Page 36 of Rooster

I grabbed my tool belt from the backseat, then went to track down Torch. I filled him in on Guardrail’s request, and he wasn’t exactly pleased with the news. “Ah, man. You gotta be shittin’ me.”

“We gotta do what we gotta do. No sense bitching about it.”

“Yeah, but why couldn’t they just get a prospect to hang with the guy?”

“I’m sure Guardrail had his reasons. Now, grab your shit, and let’s get to work.”

Torch nodded, then grabbed his things and followed me over to Beckett. He was standing out front, and he looked like a pouting two-year-old as he stood there glaring at all the metal scaffolding and various tools. I got that he was going through some shit, but I didn’t have time to coddle him. “Alright, kid. You need to grab your toolbelt and come with us.”

“Where we going?”

“Upstairs to finish up some drywall.”

“But I don’t know how to do any of this shit.”

“You’ll learn.” I started through the door as I told him, “I’m Rooster, and this is Torch. We’re gonna show you the ropes.”

Beckett mumbled something inaudible as he followed behind me, and I wanted nothing more than to turn around and give him the riot act. Torch, on the other hand, was much more patient than me and was able to keep a calm tone as he told him, "Look, I know this is a lot, and you probably don’t wanna be here, but we got a job to do here. And we could use your help.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

I led him to one of the back rooms that still needed some demolition work. I pointed to the sledgehammer and said, “You take that hammer and start demoing the walls.”

“I thought we were putting up drywall.”

“Torch and I are. You are doing the demo.”

“Whatever.”

Beckett walked over and grabbed the hammer, and fueled by a raw energy, he swung it with reckless abandon, demolishing walls and structures with an almost primal force. Dust and debris scattered in every direction. The once-sturdy walls crumbled under his relentless assault, leaving a mess that mirrored his chaotic temperament.

After a few swings, Beckett glanced over at us and asked, “How’s that?”

“Not bad.”

“Good.”

And just like that, we’d found a use for our moody guest.

It wasn’t what I would call a great day, but Beckett did as he promised and gave it his all. I couldn’t help but think that his visit here might do him some good after all.

For his sake, I hoped it did.

Only time would tell.

Maggie

“What do you think about a lighthouse wedding?" Ryan sounded both excited and apprehensive as she added, “Maybe out at New Dungeness? It’s so beautiful out there, and I love the whole symbolism thing for lighthouses... The beacon of light through the storm.”

“That sounds amazing.”

“You really think so?” Without waiting for a response, she added, “We could do it in the spring just as the weather breaks, and we could put tables out on the lawn and maybe a tent. We could even get someone to come play music during the reception.”

“It sounds like you have it all planned out.”

“No. Far from it.” She sat back in her salon chair with a groan. “Every time I think I’ve come up with the perfect idea, I end up talking myself out of it.”

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