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< < Detective Division and Parking Enforcement had one game apiece, and the third game was still up for grabs.
It wouldn't even be close -- Noel's teammates were all rolling under average tonight -- but Noel was on fire. He carried the first game, and kept the second game close until Lewis guttered on the last frame. And every ball Noel threw seemed to have more fury behind it than the last. The meter maids had thought him unstoppable, until his last ball left him a 7-10 split.
"Uh oh, Aquino, looks like your fountain of youth just gave out."
"At his age, I'm surprised he's kept it going this long."
"You'd be surprised how your stamina improves when you find a new groove."
Noel seethed as he waited for his ball to return.
"Hey, I wouldn't mind getting in *that* groove."
"No kidding. I'm surprised he's still here. I thought he would've rushed home by now."
Noel lined up. He looked down the lane at the two lonely pins. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
He barely heard Lewis behind him. "Hey, Stoval, twenty bucks says he picks it up."
"A 7-10? You're nuts."
"So?"
"You're on."
The ball swung back as Noel accelerated toward the line. The ball rocketed down the right side of the lane, kissing the lip of the gutter and hanging there... hammering the edge of the 10, sending it ricocheting across the lane and off the back to whack the 7.
"Son of a bitch."
"I don't believe it."
"We're still in this."
"Pay up," Lewis said.
Noel sat down, leaning back to stare at the ceiling before closing his eyes. Two frames to go.
He didn't care about the score anymore.
This wasn't even bowling.
With every ball he rolled, he was hammering away at demons.
Last night the demons had come out in force. Working late, determined not to go home until his son and the temptress were in bed, he'd gotten a panicked phone call. Angela was hysterical. Noel rushed home. She'd locked herself in the bathroom...
The demons had come for her. Wicked men, powerful men, cutting a path of suffering through those closest to her, coming to tear her away, to make her submit, to use her as an instrument of unspeakable acts.
And in comforting her, he'd taken the demons upon himself.
...he'd held her in his arms for hours, gently rocking her as she cried in a fitful sleep, her damningly-soft flesh pressing against his through her flimsy nightgown and his snug turtleneck, trying to extricate himself more than once only to have her wake up and dig in with a frantic grip and a heartbreaking wail. She'd finally exhausted herself just before four in the morning.
Through the acrid smoke and beer and sweat, Noel swore he could still smell Angela on him.
Noel could no more abandon such a frail creature to the ravages of demons than he could bear to be so close to her without becoming one himself.
"Hey, Aquino, your roll."
Last frame.
"We need another strike, Noel."
He dried his hands. Picked up his ball.
"Hey, Aquino, there's a phone call for you. I think it's your girlfriend!"
Noel looked over; one of the Parking Enforcement officers he didn't know was holding his hand out in pantomime, breaking into laughter. Noel's eyes narrowed. Noel's teammates were on edge; after the way he'd snapped at them last week, they didn't know how he would react.
"Jesus, Nielson, that's harsh."
"Not cool, man."
"Shut up and let the man bowl!"
Noel just kept staring, his face locked in a cold, impenetrable mask. Finally Nielson blinked, freaked out at the almost-psychotic looking detective; the ticket-writer backed up nervously, tripping over his bowling bag.
Noel's head swiveled slowly, looking back down the lane.
"Hey, Lewis, twenty bucks says he doesn't make it."
"You got another twenty to lose? Fine, I'll take it."
Noel made his approach; everyone behind him fell silent.
The dark blue ball was a blur as it sped down the lane, running just a bit wide... then it grabbed, hooking hard back toward the lead pin. The ball ripped into the pins like a ravenous beast. Defenseless white penguins were sent spinning and crashing and falling, until none were left standing.
"That's the game!"
"Pay up!"
Noel hauled his ball out of the return, dropping it into his bag without a word. His teammates patted him on the back while the meter maids groused, but Noel saw none of it.
He looked down the lane, watching the pins reset.
No matter how hard you knock 'em down, the demons pop right back up.
Noel heard a bedroom door slam just as he entered the house. He was in no mood for petulant behavior. The bowling bag had barely hit the floor when Noel was at Ricky's door, knocking so hard it rattled the hinge pins. A moment later he grabbed the knob and flung it open.
"What's going on here?" he barked.
"Nothing," Ricky said, sullen.
"Where's Angela?" Noel had expected to the girl to be in here.
"In her room," came the monotone reply.
Noel looked around for a moment. Finding nothing else to pick on, he stepped back. "Don't slam the door," he commanded.
"Yes, sir," Ricky answered dully.
Noel was about to close the door when he noticed something on the floor. A torn condom wrapper. So, they'd been at it. He scowled. The wrapper was no accident. Was it a message from Ricky, or from Angela? He was too angry to contemplate it any more deeply.
"And don't leave trash laying around on the floor."
"Yes, sir."
Noel slammed Ricky's door shut and stormed down the hall, slamming his own bedroom door shut behind him.