AMERICAN GOTHIC:EYE FOR AN EYE by Thomas Staab It's a sunny, breezy April morning in Trinity and Lucas Buck is in a good mood. "Howdy Clem." He called out the window as he cruised down Main Street to his office. "How's the Rheumatism?" Clem, an elderly man with a bowed back and a few too many pounds on him, was sitting on a bench playing chess with another man. He waved to Lucas with a broad smile on his plump, wrinkled face. "Just fine, Lucas. That friend `a yours fixed me up just fine!" "Glad to hear it." Lucas drove two blocks more, exchanging the odd "hello" with the passing citizenry. My People, he thought, opening the door to the Sheriff's Office. And now, finally, everything's back under control. Lucas would never say it out loud, Hell, he was loathe to admit it to himself, but ever since dear Merlyn Temple's demise events in Trinity had come uncomfortably close to getting out of hand. "But all that's better now." He whispered to himself. "Into every life a little rain must fall." He didn't mind that...as long as he was the one making it rain. "Mornin' Ben." Ben Healy, wearing his usual look of weariness, glanced up from his paper work and gave Lucas a sorry smile. "Lucas." Lucas' eyes narrowed to slits as he approached his deputy. He grazed over Ben's mind to see if he was hiding anything, but all Lucas found was Ben's usual resentment and cowardice. Business as usual, Lucas thought smugly. "Somethin' troublin' you Ben?" Lucas walked around the desk and stopped at the door leading to his office. "It's a beautiful day out, my town and its people are in order and all's right with the world." Lucas held out his hands, palms up. "Things've never been better." Ben managed a more convincing smile and nodded resignedly, "You're right Lucas...everything's peachy." Lucas was starting into his office when Ben coughed. "Oh...uh...I almost forgot," Ben swallowed, looked around the room nervously, then back at Lucas. "A letter came for you. I put it on your desk." Ben's voice had a slight tremor in it. Anyone else would have missed it, but Lucas picked it up. "Is it business?" the Sheriff asked, although he knew from Ben's face that it wasn't. Ben shook his head with his eyes closed, "Personal." Lucas' smile shrivelled into a tight line. The muscles in his face writhed like angry serpents under his skin as he clenched his jaw. Without another word, the Sheriff charged into his office and slammed the door behind him, sending a hairline crack through the frosted glass in its frame. "Hell." Ben muttered. Floyd slinked up to Ben, keeping his eyes riveted to Lucas' door and crouched beside the deputy. Ben almost smacked Floyd across the head with his gun when he grabbed Ben's shoulder. "What's wrong with Lucas? I've never seen anyone change moods like that." Floyd's voice was hushed and awed as if he were talking about ghosts in a graveyard. Ben looked at him squarely. The Deputy was clearly irritated by the question and the dramatic way it had been posed, but he kept his voice below a whisper as well. "Lucas doesn't get personal mail. The fact that he did is out of the norm..." Ben shook his head, like someone who can see a car wreck coming before it happens. "And Lucas doesn't like things out of the norm." Lucas stormed down the short corridor connecting his office to the outer building. He shoved the door open and quickly surveyed the room as if he expected an attack from all sides. When he spotted the envelope, standing out pristine white on the backdrop of his blotter, Lucas descended on it like an owl on a field mouse. All the envelope said was; Sheriff Lucas Buck. No return address. No hint of who it was from. "I hate mysteries." He growled as he seized the paper. He felt something slither and rattle within the enclosure. "The Hell...?" Lucas ripped open one side of the envelope and tilted it toward his open palm. A tiny gold charm, circular and covered with filigree, landed in his hand. A chain trailed out after it, puddling around the locket. On the top was an inscription: To C.B. with all my love. C.B. A snarl rose in Lucas' throat as the rage inflamed his blood. He slammed open the door so hard it popped off its hinges, bounced off the wall and fell to the floor with a crash. Broken glass and splinters rose in the air like grit in a windstorm. "BEN!" Ben was in the hall before Lucas could draw enough breath to call him again. Lucas looked at Ben so hard the larger man staggered back. Lucas held the envelope up, stuffing the locket into the right pocket of his trench coat. "Who delivered this?" Lucas asked with a voice like a snake crawling over rice paper. Ben stammered and couldn't meet the Sheriff's eyes. "Ben..." Lucas' voice was growing more guttural by the second. He stalked closer to Ben, forcing the larger man back against the wall. He waved the paper bearing his name under Ben's nose. "This wasn't mailed, it was hand delivered. Now...Who. Did. It?" "I-I don't know." Ben winced. He knew how much Lucas hated hearing that. "Ben, you know how much I hate hearing that." Lucas took a step back and composed himself. Ben's shoulders slumped and he exhaled with relief. "I came in this morning, turned my back to start the coffee brewin'" Ben glanced at Lucas timidly