Thicker Than Blood

Chapter 1: Butte, Montana

            "Roger? Roger? ...ROGER!" a voice belts through the radio. My eyes quickly open. Expecting to see two yellow lights heading towards me in a rage but, to my disappointment, it was just my very dim lit colleague, Dwight. Blasting his voice over the radio loud enough for the next county to hear.

I roll my eyes and reach for the intercom with my fingers still covered in glaze.

         "What, Dwight?" I asked, sarcasm dripping enthusiastically from my voice. Disguising my hate towards him in every word.

          A few seconds go by as I sit there staring at the radio, waiting for the idiot to reply. Nothing but silence surrounds me in my car as I wait desperately for Dwight to break frequency so I can purposefully interrupt him to tell him to 'fuck off' for a good laugh.

          For the past couple of months, I haven't been 'Mr. Brightside' as others would say. I have found myself recently underneath some dark clouds. Trapping the sun from shining within me and I do not know what exactly it is that is putting me into this funk as there are multiple things, I can pin point in my life that may be causing it. Yet, I just do not know for sure which ones to treat first. Maybe I should start with the bug-eyed prick that does not shut up on the radio. I think not just me, but many others in town would benefit very well from his absence. I mean to be fair, he was not well liked by the miner's either.

As my thoughts rush through my head, chuckling at a couple, the radio silence finally breaks.

"Roger? You still there?" Dwight speaks with a softness to his voice.

"Ya, where the hell did you go tho?" I reply into the mic.

"Just had to take an important phone call, Sorry about that."

       Jesus this guy really knows how to push every button of mine. I do not think I can go one more day with this tool. I've always wonder who in the right mind hired this idiot. I finally got over my anger and responded:

"And who is more important than doing your job!"  I could hear Dwight's lips pressed up against his mic as he giggled like a little school girl when Tommy confesses his love for her.

        "Well, at this moment, your mom. She is someone I truly do cherish deep in my heart at this moment... and last night."

        I could hear the burst of laughter he let out right into the mic after that one. Dwight thought he was a comical genius with his witty and 'classic' jokes. I am never fazed by anything he says, let alone his stupid jokes.

        After a couple of seconds go by, allowing Dwight to wipe away his tears and compose himself enough, I bark back:

"Ouch! Dwight that one hurt. What do you want?"

Still little chuckles come over the radio followed by a deep inhale.

         "...There has been a report of a fight breaking out at Ronnie's between a miner and a kid. We need our best guy one the job and at this time of night, that's you Roger."

        "Alright, I'll start heading over there then." I Buckle my seat belt and turn on the lights that once flashed bright and a roaring siren but now, due to the amount of usage and years, are now two flashlights followed by a mute noise.

"Great," Dwight replies.

         Ronnie's is the local bar in town that everyone in this god forsaken town goes to. And during this time of year, these calls are of the normal.

         The city of Butte, Montana, is composed of mainly two types of people: drunk miners and stuck up college students. The miners here all work up in the copper mines which has been running in their family blood line for decades. Everything that makes this town are the mines. It was what put this town on the map back in the 1870's and what help create hell itself, Montana Tech.

       Montana Tech was not bad necessarily, it was the little hellions it brought into this town. Around the 1960's is when the university started to become popular. Filling this town with homesick kids who have left home and are experiencing freedom for the first time in their lives.

       This place has truly turned into hell on earth and with hell in mind, I only had one other person that I coincided with the word itself.

       I pulled up my mic to my face which was wearing a, dare I say it, dashing smile and speaking into it asking for Dwight. I then get a quick "yes?" from him. I could not believe I almost forgot to say goodbye to Dwight. Still wearing my 'dashing' smile I tell Dwight:

"Fuck off."