I know that we told you dear readers that this story isn't about Mishka, but here is where his short story ends, amid a storm so tumultuous that it could be heard up into the Heavens and far across the vastness of space and all the way to U-leyla.
Mishka was enamored with the beautiful Maggie May, perhaps it was because she was his first, the only one who had allowed him into their life. Perhaps it is because for the first time, he did not have his father breathing down his neck, after what had happened with Bralyn. He was blind, blinded by the fact that he could take her and hold her and not have to feel alone.
Four months had passed, they were still together, but they never went out in town. She always wanted to go to a different town, thirty of forty minutes away to have dinner or go to a movie. They would go off to hotels and spend time away from her apartment after that first time, never wanting people to see her and him together again.
One day she went to work, leaving him back at his apartment, she kissed him and drove off with what appeared to be a tear in her eye. She had said, "I love you baby," and then drove off without any more words.
Mishka waited for her call, a call that did not come, not after twelve hours nor after twelve days. He told everyone that she must be doing double time and is just far too tired to do anything, he had convinced himself of that. A month passes, still no call from Maggie, but he had called her every day and it just went to voicemail.
He finally called her at work and she told him, "Baby I am so busy right now, but I promise we'll be together soon. I promise, I love you baby."
"I love you too," He replies and she hangs up.
Before Mishka knew it, another month had passed, the shop had been reopened and the place looked even more amazing then he or anyone else could imagine. It was like stepping back in time and seeing the old gas station built brand new. They had even installed gas pumps, that even though they do not pump fuel, they still light up and look amazing.
He worked harder than he had before, he actually had a smile that had not been there before. Whatever had come over him, it made him genuinely apologize to Laurel and beg forgiveness for his outburst. She accepted reluctantly, and Yuri stood mediator, because one only had to look to tell that she was still upset.
"You, Mishka, are quite literally an ASSHOLE." She looked him right in the eye, "I don't think I can trust you anymore."
"I'll make it up to you."
"I don't believe you can, nor should you, go on." She shoos him away like a child, "Go play with your toys and leave me be, I have work to do. I cannot run this warehouse with you under foot, AND DON'T think that these roses are going to make up for your bad behavior!" She smiles slightly as she smells the dozen yellow roses he had given her. "I know Yuri told you my favorite flower! So, you better thank him you bum!"
At the hospital, Mishka arrived with two dozen white roses and asked for Maggie May, and the ladies at the desk said that she could not be bothered and could they give her a message. He left the flowers and a note, telling Maggie that he would wait for her at her apartment this evening.
Six o'clock that evening Mishka was waiting outside her door, a neighbor or two had passed and just stared at him as he stood there. No one said anything, no one did anything, they only looked at him like he was a creep. Lurking in the hallway, he decided that he should go sit in his vehicle until he catches sight of Maggie.
Lots of people went in and out of the building, so he people watched as long as he could, and before he could stop himself he fell asleep just as a gentle rain began to fall. It was a loud crack of thunder and someone banging on the window that woke him, it was Maggie and she was pointing in the direction of the building.
He got out and followed her, running swiftly across the wet pavement and making his way to the door. They were both soaked, and she dropped her keys a few times trying to get them into the lock. She was chilled and her hands were shaking, but not because of the cold to be honest, but for other reasons soon to be known.
"Look honey," She turns and looks at him, " We can't keep doing this. It was great at first, but I just need my space now." The door opens and what was once a disaster is now clean, organized and beautiful. "I can't let you in anymore."
"Why not?" He looks at her confused. "Did I do something wrong Maggie?"
"No baby, no," She assures him. "It was me baby, I shouldn't have."
"You shouldn't have what?" he asks and pushes his way inside to take a better look around.
"Yeah baby, you shouldn't have what?" a commanding voice came from the open doorway behind him. Another man, one of his own people stood in the door, nearly as big as Yuri. Six foot seven, six foot eight, nearly as wide and twice as mean.
"Who is the asshole?" He walks over and grabs Mishka, "Who are you?"
"Mishka, his name is Mishka." She tells him and tries to gently make him release Mishka.
"Your name is Mishka, well Mishka, you know you have been banging my wife?"
"Wife?" he looks confused, "Who are you?"
"My name is Wrath, I have been on deployment for eighteen months, and this is my wife, I'll spell it for you, so you can understand. W-I-F-E." He points at Maggie, "Her NAME, by the way, IS CALYPSO."
"But she said she was single, and," Now that he looks around and the place is clean, he can see their pictures on the wall, her in a wedding dress and he in uniform. "These photos," he points at the wall, "they were not there before. This place was a disaster, we could barely move in here."
Her husband turns and looks at her, "Is that right? Well, I am going to take out the trash and when I am done, well baby. We are gonna have us some fun doing some real clean up in here." Wrath threatens, "Have you been spending my money, on him?" That was the last thing Mishka heard, other than, "Where is all of it?"
It was moments he thought, but it seemed to go on forever, the beating. It isn't like he had not had one before, he had had many by his father's hand. Disciplined from an early age that his one responsibility was to the family, anything other than that and he was beaten. No talking back, no ignoring, do as your told and not as you wish.
He had taken so many beatings before his nineteenth birthday, his father said that he would never measure up, never accept what he is supposed to do. "All firstborn males are to care for the younger siblings. Your responsibility is to help them find work, be stable and encourage them to find mates and procreate."
"What about me?" He had asked when he was eight or nine years old.
"You, you get to watch and maybe before your too old, you'll get to bond too." His father had smiled briefly before the pain began. Beating the boy over and over again with his hand and anything that was not tied down, anything that he could find to punish the boy with.
Barely, he barely made it back to the shop, blood oozing out of almost every pore. At least that is what it felt like. Could he move his feet and get out of the car? Hell, he could barely see the drive home, let alone stand he thought. How, how am I to get to bed, he thought.
"MISHKA! Oh my god, Mishka!" He heard her voice, and standing there, was Laurel. "Unlock the door!"
He fumbles, and gets the lock open and she reaches for him. Tears, even in this rain, he could see the tears that stood out differently on her face. She was crying, for him. She tried to lift him, tried to drag him from the car, but he was too heavy. She rips a piece of her shirt and holds it on his forehead, then promises that she will be right back.
He see her running across the lot, running to the house and banging on the door, screaming for Yuri to hurry. It was still pouring rain when his brothers come to him, seeing her face scared them, scared them all. It was his brother Yuri who lifted him from the car, carried him into the house and lay him on his bed. It was Yuri, who held him while she removed his wet clothing and tended to his wounds.
When he was in his underwear and covered, and they had toweled him off so that they could see how badly he was injured, only then did he see the tears trying not to fall from his brothers eyes. He could see their chest tighten and the look on all of their faces as she worked diligently to care for him.
"I don't know what to do," she cries, "I don't know if I am helping or hurting him." So, she does the one thing that he never imagined she would do. "Lt. Colonel, it's Laurel, Mishka is hurt really bad and I don't know what to do."
