Constant static blared in Huck’s mind. Huck was given an impossible task of helping everyone within three…no, two days, while ensuring no secrets got exposed. This was all Huck’s fault. Had he been less sloppy or created more cautious backup plans, none of this would’ve escalated to such an extent. Complaining and whining wouldn’t fix this issue, however. So, Huck simply stared holes into the papers laid before him, trying to consider every single possibility.
Do I hand Joel over? But I don’t know enough about his situation. How does Mr. Giddles know that Joel is in Blackerd? There’s no conclusive evidence that Joel is in Blackerd, though: I made sure to keep his names off any registries. But…what if Mr. Giddles wasn’t bluffing? What if he had definite proof of Joel’s existence in Blackerd? That could threaten to expose the secrets of Blackerd. What if he was bluffing? After all, Blackerd is the closest residency to Maplewood town: its a logical conclusion. Should I ask Mr. Giddles on what conclusive evidence he has to Joel’s location? No: that would be too suspicious. I should have asked that immediately during out first conversation. I’m an idiot.
Huck put down the paper relating to Joel’s investigation, and flipped through the pile of papers relating to housing registries. Huck needed to find a house that was not likely to sell, vacant, and far from the Ghetto. He had already chosen four possible candidates. Once Huck finalized his decision, he could move Bera and Zephia to the new location to keep them hidden further. Then Huck could scatter false evidence that showed the sisters were indeed in Blackerd, but “fled” upon seeing the bounty hunters. It would require a tremendous amount of planning and careful calculations.
What house is safest? How would I convince the sisters to move? How do I ensure they stay under Aaron’s radar? If I removed a house from the registry, would that make it more suspicious or less suspicious? Well, there are a decent amount of homes in Blackerd: I could probably get away with slipping a dinky little hut under Aaron’s nose. But…if he ever notices the discrepancy, then the sisters will be exposed. That would cause discord between me and Aaron, and put the sisters in danger. Is this even that urgent? Shouldn’t I focus more on Joel’s situation? No: Vic’ got shot. The bounty hunters are becoming more aggressive. If I don’t remove them quickly, then more people could get hurt. But…I need to resolve Joel’s situation in two days. Still, that doesn’t mean I should flat out ignore this relocation until…
Huck put down the stack of papers, his sunken eyes staring at the cloudy sky through the window. There were too many issues to worry about. Joel’s case. Joel’s reasoning. Bera and Zephia’s situation along with their relocation. The bounty hunters. Dante. Aaron. Victoria’s wound. Ally’s daily life.
Was there any way to fix multiple issues all at once? If Huck resolved Joel’s situation first, he could devote the majority of his attention to the other problems with less of a “forced deadline”. If Huck resolved Bera and Zephia’s situation first, that could fix so many issues that occurred inside of Blackerd’s Ghetto. However, efficiency didn’t matter because of the deadline with Joel, an-
Huck felt a soft hand touch his shoulder. Huck clutched his head in his hands, trying to think of the most ideal solution. A soft voice whispered into Huck’s ear as the hand on his shoulder moved to slowly rub his back.
‘You can just…stop, hun. You’ve done enough.’
Huck waved off the corpse’s coaxing, and got up. He used the bathroom, then returned to grab a Cola from the fridge. He popped open the bottle, took a quick swig, shook his head, then grit his teeth as he continued to stare holes into the papers. Surely, there was something he missed. As long as he put his mind to it, there was no doubt that a solution would appear.
Time shimmered as Huck scanned multiple documents. On a separate notepad, he scribbled down possibilities and plans. Maybe there was a way to fabricate that Joel fled Blackerd while hiding him in Huck’s apartment. But…Aaron most likely wouldn’t approve of that solution, and it would require Joel to stay well hidden. What if Huck turned in Joel on a minor charge and jailed him in Blackerd’s prison for a week? No: such an arrest would have to be made public, and Mr. Giddles would certainly act on that announcement.
Cold lips kissed Huck’s neck. ‘Hun…you can’t save everyone. You’ve done plenty. Rest’
What if Huck called for outside aid to assist against the bounty hunters? No, that would be too risky on so many fronts. Who would he even ask for help? If it were another town, they could very well dig into Blackerd slightly and discover multiple discrepancies…such as the size of Blackerd’s police force. If it were other bounty hunters, word might just spread of Bera and Zephia’s bounty.
‘You’re only human. Babe, let go.’
