Cause and Effect

Chapter 19

hiraeth [hiraɪ̯θ]

(n). a homesickness for a home which you cannot return to; to a home that maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past

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Lenny settled back against the side of the building he had tucked himself into. It was damn hot day, heat index over a hundred, and he could feel the heat sucking and drawing up every last bit of moisture left on him. He was waiting on Kieran, the man had wanted to run into town for a supply run, and because Dutch still didn't quite trust him, Lenny offered to accompany him. 

So, that meant he was sweating out every last bit of salt in his body, while Kieran dawdled and hemmed over some irrelevant decision, because according to Kieran: he had to choose the right one, all the time, for fear of makin' people upset. 

Lenny wanted to give the man a few milligrams of Zoloft. 

He had been on track to go to college, Lenny had, which was more than all the rest of them had been. He had a scholarship, even, and was pretty set up on his way to heading there. 

Our son, his father had been so damn proud of him. Our son, gonna be a lawyer. 

His daddy worked hard, pulling night shifts at the local factory after working all day too, just to get his son through school. Rough calloused hands, with a heart bigger than the whole damn Atlantic, that was Lenny's daddy. He had been so incredibly proud of him, bragging about him to his neighbors, to his colleagues down at the factory, hell to anybody that had a minute to listen. 

My son's gonna be educated, he said, fierce gleam in his eye, jaw set. My son's gonna be a lawyer.

Lenny shifted against the rough brick wall, rubbing the sweat away from his eyes. 

His daddy died at the hands of men that couldn't look past their own hatred for a man that had never done them any wrong but look different. Beat him near to death, and dumped him on the side of the road. Lenny had been young, only sixteen when his daddy held his hand, wheezing and gasping, one eye swelled up. Held his hand, tears leaking down his face as he watched his daddy take his last gasping breath from bruised torn lungs. 

Lenny, he had gasped out, and Lenny had known, that his daddy wasn't going to be around no more. Lenny, you gonna be a lawyer, son. 

Lenny didn't become a lawyer. 

Lenny hunted those men down. Hunted them down and put a bullet in their guts. Stood by and watched them squirm and beg for mercy as they died slowly. It didn't bring his daddy back, but goddamn it helped heal his shattered heart. 

He hoped his daddy would still be proud of him. 

Sweat trickled down his back, and he glanced at the store across the street. They tried to keep from going anywhere in groups now, to keep attention off of them as much as possible. But damn, Kieran was taking a hell of a long time, and Lenny was hot as anything. 

He glanced down at his watch, an old silver piece that hung off his wrist. It had been his fathers and he adjusted it now, the catch slipping. 

"Lenny," he glanced up, Kieran waving to him. He sighed and glanced around before peeling himself off the wall. He waved brusquely back, trying to communicate to the man to keep it down, and Kieran dropped his hand, as if he had suddenly remembered the situation they had been pushed into. 

Which wasn't a great one. Lenny wasn't optimistic about it, figured they had about one chance in a million to break Arthur and John out of a federal holding. And hell, he pulled some of the bags out of Kieran's hands, they didn't even know where they were.