The Tin Cowboy

[FoJaR]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

he slid down in his seat!

[MalReynolds]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

I didn’t end up eating anything at Franco’s, despite my hunger and how good the food appeared. I was somewhat uneasy, my stomach doing summersaults every few minutes when I thought about the Journalism professor. Despite their urging, I couldn’t bring myself to ingest any food.

Benny and Ollie talked back and forth for a few minutes, discussing the various improvements that could be made to Westing, including the removal of the Night Scan. They both seemed to have a very good handle on the situation and what to do about it. Benny took the check when it came and left a hefty tip – or the lunch was much more expensive than I thought. Regardless, he shook my hand once again, said thank you, and left ahead of us.

“So, what’re you going to do, kid?” Ollie asked as we walked out of the restaurant.

“About what?”

“Well, why’d you come to Westing in the first place?”

We stopped next to the car. He leaned against it, pulled out a cigarette and went to light it. He had a nice match box made of silver that glinted in the sun as he removed a strike anywhere and struck it against the chipping paint of his car.

“I don’t know. Drifting, I guess.”

“You’re a vagrant then, kid?”

“I don’t think I am.”

“Well… I guess. So, where to? Head back to the school?”

I nodded and Ollie walked to the passenger side of the car, opening the door. When I tried to get in, he stopped me.

“You’re driving, kid.”

“What? I don’t know how to drive stick.”

“Life, kid, is a series of choices. Choices you make, choices other people make. What’s it in life all you do is sit around and wait for other people to make their own choices? Now I’m making a choice for you,” he said, throwing the keys. “Don’t get us killed, okay?”

I sighed. “Sure thing.”

The bucket seat seemed to curve to the shape of my back as I slid in, taking the key and shoving it nervously in the ignition.

What was it? Clutch, shift, gas? Shift, clutch, gas? Gas, shift, clutch? No… Not that last one.

I braced myself and tried to shift into first. The car nosed into the street and then stalled, much to the chagrin of the man I had decided to cut off.

After a few more trial and error tries, I managed to get the car into first gear without running into anything or stalling the car. We moved down the street, cruising at a very low speed with a parade of people honking behind me, making me jump.

“Ah, don’t worry about it, kid. Just imagine they’re congratulating you on a job well done… Be that as it may, you may want to pop it into second gear.”

Clutch, shift, gas, stall.

Dammit.

I wasn’t weaving in and out of the traffic as Ollie had, rather the traffic was trying to weave its way in and out from me. Lunch had taken most of the afternoon, and now the night sky was taking most of the sun. I turned the headlights on and recognized a few familiar buildings as the road began to thin out and the buildings began to grow smaller. Soon enough, I could see the AIP building looming in the distance.

When we turned off back onto Main, Ollie told me to stop the car up the road.

“Nothing against you or anything,” he said. “I just have a few enemies at the moment, kid, and don’t want to be seen around the college.”

I nodded and shut the car off.

When we got out to switch places, there was a frantic scramble as we both realized at the same time that I had forgotten to put the emergency brake on. After a few minutes of holding the car in place while Ollie dove inside, the car came to a halt. My arms were shaking from holding onto the door. Ollie threw his hand out the window and gave me the okay sign to let go. I did, and the car did not move.

“Class act, kid,” he said, climbing out and huffing.

We stood for a few seconds, looking out at the ocean. The stars in the sky were barely visible through the haze of pollution and city lights.

“I guess this is it, then,” I said.

“Probably.”

“Well… okay,” I said, extending my arm. Ollie took my hand and shook it vigorously.

“No offense, kid, but I hope I don’t have to see you again,” he said, smiling. The ten years of worry and experience disappeared from his face when he smiled and I was reminded that he couldn’t have been more than five years older than me. When he stopped, he gained his age back, his face once again world weary and covered with worry lines.

I turned and walked away. It was a few seconds before I came up with anything clever to say, but when I turned around to say it, Ollie was gone. The car was gone, as well, and I never even heard it start.

“Well,” I said to myself, “You drove through Westing in first gear.”

I smiled all the way back to the school.

-

There was a large grouping of students milling around the front door, waiting to get in. I stood in line, watching as the line grew smaller. People were walking back and forth, some of them leaving the line and wandering off. I was confused at first, but when I stepped inside the building, I found my answer. There was a man standing on the stairs that went to the main dormitory with a megaphone. Tinsley was no longer seated, rather, she was standing next to the man, her station empty.

“I repeat, guest passes are no longer valid,” he echoed into the megaphone. “Guest passes are no longer valid. If you are not a student, please vacate the premises. The police will be called if you do not vacate immediately.”

I paused, reaching into my pocket and removing the tiny card. I walked up to the man.

“What’s going on?”

He didn’t bother taking the megaphone away from his mouth to answer me.

“Once again, due to new regulations, guest passes are no longer valid.”

New regulations?

Benny?

Come on, now.

“I know the new dean,” I said to the man. “We’re friends.”

“You and everyone else,” his voice amplified and hurt my ears.

Before I could say anything else, I was lost to the throng of people trying to get inside. The regular students that wanted insurance that they would not have to spend the night on the street and the brave entrepreneurs who had sold vagrants their guest passes that were no longer valid. It was a move of protection and cowardice at the same time, watching the actual students run into the building.

I shuddered. My tennis bag was inside the Guest Dorm, the last semblance of any former life I had. And a ton of money.

