Page 2 of Small Town Beast 2: Saverin's Duet

“Thank God,” she said. “I thought he would never leave.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want you coming here. What did I tell you?”

“Whatever, Abi.”

Lorrie began tracking down an elusive water beetle that had invaded through the window. Absalom returned to his desk. The desk was cherry, something he’d made a long time ago in the hopes of becoming a carpenter by trade. If he’d done that, he might have just married Lorrie and lived a normal life down in Rowanville. Not Florin. Their hometown had no place for them.

Bigoted jackass, there’s too many of ‘em, no priorities, near-sighted, hateful…

SMACK!

“Shoot, I missed it,” Lorrie exclaimed. “It went through the floorboards.”

“Let it be, Lorrie,” Absalom told her wearily.

“Well I don’t have a choice now, do I? I can’t take a bug in the room, I just can’t, you know that.”

“Well it’s gone now.”

“You’re always saving them and putting them outside. I bet that one is related to the one you rescued last time.”

“You think of the darndest things, Lorraine.”

Satisfied, Lorrie flopped back on the bed and said it was getting mighty cold tonight. Grunting an agreement, Absalom tipped back the dregs of apple hooch in his flask and stood at the window to consider the sunset. It did have the markings of Fall, though they were deep into summer now. What a vision it was. It never missed him, how beautiful this place could be. The sun dipped blood-red down between the purple mountains of Southwest Virginia, the golden wheat field below belonging to the cousin he would kill tomorrow, and the herd of deer thatpranced across it in a nimble sprint towards the pine forest of the mighty Bailey clan.

From that window Absalom saw the past, the future, and a world made new.

“Who was that anyhow?” Lorrie asked.

“Nobody,” said Absalom.

“What did he say about ‘race-mixing’?”

“Nothing.”

Lorrie sighed. “Come rest your eyes. You’ve been at those papers for hours now.”

He smiled for her and turned back to the window. “It’s alright.”

Absalom wouldn’t be caught sleeping tonight. Best not to risk it. Once his head hit the pillow it was reallylights out, see you later. Sleep was a black hole. If he dreamed, he never remembered it. As a child his Ma could count on him never to wake up while she entertained her customers.

Sure, who wanted to hear their Ma riding half the town through an inch of plywood sheeting? But once Absalom had woken up to a man’s hands down his pants. His Ma was passed out drunk or high or whatever. He stuck the bastard in the ear with the skewer he kept under his pillow and all hell broke loose. The next day she kicked him out. Thirteen, he’d been. Or was it eleven? As a man, Absalom preferred to sleep in short bursts, with an alarm next to his ear. About three to four hours a day.

Without turning around he felt Lorrie’s stare on his back.

“You still haven’t told me what’s happening tomorrow,” she said. “Or why we need to be hiding up here when we could be downstairs dancing or having a drink.”

“You don’t drink,” he pointed out.

“But I do dance.”

“Well, I don’t.”

Lorrie laughed shortly. “We used to dance all the time.”

“Yeah. Privately.”

“I guess I know the reason why.”

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