Chapter 4
Nikki dropped her head after Gideon walked away. She wanted to call out to him and apologize. She shouldn’t have treated him like that. But when he’d shown up completely out of the blue when she needed help the most, she’d thought he was God’s answer to her prayer. She’d been wrong, but that wasn’t Gideon’s fault. She just wished his presence hadn’t bolstered her defiance. Her initial intention had been to pay Cole after she told him what she thought, hoping it would sow a seed that maybe would help him begin to see the unfairness of it all. But then when she had help, she’d thought it was her way out of it.
God, is this your way of telling me all I need in this fight is you?
She should have known better than to put her trust in someone who, for all intents and purposes, was a stranger, even if he didn’t feel like one. He may not have noticed her as a girl—and there was no reason he would have—but she’d noticed him. A lot of the girls in town had. He was a bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks, and he had the good looks to go with it, but that wasn’t what drew her to him all those years ago. She knew a deeper truth about him that very few did. Maybe that was wrong. She shouldn’t base her emotions on a sense of superiority because she held his secret. It didn’t mean he owed her anything.
Having him return after being in the special forces, despite the limp she noticed, had given her hope that finally someone had come who could actually do something. It was a momentary lapse in judgment that saw her hopes raised, then dashed. But she’d been through worse.
For all her rebelling at the extra fees, she was in a much stronger position than most people in this town, some of whom relied on the markets to buy them food throughout the week. For her, it meant they could have a few extra nice things. That was until she had to give half her profit away.
“Humility, right?” she mumbled. “You’re teaching me humility? Or is it character building? Either way, I don’t like it.”
If she was going to lose her money, she’d rather give it to someone who really needed it. Now all she wanted to do was pack up and go home.
Gideon banged on the door to his dad’s place for the third time. He’d driven by the bar and confirmed they hadn’t opened yet, but his dad still wasn’t answering .
He lifted his fist to bang again when a muffled shout came through the door. “I’m coming!”
A couple of thumps were followed by several swear words, then the lock jiggled, and the door opened. Joey stood in the doorway wearing a stained T-shirt and a pair of baggy briefs. “Oh, it’s you.”
Gideon lifted his eyes up the side of the building. “You should put on clothes before you answer the door, Dad.”
Joey blew out a puff of air that smelled like morning breath and beer. “You’re my son. It’s not the first time you’ve seen my underwear. What do you want? Or did you come here to give me a hard time about how I answer the door?”
Gideon looked back at his dad, getting his first real look at the man who’d raised him since his return. The right side of his face sagged more than he’d noticed in the dim bar, and his arm hung limply at his side.
“I spoke to Noah,” Gideon said.
“Oh yeah? Good for you.”
“From what he said, it sounded like you’d completely recovered.”
“And? I’m fine. What’d you want?”
“I’d like to talk.”
“About?”
“Can I come in?”
Joey grumbled unintelligible words but turned and made his way slowly up the stairs, dragging his right leg.
“Do you need a hand?” Gideon said, following slowly .
“What for? I’ve still got two.” His right arm rose a couple of inches before dropping again.
“You can move it a little?”
“Yeah, I can move it a little,” he mumbled. “I’m not a cripple.” He hobbled inside the cramped two-bedroom apartment. Everything looked the same as the last time Gideon had been there, but dingier. And now a giant flatscreen TV took up most of one wall and half of a window. It was way too big for the space, and the threadbare couch was set up too close.
“Coffee?” Joey said from the kitchen.
“That’s a big TV,” Gideon said as he scanned the rest of the apartment. “What happened to the other one?”
“Got rid of it. Won this one in a raffle. Only bit of good luck I’ve ever had in my life. I asked you if you wanted a coffee.”
Gideon looked at the unwashed dishes piled in the sink and the fruit flies that hovered in a horde around a rotting bunch of bananas on the counter.
“No, thanks.”
“Suit yourself,” Joey said, then pulled a mug out of the sink, sniffed it, made a face, and gave it a quick rinse before pouring himself a cup from the filter coffee machine in the corner.