What…what if Huck sent aid to Dante to deal with the bounty hunters? But…how would Huck even provide substantial aid while under Aaron’s watchful eye? What if Huck simply got Joel, Zephia, and Aaron to flee Blackerd in one massive bundle? That could fix so many iss-
Huck slammed the table in frustration, the bottle of Cola toppling over to the kitchen floor. Huck quietly watched as Cola spread through the kitchen tile cracks, the little bubbles of fizz popping on top of the puddle’s surface. Suddenly, Huck heard the sound of a cough from the living room. Huck looked up warily to see a mildly sweaty Victoria standing there awkwardly, rubbing her arms. Huck stared at her silently, not sure of what to say. Was he halucinating? That question was answered when Victoria quickly stepped into the kitchen, grabbed a paper towel, and slowly knelt while wincing to clean up the puddle of soda. Seeing Victoria’s hand touch the puddle of carbonated fizz broke Huck out of his exhausted confusion, and he quickly tore a sheet of paper towel to do the same. As the two awkwardly cleaned the spill, Victoria let out a nervous chuckle.
“So…uh…stressed, I’m guessing?”
Huck chucked his soggy paper towel, and then soaked another sheet to wipe off the sticky residue. “...A bit, yeah.”
The pair finished cleaning up. After they chucked the rags into the trash bin, Victoria scanned the table.
“...Wow. Is this…?”
Huck quietly took a glance at the mess strewn across the table. The notepad at the edge of the table had messy bulletpoints with possible solutions, with little quotations as to why that solution might have issues or complications. A black backpack was completely flung open at the end of the table. The two piles of papers regarding Joel and the sisters had spread from their respective “piles” to jumbled “areas”. Any paper relating to Joel did not touch any paper relating to the sisters, but apart from that, the documents were scattered everywhere along the table. The surface of the table was littered with papers, with glimpses of wooden table showing here and there.
Huck slowly moved to tidy up the papers, muttering a curse under his breath for letting the table get so disorderly. Victoria said nothing as Huck lumbered around, shuffling papers into disheveled piles once more. After he finished, he turned around to meet Victoria’s eyes. She stared at him with an odd expression, silently observing Huck’s movements. After a second, she grimaced, her brow creasing in what appeared to be concern.
“Huck.”
“...Yeah?”
Victoria said nothing, but instead stepped forward to wrap her arms around the crumbling juggernaut. Though Huck stood a solid foot above Victoria’s height, the sheriff of Blackerd felt very small. He refused to close his eyes to soak in the hug’s warmth, worrying that doing so would cause him to collapse in exhaustion. Huck’s arms stayed motionless at his side, but Victoria took a slow inhale, rubbing and patting hiss back.
“You can rest, Huck.”
Huck said nothing, but his heart threatened to collapse. Despite his wavering stature, the blond woman quietly did what she could to fully support the pillar of the town. Huck wasn’t sure how long she held him. It could have been thirty seconds. It could have been two minutes. It could have been ten minutes. Was the blurring of time due to Huck’s lack of sleep, or due to some other reason? After an infinity, Victoria pulled away with a sad smile. She patted Huck’s cheek lightly.
“Dumbass. Go rest.”
Victoria dragged Huck to the bedroom where Ally was doodling in crayon. Upon seeing her sister, Ally jumped up with a light cheer and toddled over to Victoria. The older sister’s eyes sparkled with brilliance, but Victoria tightened her grip on Huck’s hand. With her free hand, Victoria ruffled Ally’s hair.
“Hey, sunshine! It’s been a while. Do you wanna go on a trip?”
“Yeah!!!”
Victoria laughed, then nodded to the living room. “Go step outside then, ok sunshine? I’ll be right there.”
Ally grinned and ran outside, leaving the sheriff and the prostitute alone in the room. Victoria quietly placed Huck down on the bed without saying a word. He stared up with exhausted eyes at the blond woman. She hesitated, gripping the hems of her dress. Huck’s fuzzy mind could have sworn the dress was raised a few inches before being lowered, but he wasn’t too sure. Victoria forced an obviously unnatural smile, and then pecked Huck on the forehead.
“G’night, sweet prince.”
As she left the room with a jingle (jingle?), the sheriff found his eyes folding into overdue slumber. The logical part of his mind screamed, saying that the problems would not go away just because he ignored them. However, as Lorraine snuggled into his chest, Huck’s heart began to crumble, his eyes finally shutting for the first time within two days.
...
