by mike Evans
“Shit, Zeke wouldn’t ever be caught dead in here. He was too good for my fine establishment. You’d think anyone was good enough for a cold beer on tap.”
Laughlin took a long pull off his pint, looking around the bar before spotting the group that he needed to talk with. “Why don’t you go on out and have a smoke, Duffy, could you do that for me?”
“You know I don’t give two shits who you talk to in this town. There aren’t many people lower than those guys over there, but if you’d like to try to pretend that it is a secret, then you just be my guest.”
“I’d appreciate it. I'm sure after I’ve been sheriff for long enough, that I won’t be too worried about you vacating while I conduct business.”
“Far be it from me to tell you about life, Sheriff, but I'm sure if that is the kind of shit you want to do to make out your retirement fund, there’s a damn strong chance there are far better and smarter men that you could have your dealings with.”
“Well, if it wasn’t for family, there’d be no reason to do so. My sister can’t help who she loves, and it isn’t my job to tell her anything different. You can’t take off the shutters of love from someone’s eyes, now, can you?”
“Nope, can’t say as I can disagree with you, Sheriff. I’ll be out front; if you need anything just come on out or help yourself. Can’t see as it’s going to matter much if I serve you or you get it yourself.”
“Seems fair. I’ll let you know if I need anything. Thanks again. Be on your way; this won’t take too long.”
Duffy pulled a bottle of Coke from the fridge. He had found the best way to give up a vice was trading it for another. He knew he’d go broke if he needed to try to survive without drinking his profits away anyways, if he was still nursing the bottle like he’d used to. When the brightness from the door disappeared, it took with it the haze from the cigarette smoke floating still in the air. Laughlin carried his beer over, pulling a seat from another table, and knocked off what appeared to be smashed peanut shells.
His brother-in-law Ramsey leaned forward with his chair in front of him, smiling ear to ear. “Well, congratulations there, Sheriff Laughlin. It seems that you were the chosen man to set this city right and take away all the ills that are running rampant in the street.”
“You best be careful there, Ramsey. You are bound to end up with shit on your boots with as deep as it is getting in here.”
Ramsey held his hand to his chest, acting as if he was offended. “You know that I have nothing but the upmost respect for the fine men and women in law enforcement. Why without them, I wouldn’t be able to conduct nearly the amount of business that I can. Fine fellows like you taking the riff-raff off of the streets has not only cleaned up the streets, but helped pay for your favorite niece’s braces and piano lessons.”
“Just keep the bribe information to yourself, or you are going to get me taken in before I ever get to take over office. Zeke would throw about fifteen different kinds of shit fits if he found out that I was on the take. That old fucker doesn’t seem too worried right now, so long as he gets to retire and head out of town in peace. Hell, you’d think that after this many years in service that he’d want to stay around town and enjoy himself for a while, but nope, that son of a bitch has a retirement place in the woods of Minnesota all planned out, and he already has his house on the market. It’s almost like he has something he’s rushing towards.”
“Yeah, that or away from,” said Ramsey. “So, can we talk business now that we’ve established how good of a God-fearing American you are, Sheriff Laughlin?”
“I have a hard time seeing what Sharon ever saw in you, Ramsey.”
“Must’ve been my big cock she couldn’t help but love. Oh wait, shit, that wasn’t too much information for you, now, was it, brother-in-law?”
“No, that was the perfect amount of information. How’d you know that my lunch was so good that I wanted to taste it twice?”
“It’s a gift. Now, Duffy is only gonna stay out there for so long, so why don’t we get chatting about our expansion project please?” Ramsey said. “We were thinking we could have the North Woods. Zeke’s had that fucker closed off for as long as I can remember. Since I was probably five or ten, we stopped being able to hunt, hike, and anything else fun in those woods. Zeke took over drug control of this area and got rid of everyone. Hell, there were people I worked for as a teen who disappeared in the middle of the night. Of course, their friends could never come and say anything about them going missing, because they are no good pieces of shit and what they were doing was illegal in the first place.”
“So, you boys think that you can make something of it out there?”
Ramsey smiled, taking a long drink from his beer. “I think that with all the fresh water running through there that we could set up shop and triple our production, and maybe even do some moonshine on the side.”
“You’re fucking kidding, right, Ramsey? Moonshine, really? I thought you liked making money. Crystal is going to be worth twenty times that much. I’d rather put bricks of hundreds away than rolls of hundreds. What are you trying to do, get caught for chump change? It isn’t The Dukes of Hazzard up here. You boys cook—or maybe you don’t, and someone else comes up here and does it for you. I take my place as sheriff in three weeks. Zeke’s going to be out of dodge right after that, and the rest of the boys in my area have no interest in coming up to the North Woods. There’s enough rumors of ghosts wandering the woods and snatching those that enter.”