from under his brow. "And when I turned back that was sittin' on my desk." Lucas skewered Ben with his eyes. "And no one else was around?" Ben lifted his head and faced Lucas, "I'm the first one in." Now that it looked like he wasn't going to die, yet, Ben managed to scrape together a little backbone. "What is it?" he asked with only a slight tremor. Lucas took a lighter out of his pocket and lit the edge of the envelope. "A part of the past that should've stayed buried." Lucas' voice was distant and thoughtful as he watched the paper being consumed. "There're only a handfulla people who'd know about this." Ben leaned forward, but was reluctant to speak. He wasn't sure if Lucas was speaking to Ben or himself. "Think I'll go interview some suspects." Lucas dropped the burning remnants of the envelope to the floor. "Clean that up." he said brushing past Ben. "And do somethin' about that door." Ben watched Lucas leave, then saw Floyd gaping at him. "Well," Ben sighed, "You heard `im, get Andy on the phone and tell `im another door fell off." Ben ducked around the corner, grabbed a broom and dustpan and walked humbly back to sweep up the ashes. Lucas decided against using the cruiser to see Selena at the Hospital. He needed air. There aren't that many people who know enough about me to send this, Lucas mused, cupping the charm in his pocket without realizing it. And even fewer who'd know how much it'd irk me. There weren't many folks in Trinity, or in the world for that matter, who had both intimate knowledge of Lucas and an ax to grind. The list was small and all the suspects were in Trinity. And Selena Coombs was at the top of the list. Especially with her recent medical troubles, Lucas thought with a sneer. It wasn't solely the irony of Selena's condition that amused him, but the fact that Gail had approved when she'd heard the news. "I hope the bitch dies during surgery." Miss Emory had hissed. The formerly azure sky was being swallowed by deep grey thunderheads. Birds that had been signing gayly in the trees along Main Street sensed the approaching storm and sought out shelter. "Howdy Cecile, how're those Chrysanthemums comin' along? Flower Show's only a week away." Cecile, a portly middle aged woman sweeping leaves in the gutter outside her shop, The Flower Factory, met the Sheriff with a beaming smile. "Oh, there the most beautiful bunch yet, Sheriff. My pride and joy." "Look forward to givin' `em a Blue Ribbon." Lucas and Cecile parted with a wave. It's like I told Caleb; Know what's closest to a person's heart, what they cherish above all else, that way, if they ever get outta line you can take it from them. Now it looked like someone was using that little axiom against him. Lucas spotted the stairs to the Hospital and felt the anger at his unexpected gift rekindle. This's one mutt who doesn't take a slap on the nose lightly, he seethed mounting the steps and entering the lobby. "Hiya Shirley." Lucas called walking to the reception desk. "Do you know if Ms. Coombs is entertaining?" "No." Shirley's pretty face wrinkled and she smiled awkwardly. "But both she and Dr. Peele asked that you specifically not be allowed to see her." Lucas feigned shock and slapped his right hand over his heart, his exaggerated expression of surprise earned a chuckle out of Shirley. "How have I offended?" Lucas rested an elbow on the counter and leaned in conspiratorially. "Now you give it to me straight, darlin'," he whispered, "Is it my cologne?" Shirley giggled and brushed a strand of golden hair out of her eyes. "No sir." She said with a hint of a laugh. "The Doctor said he thought it would just help Ms. Coombs if she had her rest. To be honest, you're the first person who's wanted to see her." It was Shirley's turn to look around for sharp ears, her soft, sweet voice was low, "If you ask me Sir, I think she's kind of a slut." Lucas looked genuinely startled, but inside he thought, Darlin', you haven't been in Trinity long, have you? Shirley waved her hands wildly in the air upon seeing Lucas' reaction, "That's just what I've heard though!" Her face fell into a masque of pleading. "Please don't tell anyone I said that." "Darlin'," Lucas said taking Shirley's right hand between his and patting it lightly. "Your secret's safe with me." Lucas stood back, placing both hands on the counter. "And although I would never dream of disobeying the Doctor's orders, or Ms. Coombs wishes, this's official business. Anything happens...I take full responsibility. Okay?" Shirley looked a little wary, then broke into a smile. "Go right on in Sheriff." Lucas strutted down the hall to room 206, greeting the odd patient along the way. His friendly facade vanished the moment he reached Selena's private room. Without breaking stride Lucas blew through the open doorway. Selena Coombs lay in her bed watching the television attached to a bracket two feet from the ceiling. Her normally impeccable appearance was a shambles as she stared indifferently at a soap opera. Her hair was lank and stringy and as it hung around her pallid face. "I sure hope you feel better then you look Ms. Coombs." Lucas said flatly. He gathered up the charm sitting in his pocket and gripped it tightly as he strolled to her bedside. "Hate