Huck entered the bar wearing a suit. He had just buried Lorraine, and wasn’t sure as to what to do. Logically, nothing was stopping him from going back to day-to-day life. However, Huck’s heart didn’t hurt… yet it felt hollow. Physically, Huck was in excellent condition. Emotionally? Huck wasn’t even sure what he was.
The familiar chime of the frontdoor clinked, the bartender looking up at the guest. Gustavo nodded to Huck, and Huck quietly sat down at his usual barseat. Gustavo took in Huck’s outfit, slowly inhaling.
‘You bury her?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You ok?’
‘I…yeah.’
Gustavo put down the rag he was cleaning with, slowly nodding as his tongue prodded the insides of his cheek. After a silent second, the hispanic bartender nodded.
‘You want a drink?’
‘Yeah.’
Gustavo reached under the bar counter, but instead of retrieving a beer, Gustavo held a bottle of Cola. Huck stared in confusion as Gustavo popped open the lid, then placed the bottle in front of the sheriff.
‘Here you go.’
‘What is this?’
‘A virgin Cuba Libre.’
Something snapped inside of Huck’s mind, and he slammed his arms on the bar counter. Gustavo stared at the outburst with a calm demeaner, not even flinching at the sudden movement or sound.
‘Gus, I’m not fucking around. Get me a drink.’
Gustavo nodded. ‘And I got you one.’
Huck roared in rage, grabbing the barkeep by the shirt, pulling him closer and across the countertop. Gustavo made no resistance, and let himself be dragged forward. Huck breathed heavily, fire burning in his eyes. Gustavo said nothing and had no emotion in his eyes.
‘I…you…’
‘Yeah, hotshot?’
Huck reeled back his arm to deliver a strong punch to the bartender, then froze. The sheriff blinked and let go of Gustavo with trembling hands.
‘I…I-I’m so sorry. I don…I didn’t mean to… I don’t know what came over me.’
Gustavo stepped backwards, brushing his apron off. The bartender grabbed a beer mug, filled it up with little regard to the foam piling up at the top and proceeded to walk around to where Huck stood. The bartender placed his drink down, then walked to the front door. He flipped the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’, locking the door shut. Gustavo quietly sat on Huck’s left, staring straight forward.
After wiping his hands on his apron, he slightly turned to Huck. ‘Has it settled in that Lorraine is gone?’
The sheriff stared at Gustavo. Huck found himself blinking a bit more frequently than usual. Gustavo stuck his finger in the beer foam, balanced a few bubbles, then sucked the foam up. He smacked his lips, eyes rolled to the ceiling as he sat in the barstool deep in thought. After a moment, he shuddered with a grimace.
‘Bah. I don’t get why some guys like the beer foam. I try it out here and there, just in case my taste buds were somehow incorrect previously…yet the foam is always empty and bitter.’
Gustavo nodded to the barstool in front of Huck. ‘Sit. My neck hurts from looking up.’
Huck quietly pulled out the barstool and sat, staring at the Cola in front of him. Gustavo tapped the beer mug in his hands.
Gustavo chuckled as he thumbed his eyebrow scar. ‘You know who really liked beer foam? Joseph. Something about how it was so ‘hollow’, that he couldn’t help but like it. That man could cook a mean chicken, but man…I could never understand his beer tastes.’
The bartender put his mug down next to the Cola bottle. ‘I know you blame yourself for Lorraine’s death. I get it, the whole ‘If I didn’t drink that night, maybe I could’ve saved them’. I thought similar things when I found out about Joseph. What if I hadn’t told him about my birthday? What if I told him not to get me anything, even as a joke? Survivor’s guilt is a bitch. It’s even worse when there were options, because suddenly every option seems ideal in hindsight. So, I’ll give you a choice, while you’re emotionally in the crappiest place you’ve been in a while.’
Gustavo tapped the beer mug. ‘Drink, and be sad. Stew in misery. Deny the outcome. Mourn her memory. Imagine what could’ve been. Quit. ’
Gustavo tapped the Cola bottle. ‘Drink, and be sad. Suffer. Come to terms of her death. Struggle. Cry. Move on. Celebrate and cherish the time you’ve spent with her. Live a life she would be proud of. A life your son would be proud of.’
The bartender pulled his hands away. ‘I know it sounds as though I were peer pressuring you to choose the Cola, and I might be. A little bit. However, I think Lorraine would want you to drink the Cola, too. It’s why she fell in love with you.’
Huck’s mouth dried up, staring at the two awful options laid before him. He looked up at his close friend, not sure of what to do or say. Gustavo’s face was emotionless, simply nodding to the drinks.
