Merculi grasped the whisky shot cup, he starred at it knowing that what he was clenching so tightly in his left hand was his last dollar. He spotted a couple bouncing out the bar doors with jubilance so evenly spread across their faces.
'They are probably running home to their Marrilton apartments and their fancy cars, they don't know how the other half lives...' Merculi muttered, he let the thought of where he would sleep tonight dwell on his mind until letting the thought disperse like the whisky in the now empty shot glass.
He stayed in the bar for a few more hours before his overstayed welcome had begun to appear through the bartenders' eye. He had his hand on the doorknob when he turned around and let himself melt in one last second of warmth and heat, before he finally turned the knob and headed out to the cold and shivering night that laid in Merculi's future.
Wandering the lonely streets of Marrilton, Merculi dared to think of Mary and Joseph. Memories quickly washed into his mind like water washed ashore, he let himself immerse in the few moments he could still recall. A tear streamed down his cheek before he angrily wiped it away, he felt stupid and annoyed at himself that he would let himself be so vulnerable. He walked faster, chasing the memories away.
Merculi's legs were sore when he came across a park, they were dangerous but he knew how to take care of himself. He decided on a sensible and safe place in the woods before he let himself lay his head and drone away to sleep. The last face that he saw was Mary's and Joseph's.
The sudden cessation of motion awoke Merculi, the cold air was chilly against his face and he awoke to see the face of a strange woman looking down upon him. His hand drifted off to his knife before the shining sun shone upon the badge pinned on her shirt. Like a reflex he over looked the badge number.
'My face is over here' the woman spoke, waving her hand around to her face.
'I wasn't looking at that' he pointed bluntly at the badge, his gruff voice sliced the very corners of her mind. Something about Merculi fascinated her and it wasn't just his involvement in her case.
'What do you want?' Merculi starred at her with the same sharp look that never seemed to scrub away from his face.
'I'm detective Wallor, and the police department would like your help on a very important case.'
'What makes you think I want to help?'
'It involves your deceased wife and child' she looked at the floor, even with her years of experience she had never come across a case quite like Merculi's, and although her intentions were selfish she knew that mentioning his family would involve him in her case.
'I'm not going to help you, so just find a new guinea pig.' He lay back on his bench, turned his back and ignored her.
'Look i'm sorry I have to ask you but it's important. It involves Mary and Joseph's killer'
'Don't talk about them and don't act like you knew them. Never feel sorry for somebody you don't know'
Detective Wallor ignored his cold response.
'Look we found a mother and son kidnapped with the same MI as Mary and Joseph's.' Detective Wallor waited for a response, until his attitude started to boil up inside of her.
'Ok fine, don't listen. But just know there is a father and husband who is going to go through the same hell that you are if you don't help us.' She placed one of her business cards under a rock before she shot Merculi one last poignant look and left, only the silent crunching of the leaves as evidence.
The night passed rapidly for Merculi, he was too tired to even dream. Usually he would only wake once to hear the rave in furious gusts and the rain fall in torments. He would wait for the sun to come up and then the weather would rapidly change, from rain and cloud, to sun and heat. But that morning he wasn't awoken by soft patter of rain drops falling on his body, he was roused by early joggers trampling along the wet, soft leaves. Merculi was still thinking about last night, he wrestled with himself all morning until he could no longer bear his ravenous hunger.
Breakfast was always the hardest to find food, last night's rubbish would've been eaten for dinner, breakfasts are usually eaten at home and people were always irksome in the mornings. Was it the crisp air, or the thought of work in the morning, was it that everyone looked ugliest in the mornings or was it that bedroom grudges were always freshest? Merculi smiled to himself, he wished he had someone to smile with and he dared to think of Mary. Her smile, with her happiness that never seemed to leave her face, the glow that radiated even the darkest room. Photos couldn't capture her smile, they just framed it.
In the end Merculi stood over the trash can, holding a half eaten piece of toast and even that was like a victorious event. Usually starvation, restlessness and the scanter of whispers would fill his mornings to the brink, which left no room for consideration. He took one last look at the trash can and could not help but think that he and the trash can had something in common; disposed, useless and irrelevant.
To Merculi he could not remember a day where he didn't think about Mary, Joseph and the great life he never got to appreciate. Sometimes hot, angry tears would fall, sometimes objects will be thrown, and the worst; sometimes he would just sit there and reminisce in memories which faded like a video played over too many times.
His hands were clenched tightly in his palms, his brows were pulled in a thick, angry line when he arrived at the Marrilton police department.
'This is so stupid. Shouldn't even be doing this.' He would whisper to himself.
Merculi took one step into the department, the man-made breeze welcoming him. He saw detective Wallor and decided to ignore the receptionists' yells and requests, and leaped up over the counter. A graceful, yet manly swan dive...from a homeless man.
Detective Wallor met him, 'I thought you weren't going to help me' she said with a sanguine smile.
'Neither did I"
