DR. ROBERT & ELMA SCHEMENAUER AWARDS

TRANQUILLE DARK 

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by Alex McGilvery

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Chapter 1

 
Thursday, April 25

The fight started between two young punks as Blue walked south on Tranquille toward the Duchess. The younger one, hardly more than a kid, quivered in rage as the other poked his chest. Whatever he was saying, the kid didn’t like it. He spun away and stomped in Blue’s direction. 

The kid wasn’t quite yelling—mostly swear words, as if they were the only thing to come to mind while he was angry. As he passed, he sent a punch at Blue’s face. The would-be gang-banger’s fist thudded against Blue’s arms. The leather jacket absorbed most of the force. Undeterred, the kid kept swinging. 

His face showed his frustration as his friends called out a mix of encouragement and mockery. His dirty blond hair straggled past his shoulders, partially hiding an unfinished tattoo. The guy this kid really wanted to beat up leaned against the wall of the Duchess, smoking and laughing. He tossed the cigarette on the ground and sauntered away.

“Hey, kid.” Blue lowered his arms slightly to catch the young punk’s eye. “Can we finish this up? I’d like to get a coffee to warm up.”

“Shut up, old man.” The kid swung hard. Blue stepped to the side and let it pass over his shoulder. “No homeless freak is going to make a fool of me.”

Not like you need help with that. 

The kid’s friends were getting bored. They wanted to see blood, maybe land a few kicks of their own. If they swarmed him, it would be trouble. Blue already struggled to keep his beast on its leash.

The kid pulled a knife. It snicked open—a gas station karambit, cheap steel, crap quality, but it could still kill.

“Hank…” one of the hangers-on called out uncertainly, but another punched his arm with a warning glare, then stared at Blue avidly waiting for blood.

Blue danced out of range and put a suitably nervous expression on his face. As he’d hoped when he saw the knife, Hank rushed in slashing wildly. He had no idea how to use the blade.

Blue caught Hank’s arm and turned his hand to apply pressure to Hank’s wrist.  To the bystanders, it would look like he was desperately holding off the kid’s attack. Hank’s wide eyes showed the pain had cut through the anger.

“Listen, Hank.” Blue spoke softly so only Hank would hear him. “You’ve proved yourself to be tough. Say something nasty and threaten to really cut me next time, then walk away laughing.”

“And if I don’t?” Hank’s eyes hardened. Blue increased the pressure on the arm.

“I break your arm and you look like an idiot who can’t take an old man.” He met Hank’s eyes and let him glimpse the beast hiding behind them.

“Next time, I’ll gut you for real,” Hank shouted before stepping back. Blue released him, ready for another attack, but Hank spun away, replacing the knife in his back pocket. “I don’t want the cops after me for some worthless bum.”

Blue sighed and waited until the group had walked away north toward Tim Horton’s, forcing anyone in their path to jump aside. He’d get his coffee at Mac’s today. Clenching and releasing his hands loosened the tension in his arms.

Damn, but I could use a drink. But when in the past two years had Blue not needed a drink? Caffeine would have to do.

“Blue?” A tentative voice caught his attention, and he looked around. A woman, younger than him, but looking older chewed her lip. 

He softened his gaze and waited. She didn’t need the spillover from the fight. While he waited for her to continue talking, he categorized her. He didn’t smell any booze, but her hands twitched, and she was too thin. She’d washed her long black hair in the last day, so she had a place off the street, but no money for food or laundry.

“Rooster’s missing.” She stuffed her hands in the pocket of her bedraggled puffer jacket. He doubted she could fit so much as a cigarette paper in her jean’s pocket. They were as tight as Hank’s had been loose.

“Again?” Blue rolled his eyes. Rooster was missing more than he was around.

“We got a room at the Alpine, but it’s the end of the month and he’s the one pays the rent.”

“Right.” Blue stared into space for a moment, counting in his head. “It’s the twenty-fifth today?”

“Yeah.” She looked down. “I can’t pay it myself. I talked to the others.” Her face reddened, and she ducked her head. “None of them’ve heard from him either. Don’t think he has a new chick neither. He’d have brought her to the room and put me out if he did.”

“That he would.” Rooster had more women in his harem than Blue could name. They were almost an association, helping each other out instead of being jealous. He couldn’t fathom it. 

“You’re the closest thing to a friend he has.” The woman peered up at him. “I’m asking you to look for him. He can be a jerk when he’s got some new chick, but he’s the only one who listens to me.”

“Listens?” Blue raised an eyebrow.

“Whatever else he wants, when I talk to him, he listens like I’m the only thing in the world.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “It’s like I’m more real when I’m with him.” She held out a small bundle of cardboard. “These are free McDonald’s coffees. It’s all I’ve got.”

Blue counted eight in the stack. He took four of them. “I’ll do what I can, no promises.” The coffee cards went into his jacket pocket. “What’s your name?”

“Rooster told the motel my name was Hannah.”

“What do you call yourself?”

“Hannah’s as good a name as any.” She wandered away, and Blue stared after her. Was being a good listener really that big a deal? He put his bet on her wanting to keep her warm room. This year, even in spring, days were still chilly, the night cold. At least today was dry.

***

Blue crossed the street and headed north. He pulled his beanie from a pocket in his coat and put it on. Not much of a disguise, but unless Hank was looking for him, it would get him past Timmies. His stomach grumbled. Maybe the Sally Ann would still have bread left. The change in his pocket wasn’t enough for a muffin.

He almost stopped in at the Big Edition office, but this late in the month the paper didn’t sell well. He didn’t want to haul around papers nobody’d buy.