‘It…It isn’t fair to make me choose when I’m like this.’
‘Maybe, but here’s how I see it: you have no excuses or layers to hide under. You’re at the weakest you’ve ever been. So, if you choose to move on? Well, that speaks volumes of who you are, and on the man Lorraine fell for.’
‘...and you’re trying to decide this with… Cola?’
‘Well, I thought it was symbolic. Lorraine mentioned something about abstaining from alcohol, right?’
‘Gus, you remember the weirdest things.’
‘Nah. I remember promises. Now, choose a drink and I’ll drink the other. Hurry up, I don’t want to down a lukewarm drink.’
Huck quietly stared at the foamy mug. If Lorraine were here, she would’ve reached past him, snatched the mug up, and then downed the entire thing in front of him. Well, that’s before she got pregnant. After getting pregnant, she would probably yell at Gustavo for bringing out the mug, then give the beer a side eye as she sipped tea or hot water. Huck would laugh, ruffle her hair, then slowly drink the beer in front of her in a mocking manner. She would smack his head, and jab him in the gut as he were mid drink. They would then go home, wash up, and cuddle up in bed, with Lorraine choosing to snuggle into his chest.
But…Lorraine was gone. She was shot. Huck buried her. Despite her kind attitude selflessly serving the entire town, only a small handful of individuals arrived to her funeral. She didn’t deserve that. She deserved a grander funeral, with hundreds of individuals mourning the loss of a great woman. No, she didn’t deserve that: Lorraine deserved to have a son. Lorraine should have grown old, and passed away peacefully in her sleep, surrounded by loved ones.
Huck coughed. He tried to speak, but choked. A tear dribbled across his cheek, but he quickly wiped away. He silently grabbed the Cola bottle. Huck faced the cash register, his head slightly tilted upwards as his eyes began to water. No one sat in the bar except for the two men, yet Huck felt someone leaning into his right shoulder. He dared not turn. He heard a quiet sigh in his right ear.
There ya go. Thanks, babe.
Gustavo quietly grabbed the beer mug, then turned to face front and center. He held the mug to Huck’s peripheral vision.
‘To Joseph. To Lorraine.’
Huck sniffled, and held the bottle up with a trembling, yet firm grip.
‘...Yeah.’
The glasses clinked. Gustavo drank in silence. Huck drank between sobs.
...
Huck woke up, his head pounding. He couldn’t help but feel as though something horrible had happened. He pushed Lorraine off his chest and stumbled to the living room. Ally was sleeping on the couch, slowly sliding off of it while in deep slumber. The clock had gone back one hour, yet the sky was dark. That could only mean one thing. Huck had slept for twelve hours, and the deadline was much more closer. Huck mentally swore, quickly sat down in the kitchen, then got back to thinking of a plan. He had some sleep, so surely his energized mind would be able to see solutions that his exhausted mind couldn’t.
The sheriff rested his head in one hand, and scanned papers in the other. He read notes and plans numerous times, trying to bundle up problems while creating “multi-fix” solutions. Huck could feel Lorraine’s soul desperately trying to pull him away from the kitchen table, but he remained determined to find a universal fix to all of Blackerd’s problems. The tired man wasn’t sure how long he sat there organizing notes, but eventually Huck heard a cough. The sheriff looked up to see Joel standing…differently. The boy stood taller than normal, and his eyes weren’t darting around. He simply stood tall with a backpack slung over his shoulder.
“...Oh. Kid. You’re awake?”
Joel nodded. “Yeah.”
Huck glanced over Joel’s shoulder to check the time. It was a few more hours till school started. Hell, it was a few more hours till the sun rose over Blackerd’s town hall. He frowned.
“Bit early for school, no?”
Joel nodded. “Yeah.”
The teenager stepped in with wide arms, then hugged Huck. The sheriff flinched, a bit surprised at the approach, but awkwardly reciprocated the hug. The boy’s breathing was steady.
“Just wanted to thank you for everything.”
Before Huck could question or decipher the statement, Joel pulled away. His eyes shined brightly against the kitchen light. The teenager nodded, then stepped to open the front door.
“Heading out now, bye.”
Huck opened his mouth in protest, but Lorraine stopped him. All he could muster was a simple farewell.
“Huh? Oh. Uh… later, kiddo.”