I tried to brush past the man, but he cracked me over the head with the megaphone. There was a ringing in my ears, and I stumbled backwards, clutching the top of my head. I pulled my hand away and looked at a tiny amount of blood on my fingertips.

I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, counting to ten before opening them. The room had stopped swimming at this point.

There was nothing else to do. The police would be here in a few minutes to arrest anyone loitering that wasn’t a student.

So, that was it. I walked out of Westing, into the snowy night.

I never turned back, never looked behind me. I shoved my hands in my pockets, trying to keep warm. I thought of my jacket back on that godforsaken rock of an Island, and was reminded again of the wool that had been pulled over my eyes by whoever it really was out there in that smart blazer.

Having no other place to go, I wandered out of the city. The vagrants and users were out in great force during the night and I could see why staying on the street was a more fearful prospect than most. They were standing at the mouths of alleyways and I could see them easily grabbing someone who was just walking by, dragging them kicking and screaming down into the forbidden zones between the buildings all while two watchmen just stood and made sure no one followed the screams.

I was relieved when the buildings thinned out. More relieved when the Chapel came into view. I moved quickly through the creaky front gate to the door, where I took no hesitation and began knocking immediately, my arms and face freezing.

After a few seconds, Father opened the door.

“What a pleasant surprise,” he said.

A could a thin line of blood running down my face from the crown of my head. I pitched forward.

Surprise.

-

They said I wasn’t out for more than a minute. It was long enough for them to drag me inside the church and lay me out in a pew, getting gauze and wrapping my head up. I told them the wound wasn’t that serious, that it was just a megaphone that had slammed my skull, but they were of the ‘better safe than sorry’ belief.

Naturally, I brought with me the latest events. Pa had read in the news about Larson and has suspected that I had something to do with it, and despite the underhanded nature of the event, he seemed rather proud of me. It looked like he wanted to lean over to Ma and tell her that he had something to do with it. It was true – without him, I would have been utterly lost at how to nail Larson.

Tradition!

Ma asked me about Sam, and I told her that she was fine. I told them George wasn’t talking to me, everything I had learned about Dylan. I told them about Josephine – the real Josephine, and they looked at each other.

“When you were on the Island, you said you met a smartly dressed reporter?”

I nodded.

“What kind of shoes was she wearing?” Ma asked.

“Converses, I think,” I said.

She nodded and told me what I already knew deep inside. “Marlene was a smart dresser but could never leave those rotten shoes behind except on the catwalk. Said that she wanted to be taken seriously… But had made enough enemies that she needed cozy shoes in case she needed to get away.”

I sighed. “Not a vigil, then.”

Pa shook his head. “Certainly not.”

“So that’s why she wanted me to find good in Westing. Home of her death – her probable murder. A religious revival that fell on its face, riots… There was an old man,” I said, “a specter. When I helped him, he disappeared. She needs to know that there’s good in Westing and then she can rest.”

“Are you sure about that?”

I nodded. “Pretty sure.”

I was about to elaborate on my theory when there was a knock at the door. Pa looked at me as if he expected me to be outside that door again, trying to get in, and when he rose, he grabbed a cast iron cross and moved over to the door.

“I don’t know,” I whispered to Ma. She looked at me as if I had invited a party come and stay.

The door flung open and the small shape of a woman was standing outside. Her silhouette against the snow, which was coming down fiercely, was trembling. She said something to Pa, and he looked back at me.

Liza stumbled into the church, looking blue as ice and carrying my tennis bag over her shoulder.

Ma and Pa rushed to her as she fell forward onto the bag. They dragged her inside, slamming the door shut, and motioning for me to follow as they moved her into a back room. There was a fireplace with a few starter logs stacked up. Pa tossed a lit match onto the logs, slamming the match box back into a desk drawer.

I crouched down next to Liza. She was breathing, but very, very faintly. Her body was involuntarily shaking, and I grabbed her hand, rolling it between mine. I tried to blow hot air onto her, something to make her wake up, but I was gasping. I couldn’t get a full lung of air, because now I was shaking.

I was afraid.

Pa began to throw more things onto the fire – clothes, books, anything he could get his hands on to make it burn more brilliantly. Ma went to get hot water and tea. She sat a basin of hot water at Liza’s feet and tried to set them inside. I pushed the bowl away.

"She'll go into shock," I said. Ma nodded.

Liza moaned and opened her eyes. The color was returning to her face. I refused to let go of her hand.

“You were very nearly part of the garden back there,” Pa said, smiling and pouring a cup of tea.

“I’m – I’m sorry,” Liza said, stammering. “I didn’t know it would be so cold out.” She was trembling as if she expected Pa to be angry at her.

“Why did you come out here,” I whispered. My voice refused to grow above three decibels, it seemed. “Why would you do that?”

She pulled her hand out of mine and rested it on the tennis bag. “Thought… You might want this,” she managed.

I looked over at her hand feebly on the tennis bag and it felt like someone had punched me in the throat. There was a pain in my side, and I quickly grabbed her hand again.

“What’s in there, anyway,” she coughed.

“You came all the way out here and you didn’t even look in the bag?”

She nodded slowly.

“Shh, shh… Just hang in there.” I kicked the bag. “No amount of money would be worth losing you right now,” I said.

Ma tapped me on the shoulder. “Make sure she drinks this,” she said, standing up. “And don’t leave her tonight.”

I nodded. Ma and Pa walked out of the room.

