Cause and Effect

Chapter 6

friable [frahy-uh-buhl]

(adj.) can easily be broken into pieces; reduced to nothing

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John had given him the slip. 

Fine, Arthur let him. He was tired of watching the younger man mope around anyway, tired of watching him get so damn angry at every little thing. It was exhausting, and Arthur was tired enough from all the shit he was dealing with, without factoring in John's antics. 

He was at the bar now, sipping down on a whiskey, not wanting to get too drunk to stay the night in Valentine. Tilly was serving him, and the two of them had been exchanging gossip, a long-time tradition that went back to high school. 

"You hear 'bout MacDonald?" Tilly asked, rubbing a cloth over a glass. 

Arthur raised a brow at the name, before shaking his head. "Don't think so. What did he do this time?"

"Mhm, well folks say he went and got himself another woman." Tilly shook her head. "After that divorce? Man's bold."

"Sure, Tilly," Arthur laughed, shaking his head. "Ain't he like sixty-somethin' too?"

"Makes it worse," Tilly shook her head. "Hey tell Mary-Beth that I miss seein' her down here, where is she?"

Arthur shrugged. "She's trying to write her own stuff, I reckon. And between that and the whole receptionist thing, well you know."

"Right." Tilly gently put the glass down. "How's that goin'?" She glanced around making sure her other customers were too far in there drinks to be paying her much attention. 

"You know how it's goin' Tilly, you're doin' work for us." He said shortly, not wanting to discuss the more illegal side of the VDL business. "'Side, ain't nothin' much happened from what I last told you."

"Okay, Arthur." She grabbed his glass. "Ain't tryin' to pry none, honey. You know me."

Arthur laughed, shaking his head. "Tilly, that's why we brought you on, that's all you do."

She frowned, leaning on the counter. "Like to think I do more than that Arthur Morgan."

"Sure," he agreed. "You do, loads more. But we ain't doin' nothin' if you ain't here."

She smiled proudly. "I know. Jus' wanted to hear from you once in a while." 

He shook his head, grabbing his keys. "Cocky li'l shit, ain't ya?" 

"Don't Arthur, ain't becomin'." She shook her head at him, and he scoffed, sliding her an envelope. 

"That's yours, clean money this time." He blushed, remembering the problems that had cropped up when she had tried to use the dirty money a few months ago. "We pulled it through VDL and it should be legitimate now."

Tilly grabbed it quickly, hiding it under the counter, nodding at Arthur. "Thank you, Arthur."

He winked at her. "Reckon that covers my tab?" 

"Fuck no it doesn't." She scolded, and he sighed, pulling out some more money and handing it to her. 

"Run a hard business here, Ms. Jackson." He said, shaking his head, and stepping out of the bar. 

His motorcycle sat slumped next to the curb and he straddled it, thinking. 

Hosea would be pissed if he told him that John had given him the slip, considering how the man was worried how the whole John thing was going to blow out of proportion. Hell, Arthur was nervous about the man too, nothing about him screamed logical. He seemed rather to jump first, his mind kicking into gear as he fell hurtling toward his bad decisions. Arthur didn't know how the man was still alive, and if he had to guess, the haunted look in his eyes was more than enough to tell him that he had come close to death's final embrace.