Joel closed the door behind him, and Huck continued to work. He couldn’t believe that boy to be a murderer. That small hug was enough to reinvigorate Huck to find a grand solution. Huck scribbled notes down, until the morning sun slammed into his eyeballs through the front window. The sheriff flinched, and looked outside. Seeing the dawn, he glanced at the clock. It was nearly time for Ally to go to school.
Huck mentally swore, but he got up to rouse the child. She got up groggily, and Huck quickly prepared a simple meal as she washed up. As Ally ate lukewarm wings with half-closed eyes, and Huck quickly grabbed his keys and washed up himself, getting ready to head out. When they left the apartment, Huck’s car wasn’t parked in it’s usual spot. He frowned at Carlos’s location.
Man, I’ve been getting sloppy recently.
Huck dropped Ally off, and then quickly drove back to his apartment to continue brainstorming. However, as he was jingling with his frontdoor keys, he received a call from Aaron. Huck verbally swore, but picked up.
“Hey, Aaron. I thought I had a day left.”
“Hi. Huh? What are you on about?”
Huck wrinkled his brow in confusion. “The…the case with Mr. Giddles? You said I had four days to find a solution. That was three days ago.”
“I don’t know what you’re on about. Are you saying Mr. Giddles pulling away his request wasn’t due to your actions?”
Huck blinked. “Pardon?”
Aaron huffed impatiently on the other end. “Mr. Giddles withdrew his missing person request an hour ago. He said that the issue was resolved, and that… well, I can’t say his exact wording in a professional setting, but he said the missing person was found in his hometown.”
Huck’s blood grew cold. He slowly swallowed, trying to slow the trembling in his face. “I see. Where was he found?”
The mayor sighed. “In Maplewood. So either Mr. Giddles was severely mistaken on where this missing person was, or you found this missing person and sent him to Maplewood. Which is it?”
The sheriff’s mind swarmed with countless questions. Something had happened. Something out of Huck’s control and line of sight. Was Joel kidnapped? Was he extorted? Was there an imposter? What?
Huck needed to call Joel and confirm details. “Sorry Aaron, can I call you back? Something urgent came up.”
“Huh? Wh-”
He hung up, and quickly dialed Joel’s number. Huck’s smartphone rang once, before being answered by an automated message.
“I’m sorry, but the person dialed is not av-”
The sheriff hung up, sweat dribbling down his neck. What was going on? Huck unlocked the front door of his apartment, and ran to the bedroom. The majority of Joel’s belongings were gone, with only a few papers and shirts left behind. Huck stared at the unusually empty bedroom with bewilderment.
M…maybe he’s working with Gus.
Huck punched in The Bottlecap’s phonenumber with trembling fingers, then took a steady breath a he tried to process the new development. After a few rings, Gustavo picked up.
“Yyyello? This is The Bottlecap.”
“Gus, is Joel there?”
There was a slight pause on the line. “Huck? It’s rare for you to call the bar. Whatsup?”
“Is Joel there?”
“Oh. Uh…. no, but he’s scheduled to work tonight. Why? Whatsup?”
Huck’s mind was swarmed with utter confusion and assumptions. “N-no, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
Huck quietly hung up without as much of a goodbye, then typed in Victoria’s phone number. After a few rings, she picked up without saying a word.
“Victoria? You there?”
There was utter silence, then a soft exhale could be heard. “Yeah. Hey, Huck.”
The creeping fear nibbled at Huck’s shoulders. “Do you know where Joel is?”
Silence. Deafening silence. “Hey, Huck? Can you pick me up? I want pizza.”
Victoria didn’t like pizza. The dread began to gnaw at Huck’s neck. “Yeah. Gotcha. I’ll be at Dante’s in twenty.”
...
Upon rolling up, Victoria was quietly sitting in the front lawn wearing her denim jacket over a flowy dress. She was picking at the dead grass, and only looked up when she heard the roar of the brown Lincoln crunch the street gravel. Victoria got up, brushed off her butt, then took slow steps to the shotgun while in deep thought. Normally, she would bounce into Carlos with a big grin, flirting heavily. Today, she silently entered, then stared at her toes. Huck’s mind was racing, frantic and desperate to hear an answer.
“Hey, Vic’. Do you know where Joel is?”
The blond woman rubbed her arms. She gestured with her head in a certain direction, refusing to make eye contact with Huck.
“Hey. Let’s go to the park, first. Dante would kill you if he saw you loitering.”
...
The pair got out and sat underneath a shady tree. The sun peaked out between the leaves, and a calm breeze blew through the grass. Had he not been racked with responsibilities, Huck would have loved to simply lie down and lounge in the area. However, Victoria’s slow movements and pained eyes only worried Huck further, ruining the extravagant day.
