Selling the country house was emotional to say the least for the Muir brothers. Leaning on the white metal fence overlooking the Potomac River, Rodney stares for the last time at the family of Ospreys skimming the body of water outside the empty crib, a transcendent view that now belonged to NBA draft bust Methusaleh Dandridge (recently traded to the Wizards in exchange for cash, Memphis center Jamarcus Green, and power forward Li Jeng). Rodney blinks, unexpectedly sees a vision of Century City skyscrapers, magenta sun reflected off the glass skyline, where did that sudden yearning come from? Then, a text arrives—
Scott: going to Georgetown Starbucks
Rodney: murder Bux is closed
Scott: Violet wants to tell me something
Rodney: what?
Scott: …
Rodney: pregnant?
Scott: …
Rodney: just tried calling you
Scott: …
No text arrives. Rodney jumps into his car and heads for the Starbucks in Georgetown. Old Fort Road to Allentown Road. Right on 210 Indian Head Highway. Rodney slows down for the speed trap at Malcolm X Boulevard. Calls his brother again. Gets voicemail. Exits the ramp to 295 North.
Steering toward Washington, cellphone chirping, Rodney takes the call from an agency assistant at Omniscience/Ragnarök: “Please hold for Lester Barnes and Walter Nikolovski.”
Nikolovski: “Hey, it’s Walter. I thought you were dead.”
Rodney: “Stop reading coverage.”
Lester: “What’s new with Jew, Rodney?”
Rodney: “That’s a loaded question.”
Left onto I-695 for a minute, Rodney turns onto Southwest Freeway, past the Capitol building, veering over three lanes to get off at Maine Avenue, reminding him of Highland and the 101 North and the five lanes it takes to cross over to Barham Avenue—
Lester: “Nikolovski and I were talking about you at the celebration of life for Arthur Livingstone, such great creative instincts, we were wondering, have you ever considered being an agent?”
Independence Avenue to Ohio Drive, Whitehurst Freeway to K Street, Rodney says he can’t talk, he’s racing to save his brother from being murdered by their triplet sister who went insane in utero, tossed onto the operating room floor by careless doctors, a subcutaneous mass of hair, teeth, and eyeballs rescued by a hospital—
Lester: “So dark, I love it. Walter, get Screen Gems on the phone. Call it Sin Utero. Who else has heard this pitch?”
Right on Twenty-Ninth Street, left onto Q Street, right on Wisconsin Avenue, Rodney keeps ranting about the volunteer nurse who raised the imp only to die in a mysterious fire, their vanished triplet growing up to exact revenge, running over their elderly parents, seducing the brothers at her place in Alexandria, this is not a pitch, this is real, shouts Rodney, he has to get to Starbucks—
“Seek help,” says Lester Barnes, hanging up, regretting the call.
On Wisconsin, Rodney finds a space, hops out of his car, and sprints toward the ambush. Turning left on Thirty-Fourth Street, green Starbucks awning now visible, he arrives at the coffee house parking lot, and barges into—
A candlelight vigil for Maggie Katz.
Rodney searches for his brother among the faces of DC Statehood advocates, political mosquitos, homeless dudes sipping coffee, and butch members of the Bethesda Lesbian Avengers singing “Happy Birthday” for their fallen barista at this anti-violence observance/birthday celebration.
Flash of Maeve among the lesbians; flame hair shorn off like an army grunt or cancer patient, unclear which team drafted her; glimpse of Scott in the carnival-esque parking lot; Rodney runs past a fire-eating demonstration to save his brother when an unsmiling Violet enters the frame—
Targeting her like a drone strike, Violet finds Maeve, planting a soulful kiss on her lips, tongue sliding around her girlfriend’s eager mouth, leaving the Muir brothers staring at the Sapphic couple.
Scott: “Well, that explains that.”
Rodney: “Violet didn’t do Starbucks.”
Scott: “T’was beauty she wanted.”
Rodney: “I can think of a worse ending.”