“Do you find that hard?” Gideon said when his dad returned to the living room.
“What?”
“You’re righthanded, but now you have to do everything with your left. ”
Joey shrugged before he sat in a recliner. He set the coffee on the table next to him, then scratched himself and farted. “I haven’t got any money, if that’s what you’re after.”
Gideon covered his nose. “Seriously, Dad.”
“What? I had baked beans for dinner last night. What do you expect?”
“Too much, obviously. Listen, I’m not here for money.”
“Then what do you want?”
“To see how you’re doing. I wanted to see if you needed help with anything. Last time I visited, we didn’t part well.”
“Ah, now I’ve got it.”
“What?”
“It’s the guilt, right? You came because you feel guilty. Then let me ease your pain. I forgive you for being a terrible son.”
“Thanks.” This visit was taking an enormous amount of self-control. “But I want to help if I can.”
“You can’t. I don’t need you. I am quite content with life as it is. I don’t need you coming in here and messing everything up.”
Gideon looked around at the filth. “You haven’t cleaned up around here in who knows how long.”
“That’s what I mean. I have a system, and you’ll screw with it. I like things this way. I know where everything is.”
“This place is disgusting.”
“How would you like it if I turned up at your house and told you you were a slob? ”
“I never said you were a slob. I was referring to how difficult it must be for you the way you are.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me that I can’t handle.”
“What about your workshop?”
“What about it?”
“It’s been closed. And not recently. It looks like since before you had the stroke. Getting up and down the stairs is difficult for you. Why don’t you sell the place and buy something more manageable?”
Joey let out a burst of laughter, then coughed, causing saliva to dribble down his face.
“Here.” Gideon reached for a pile of used napkins on the coffee table.
“Don’t bother.” Joey used his shirt to wipe his face.
“Are you saying you’d rather stay here? Is it because you have so many fond memories?” Gideon couldn’t help the bitterness that edged his voice.
“Giddy, if you need me to say I appreciate the offer of help, then I appreciate it, but you’re wasting your time. Not only do I not want it, I don’t need it.”
“Would you at least consider selling up? I know the town is a little depressed, but you never know. People always need a mechanic. Someone could be looking for a small business. It could sell.”
“Oh, I have no doubt it would. His honorable Mayor Edward Fairfax, the high and mighty, would be more than happy to pay me a pittance for it, like he has all the other suckers.” He leaned forward. “I don’t have much, but at least allow me the decency to keep this. And you’re wrong, by the way. ”
“About what?”
“The shop’s not closed. I make it look that way on purpose.”
“You’re telling me the empty shelves and dust is all for show?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Why?”
“Because otherwise I’d go broke.”
“How can you make money if everyone thinks you’re closed?”
“Not everyone does. It looks closed to those who need it to.”
“Why?”
“You ask an awful lot of questions for someone who, a few seconds ago, wanted me to sell. What difference does it make to you?”
“I’m just trying to understand.”
“Well, I’m a bit like you. I have confidential information that I can’t share freely.”
Gideon squeezed the bridge of his nose. “You have confidential information?”
“Yes.”
“About your workshop.”
“Precisely.”
“Your mechanical workshop.”
“Did I stutter?”
Gideon closed his eyes as dread seeped in. “Dad, please don’t tell me you’re selling something illegal.”
“Some may say I’m doing the wrong thing, but we’ve been oppressed long enough.”
“Dad. ”
“What?”
“Is it guns?”
“I own a mechanic’s workshop, not an armory. Old what’s-his-name, uh, Gunther something-or-other. He’s the one that owns the gun shop. Perfectly legal.”
“Then is it drugs?”
“It’s not a pharmacy either. Engines, son. Did you get knocked on the head when they messed up your leg? I own a workshop.”
“Grease and brake fluid aren’t illegal.”
“Never said they were.”
“Dad, come on. What’s going on?”
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” Joey’s smile was full of unadulterated glee.
Gideon’s frown deepened. “Dad.”
“Why’ve you always got to be so serious? I sell the same stuff I’ve always sold. I just don’t tell anyone who doesn’t need to know.”
“Why?”