Liza had fallen asleep, still shaking. I moved her closer to the fire and began to sweat, but her skin was cold to the touch. Her eyes opened and she smiled at me, as if she had no recollection of the last five minutes.

“Hey there, cowboy,” she whispered.

“Hey there yourself.”

“I didn’t think I’d find you in the storm,” she tried to sit up.

“Just lay back. You’ve got a chill. Here, drink this. Careful, it’s hot,” I raised the cup to her lips. She took a sip, coughed, and laid her head back.

“I don’t know if you know this… But it’s snowing outside, Tim,” she said. “It was sunny yesterday and now it’s snowing again.”

“I know. Just try and get some sleep,” I said. “We can talk tomorrow.”

She nodded and yawned. “I am a little tired,” she said, pulling me down on the ground next to her. She draped one arm over my chest and nestled her head against my neck. Before I could say anything, I felt her body go limp and her breathing regulate.

I stared unblinking at the ceiling until I could no longer keep my eyes open. I wanted to make sure she didn’t slip away in the night, or that I wouldn’t wake up from this. I grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze, sighing.

I could hear the fire crackle and roar behind me. Our shadows danced on the wall despite us keeping perfectly still.

The shadows froze. My breath caught in my throat. Time stopped.

In that moment, time stopped. The snow outside caught in midair, the frozen branches stopped mid-break. Down some dark alley, some man stopped mid-stab and another stopped bleeding. All over the world, things held still for that one moment.

And as quickly as it came, it was gone.

I could hear the fire crackle behind me and I fell asleep to its intoxicating song.

[FoJaR]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

o_O

[MalReynolds]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

Chapter 11

I woke up empty handed on the floor, ashes behind me and in my hair. I turned, reaching across the rug which now felt like a vast expanse of nothingness trying to grab hold of someone who wasn’t there, my fingers clawing the fine fabric, my eyes still shut tight. I didn’t want to let the sunlight in yet, but the absence of Liza was leaving me with very little choice in the matter. When I did open my eyes, they stung as the suns rays streamed down through the window and into my corneas like daggers from a giant. I rolled onto my back and tried to rub the sleep out of my eyes, sitting up and getting my bearings.

Liza was sitting at the wooden table on the far side of the room, looking down at a bowl that she was eating out of. Steam was rising from the ceramic dish, and she hadn’t noticed me getting up yet. I put my center of balance forward, clambering to my feet from the all fours position, standing and stretching.

“Hey sunshine,” she said, smiling.

“Are you okay?”

She sighed, nodded, and took another bite of what looked to be oatmeal.

“Why would you come after me like that,” I asked, moving over to the table.

“I told Tyler and George to try and find you, to let you know about the Guest Dorm being shut down, but they came back empty handed… So I left the school around six with a few ideas of where you might be, but I came with nothing. I know the bag is important to you… And if you were going to spend the night on the street, I didn’t want you to have to spend it alone.”

I sat down across from her. “Thank you, but… You didn’t need to do that. You really didn’t. You almost – last night was pretty bad.”

“The temperature dropped way too fast,” she said, taking another bite. “I know how the seasons go here, but that was very unseasonable. Before I knew what was happening, the wind picked up. The only reason I found the church was because there was a light on inside.”

I remembered Pa putting the lantern up when I got inside. She found the building because I was inside. Thank God for small miracles.

As Liza took another bite, I thought about the Island. Wesley owed me a favor and this was the last loose end I needed to tie up. To finally let the soul of that poor murdered woman rest, to let her ascend or descend or whatever it was that the soul does after wandering a two square mile Island for twenty two years. I stared at my hands and thought about all the good they could do, all the potential they had and it surprised me juts how much I had accomplished with such little life.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” I mumbled. “Thank you for bringing my bag.”

She nodded. “What’s in there, anyway?”

“Clothes. A journal, some socks. A pair of shoes and… Well, money.”

“Really?”

I nodded, got up and grabbed the bag, bringing it over to the table. I emptied the contents down onto the wooden surface. The pile of money greatly overshadowed the pants and shirts that had taken up space in the bag. Liza’s eyes grew wide.

“You’re loaded.”

“My thoughts exactly,” I grinned.

Ma and Pa walked into the room. They both froze in their tracks, eyes down at the money. Liza and I were staring at them like a pair of deer caught in the headlights, waiting for them to make the first move.

Pa was trying to stammer something out. Finally, he asked me if I wanted breakfast.

“No, I’m good,” I said.

“That’s quite a bit of money, Tim,” Ma said. “I think that’s more than you estimated.”

“Probably. I haven’t counted it or anything, but you know how things were… Up north,” I said, putting emphasis, trying to lead them to not disclose any more of my secrets. They were the only people that knew about my memory and for the time being, I wanted to keep it that way. “Gifts and such,” I said.

Ma and Pa seemed to take the hint. “Well, okay. Tell us before you leave,” Ma said. “It’s actually quite nice outside today. Most of the snow has melted and it feels like its going to be pleasant.”

“Thanks Ma, Pa.”

They turned and left the room.

“Forget the Guest Dorm, Tim, you could get your own apartment with money like this,” she said, leafing through it.

“I guess I could.”

“If you planned on staying, that is,” Liza said, pushing the bowl aside. “You are going to stay, aren’t you?”

I set my hands down at my side. “I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. I came to Westing to get away, I think. Maybe I’m not away enough yet.”

“What are you running from?” Liza asked.

“If I only knew.”