Victoria kept rubbing her arms, hesitating. After a few seconds, she looked up and mustered up the courage to look Huck in the eyes.
“Joel returned to his town.”
The air was siezed from Huck’s lungs, and the sheriff had to fight to reclaim a breath. “I’m…I…what? When? Why?”
Victoria bit her lip and looked down at her toes again. “He felt bad and wanted to return. That’s all.”
Huck’s mind was blank. He wasn’t sure what emotion to feel. Confusion? Anger? Sadness? None of these emotions really made sense, yet he felt a swirl of all these emotions. Huck opened his mouth to speak…but what could he say? Should he express his confusion of Joel’s departure? Should he be angry at Victoria for not stopping it, though she most likely could have done and known nothing? Should he cry in a corner, for losing yet another person? It was only after trying to formulate a phrase to speak did Huck realize the emotion that ran through his body.
He felt frustrated. Huck felt as though he had failed. The light in Huck’s eyes died, and his gaze fell to the grass.
“Oh.”
The man and woman both found themselves staring at the grass, each feeling some level of sorrow and frustration. After a few minutes, Victoria spoke softly without lifting her head.
“What are you gonna do now?”
“I don’t know.” Huck responded lifelessly.
The two of them quietly sat for a few minutes, until the silence was broken by Victoria’s ringtone. She pulled out her flip phone, her dry eyes warily reading the text message.
She closed her phone. “I need to go. Dante wants to speak to me in person.”
Huck sat motionlessly as Victoria quietly got up. She patted the dust off her butt, and turned to begin her walk. Before heading off, she hesitated. Huck couldn’t see it, but he could hear Victoria swivel in the grass.
“By the way, you don’t need to worry about the bounty hunters. Joel took care of it, too.”
...
The day passed around Huck as he stewed in failure. After Victoria left, Huck sat still in the park for an hour, before slowly rising and trudging to his car. He returned home, bundled up the papers from the dining room table then laid them out on the living room floor. He grabbed his laptop and placed it on the ground as well. Victoria had texted Huck shortly after she left the park, stating she would pick up Ally after her classes ended and take her to start living in Dante’s house again. While that gave him much needed free time and alone time, it also made the apartment that much more silent.
Huck quietly examined the papers listed on the floor, while looking up information on his laptop. Apart from short restroom breaks, Huck took minimal time to sleep, only sleeping two hours a day. He only drank water from a thermos and refused to eat food, partially because it was too time consuming and partially because he felt as though he didn’t deserve food. During this time, Huck turned off his phone and locked himself inside his apartment.
Huck kept this lifestyle up for six days straight, all while Lorraine begged her husband to rest. Despite her pleas, He refused to stop working until he read the newest headline of Maplewood’s weekly news. After reading the digital newspaper, the exhausted man rubbed his unshaven chin.
Huck was thirsty.
...
The door opened with a familiar chime. As wet footsteps entered the bar, Gustavo looked up in mild surprise. It was noon, and rain was pouring from the heavens. No one in their right mind would enter the bar under these conditions, except….
Huck stood at the entrance, completely disheveled. He wore an oversized grey hoodie and wrinkled jeans. His hair was greasy and his face was unshaven. His eyes and cheeks were sunken. Huck tried to speak, but because he hadn’t spoken in days, his voice cracked. Huck coughed, then tried speaking again.
“Hey, Gus.”
The bartender quietly looked at his friend and put his rag down. Gustavo nodded.
“Hey. Doin’ alright?”
Huck quietly lumbered over to his usual barseat, and climbed in his stool exhausted. After a minute of tense silence, Huck spoke softly with his head down.
“...I want a drink.”
Gustavo pursed his lips, his mustache stretching out slightly. “Cola?”
“You know what I want.”
“Lemonade?”
“...Get me a damn beer.”
Gustavo closed his eyes, then slowly nodded. He reached under the counter, his hand fiddling with something. After a moment, he nodded to the worn out man.
“Gonna have to be bottled, though. Something is wrong with the tap.”
Huck wearily looked up at the tap as Gustavo gestured to the spigot. He turned the handle, and a powerful stream of beer was released before the steady flow turned to a weak spew. Gustavo shrugged.
“I think there’s a pipe blockage, I’ll try to fix it by tonight. You fine with bottled?”
Huck nodded wordlessly, and Gustavo reached under the kitchen counter. He pulled out a Hermes, and placed it on the bar counter. The bartender slapped his apron with exaggeration, and then sighed heavily.