Ramsey smiled, pulling out a forty-four caliber revolver with an eight-inch barrel on it. “I don’t believe in ghosts, but I assure you, if I find something else out there, I’ll be more than happy to take care of it. I ask that you keep the woods closed, so the boys and I can just move on into them, happy as shit.”
The man who sat next to Ramsey, Schmidt said, “So, we got your blessing to do whatever we want in them woods, Sheriff?”
“Would I be here if I just wanted you doing the same old shit that you always have been doing?” Laughlin asked.
Schmidt shrugged. “I don’t know, but it just seems like this is too good to be true. How sure are you that the cops will stay out of our way?”
“Look, you cook it here, you package it up, and you ship it the fuck out of here. This town goes dry as soon as I start up shop.”
“What about the tweakers? They are going to get hungry for it. You don’t want to see people wanting stuff like that, it isn’t pretty,” said Schmidt.
“I know what it looks like; I’ve been a cop longer than you’ve been a cook. I want them out of this city. I want you guys to behave yourselves. If you can handle that, then you’ll have more money than you can spend. We do this for a few sheriff’s terms, and we will all be loaded. The townspeople will vote me in time after time if it means that there isn’t any crime in town. We get rid of the drugs and within a few months, they are going to try to get it somewhere else.”
“You want to lose all that money?” Schmidt asked.
A hand came from nowhere and the thud echoed across the barroom floor. Ramsey said, “If we hadn’t already talked about it, you wouldn’t be sitting here listening to it, dumb shit! Now you shut the fuck up, you’re making my damn head hurt. Go get another round of beers. Do it now. We got some other shit to talk about and we aren’t done yet. You need to mind your own and do what we tell you to do. You haven’t been around as long as most of us, and you haven’t put the work into it like we have. You coming in early management on this shit, you could see the stars if you don’t give up.”
Schmidt wanted to say something but the thud from the back of his head was throbbing, and he knew that if he continued, it was only going to get worse for him. He took the empty glasses, walking to the bar. Ramsey waited until he was gone, and Laughlin and the other two men leaned in. “So we do this, where are we going to put these junkies while they decide to get out of town? They’ll be strung out everywhere. Is that what you want to do on your first month in off
ice?”
“We give them rides out of town then, Ramsey. You aren’t part of the system; you can take whomever the hell you want out of town. But you get out of the shithole that you are in and get it set up. We want fresh batches just as soon as you can. Anything comes up with setup, then I want you to let me know.”
The man who sat on the opposite side of the table from Ramsey, James laughed and said, “You just want us to pack them up and take them to another town?”
Laughlin looked at him and there wasn’t any joking around with his stern gaze. “You got any reasons about why that shouldn't be done?”
James thought about it, shook his head, and motioned for Lang—the last man at the table—to follow him. They weren’t high enough on the totem pole to stick around either. The two men left sat there, going over money and some of the finer details. When they had everything hashed out, they did a celebratory shot and Laughlin headed back out of the bar.
Chapter 10
Two weeks after election
Matt got out of bed, stretched, and saw his dad was still sleeping. He woke up each morning and did push-ups until he could barely feel his arms. He’d found the more energy he used, the less rage he’d have going through him. If he kept himself busy, he kept himself alive. He had not gone out of his way to quit killing, but he had been able to manage to only take animals. He’d been in charge of the hunting and collecting of every animal he could get his hands on.
Matt’s skills with the bow had only gotten better. He had a serious conversation with Zeke, and after promising him that he would stay in the woods, Zeke had made a promise of his own that he would do everything he could to keep any people from straying into the woods. Zeke had given his blessing that the two of them would be able to stay there safely going forward, so long as they held up their end of the bargain.
Matt started the tea kettle to heat water so that they could begin a pot of coffee. Paul heard the creak of the old cabin floor. He stayed quiet, watching his son make his way across the cabin. He’d thought for years that at some point he was going to pass, and that there would not be anyone left to protect him from himself. When Matt came back to get clothes, his dad thought about the world having to deal with Matt again. He’d been in the woods for so long now, getting to kill animals as he wished, that he wasn’t sure what would happen to his only son if he was able to have his way in a city. He was curious if he could do anything to help him, to keep him from killing the first people he saw. He looked at the muscles on Matt and knew that he’d lost every ounce of fat that he had brought with him five years ago. Paul watched the clock on the fireplace mantel.
“You going to go soon, Matt?” he asked.
“Yeah, just going to drink some coffee and have a steak.”
“You know you can eat more than just meat, right?”
“It’s the most realistic thing that keeps me going. The hope that one day I’ll be able to leave and I will be able to control this.”
“I thought you were under control; it’s been years since you’ve been able to kill someone. If that isn’t successful, then I don’t know what that is.”