“God, it sounds like you’ve hit a mid-life crisis and you’re only twenty, Tim,” she smiled and gave me a playful kick under the table. “You’re so melodramatic!”

I smiled back. “Such is the life, such is the life.”

She helped me pile my money back into the bag, and then took time to fold my pants and shirts.

“Thanks, marm.”

“Can it, choir boy,” she shoved a pair into the bag. “So, what big plans today? You going to leave the city behind? I could come with you, you know.”

“You might not like what I’m running towards,” I said, zipping the bag up. The zipper jumped the snag in the middle and the bag sealed.

“I won’t know until I get there,” she said. “I like journalism well enough, but I never really took any time for myself. Always one thing after the other. I never took the time I needed to think things through. I’ve always been a bit impulsive – I mean, running away with you, not exactly the biggest jolt of stability, but it’d give me time to think.”

“If I run away. I might not. Who knows, the big plan today might be looking at an apartment.”

“There are some renting across the street from the dorms…”

“I guess I could stop by there and take a look around. I’m heading back out to the Island tonight anyway.”

“Why are you going back out there?”

I paused. “Because I left my jacket… I really like that jacket.”

“You’re not taking Dylan with you, are you?”

I smiled. “No, not this time. Just flying solo.”

“I don’t have class today. I could go with you.”

“Oh… Well, I don’t know.”

“No, no, I get it,” she said, standing up from the table. “It’s a guy thing,” she rolled her eyes. The sweatshirt she was wearing was light blue and entirely too big for her body. Her hand were invisible, swallowed by the sleeves dangling at her side.

“Yeah, it belongs to Mother Feldspar. Just watch what you say, Tim – I think I can beat you up.”

“You couldn’t beat up a fly,” I said standing and giving her a light shove. She almost toppled over completely, her balance lost. I grabbed onto her sleeve and pulled her back upright.

“That was pretty bad,” I said. “I guess my kung-fu is just stronger.”

“You are so stupid,” she said, turning to the door.

I grabbed my bag and moved ahead of her, holding the door as she stepped out. Ma and Pa had been eavesdropping – they almost fell through when the door opened.

“That’s classy, you two,” I said.

Ma stepped forward. “Well, we heard you were going back to the Island tonight. I just wanted to tell you – we just wanted to tell you, that is, good luck… Getting your jacket back.”

Pa nodded. “Don’t forget us out there.”

I laughed. “Forget you two? How could I?”

Ma smiled and moved forward, giving me a hug. Pa shook my hand. “It’s good what you’re doing.”

“Thanks. I guess I’ll see you guys around,” I said. Liza was standing next to me, looking as confused as ever.

Ma turned to her. “He really liked that jacket,” she said, nodding.

They walked us out to the front of the church and stood in the doorway as we stepped outside. They were still standing outside as Liza and I made our way down the street, back towards the city. When I turned, they were waving goodbye to the both of us. We stopped in our tracks, turned, and waved back. The Chapel door shut, and the building swallowed them again.

“Good people,” Liza said.

“The best.”

-

I told Liza to go tell everyone she was okay while I checked out an apartment across the street. They didn’t have any openings for viewings immediately, but I was able to toss some money their way and find an appointment that was within five minutes of my arrival time. I guess George was right – I am a lucky guy.

Who knows, maybe staying wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

The apartment they showed me was very nice. Hardwood flooring, vaulted ceilings, and windows that I could see down into the Quad from. I could barely make out the beach in the distance. Floor four, and the view went on for miles.

When the subject turned to pricing and rent control, I didn’t want to hear it. The lady who had been showing me around – dressed in an all black power suit, no less – didn’t seem to want any nonsense.

“The rent is going to be a thousand a month and utilities, providing your credit check goes through.”

I stopped. “And what if I have bad credit?”

“There are places renting… Elsewhere,” she said, an air of attitude in her voice.

“You drive a hard bargain. I’ll take it.”

“What?”

“Five rooms – bedroom, bath, living, kitchen, dining – a killer view… I’d be foolish not to.”

“Okay…” She said, bewildered. “Let me draw up the rent papers.”

“Oh, I’m afraid you misunderstood me,” I said, reaching into the bag. “I don’t want to rent the apartment. I want to buy it.”

She stopped in her tracks. “Excuse me?”

“Let’s just skip the whole credit check and I’ll buy the place.”

“We still have to process –“

“What if I pay for it in cash?”

“I mean – “

“And what if I doubled your commission?”

-

I walked out of the building. So far, the only thing adorning my new home was the tennis bag. They warned me to be inside by ten the first few nights until they got my photo ID ready, otherwise the rotational front deskman wouldn’t even unlock the doors. After nine, they said, they had to scan your card and then the door would open.

Pretty classy place. Convincing Ms. Power Suit had been a tad harder than I originally thought – but after a few hours of debating back and forth whether or not there were any ethical problems involved, she handed over the keys and put my name on the papers. Tim Smithson – Timothy, actually. I received one key and was warned not to lose it because it would be a while before they could get another, or I could just make a copy and lose it all I wanted.

Power-Suit warned me against parties, noise violations, other things of that ilk. I promised her that I was a quiet whiz kid that wrote commercials part time and had a very successful ad jingle that regularly played on the radio that I commissioned off of. She seemed to nod in agreement. Maybe she sensed the truth and just didn’t want to ruin her fat pay-day. Regardless, I now had a place to call my own.