“Ah, beans. Bottle opener is in the back. Gimmie a sec.”
Gustavo retreated to the kitchen, and Huck quietly stared at the bottled beer. He rubbed his thumb over the Greek mascot, read the nutrition label, then slowly spun the bottle on the bar counter. Huck wondered if Lorraine would approve of his decision. Despite her constant pleading the past few days, Lorraine was surprisingly silent as he entered the bar. He wasn’t sure if it was because she was content with his decision, or disappointed. Huck didn’t care. He tried his damndest, and it all amounted to nothing.
Gustavo seemed to be struggling with finding the bottle opener, as he didn’t emerge from the kitchen for a solid twenty minutes. However, that was fine. It gave Huck time to contemplate everything. His role in Blackerd, his murders, Lorraine, Victoria, Joel, and the beer before him. Did he make the right choices in his life? Should he have taken up the role of a glorified executioner? Was there anything he could have done to atone for his failures and shortcomings? Would God forgive him? It was all too much to think about. Huck just wanted to sip a beer, get drunk, then perish.
Suddenly, the front door flung open with a violent chime. Huck slowly looked over his shoulder to see Victoria standing there. She wore a white t-shirt with a jelly stain on the left side, skinny jeans, and flip-flops. As Victoria stood at the entrance, she hunched over with her arms resting on her knees, taking deep breaths while coughing violently. After a few seconds of catching her breath, she looked up with wet hair, frantic eyes, and a wide smile.
“Hey, Huck! Been a hot minute, hasn’t it?”
Upon hearing the commotion, Gustavo came out from the kitchen. The bartender waved at her, while Victoria gave a solid nod in return. Victoria strode over confidently and stood over the bar counter. She peered over Huck’s shoulder and grinned.
“Oh, Hermes! How’d you know I was coming?”
Victoria went to pluck the beer out of sheriff’s hand, but he held on with a firm grip. Victoria looked down with forced confusion, a mildly trembling smile plastered on her face.
“Wanna let go, Huck?”
Huck hung his head low and slowly shook his head. “This ain’t for you, Vic’. Let go.”
Victoria raise an eyebrow. “Oh, a date then? Can’t believe you’re cheating on me, you adulterous bastard!”
“This is my drink. Let go.”
Victoria’s eyes flinched with her smile temporarily fading, but her eyes strengthened and she poked Huck’s gut. He flinched, and Victoria used that moment to snatch the bottle of Hermes away from him. Before Huck could protest, she quickly twisted the top off the Hermes and downed the entire bottle in one go. After twenty seconds of silent chugging, Victoria gasped with a major cough, drops of beer spilling from the now empty bottle.
“...Shit, that wasn’t the brightest idea. Augh, my throat.”
Huck looked up at the mildly watering eyes of Victoria, scowling. “What the hell, Vic’?”
Victoria threw her head back with a triumphant grin. “What the hell, indeed. Who knew I could deepthroat such a mass quantity of liquid?”
Huck grit his teeth, then sighed. “I knew I was wrong about all this.”
Victoria’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What do you mean?”
Huck waved his hand at Victoria and gestured around the bar. “Like… everything I’ve done. The murders. The rehabilitations. I think I was sticking my nose in places it didn’t belong. I can’t protect anyone. I get blamed for things I do and don’t do. What’s the point of it all? I’m just…tired of everything.”
Huck turned back to the bar counter with hunched shoulders. “This was all just a waste of time. Hey, Gus. Get me ano-”
Suddenly, Huck felt a heavy impact slam across his head with a loud crash. He winced, and turned to face the cause of the impact. Huck stared up at the infuriated eyes of Victoria, holding a now shattered beer bottle in her hands. Gustavo quietly left his station to lock the front door and flip the “open” sign to “closed”.
Victoria placed the broken beer bottle on the bar counter, then threw Huck to the ground with her full body weight. Huck, losing balance, fell off his bar stool and slammed into the ground. As he groaned in the pain of falling on small glass shards, Victoria then grabbed his hoodie and half dragged, half threw him against the bar counter’s wall. As Huck’s head slammed into the wall, his vision blurred slightly and a ringing echoed in his ears. While disoriented, Huck felt a weight push into his ribcage. As his eyes adjusted, he saw Victoria kneeling onto his chest with wild eyes and heavy breathing.