Tranquille bustled like two streams that refused to mix. People in well-worn dirty clothes and a crazy mix of layers passed those in clean clothes which, if they had a tear, had been bought that way. Neither met the other’s eyes though they miraculously avoided collisions on the sidewalk.

A car honked at a man pushing a shopping cart overflowing with torn black bags and a cardboard sign reading “Bless you.” The wave the man responded with didn’t look like a blessing.

At the Sally Ann, a stale loaf of rye bread sat on the shelf. Blue picked it up and turned to see a woman eyeing it hungrily and nodded for her to follow him outside where he took a handful of slices before passing the rest to her. On an impulse, he gave her a free coffee coupon from the ones in his pocket.

“You know Rooster?” He stepped back to give her space to dash if she wanted.

“Some.” She stuffed bread into her mouth. He nibbled at one of his slices. “Haven’t seen him about lately.”

“Right. Thanks.” Blue smiled and headed toward McDonald’s. A coffee was calling his name. He ate the rye bread as he walked, tossing the last crust to a pair of crows.

The girl at the counter relaxed when he handed over the filled cardboard oval for a free coffee. Blue sat in a far corner where management wouldn’t spot him, though as long as he had the cup, he was likely safe enough. The caffeine settled into his veins, helping him to both relax and wake up properly.

“Hey.” A man with a Santa Claus beard and tattooed arms slid in across from Blue. “You going to keep that sticker? Only need one to fill a card.”

Blue peeled it off his cup and passed it over.

“What’s up, Sam?”

“Different turkeys, same shit.” Sam slurped at his coffee. It almost overflowed from the cream and sugar the man put into it. Blue drank his black and bitter.

“Ain’t that the truth.” Blue stretched and rolled his neck. A youngster cried, high pitched and sharp, on the other side of the restaurant and Blue gripped his cup to keep his hands from shaking. “You seen Rooster about?”

“Didn’t know you swung that way.”

“Don’t, we’re friends, sort of.”

“Huh, didn’t know he had any.” Sam stared into his coffee. “Couple days back he was talking to a woman on the street.”

Blue laughed. “When is he not?”

“Didn’t look like his usual type.”

“He has a type?” Blue ran through the women he knew of who’d been one of Rooster’s chicks. They were all ages, shapes, race.

“Didn’t look like she needed him.” Sam glanced up at Blue. “His women talk on and on about how he listens to them, like they’d die for the chance to pour words into his ear. All of them desperate for his attention.”

“Right.” Blue leaned back. “So a woman who wasn’t desperate.”

“Didn’t say she wasn’t desperate. Had the shakes bad, only not for Rooster if you get me.”

The youngster took up its wailing again, accompanied by a woman’s cajoling voice.

“Gotta go.” Blue stood and picked up his coffee. “Thanks for the help.”

Outside he took a long pull at the coffee, wishing again for a drink. The chill breeze curled under his coat collar, making him shiver. Should have asked where Sam had seen Rooster. Too late now.

To keep warm, Blue put his free hand in his pocket and headed toward the North Thompson. He’d check out a couple of places Rooster camped when he wasn’t flush enough for a room. Wasn’t likely, but what the hell, he didn’t have anything else to do.

The wind was sharper by the river, but after Blue clambered down toward the beach, he could walk along the path sheltered by the trees. The water covered the beach but left a dry strip of brush. Though it was early yet, he spotted more than one tent. None of them looked like Rooster’s and one fight in a day was enough. He wouldn’t risk being thought a trespasser, so he skirted around them. Didn’t look like anyone was home anyway.

He rounded the bend and walked under the Overlander Bridge, then up the bank and over to MacDonald Park. Nothing gained but mud on his boots.

The upside was he’d burned enough time to head to The Loop to see what they had on for lunch. He completed his circle back to Tranquille and pushed through the doors. The air carrying the smell of turkey and gravy made his stomach rumble. Blue grabbed a plate and another coffee and tucked in. A few people gossiped over their meals, but most concentrated on eating the only food they’d get that day.

“What’s up, Blue?”

“Not a lot, Jake.” Blue leaned back to look up at the guy who ran the kitchen and kept things moving. “Looking for Rooster.”

“Haven’t seen him.” Jake frowned. “He’s usually in at least once a week.”

“One of his chicks is worried.” Blue shrugged and wiped his plate with a bit of bread and sighed. “Good as usual.”

“Payday tomorrow.” Jake said. “You’ll find him under a bush hopped up on something.”

“Hope so.”

Jake moved on to talk to a couple other regulars.

“You hear Ray OD’d?” A woman Blue didn’t know was talking to a man on a scooter beside her.

“Ray?” The man shook his head. “Thought he was smarter than that.”

“Not smart enough.”

Someone pulled out a deck of cards and Blue played cribbage until closing, then helped Jake clean up for the day.

He should head back to his camp. Might as well take another check for Rooster again on the way. Remembering Ray’s fate, he peered into places someone might hide to take their hit. Nothing.

Almost at the Halston bridge, Blue reached up to tug on a rope, untying the knot. He lowered his bag to the ground, then tucked both ends of the rope out of sight. Back when he’d thought camping was just a fun activity, he’d learned to hide his gear in trees to keep it away from bears. It worked just as well for people. At least, no one had found it yet.

Across the river, the mountains glowed gold in the late afternoon light. Blue checked the pitiful supply of tinned food he had left. Good thing tomorrow was payday. He sat watching the geese until the sky darkened, and the moon rose to reflect in the river.

The moon was a perfect circle, shining with silver light. He’d like to live up there with no people around. Instead, he was stuck down here with the reflection, troubled by the currents of the world. He shook the thoughts from his head and wrapped up in his bivouac bag, tent and sleeping bag in one.

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He fell asleep with the sound of geese honking in the dark.

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