Type 88

Part 4 - The Fallout, Chapter 9

9

Fifteen Days until the Deadline

Jeff walked into Mike's Tavern on a Sunday morning and saw Tim, already half in the bag. Tim was watching an old western with a few of Mike's lifers. These guys silently kept each other company while they watched a ball game at night or a movie in the morning.

Mike's business came from its lifers, so it kept the '70s orange-and-brown decor to keep their routines steady. The place smelled like cigarettes and bar rags.

Jeff sat down next to Tim, who smelled of cheap Swisher Sweets cigars. Mike tended bar and was ready with a Hamm's beer before Jeff could get his wallet out. Jeff left a twenty on the bar.

"One day closer to the end, eh?" Mike asked. He swapped Jeff's twenty into a ten and eight ones.

"Isn't that the way it always worked?" Jeff said.

Mike laughed, shook his head, and disappeared around the corner, hoisting a case of bottles.

Jeff hadn't meant to make a joke. He pulled out his checkbook and wrote Tim a check for the overtime he'd pulled the week before. The attrition brought on since the broadcast meant there were plenty of hours to fill. He told the guys he'd keep the extra time off the books. Tim jumped on most of these, and Jeff figured the check would go straight to his tab here.

"Should I just make this out to Mike?" Jeff asked, half-joking.

Tim gave him a glazed look, his eyes wide with surprise, as if this hadn't happened before. "I s'pose so," he said. "Heh!"

It didn't matter how fucked up Tim got, he'd show up on time in the morning. Benny had latched onto this work ethic as well, grabbing up as many hours as Tim had.

"You think the kid's ready to take the shop yet?" Jeff asked, taking a drink from his beer.

"He's still green," Tim said. "But he's got a head on him, you know. Works his dick off too. Got that from his old man, I s'pose."

Jeff recognized the western playing on TV—High Noon. Mike's didn't exactly offer a varied selection on Sunday mornings. Gary Cooper was playing Will Kane, and his wife was leaving on the noon train, with or without him. The outlaws were coming to town to kill him, and Will would have to face them alone.

Jeff looked around. How many fucking times have these guys seen High Noon? He was pretty sure that none of them recognized it.

"Tim, what's your plan?" Jeff asked.

Tim was watching the TV with a fog over his eyes. "Pro'lly stick around here for another one—wanna catch the end of this movie," he said. Jeff knew Tim would be there until the bar closed.

"No, Tim. Once I'm gone, what's your plan?" Jeff asked. "There's no guarantee Benny will trust you like I do. You work hard. But I don't know how much he'll put up with...this."

Tim sobered up for a moment. "What do you mean—this?" he asked.

Jeff didn't respond. They took another drink.

They sat there awhile. Will Kane got into a fistfight with his deputy, Harvey, because Harvey wouldn't let Will give up and leave town before the outlaws returned. The whole town, including Will's wife, had told him to leave, to forget about everything. Jeff wouldn't blame Will for leaving either. He thought sticking around to die a hero was a cowardly choice when it came down to it.

Tim broke the silence, startling Jeff. "Never really had a plan, Jeff," he said. "Just trying to make an honest wage. Like you said, I work hard. Don't really know why you're here giving me grief."

Jeff didn't respond. No point in going any further with it. Tim would forget everything by tomorrow—back to a blank slate. His life was an earthquake. He took refuge at Mike's.

They sat again, silent.

Jeff wondered why he had unbuckled his seatbelt the other morning, when the wolf ran into the woods.

Tim broke in again. "Besides, Benny gets it. Hard work pays off. Said it yourself. Hey, before you cut me this week's check, let me check with Mike on my tab. Might have run one up, and I guess you could just make it out to him."

Mike returned from the back. He laughed and shook his head.

"Tim—when did you start working for me?" Jeff asked.

Tim cocked his head, straining his disconnected circuits to find the wrong answer. "I suppose I was twenty-one. Same age as Benny," Tim said.

Jeff finished his beer. Mike raised his eyebrows, insinuating that he'd get him another one. Jeff waved him off.

"Yeah, my old man scared the shit out of me," Tim said.

This surprised Jeff. He figured Tim had forgotten anything that happened before High Noon started.

"Ran away from home a few times when I was still in school," Tim said. "Then again when I wasn't in school. Kept coming back though. Spectrum was the first place to stick, I guess. Good work ever since."

Tim nodded in self-approval at his last remark.

They sat silently again.

The movie was ending. Will had to face the outlaws alone. He almost took them all out before he got shot. He needed help to finish them off, and, just in the nick of time, his wife returned from the noon train. She had chosen Will over her Quaker faith. Together, they rid the town of the bad guys.

Douglas, who had been sleeping in the truck, started to bark outside. This generally meant it was time to go home. Jeff got up, leaving Mike two dollars and Tim's paycheck. "Take care, guys," he said.

"Yeah, have a good one!" Mike and Tim echoed.

Jeff hated the way High Noon ended. They bailed the asshole out. Why can't we teach the hero a lesson?

Same age as Benny. My old man scared the shit out of me.

Jeff got in his truck and started it up, which was usually enough for Douglas to go back to sleep.

Douglas barked in his face.

"Yeah, yeah. We're going home. I get the point," Jeff said.

Douglas snarled at him.

"All right! That's enough!" Jeff said. He put the truck in reverse, and looked over his shoulder.

A pack of wolves stood on the other side of the street, staring at Jeff through the rear window. The rest of the town stood still. The only movement in the chilly morning came from the clouds in front of the pack's rhythmic breathing.

Jeff backed up, put the truck in drive, and drove home without looking back.