“It’s kind of like putting a rapist on a deserted island and then saying, ‘you are getting better,’ when they don’t have any real viable options, Dad. If you knew how many animals I’ve maimed and strangled with my bare hands, you might hold onto your congratulations. This isn’t dirt under my nails; it's blood that is forever ground under them. It's as good as the fake high that people coming off heroin are given. I’m sure there’s something that people miss about putting their belt around their bicep; or that extra high they get, having to worry about someone catching them make the buy. Then they have to find the place to shoot up and get that vein just right. The one that you know is going to make you float away. Well, for me it is the eyes that I miss; the rapid heartbeat in their chests, the look of fear on their faces… The animals don’t understand it. They don’t know what is happening, they only know that it hurts. They scream, but they don’t plead like I want. It’s very special when they pray to die.”
“For me the death was enough,” said Paul. “The suffering, the pain, and the torture were never things that I needed to make myself happy, to make it feel better. Don’t miss out on life because of your thirst. Once you go back—if you go back—you’ll need to be able to survive and not lose your mind because of the lack of killing. Unless you can figure out a full proof way to not get caught—which, let’s face it, as of now has not been the case—then you can’t start, even as much as you might want to.”
“You aren’t going to kick the bucket today, are you, Dad?”
Paul got up out of bed. His knees and back had arthritis, and he could feel it every day he lived in the woods. “This living isn’t easy on someone my age. And no, you aren’t getting rid of me just yet. But you aren’t going to have me forever, I’m sure you are well aware of that.”
“I like living out here, but again, I do miss it. I’ll skip the steak; just save me one if you cook something. Zeke never likes it when we are late to arrive.”
Paul nodded. “See you later, Son.”
Matt grabbed his belt that he kept his favorites on and slid on his arrows. He poured a large cup of black coffee and headed out the door. “I’ll be back by tonight. See how much good shit Zeke brought us this time.”
Chapter 11
Matt hiked the few hours until he was near the road and found his spot. He waited patiently until Zeke’s old truck pulled up. He saw how much was in the back and walked up slowly, questioning as to what was going on. Zeke got out of the truck. He, like his dad, had grown much older over the years, and his body and looks showed for it, as did his speed.
“Morning, Zeke. Moving slow this morning.”
Zeke nodded walking forward and pulling the tarp back off the truck. “I move slow every morning, Matt. Some days I just wish that it was over, but then I wouldn’t get to enjoy retirement.”
“You're not retiring anytime soon, now are you?”
Zeke was actually very worried about the news he needed to tell him. “I wasn’t planning on retiring anytime soon, but the people seemed to disagree with me.”
He knew how important Zeke was for bringing them the things that they needed which nature could not provide. “So, what does that mean? Did you get voted out of office?”
“I didn’t want to. I would have done this job for the rest of my life if I could have, but this little cockfuck, Deputy Laughlin, that I’ve had for as long as you’ve roamed these woods, has now decided that it was his time to take care of things. So I’m done next week. I wanted to let you know, but it isn’t like my old knees wanted to take that hike. All I would have done was ended up dead halfway there. My old body can’t take this shit. But I’m here to tell you now. I could’ve just left, but I wanted to try to do right by you and your pops. I want you guys to stay here, if it is something you think will help. I don’t want you two raising hell in the country, if it can be stopped. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.”
Matt looked in the rear of the truck, seeing he’d brought three times the normal amount; each trip was usually good for two months. “Well, you’ve definitely made an effort to be able to help us sustain ourselves. Can I assume there is no one you know or trust that would do what you do for us? I’d be happy to take on anyone new, if that was what it came down to. My dad likes it here. I’ve, for the most part, been able to fight the hunger. But if we have to venture outside of these woods, I don’t know what exactly I could do to refrain from my old ways. I don’t know if I’d want to stop once I began again, either.”
“I hope that for your sake, and the sake of all the people, that you can. There’s nothing I can do once I leave my office in the hands of the people's choice, but you be careful. I know damn well that Laughlin is not as innocent and upstanding as he makes himself out to be. He’s up to some shit, and everyone knows that the city is full of corruption. I’ve done all I can over the years, but when
the corruption is making its way from the inside out, there is only so much that you are able to do.”
Matt held out a hand, smiling. “Well, let me thank you on behalf of my dad and myself. We truly appreciate everything that you’ve done for us over the years. I really do mean that; we never would have made it this long, and like you say, there’s a fair chance I definitely would have not been able to hold it on the inside for this long.”
“Well, just do me a favor and stay out of Minnesota if you do decide to go back into society.”
Matt got everything out of the truck and took it out of sight of the road. “Minnesota isn’t on my radar, Zeke. Again, I appreciate what you’ve done for us. You better get going now; you not having a sense of purpose for us doesn’t do a lot of good for me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It means that I could cut your head off right now, Zeke, and sleep like a baby.”
Zeke pulled his heavy coat to the side, showing off a revolver. He’d been the only one on the force to not go after the Glocks when they were first made available to the police departments throughout America. When given the choice to switch or keep his old faithful, he decided to keep his revolver.