The negotiations, however, had taken far too much of my time at this point. The sun was all ready down.

[FoJaR]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

the night is young!

[MalReynolds]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

Oh God Here We Go The Story Is Coming To A Close!

[whiteflame]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

Oh God Here We Go The Story Is Coming To A Close!

:O Caps filter.

[MalReynolds]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

:O Caps filter.

I Did It Like That On Purpose.

[FoJaR]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

What The Heck I Saw A Post By Mal And Thought He Posted More Of The Story What A Disappointment

[FoJaR]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

probably would have been easier to just let the caps filter take care of it...

[MalReynolds]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

Before I left the building, Manny, the door man asked me if I really wanted to go – once I stepped out of the door, I was going to be out for the evening.

“I’m spending the night out,” I said, thinking about my jacket in the light house. “It won’t be a problem.”

“Once those doors close, they won’t open for anyone, boss. Not even the president.”

I nodded in agreement. “Then again, I don’t think you’d open the door for the president anyway, Manny.”

He started to chuckle and I let myself out.

-

The walk to the jetty was bizarre. The weather today had started out amiable – it was in no way comparable to the temperature the night before, and yet, at the same time it felt as if the temperature were decreasing with every step I took, like my shoe was forcing the mercury down the thermometer.

By the time I was at the outcropping, I could see my breath in front of me. There was a small fire burning at the end of the rocks and I could see the familiar rain slicker dancing in the light. I was careful walking out, knowing how deep the water was… And there was a good chance that if I fell in, the water would flash freeze overtop of me.

I tapped Wesley on the shoulder and he sat up with a jump.

“Oh, hey there boy-o. I was wondering when you were going to come out and see me again.”

“Tonight’s your lucky night then, Wes,” I said. “I’d like to go back out to the Island, if you please.”

He stood up and brushed his pants off. “Payment first, see?”

“I already paid you. Remember?”

His eyes went dead for a second as he began to search his mind. They started moving back and forth rapidly as if they were the feeding needles of a VHS tape and he was reviewing the footage at a super speed. Finally, his eyes came to a rest on me.

“I don’t remember. But I’ll take your word for it. I don’t remember much, see, past a few days ago on account of I came into some money and could by me some juice, see?”

“Where do you think you got the money, Wesley?”

His eyes lit up. “That’s right! You, boy-o!”

“Yup. Now lets get out there. I’m going to freeze to death at this rate.”

I clambered into the boat carefully, one leg out against the rocks with the other inside on top of the bench. Before I could even situate myself, Wesley jumped from a rock into the rowing position, rocking the boat back and forth dangerously.

“Wesley! Don’t rock the boat!”

“Don’t worry about me, boy-o! I know how to take care of things, see?”

He was grinning a big idiot grin as he gripped the boat oars.

“I don’t normally touch these things, see, but on account of you being so pleasant to me, I think I’ll do yah’ a favor.”

“Thanks,” I said. He began to row very quickly, his eyes still alight. We made a quick path through the water, and Wesley showed no signs of slowing down.

“So, you going to be spending the night out on the Island then?”

“I think so, yes.”

“What business do you even have out there?”

“You’ll think it’s stupid,” I muttered under my breath.

“Is it a girl?”

I smiled. “How did you know?”

“Because guys like us, we do stupid things for girls.”

“That’s true.”

“So tell me about yours.”

I thought about Liza, but she was back on mainland. The reason I was going out to the Island was a beautiful woman with bright red hair that matched her blazer, skirt and shoes with skin so pale and fine like the cream off of the top of a milk bottle. I even mentioned how she was supposedly a reporter, but I thought that she was parading around as something else.

“She sounds like a real treat,” Wesley said, pausing mid-row.

“She is. I’ve got something to give her, too,” I said. “It should make her happy. Let her rest easy and all of that.”

Wesley nodded along, picking up the oars. “My shoulder just ain’t what it used to be, see?” he grunted as he rowed.

“If you want, I could take over for you.”

“No, no, boy-o. Don’t you worry about it, see… I got it all under control now,” he said, grunting again as he pulled against the ocean, propelling the boat forward.

We rode the rest of the way in silence, the only sound were the waves lapping up against the side of the old boat and the oars cutting the water. The water, how hungry it sounded that night, as if it were a breathing, thinking being that hadn’t eaten in too long. I half expected the oars to come up without the paddle on the end, and the boat to be pulled under all at once. The ocean always looked most hungry at night, I decided, and that perhaps it wasn’t something that should be feared like that.

But the surface was choppy and uneven, shaking the boat back and forth.

Before I knew it, we had hit the Island, the boat being pulled up on shore by Wesley.

“I’ll stay here, see, and when you need to go back – in the morning, whenever, just come and find me,” he trailed off, his eyes down on the ground lost in thought.

“Will do,” I said, walking up the bay down the construction path to where the grass was half as tall as I was and you could no longer see the sides of the Island. It took me a fair shake to get all the way into the woods, that was to be sure, and the trek through was just as magical as it had been the first time. The thin fog that coated the floor had returned and was brushed away easily as I sauntered through, the trees seemingly out to grab me and hold me back against whatever lay before me. The roots, gnarled, that almost appeared to be moving through the fog, that were only illusions of the full moon.

I broke out of the other side of the woods into the clearing and looked up at the light house. I was about to step forward when I felt a hand clamp down on my shoulder. I turned, and was staring ‘Josephine’ in the face.

“Hey doll face,” I managed, trying to remain calm.

