce myself."

"You know that pop wants to handle this shit with Collier. He doesn't want you being involved-"

"Lindsey, Thomas can hardly handle grits that are too hot. He's 81 years old, he won't handle anything that I'm not able to do myself. Get me?"