by Mitch Goth
On Nate’s request, Bobby dropped the three of them off at the park in the center of town before making his trip to the gun store. Nate desperately needed to think, and the large fountain in the middle of the park was where he always went to do it.
“What the fuck are we gonna do?” Nate paced around anxiously as Mike and Taylor sat on the edge of the fountain and watched him go.
“Why don’t you sit down and we can figure this out,” Taylor suggested.
“No time to sit, we need to act, we need to do something.”
“Nate, seriously, slow down a little bit,” Mike mirrored Taylor’s thought with more assertion.
“How can you say that? Your sister is out there.”
“I know that, that’s why I’m choosing the more constructive route here. We need to stay calm and figure all this out with level heads.”
“We’re all freaking out,” Taylor added in, “but we’re just keeping it together.”
“Well, since you’re so kept together, what do you suppose we do?” Nate questioned condescendingly, “Should we travel all around town searching through every old building or garage looking for Cady and Cera? Should we just roll really slowly down the streets and yell their names out the window in hopes of getting a response?”
“That’s what I was planning on doing,” Mike admitted.
“That’s reassuring coming from the person who came up with the idea to not call the police.”
“What do you suggest we do?” Taylor wondered.
“I don’t know,” Nate shrugged in frustration.
“See, because you’re so high strung and stressed out you’re failing to plan ahead.”
“Well, thank you Mrs. President, you really do have all the answers, don’t you. Why don’t you voice your opinion on the ‘what should we do next’ issue?”
“I think we ought to wait for Bobby to get back so we can get his reading on the matter.”
“Wait for Bobby? You want us to wait for Bobby? I don’t think we really have a lot of time to just sit around and wait for Bobby!”
“Who’s waiting?” Bobby appeared through the darkness, holding the gun and a bag of supplies from the gun shop.
“Did you get everything we need?” Mike asked.
“Mostly,” Bobby sat down next to them and began pulling things out of the bag, “the gun shop didn’t sell any individual shot for a gun like this, so I had to go to the hardware store and get a bunch of ball bearings,” he began pouring powder down the barrel.
“Do you know how much powder it needs?” Taylor asked.
“I was hoping it would be like a Solo cup, that there’d be lines on the inside to tell me where to stop.”
“Is there?”
“Not even a little one. I guess I just need to guestimate.”
Taylor slid herself a few feet further away from Bobby.
“So, Bobby,” Nate spoke up, “what do you suggest we do next?”
“About what?”
“About finding Cady and Cera.”
“I was thinking we could just drive around town for a while and yell their names out the window like people do when they’re looking for a dog.”
“Jesus Christ,” Nate rubbed his forehead.
“I’m joking with you, bro. Do you have any idea where they might be, even a little thought?”
“Well we got a call from Cera, and she said they were pulling into a building or something based on the sounds, but she couldn’t tell where.”
“Did you hear a garage door?”
“What?”
“On the phone, did you hear a garage door opening or closing? Those things can be pretty loud.”
“I don’t remember,” Nate shook his head. “Guys?”
“I didn’t hear anything,” Taylor added.
Mike shook his head.
“Well, from that we can probably assume that it isn’t some kind of storage space. Maybe a barn or an old industrial building with a lot of echoing spaces for a car to fit into, all it really takes for a car to sound like it’s in a garage is for it to go into a covered parking stall or something.”
“That’s good thinking,” Taylor complimented him with a smile. “Isn’t it great thinking, Nate?”
“I suppose,” Nate rolled his eyes. “But where do we find a place like that?”
“Just past downtown there’s a whole bunch of old factories and buildings like that, we could try there,” Mike suggested.
“What do we do once we’re there?” Nate wondered.
“Yell out the windows,” Mike replied.
“Seconded,” Bobby concurred as he packed down the ball bearings with the ramrod.
“You can’t be serious,” Nate said.
“What do you suppose we do?” Bobby cocked the hammer back and put a cap into place. “Go in to every building, single shot muzzle loader blazing?”
“That’s another thing, how do we know that two hundred year old gun even works?”
“Have a little faith,” Bobby set the gun across his lap, “it may be old but it’s a well built machine.”
“Have you ever seen it work?” Taylor asked, she too was becoming skeptical at the gun’s ability to fire now that she’d thought about it.
“No, actually,” Bobby responded with a small shrug.
“So we maybe just have a gun-shaped club on our hands?” Nate began pacing again.
“Guys, it works, I’m sure.”
“How can you be so sure if you’ve never fired it?”
“Faith, man,” Bobby slapped his hands down on his lap. The hammer came down and popped the cap. In a split moment, smoke and sparks billowed out of the muzzle, an ear shattering crack shook the air around them and a small handful of ball bearings kicked a torrent of water their way as the projectiles sailed faster than sound into the fountain.
“Well, there you have it,” Mike said loudly to cope with everyone’s ringing ears.
“Alright,” Nate sighed, “I’ll give you that. What now?”
“Can I make a suggestion?” Bobby asked.
“Go ahead,” Nate gave him the floor.
“I say we should probably get the hell out of here fast seeing as this gun just woke up everybody in a mile radius of here.”
“I agree,” Taylor agreed, still shaking from the surprise of the blast.
“Okay,” Nate said, “let’s take a trip just past downtown.”
4