“Hey there yourself,” she said, smiling. Her teeth seemed unnaturally white, but I credited the moon for that.

“I was thinking about what you said…”

“Of course you were. That’s why you came back, isn’t it?”

I nodded. “Well, I’m here to tell you that I’ve found good in Westing. There’s a guy there, George – biggest self sacrificing son-of-a-bitch that I know. Tried to get me into the school, does his best to keep in line, member of the student council… And – and get this – the entire reason he’s in Westing College is so he can teach at the Kinder. Not for money, not for the inevitable fame, but because he thinks that’s what’s right.”

She smiled and nodded along until I finished. “You’re forgetting one thing,” she said. “And that’s ‘everyone lies.’ It doesn’t matter who you are or where you’re from, there’s always a fib that’s about to cross your lips. I bet George has been stringing you along.”

“No way. I don’t want to call him naïve – but I’m a liar. And when he figured it out, he seemed hurt. Really hurt. He put a lot of trust into me, and I was a complete stranger to him. There’s no way he would go out of his way to lie to me.”

I found my argument to be relatively water-tight and stood there, waiting for ‘Josephine’ to turn into a bright white light and fly away. But she just stood there, hands placed on her hips almost impatiently, tapping her nails in a tight rhythm.

“Well, you’ve proven me wrong,” she said, smiling. “That’s something. It makes me feel good… Not great, but… Good. I don’t like being wrong, but if there’s anything I can be wrong about, you know?”

“Yeah. We’re all liars,” I said. “You tell your share of lies, Josephine? Little white lies here and there, or are yours the elephant kind that start small and grow with time until there’s no way you can get rid of it.”

“You’re smart, Tim – not Tim, whatever your real name is. I was wondering how long it would take you to put it together.”

“Too long,” I said. “But I thought finding the good in Westing would help you rest easy, Marlene.”

“Nothing is ever that simple,” she said. “But since you helped me, I guess I can help you a little bit. I’ve been out here a long time. I’m familiar with the Island, the people who walk across – most stoners looking for a good time,” she said, brushing the hair out of her eyes, “But there were some people here for a good while. Come with me.” She started walking towards the light house, her outfit blowing in the wind.

“What’s up?”

We walked up the stairs to the main chamber of the light house. I saw my coat in the corner, folded up and damp. I went for it, but she stopped me.

“Not yet,” she said, walking down the stairs to the light house keeper quarters. I walked into the room with her, and she moved over to the bed, sitting down and sending a symphony of squeaking springs into the air.

“What kind of favor is this, exactly?”

She grinned. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Tim. Besides, you’ve got that nice girl back on main land… Would you really want to jeopardize that with a little ghost action?”

I was grinning ear to ear. “No, I was just kidding.”

She laughed and leaned back, kicking hard against the floor and pushing the bed back along the dirty moldy carpet.

“Moving the bed? That’s the big favor?”

She sighed. “What did I say? Nothing is ever that simple.” She stood, leaning down and grabbing the edge of the rug, pulling it up to reveal a rotten wooden frame in the ground. There was a metal ring set dead top center and hinges on the bottom.

“Nothing is ever that simple,” I muttered under my breath.

“Care to walk into the dark with me?”

I nodded, stepping down and pulling the brass ring up. The door was heavy – like a pile of wet sponges, but I managed to pull it open all the way. It fell heavily with a thud, revealing a set of stone stairs that extended well into the ground.

“After you,” she said.

“Ladies first,” I retorted. “Besides, I can die. Don’t you think you can afford to scout ahead?”

“Oh, cutie, I already know what’s down there,” she said, stepping down. “It’s fifteen steps, just follow my voice.”

Her voice grew fainter and fainter. She was moving far too fast for me to be comfortable in the near pitch black. After a few steps, I heard a match scrape and watched her at the bottom lighting an oil lantern.

“All these years,” I said, “And there’s still a working oil lamp? What are the odds?”

“That depends,” she said, stepping further inside.

When I was at the bottom of the stairs, I was entreated to a circular room. There was a nice bed set to the side, that looked dry. At the far wall were a series of desks, beakers, test tubes, mortars, pestles, Bunsen burners and those curly little pieces of straw to connect everything. Behind the table was a cork board stuffed with pictures, memos, and what looked to be complex math formulas.

“What am I looking at, Marlene?”

But she wasn’t there. The lamp was sitting on the table. I checked behind me to find nothing but the empty stairwell.

“Stupid ghost,” I whispered under my breath, walking over to the lab. The table had no drawers and was simple in its make, as if it were made from the trees on this very Island. It wasn’t the setup that had me interested in particular, rather the cork board. I pulled down a few pieces of the formula paper and tried to make heads or tails of it, but could come up with nothing. If I had learned math before Westing, it had stopped at a high-school level.

But I could read plenty well. There were letters at the top, followed by a few symbols.

The one that caught my eye was the lightning bolt, the familiar icon that had graced the two vials of Flash I had been in possession of. Even more interesting was the plus sign next to the lightning.

It took me a few seconds to piece together just what I was looking at, but it appeared to be an improvement on the original formula of Flash. I’m no chemist, but the icons at the top seemed to spell it out fairly well.

And that’s when I started taking more interest in the cork board. Moreover, the pictures. There were a few here and there that I couldn’t place, people in them – orgies, it looked like, or body pits – and fires. But the picture in the far top right corner was somewhat familiar.

