Danny Hacker.

Chapter 18: Never Forget.

Years Later:
When I went to see the girl's at their house they were nowhere to be found. I did find a lot of letters addressed to someone called "C." I assumed that was Charlie. I guess they had done too much damage to stay in this town and decided it would be best to go missing again. This time their signs read: MISSING: Walker & Charlie Jones
That is how everyone knew them after all.
Walker's sign had a picture of her as a blonde and she looked beautiful. I grabbed one, folded it up, and placed it in my pocket because I didn't want to forget what she looked like. I still have it today.
As I got older I began noticing Ronnie's appearance was changing. His body never aged. His facial hair had stopped growing. And he got spots that resembled those that I had seen on Walker. When I was twenty two, I heard that Charlie Hacker's body was found. The doctors determined that her brain and insides had begun to rot and that she had been covering her whole body in makeup to make her look healthy. The police said that when they found her it looked like she had been dead for years.. guess she wasn't as invincible as she thought she was. They said that someone had come forward, telling the police what had really happened to the Hacker family and the case was finally dropped. I suppose Walker had something to do with that. I never did find out what had happened to her after that. Even though she had lied to everyone and she had run away, her intentions were still good. I hoped she was living a full and happy life and if she wasn't, I hoped she was at least at peace.
As the years went by Ronnie got worse and worse but I stuck by him every second. He's still kickin' it today.. He looks like shit.. But he's here and that's all that matters. The doctors say he doesn't have much longer so I've made sure to fill his final years listening to Gangsta's Paradise, fixing and driving nice old fashioned cars, and all the buckets of ribs he could eat. He decided to rebuild the Grease Garage and we both owned it as partners. We still work there today.
I think about Walker every now and then. After Charlie died, I knew that must mean that Walker would be gone soon too, or that she already was.
They tore down the old flower shop a few years back and I keep a piece of the door that she painted in my office. I'm thirty now and still get compliments on how beautiful it is all the time from my customers. I hang it in my office because I feel like it honors her and she deserves that. The Grease Garage is more packed than ever and Ronnie has never been happier. Even though he can't do too much anymore. We decided to put up photos of:
Walker Jones, Bob Dennley, Shawn Bradley, and my father Jeremiah Bentley.
To honor them.
They deserve it.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
When I was little, my dad worked in the morgue. All the other students at my school got to go with their fathers to work and I wanted that too. He finally let me go with him one day but told me to brace myself. I got sad because I realized that they were done. They would never live another day ever again. Of course as little as I was, the bodies did frighten me. He told me, "it's not about the bodies son. It's about who they are. You think that the fact that they're dead is sad? Well imagine what happens after. Imagine everyone moving on and forgetting about them forever. A person's death does not end their story. The people who were a part of the story, that move on and forget are the ones who end it." My father worked at that morgue until the day he was rolled in there himself. But as long as I'm still breathing, just like the others, his story won't come to an end.
_________
It's hot at the garage today. I unlock the door and raise it up, turning the sign to read "open". Before I even sit down the bell rings, letting me know that a customer has just walked in. "Welp. Here we go." I say to myself as I button my carhartts and put my hat on. I go out to see a beautiful, young, brunette haired girl with a floppy hat, a yellow scarf, a long coat that went to her feet, and sunglasses over her eyes. "Hello miss can I interest you in some parts or maybe even a new ride?" I ask using my pleasant employee voice and smile. She didn't answer, instead she took off her floppy hat and her yellow scarf and her coat, revealing a pair of washed out mom jeans and a white pair of Keds. She began to pull her sunglasses down her nose and flashed me a smile.

"Hello again Ace."