“Because Mayor Fairfax likes to take from the poor to give to the rich. And by rich, I mean himself.”
“You mean like the new ‘clean act’ or whatever it is he’s added to the markets?”
“Exactly. If he gets wind you have anything, he swoops in and takes it. Or he taxes it. Whichever is easiest.”
“Is that what’s really going on around here? Why doesn’t anyone do anything about it? There must be someone you can tell who can put a stop to it.”
“We’ve tried. I mean, I haven’t personally. I handle my affairs in other ways, like running my business the old-fashioned way.”
“How is hiding your business old-fashioned?”
“You’ve heard of the old speakeasies? Those guys knew how to stick it to the man.”
“Yeah, okay. You’re a real rebel, Dad. But what about others?”
“Don’t know. The people who could leave have left and never looked back. The ones who stay either think that the gods will intercede, or they’re like me and they’re plain stubborn and wily.”
“You’re serious?”
“Oh, who knows? Small towns like to gossip.”
“What about the totem poles? You said some are looking to the gods.”
“Oh yeah, the nut jobs. There’s a bunch around here who think those things carry some sort of superpower. Then there’s a bunch more who are too afraid not to believe it.”
“So Nikki was right.”
“Nikki?”
“Yeah. I stopped by the markets this morning. Had a run in with Deputy Cole. He was giving her a hard time about the new fee.”
Joey chuckled. “Yeah, Nikki Morris is one tough cookie when she wants to be. Wouldn’t have picked her for it years ago, but this town does something to ya.”
“Morris?”
“Yeah. Don’t know why she stays.” A sniff. “A pretty young lady like that should run from this town as fast as her legs will carry her. But I think she’s worried about her mom.”
“She’s Pastor Thomas’s daughter?”
“That’s the one. Didn’t like him much. But we didn’t see eye to eye.”
“Of course you didn’t. You drank too much and beat up your boys.”
“You watch your mouth,” Joey hissed. “This is my house, and I can do what I like.”
Gideon decided there was no point pushing it. The past was beyond repair. “I barely remember her,” he said, changing the subject.
“No kidding. Morris wouldn’t have wanted your white trailer trash butt going anywhere near his family.”
Gideon bit his lip. That wasn’t true at all, but he didn’t want his dad to know there was another man in town he looked up to like a father.
He could barely picture Nikki as a kid. All he could remember was seeing her give her dad a hug once, and it had churned up jealousy. She had something he had always wanted so desperately.
“Back to the point of your visit,” Joey said when Gideon went silent. “When are you leaving?”
“You really want to get rid of me?”
Joey shrugged with one shoulder. “You’re of no use to me.”
“You’re still doing mechanical work with one arm?”
“I don’t do any heavy lifting. I do what I can, and most people are grateful for my help, even if my boys don’t appreciate their father.”
“Okay then, what if I stick around for a few days and help you clean up around here? I won’t move anything important, just tidy up a bit. And I can do more to spread the word about the services you offer. Then I’ll go.”
“If that helps ease your conscience.”
Gideon sighed. “That’s not what it’s for.”
“Whatever you say.” Joey looked at his watch. “I’ve gotta get going.”
“Where?”
“None of your business.” He pushed up from the chair with a grunt and shuffled to the door but stopped. “You don’t expect to stay here, do ya? I don’t have enough room.”
Gideon swallowed. He wouldn’t have stayed even if it was offered, but it would have been nice to be wanted. He’d have to make peace with what would never change. “No, I’ve got a room at the motel outside of town.”
“Good.” He used his good arm to show Gideon the door. “If you don’t mind, I’ve got to lock up.”
He squeezed past his dad and hurried down the stairs as best as he could with his own injured leg.
God, you are going to have to give me an extra serving of patience if I’m going to get through this. He prayed as he went to his truck.
It was another couple of minutes before his dad came out, thankfully wearing a pair of baggy jeans but with the same dirty T-shirt. He watched his dad walk down the street in the direction of the bar.
It must be some kind of twisted humor You have, Gideon said to heaven, that I share a limp in the same leg as my dad.