I grabbed a chair and brought it close, standing atop I unstuck the picture. The man inside – I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d seen him before. He was shaking hands with an elderly man in a white suit, who was grinning ear to ear. I turned the picture over, and scribbled along the top, “Graham Jones and Son, Conception Date.”

Conception… Of Flash?

I turned the photo back over, my shadow dancing along the wall. The old man, that had to be Graham… But the young man. I still couldn’t quite place him.

Until I saw the knife sticking out of his pocket, the pearl handle.

It was Benny. Benjamin Jones.

Graham Jones’ son.

I picked the formula sheet back up, pouring over it, and at the bottom in a very neat script:

“BJ.”

I remember the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach quite well. It was as if someone had stabbed me in the side and told me my dog had been hit by the ice-cream truck. Benny Jones, new Dean of Students, mastermind behind the formula of a new Flash. New, improved, half the fat, fills you up without letting you down.

I was trying to make heads or tails of it when I heard the gun **** behind me.

“Sorry, kid.”

[FoJaR]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

the gun what?

[ShastaTwist]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

****

[FoJaR]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

>:O

[MalReynolds]

Re: The Tin Cowboy

I slowly set the picture down on the table and held my hands out to the side, turning. Ollie was standing two stairs up, the gun pointed down at me. I swallowed hard.

“Hook, line and sinker, Ollie.”

He shook his head. “You weren’t supposed to find out about this part,” he said. “I was supposed to disappear and Benny was supposed to take over at Westing and that would have been the end of it. Why’d you come back, kid?”

“To walk with a ghost.”

Ollie fiddled with the gun, stepping down. “I don’t want to do this.”

“Then don’t.”

He sighed. “I don’t have much choice in the matter, kid. I’ve got too much staked in this. That paper you were looking at, that’s new stuff. That’s the future. People that stand in the way of progress – progress is a train, kid. You can’t hope to stop it by just standing in the tracks.”

“If you can’t beat them, join them,” I said, lowering my hands behind me and gripping a beaker.

“That’s not it,” he said. “The formula on the table is safer. Lowers the chances of being triggered. The progress – that’s it. It’ll still happen to people, but it’ll happen to fewer. You can’t stop it. People are going to use until they fall over dead. You might as well provide the safest product possible.”

“Instead of trying to get rid of it. What kind of DEA agent are you, Ollie?”

“I never said I was a good one. I’m more of a facilitator.”

I sighed, my hands wrapped tight around the beaker. “So, you’ll kill me for knowing?”

He nodded. “I don’t have much of a choice,” he repeated. “There are some risks that I can’t let dangle in the wind. Loose ends that have to be tied up, you understand? If I just let you walk, I don’t know who you would tell. I don’t know who you’ve told already.”

I lowered my eyes to the ground. “I haven’t told anyone.”

“I don’t think I can trust that, kid. It’s a good thing you got rid of Larson – the man was too set in his ways. Refused to play ball… But he was untouchable. Sat up in his ivory tower every day all day and wouldn’t come out. He was scared to death… But at least we have someone now that isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty.”

“Benny? Benny’s going to get his hands dirty? Ollie, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” he said, extending his arm. “Kid, I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” I pulled my arm out, beaker in hand.

Ollie’s eyes went wide and the rolled into the back of his head. The gun clattered to the floor and slid to my feet. I quickly picked it up and trained it on Ollie, who was lying face down on the floor, breathing lightly.

Wesley stood behind him, boat paddle in hand.

“Thank you, Wesley – that was – you saved my life.”

Wesley stepped forward over Ollie and walked towards me.

“We need to get back to the mainland now, Wes,” I said, grabbing the formula sheet off the board. “There are people in danger.”

I turned in time to see the boat paddle swing down, just in time for me to side step. It crashed through the table, sending glass in every direction. Wesley recoiled, stepping back and tripping over Ollie.

“Wesley, what the hell!?” I gripped the gun tightly in my hands.

“Don’t you see? Don’t you see? You know. You know, boy-o. Can’t let you walk.”

“Know about what?! Flash plus or whatever the hell it’s called? Ollie was going to shoot me for that. You should have just let him kill me –“

“Don’t try and talk your way out of this, see?” Wesley said, climbing to his feet. “I know you know, boy-o. Don’t try and talk your way out of this,” he muttered, rearing the oar. I pointed the gun at him.

“Wesley, don’t make me shoot you.”

“Oh, see, I don’t think you have it in you,” he said, backing away against the wall. “I don’t think you’ve got it, see?”

I walked around him, the gun trained on his head, the weight heavy and bringing my hand down. I walked backwards up the stairs to the bedroom before turning and running back into the main chamber of the light house. I managed to get to the door, which was still open and swinging inside, but couldn’t get out. A knife flew past my head, slamming the door shut. I turned back to see Wesley prepare another, tossing it up and down in one hand while he charged with the boat paddle raised. He slammed into the door, screaming something unintelligible.

He recoiled, brining the paddle down, but I was partway up the stairs. He kept lunging and I kept jumping backwards, unable to draw the gun or get any kind of bead on him. He was laughing, jumping up and down, leaping from stair to stair, off the wall, cornering me when he could.

I reached the landing ahead of him and climbed up the ladder. I could hear him behind me, his raspy breath coming out in ragged gasps.

“You know, see, you know!”