to think you're suffering that much." "Spare me your concern Lucas," Selena said hoarsely. "And get out." "I know you've had a lot of stress lately, what with the hysterectomy n' all..." Selena's eyes squeezed shut, she smeared the tears that managed to escape down her cheeks. "Hope you got my flowers." Lucas' voice was devoid of malice or sympathy. Selena snarled, grabbed a glass of water on a nearby tray and pitched it at Lucas. The Sheriff dodged it without flinching, the tumbler shattered on the wall behind him, showering the linoleum with glass and water. "You did this to me!" she growled. "Now why would I do somethin' like that darlin'?" he inquired with a quizzical look. "For Gail losing your little bastard!" Selena fairly spat the words. She tried to sit up, but the pain in her midsection kept her down. She's got the motive, Lucas thought, but not the means. "Fibroids are common in older women, can't blame me for everything." Lucas pulled the locket from his pocket. "Now to the business at hand," he dangled the small gold object at the end of its chain. "You don't happen to know anything about this would you? I can see you can't get around on your own, but maybe your little lapdog Billy did a little diggin' for you." At first Selena looked at the locket with irritation, then her eyes widened when she saw the inscription. "Well, well, well," she said, her voice finding a small measure of its old smolder. "Looks like someone's finally found a way to hurt you." "Oh I'm not hurt darlin'" Lucas hissed, bearing down on the bedridden woman. "I'm angry. This..." He lifted his fist clutching the locket. "Means that someone's violated my property. This is a slap in the face...and you of all people know how much I hate that." Selena turned her eyes from Lucas and chose instead to gaze out the window. The breeze that had caressed the trees earlier had turned harsh and was battering the glass in its frame. "I didn't have anything to do with this Lucas." An amateur at the art of reading people might have misinterpreted Selena's reluctance to make eye contact as an attempt to conceal a lie. Lucas was no amateur. She's telling the truth. She's too broken to rebel. Selena just didn't want him to see how broken she was. "I wish I did though. I wish I could cut you as deeply as you cut me." Selena folded her pale arms over her chest, ignoring the trickle of water from her eyes. Lucas' face lost some of its edge and he returned the locket to his coat. "Now Selena honey, when you set Gail up for that fall," Lucas took Selena's chin in the crook of his hand and turned her to face him. "You had to know I was gonna do something." "You were dead." "You thought that would stop me?" Lucas lowered his hand and turned to go. "Gail can still have children." Selena hissed. "Never said I was a fair man darlin'" he continued talking as he exited the room. "Just a vengeful one. Hell, Lucas seethed as he walked down the hall to the lifts, if it ain't her, who else could it be? Just then Dr. Billy Peele stepped off the elevator. His face turned stony when he set eyes on the Sheriff. "Doctor." Lucas said flatly. "Sheriff." As Lucas turned to board the elevator, he considered Billy for a moment. "Nah." he muttered to himself. I've known tomatoes that can outwit that guy. The drab overhead fluorescents lit Lucas' face with a ghostly glow. His stern features resembled a flayed skull. Anyone who walked past the lift, upon seeing the Sheriff's fearsome countenance, quickly averted their eyes. After the doors closed, the staff around the elevator sighed with relief. The only other person he could think of with a strong enough motive was the good Dr. Matt Crower. Hmmmm...a good lead, but he was safely stored away in Jupiter House last I checked. Only one thing worried him about Crower (although that might've been a strong choice of words). The good Doctor was getting stronger. Not physically, physical strength didn't mean snot to Lucas, it was Crower's spirit that'd grown stronger. A few few words with the Administrator of the Asylum revealed that the Doctor had taken up meditation to soften his solitude. Maybe he's tryin' to pray his way out. Although Crower was a long way from freedom, as long as he was alive he'd be a raspberry seed in Lucas' wisdom tooth. The Sheriff stalked across the Lobby and into the street. The day had deteriorated during his time in the hospital, the sky was choked with roiling clouds and the wind was strong enough to tear signs loose from their posts. The temperature had dropped at least twenty degrees. The streets were deserted save for a few brave souls. Damn. I've covered every suspect alive... Descending the stairs, Lucas caught sight of Caleb strolling down the street with his friend Boone. Maybe I should start looking into the dead ones. "Afternoon men." The boys jumped at the sound of the Sheriff's voice. "Where you fellas headed?" "We were gonna play baseball," Caleb frowned, "But the weather's all screwy so we're goin' to the movies instead." Lucas flipped out a twenty and held it out to Boone. "Why don't you go run ahead and buy the tickets, I want a word with Caleb." The boys exchanged a wide-eyed glance, shrugged their shoulders and Boone took off down the