* * *
Gil knew something was off with the world for a little bit now, but he put it aside. Something was always off somewhere and he couldn’t take responsibility for all of it. Instead, he’d just keep on trying to figure out why the stupid trebuchet wouldn’t work right. “So for some reason, no matter what adjustments I make, the thing won’t hit that one stupid model. I’m pretty much done with the whole campaign at this point.”
Kurtz shook his head slowly and stared that intense stare. Gil looked away for a moment and caught his little moose sentry giving him the same stare. Et tu, Moose? Et tu? Back to Kurtz, who had this strange little smile on his face. Something Gil hadn’t seen in a very long time, since before the attack in any case. Since then, his friend had not been what one might call inclined towards levity.
“What is it, Will?”
“I scratched him today. He is wounded. He can be wounded.” Kurtz looked back towards the broken old model that stood despite Gil’s best efforts. “‘Tis time, Gil. I know ‘tis time.” For some reason, Kurtz almost looked sane.
“Are you sure? I’ve never seen so much as a chip off that thing.”
“I am certain, Gil. So….I need to make a request of thee.” Here it comes.
“Of course.” And…
“Could you see fit to travel to another domain this evening?” There it was. Kurtz understood Gil’s luck and wanted it nowhere near the bridge tonight if there was even a possibility that it was somehow vulnerable. As much as Gil would love to be there to see it go down, he also knew that he would definitely prove a liability for his friendly knight.
“As you wish, Sir William.” He bowed a little towards his friend just as State Trooper Jennifer Julia Kennisaw graced his store with her presence. He was about to make a snide comment to her, just something playful enough to get a rise, but then he saw her eyes. Something there that wasn’t normally there. Sadness? Pain. The worst. “Dad?” The word slipped from his mouth and he knew.
She nodded and he knew if she had to say anything her careful mask would crack even more than it already had.
“Jen…how?” But he knew. Dad drove too fast. “Dad drove too fast?”
She nodded again. “He’s just down the road if…you…want…”
He went to her and held her not because he needed it but because she did. If there was one person who loved his father without question, it was Jennifer. His father reciprocated in his own way. There was certainly more of a bond between them than there ever was with Gil. All they had together was their obsessions with Stansbury’s curse. Beyond that, they had barely spoken about much since Gil got back from Alaska. “It’s okay, Jen. I don’t need to see. It wouldn’t do him or me any good.”
He always had issues with the old man and knew that at some point the speed would get him. He told his father on more than one occasion that the speed would get him but his dad would always repeat his little mantra, “A good car wants to go 80. Who am I to keep it from what it wants?” And then he would laugh at himself because he knew what an idiot he was. It was like he was chasing Gil’s mother and hoping that one day he would find her on the road somewhere.
“I hope he found her.” Gil smiled a little at the thought. It was a good thought and he would keep it.
“Who?” He looked up at Jen.
“Mom.”
“Oh. Okay then.” She signaled that the hug was over and he let her go. “Well…Gil. Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you, okay?”
“How about date sometime?” He tried to laugh but it hurt a little too much.
She tried to laugh as well, but it didn’t come out right. “Um, I don’t think so, Gil. I’ll go and let Shelley know.” And she left and she wasn’t quite as sad and neither was he.
“I am very sorry to hear of your father’s death, Gil. He was always good to me.” Kurtz. Gil turned back to the knight and saw his old friend for the first time in a long time. There was Will, crying those tears that hadn’t come to Gil yet. Gil didn’t know if they would ever come that way. Maybe it hadn’t sunk in yet or maybe he spent so long waiting for it to come that now that it was real, that his dad was gone…it just felt so damned inevitable that Gil wanted to scream at the universe that good people like his father should have better lives and quieter deaths. For all of the good his father seemingly did, did he really do anything other than maintain the town? Did he make it better or did he just keep it from getting worse? Did he even do that? The town always seemed to do a pretty damned good job of keeping itself together even before his dad came along to stand his watch. People felt better maybe when he was in charge, but what did that really matter in the end when tragedy would keep hitting and then people would keep moving on with their lives. So old Sheriff Ben had gone and quit and left the town watch to Tom because he knew that in the end it didn’t matter who watched the little things come and go. The big things kept on happening and he thought that he could change that. But he couldn’t. It wasn’t in him and he knew it and he kept on driving like a bat out of hell maybe hoping that he would crash and die and not have to be so damned responsible for everyone and everything. He did this to himself and Gil couldn’t cry for him just yet even though his crazy delusional friend could stop being crazy and delusional for a moment to feel the death and mourn it.
“Yeah, Will. I’m sorry, too.” Was he?
Will left the building and there was the knight again. “Your father was an excellent constable and he will be missed. He would also understand that the enemy is at hand and he is weakened and it is time to strike. When I go into battle tonight, I will carry a token of his to deliver to the dread lord. I am sorry to repeat the request after this news, but the chances for success still depend upon you not being here.”
Of course. “As you wish, Sir William. I think I’ll close up shop and get the hell out of dodge right now. Can’t say if I’ll be back anytime soon, you know?”
“You must wander as you will. You have my thanks.” And with that, Kurtz turned and left the shop, walking with a purpose that Gil found admirable considering that it was a doomed quest. Even if the bridge was damaged or destroyed or nothing happened at all, it would all still just keep on happening and happening. At this moment, Gil didn’t have a bit of romantic thought in him. It had been spent at 80 miles per hour and then a stop too soon.
Gil opened the register and took what little money was there. Enough to gas up the tank a couple of times and maybe spend some time in Buffalo or Albany making some more and moving on from there. Whatever. As much as he loved Stansbury, he couldn’t stay right now, the way he always had to go away for a time because all that love just made the pain of knowing everything he knew all that much worse. It wasn’t going to stop. It wasn’t going to stop. It wasn’t going to stop. He knew this at the core of his being and he knew the signs that something bad was coming and he didn’t want to be there when it did. It could go and get horrible without his witnessing it and recording it in his book of all the shitty things that had happened to Stansbury. He didn’t even take a second look at the messed up bridge. He just grabbed his keys and left, leaving that little sign in the window that let people know the shop wouldn’t be open to sell apple cider donuts and maple syrup that day, locking the door and not looking back.
Lakebridge: Spring (Supernatural Horror Literary Fiction) Page 40
