Page 138 of Five Mountain Daddies

That surprises me. I didn’t know Atticus had gang ties. I never pictures him as getting involved with a gang, junkie or not. He just wasn’t ever thetype.

But that’s the thing about addiction. It changes you in ways you never thought it possibly could. You’re still you, deep down under the layers of all the bad filthy shit that’s happened to you, but you’re buried so far under your chemical need for drugs that there’s really nothing else left of you. People will do things they never thought they would, just to keep their fix coming inregular.

Seems like Atticus did what any other junkie woulddo.

“How involved?” I askhim.

He shrugs. “Hard to say. They don’t exactly keep membership rolls and don’t like to talk tocops.”

“But involved enough that you’re aware ofit?”

He nods. “That we’re sure of. He’s been busted a few times on minor drugcharges.”

I nod thoughtfully. “Could be the reason he gotkilled.”

“Sure, we’re looking into that,” Mitch says. “I mean, the Niners haven’t been going around killing, yet at least. They’re threatening a whole lot, and beating the shit out of folks that cross them, but nokillings.”

“Could be the first one.” I sip my drink, mindwhirling.

And then I catchmyself.

This is what I do. I can’t help it apparently. I told Cora I wasn’t going to get involved, but here I am, getting involved. Just asking questions and thinking this thing through is getting involved. I know myself, and if I let my brain get a hold of this problem, I’ll never let itgo.

I glance toward the front of the building. The memory of Atticus, smiling at me that first time we met, comes back again. That’s the kind of guy Atticus used to be. I doubt anyone here even remembers that boy, the one brave enough to stand up to three older kids just to help another kid he didn’t even know. He was smart, and brave, and loyal. He was a good person, before the drugs, before thegang.

“You know any associates?” I ask Mitch, inwardly cursingmyself.

“Sure,” he says, looking wary. “I shouldn’t talk about it,though.”

“Look, man. I’m just asking as a friend. I won’t step on anyone’stoes.”

He hesitates. “Had a girlfriend named Kristi, she was involved with the Niners somehow. And there’s also JaxsonMoyer.”

I perk up that that second name. “Jaxson?Really?”

He grins. “Sure. Yousurprised?”

“Guessnot.”

Jaxson was another guy from our grade back in the day. In fact, he’s the guy that Atticus slowly drifted toward, back when he started getting into drugs and our friendship was slowly dying out. Jaxson was the guy that started pulling usapart.

I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s involved with the local gang. That kid was trouble, even backthen.

As Mitch starts talking about some other local drama involving Jaxson’s mom and the local Baptist pastor, my mind starts running through scenarios, trying to figure out how Atticus ended up dead. I don’t even have any details or facts, but I can’t help myself. I know these people personally, at least from back in the day. It’s been a long time since high school, and yet being back in Mason makes me feel like that samekid.

Eventually I make up some excuse, and I pay for our drinks. Mitch and I walk out together, and he shakes my hand in the parkinglot.

“Listen, if I don’t hear from you again, good luck out there in the big city,okay?”

“Thanks, man,” I say. “And good luck with your family.” I grin at him, shaking my head. “MarcieLane.”

He grins back. “I know, right?” He waves as he gets into his truck. “See you later,Wyatt.”

I wave and watch him pull out before getting into myrental.

I sit there, staring at the Great American. The memory comes to me again, and again I remember what it was like to have Atticus save me, the relief I felt. We hung out all that afternoon, and I got in trouble for being late, but I didn’tcare.

I had a new friend. And soon, he’d become my best friend. We did a lot of things together, were as close as I’ve ever been with afriend.

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