“Spit it out.”
Deputy Walker grabbed a chair from the corner and spun it around as if trying to put a barrier between us. “I just couldn’t do it anymore.” His face flushed red. Standing up to me must be the hardest thing he’s ever done.
Why did I ever deputize his ass? Why did I think this pansy could ever handle the responsibility of working under me? It was simple. He was weak. I knew it the moment I laid eyes on him. He was easy to control.
I guess he got hungry. Hungry for power, hungry for ownership; then he turned on me. The things we try to own will always turn around and try to own us. “So how’s it feel?” I asked.
“You have the right to remain silent, anything you say—” “Seriously?” I balked.
“I have been sworn in as Sheriff.” He choked a little on his words, looking around the room with the guilt of a child.
“My old girlfriend used to babysit this little toddler who didn’t like to go to the bathroom. One time, we took him with us to a coffee shop. I looked down at him. He was so cute, but his eyes had a certain glow to them. He was looking around at everyone, like, checking to see if any of them were looking at him, and then I watched him fidget with his pants as he let loose a little turd onto the coffee shop floor!” I laughed. Walker laughed with me.
“You’ve got the same look on your face right now” I was laughing so hard I felt a little tear roll down my cheek. He was still laughing with me, always the best tension breaker in the room.
“I was gonna pick up the turd, but some old lady stepped on it before I had a chance. I watched it squish under her shoe. It was about as flat as a pancake, except I don’t think your head will look so flat when it’s propped up on a stick.” I laughed a little more.
The color drained from Walker’s face, and his eyes filled with terror. “I told you, I’m sorry,” he pleaded.
“You need to listen to me. That is what THEY’RE gonna do to you, unless I stop them.”
“I can’t cut you loose,” Walker said. “Bumbling, fucking, idiot,” I said.
I don’t know who I’m more disgusted with, him or myself. So here it is.
The naked truth.
It’s all about rights, ownership and control. Every puppet has its strings, and every puppet, a master. When Walker screwed me over he screwed over Hunter Slip. The head of the cartel, the drug dealer of all dealers. “This control you have right now, or I guess I should say you think you have, is nothing more than an illusion.”
“I can handle anything they throw at me,” Walker said.
“Sure, puppet, they’re coming, they’re cleaning house, and they will annihilate every man, woman and child connected to that Pharmacy. This whole fucking town is gonna bleed, and that is on YOU!”
“No.” He shook his head as he got up and started pacing back and forth. “It’s you who made this mess,” he said.
“Apples, oranges—I’m sure it’s all the same to them,” I said.
Even though I was the one in charge around here, even though I had all the power and control, even though I clearly owned the town and everyone in it, I was someone’s puppet too. I didn’t want to be anyone’s puppet. I wanted full control of the entire world, or at least, my world. The moment I learned the truth, the truth I hated to admit to myself or anyone else, I came unhinged.
I made some bad choices; these bad choices led me down a path of, well, a path I hate to think about. Thanks to some proverbial side roads, traffic jams, intravenous drug use, inability to let go, the plan was taking a bit longer to wrap up. Now, it was all falling apart.
“I’m not going to—”
“GET THE FUCK OUT!” I shouted at Walker’s pansy ass as he tried to say something else.
Melissa walked back into the room. “Got some meds for you,” she said as she tried to steer around Walker.
“Get out of the fucking way!” I shouted at him.
I glared at Walker, still standing there. He awkwardly turned to leave and ran into some orderlies with a food cart.
“Get! Ya bull in a fucking china shop!” I shouted at him as Melissa stepped in to give me my meds.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d be up to eating anything, but this medication is best with food,” she said.
“Thank you, sweetie, I am a little hungry.” I rattled my handcuffed hands. “Are you planning on hand feeding me, or—”
“What’s wrong? You can’t eat by osmosis?” Melissa giggled a little as she pulled a
handcuff key out of her pocket. That right there, that key, that is the holy grail of all keys.
The keys to the kingdom. The keys to my kingdom. The plot twist of the day.
Maybe I still had a shot at setting things right?
I figured I could just wait until she let one hand loose, then I ask her to adjust my pillow? She’ll lean in, I’ll crack her skull into my bed rail, help myself to the key, and kill every single man, woman or child who stands in the way. Well, maybe not the children, and probably not the women and hell, probably not anyone.
I honestly do not find, and never have found, any joy in killing people. The ends just— they have to be met. I am a winner. I am in control. I make my own destiny, certainly can’t leave it up to fate. Sadly, that has led to killing a couple of people in my day. It’s not something I’m particularly proud of, unless they have it coming. If they have it coming, well, then it’s just game on.
We’d have to play this one by ear.
“Which hand do you prefer to eat with?” she asked.
I watched her as I thought about my plan. The timing was too risky, what with the orderlies there and the door propped open. I am a patient man. I’ll wait.
She stepped in and un-cuffed my right hand.
“Ah, finally,” I said to her, as I scratched my nose. “Been trying to scratch that itch with my shoulder for a while now but it just wasn’t cutting it.”
I watched the key to the kingdom fall back into her pocket as the orderlies stepped in and put a food tray on my little bedside table: turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing and cranberry sauce. “Looks like a holiday feast,” I said to the orderlies, trying to be pleasant.
“Yeah, Christmas dinners are always nice around here,” Melissa said. “Christmas?” I was honestly kind of surprised.
She smiled at me as she handed me the pill cup with a small, one- ounce paper cup of water. “Percocet,” she said as I dropped the pill into my mouth.
Then I accepted the little tiny cup of water from her. “This is barely enough to wet the whistle; can I get a little more?”
“Sure,”