There were many reactions Huck could’ve chosen to give in response to Victoria’s violence. He could’ve burst out in a fit of explosive anger. He could’ve began to laugh at the stupidity of it all. He could’ve punched her back.
However, all Huck could do was blink and stammer, “You aren’t allowed to assault a sheriff.”
Victoria snarled and reeled her arm back with a clenched fist. As she threw her entire back into the punch, Huck made no attempts to block as her fist landed squarely in Huck’s cheek. Huck’s head jerked back and Victoria began to slowly massage her wrist with a grimmace. After a few seconds, Victoria grabbed the collar of Huck’s hoodie and yanked it towards her, forcing him to make eye contact.
“Well, I’m sorry sheriff, but with all due respect? Fuck you. You don’t get to quit because life suddenly got hard. You don’t get to waltz in, give me and Ally hope, then suddenly decide that our salvation was a mistake. Piss off with that, the Huck I know would bounce back from any setback. Who the hell are you?”
Huck scowled, struggling to sit up. “What the hell do you know about me, huh? You only know what I’ve shown you. Don’t idolize me in your mind, then suddenly get mad when your hallucinations of me don’t match up reality.”
Victoria rolled her shimmering eyes. “Oh, so everything you’ve shown me was fake? How you pray before every meal? How you rub your neck when you’re nervous and need time to think? How you stay silent because half the time you’re nervous that you’ll say something that’ll be awkward? How you secretly despise the requests everyone makes of you? How you really loved Joel, but worried that keeping him around wou-”
The prostitute coughed, sniffled, then wiped her eyes with her sleeves. The anger left her eyes, with teardrops of sadness and frustration staining her t-shirt sleeves. Victoria climbed off Huck’s chest, and sat on the mildly sticky bar floor. She shakily inhaled, looking up to the ceiling as she did.
“...Damn it, I really liked the kid. I really did.”
Huck leaned his head against the bar counter, dry eyes staring into the abyss. He rubbed his forehead with a dry hand and began to mutter quietly, venting out his sorrows and frustrations.
“I couldn’t…do anything.”
Victoria looked left with slightly red eyes. “Huh?”
Huck slowly shook his head with exasperation. “The kid hid the fact that he was taking refuge in Blackerd. Because of that fact, I can’t do anything. I can’t defend or transfer him without admitting that he had relations in Blackerd. If I admit that, then it makes everything that much worse. I spent the past few days just…looking for a loophole. A flaw. Anything to exploit. There’s nothing. It was between him and the entire damn town, what could I do?”
Huck began to chuckle slowly, his small giggles turning into roaring laughter. “What…hah…what kind of sheriff am I, not being able to protect a kid?”
Huck began to laugh heartily with a mad grin on his face, finding joy in the udder ridiculousness of it all. It was odd. He should have been frustrated, sorrowful, angry. Yet…the more he laughed, the more joy he felt. For the first time in years, he felt liberated. No more responsibilities, no more expectations. It was all over. Finally.
Huck’s joy was so immense that he couldn’t read Victoria’s face. That was fine. What did it matter? Victoria raised her arms, and he mentally prepared himself for another punch. Whatever she did, it was meaningless: nothing could tear Huck down from his pedestal of maddening happiness. Despite that expectation, the maniac’s giggling quickly died out when he felt arms wrap around his shoulders, Victoria’s head just resting on his chest. Huck’s insanity was put on pause, confusion taking it’s place.
Huck felt warm spots form on his chest as she muttered muffled words. “Sorry, Huck. Life sure as hell isn’t easy, right?”
The man sat there, wariness and static overtaking his brain once more. Victoria looked up with red eyes and a small smile. “Thanks, Huck. For…everything. If you really want to stop, you can. You’ve earned rest.”
Huck’s tear ducts had stopped working a long time ago, yet his heart tore all the same. He opened his mouth, but closed it. What…what could he say? What could he do? Should he quit? Should he continue? Was there meaning and purpose in his actions?
As Victoria lay her head on his chest, Huck simply rested on the bar’s floor, ontop of broken glass and sticky dirt. All the broken man could think was how Lorraine never struggled like he did. Lorraine wouldn’t hesitate. Lorraine would laugh and double her efforts, no matter the task. Lorraine wou-
Huck felt a hearty smack across the back of his head. “Dumbass. You aren’t me. Do what you can. Do what you want. Whatever you choose, I’ll be there.”
Huck took a deep inhale, and sighed. “I…I need a nap. I’m tired.”
After muttering that statement, Huck promptly passed out.
28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIpx4TuXbBF