Christ. I shoved myself through the small opening to the viewing platform and slammed the door down, sliding the bolt into place. I trained the gun on the trap door and watched as the wood buckled. Wesley was slamming himself against it with all him might, but unable to get it to budge. I tucked the gun into the waistband of my pants and turned to the railing, trying to find another way down. I made my way around full circle, but the drop was sheer on all sides, not even a foothold to get myself started on.

“There’s no way off except over the edge,” the female voice said behind me.

“So I noticed,” I coughed. “I don’t know what I did to him, Marlene.”

“You? You didn’t do anything. He’s afraid you’ve found out his dirty little secret, though. He rows out to the Island not just for money. He’s subconsciously drawn to the ocean, drawn to the Island.”

“Why?”

Marlene shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t want to shoot him, Marlene. He was right. I don’t have it in me.”

“If you don’t, you’re probably going to die. You could shoot him right now, just fire through the trap door and that’d be that.”

“I – I can’t do it.”

“Well, it’ll be nice to have some company out here,” she said. “Not that I would wish that upon you, but you have unfinished business back on shore with that pretty number. You’ll be stuck out here with me.”

I slid down the wall, running my fingers through my hair and trying to assess the situation. I couldn’t shoot him – I had the opportunity twice, but I couldn’t bring myself to pull the trigger. I had come close, my finger had been tight around that thin sliver of metal, but my mind wouldn’t let me put the half a pound of pressure it would take to end a human life.

It was kill or be killed.

“Why don’t you kill him, Marlene?”

“I can’t.”

“Well, great. Thanks.”

She laughed. “I would have a long time ago if I could have.”

I looked up. She was closer to me now, hands on her knees, leaning over and staring me in the eye. “There’s no one I’ve wanted to kill more.”

“Why?”

“I can’t say. All I know is that I want to kill him. I have a hatred for that man that runs so deep that I feel it even in my death, but I cannot for the life of me – excuse the pun – remember why I want him dead.”

My breath caught in my throat as I heard the trap-door bolt break, the rusty metal pieces flying into the sky. Wesley, like a monkey, jumped through the opening.

“Wesley, stop it!”

I turned to Marlene, but she was no longer there. Wesley ran around the circumference of the viewing platform, charging at me. I raised the gun, prepared myself to fire as he raised the oar over his head. I pulled the hammer back and counted his steps – one, two, three, four, five and he would be at me.

One. I pushed the gun forward and felt my arm tense at my side.

Two. Wesley cried something out that was only a loud shriek.

Three. I closed my eyes.

Four. I could feel the shockwaves he was making as he approached.

Five. I turned, gun in hand, hurling it over the balcony and stepping aside. I opened my eyes and watched Wesley bring the oar down onto the roped off section, tearing the rope from the railing. His weight carried him forward and he misstep, stumbling towards the edge. I reached out for his rain slicker, but it was too oily to grip – it just slid right out of my hand.

He began to fall and turned, staring at me. His had blew off in the wind, his eyes wide as his feet stopped hitting the ground, the burns all over his face looking pathetic instead of mysterious. I jumped out, trying to grab his hand, but missed – his hand slammed onto the platform. I watched his wide eyes dance back and forth, staring up at me.

“Wesley, give me your hand other hand!”

But Wesley couldn’t speak. He wasn’t staring at me, he was staring past me.

“You!”

I turned behind me to see Marlene staring over my shoulder.

His fingers began to slip, losing whatever grip they had on the slick observation deck.

“Marlene, I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I’m –“

His last word was cut off as he began to scream. His finger slipped off of the deck and his body tumbled towards the ocean. His scream was interrupted by the thud of his body hitting the rocks. I stared down at his mangled figure, legs and arms asunder as he writhed on the rocks. He was still crying out when the waves came, pulling his body into the black abyss.

“Did he…” I said, turning to Marlene.

She didn’t answer me with her words. Instead, she began to glow a faint white.

“I guess he did, Tim. I just couldn’t remember. Maybe my mind blocked it out because it was a traumatic event, or maybe… Maybe there are rules to being a ghost that I don’t know.”

She stepped towards me, each step illuminating more of the deck. My long shadow was cast over the ocean against hers, intertwined like dangerous lovers.

“Thank you,” she said.

I would have replied, but she stepped even closer, pressing her mouth against mine. I closed my eyes and let her kiss me, moving my hands up her back. She pulled away and wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug.

“I’ve been waiting so long for someone to come help me,” she said, her voice cracking. “Just, thank you.”

I held her as she began to glow a brighter light, until she was too hot to touch. She backed away, smiling.

“You probably shouldn’t tell your girl about us,” she said, laughing.

“I’m glad I could help, Marlene.”

She sighed. “Isn’t it just always the way, as soon as I meet a guy worth sticking around for, I have to off and leave?”

I smiled. “You deserve to rest a little bit.”

“I guess you’re right.”

She looked up at the starry sky and I saw a single tear roll down her brilliant cheek. “Tim, you have to get back. Ollie wasn’t lying. Something very bad is about to happen to your friends. They need you.”

“I know. I can feel it in my gut. He said Benny wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty.”

“Benny isn’t,” she said. “Tim… Go - now.”

“Ladies first.”

Marlene began to laugh, her voice growing high and shrill as her body stretched out, turning into a thin beam of light that began to expand outwards until it was nothing but the lighthouse beacon. There was one final flash, one final burst, and then nothing.

I stood for a second, staring at where Marlene had been standing.

“Rest easy,” I said, turning to the trap door.

“Please.”