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i've been having to put much time into a project.... so my writing has slacked.
i plan to hit it again hard. but here is a tiny, tiny bit i did today
On his way to Cheyenne’s he wondered why Wil had said she was dead.
There had to be an explanation.
He wondered if Wil had any reason to mess with Z’s head. That’s just it. He owes me his life and he knows it. He knows I’m with him so why would he fuck with me?
That line of thought simply made no sense.
A mistake. It had to have been a simple joke. Nothing more, nothing less. If he turns, I will kill him.
Z pulled up to Cheyenne’s house in a very uneasy state of mind. The semi long ride had given him time to think.
But the thoughts seemed to be in vain.
He would never betray me. Not Wil. Never!
He got out of the care and made himself breathe. He had been thinking so hard he had forgotten common sense and quit watching his step. He almost walked straight into a small flower garden; a crime to Cheyenne as big as murdering puppies to Cliff.
He made himself breathe again and went to the door, stopped, turned around and walked away. There was an old rocking chair on the corner of the porch. The nurses loved to take a break and use it. It was comfortable. He sat thinking absolutely nothing for five or six minutes before thinking he was cool enough to continue.
He stood, stretched, and knocked on the door. Mike opened the door and motioned Cliff in. Were he not at a place he knew personally he would had thought this was Mike’s own home. Cliff reluctantly agreed that Mike was a good man and doing a good job.
Once inside the house everything seemed right, but something was wrong.
Something.. missing.
Keep it together, Cliff. Concentrate on things of importance.
Realizing the oddness he was sure to be portraying he
apologized and reassured Mike with what looked like honest concern that all was okay.
“Ready?”
“I cannot answer that truthfully, but take me anyway.”
Cheyenne’s face was pale and bruised. She looked like someone had beaten her very severely. She was asleep.
“So what happened to her?” Cliff asked, taking a look at Cheyenne’s drips and such. He knew Mike was a good nurse. But whoa cared in the end? It was his sister.
“We went to a local park and just strolled the area; she loves those peacocks! We didn’t do anything out of the ordinary, as you know, we take her often. We went, we watched the kiddos play and the animals in their cages and then left. On the way back here we were slammed from behind. It looked like a diesel with no trailor.”
Cliff could hardly sit still long enough to let Mike get his bearing and breath, but God it was difficult to sit at all. Finally Mike composed himself and continued.
“Well the diesel backed off a bit and I went to pull over at a gas station figuring the dipshit driving had slipped up.” Mike shook with nervousness. He fucking better be nervous, Cliff thought. “The diesel followed us. I guess my brain was not working very well because I got out of the car to comfront whoever the driver was. It wasn’t just one man, Cliff.” He spoke as if afraid mike himself would hurt him. That was just absurd. He wouldn’t hurt Mike. Or.. he didn’t want to hurt Mike.
“Three guys jumped out, one slammed an aluminum baseball bat into my stomach and chest. I hit the ground unable to breathe and the thugs beat your sister.” Mike’s face contorted, yet he kept his composure. “They just beat her… she was screaming. Nobody helped. People saw, they just didn’t intend to help. They were scared, I guess.”
“I cussed them. They weren’t black but I called them niggers, then faggot and every offensive thing I could think of. I wanted to make them angry enough to beat me instead, but these guys were smart. They knew what to do and what not to do.”
What not to do, Cliff thought.
Mike spoke again. “There was no words spoke, no sexual anything, no sloppiness at all. These guys didn’t slip up once. They just.. hurt her. I managed to stand up and the thugs were already back in the truck. It rolled my way and the driver told me out the window that I should tell Cliff to “fuck off” with his vigilante thing, whatever the fuck that means, and to take Cheyenne’s slap as a warning.”
Cliff could had been offered five million bucks if his face could remain that smooth. He didn’t give any idea of surprise towards the fact of beign a vigilante or anything else. He made the face of a person who died in their sleep look scared. His face was carved.
“So,” spoke Cliff “we have no fucking idea who did this or anything else.”
Mike stated blankly, “except ‘stop it’.”
Cliff simply nodded. He wasn’t going to say a fucking word he didn’t plan on saying. This was completely out of the blue. Who the hell knew he was a vigilante? Hell, he didn’t know he was a vigilante, he just. . . was.
“I’m going to sleep here tonight with her. When does Sarah come in?”
Mike blushed and spoke, “I told Sarah to stay home. I wanted to stay.”
Cliff just nodded as if he knew it made sense.
“Do you drink, Cliff?”
“Only on special occasions. I like my mind to be crisp. But go ahead.”
“Um. What um.” Mike sighed to himself. “what about. Um. –“
Cliff neither laughed or smiled. “Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em.”
Mike nodded, and pulled a joint out and walked out the back door.
Cliff knew Mike had to be quite freaked out. His composure was hanging by a thread. By a hair
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