street to the Trinity Cinema. "Let's sit down a moment son." Lucas rested a hand on Caleb's shoulder and led him to a sidewalk bench. The boughs of the trees lining the street roared as the wind rushed through them. "What's up?" Caleb asked. Lucas, without realizing it, pulled out the locket, the chain clutched tightly in his fist. The locket rested on his thigh. "Have you seen your sister lately?" Caleb's eyes bulged open and his face ran the gamut from quizzical to amused. "No sir, not since that last time." The corner of Caleb's mouth shot up in a smirk. "Y'know, when you threw me off the second floor of your house?" Lucas arched an eyebrow, "Now son, I explained all that. Are you sure there's been no sign of her?" Caleb turned from his father for a moment, looking contemplative. Townsfolk hurried back and forth along the street, scurrying to reach shelter before the rain started. "I think so, but not the way I used to." he looked at Lucas. "I used ta actually see her, now...now I c'n feel her. In ma heart." I'm gonna be sick, Lucas groaned. Am I ever gonna be rid a' this bitch? "`N I hear her too sometimes, like a whisper. `Specially when, as she says, I start actin' too much like you." Lucas grumbled, "No physical manifestations then, huh?" "A wha?" "Never mind." Lucas bounced his hand holding the locket on his leg, the gold chain jingled faintly. "What's that?" "What's wha-" Lucas looked down and finally realized he'd taken out the locket. He grumbled again. In the distance thunder rolled. "It's a locket." Caleb looked at Lucas with irritation. "I know that. Myrlie gave me one once...it had a picture of my Momma in it. Does that have a picture of your Momma?" Lucas was silent for a while. The thunder grew louder. "Yes." He muttered. "Yes it does." "C'n I see?" Lucas looked at Caleb sternly. He hoped the boy would shrink back like everyone else. Caleb met his Father's eyes without flinching. He's my son all right. "Here--" Be careful, he almost said, but caught himself. Caleb took the locket in the palm of his hand and popped it open. Inside was an ancient picture of a pretty brunette woman with long, wavy hair and green eyes. Standing beside the woman was a stern looking man with a severe crew cut and eyes like coal. In the woman's arms (and Caleb had to squint and hold the locket up to his face to see this clearly) was a baby bundled in a blue blanket. Caleb chuckled, "Is that you?" Lucas sat back hard, he suppressed a growl. "Yes." I hate this. When I find the sonuvabitch who dug this up I'm gonna use his skull for a bird feeder. "Your Momma was pretty." "Yes." Lucas heard a quality in his voice he didn't like. It sounded soft. "`S funny," Caleb said with a broad grin. "I never pictured you as a baby." "Well, there's yer proof." Lucas had made it a point not to look at the picture in the pendant, but now, in a moment of weakness, he stole a glance. It was all he needed. On the surface, Lucas maintained his cool, indifferent attitude. Inside he felt a fire that had long been cold, spark. KRAAA-KOWWWW!! Caleb jumped where he sat. "You better go join your friend now son. `For the rain starts." Caleb nodded and handed Lucas the open locket. Lucas snapped it shut without another glance. Caleb squinted up at the sky in search of rain, "Are we still goin' fishin' tomorrow?" "You bet. There's still a lot we have to discuss." Lucas watched Caleb run down the barren, wind-swept streets. The Sheriff was the only person left on Main Street. He preferred the cold grey sky, it helped him think. Watching Caleb vanish into the movie house, something dawned on Lucas. "Maybe I'm looking in the wrong generation." he whispered, "If no one from my life sent this...maybe it was someone from The Family's past." Lucas closed his eyes and drew in the crisp, cold air. Behind his eyes the Sheriff saw a wall full of books. All were large, well worn and bore different names on their spines. A volume bearing his name was the last on the shelf, beside it was a tome with the name CHRISTOPHER BUCK. In his mind, Lucas opened the volume possessing his Father's name and absorbed its contents. Ordinarily, he possessed a vague recollection of his ancestors memories, but when he wanted a specific detail from the past, he had to concentrate and cast his mind back. Lucas sat unmoving on the bench, leafing through his Father's life, when his eyes popped open. Lightning flashed. "I got you now." he growled with a predatory smile. Lucas cruised through the labyrinthine roads of the cemetery, finally pulling over at the foot of a steep hill. There was only one tombstone on the slope and it stood at the summit. The Sheriff felt that soft part of himself start to open again and wrapped a mental fist around it before it could flourish. A pair of crows, struggling against the wind, flew parallel to Lucas as he climbed the hill. To his right, stretching from the road up and around the crown of the hill, was a dense cluster of trees. Lucas sensed someone watching him, his nose told him what kind of person it was and his eyes in the trees confirmed his suspicions. Lucas kept his eyes straight, focused on the headstone at the top of the hill. His cold heart beat a little faster. Not from exertion. Lucas could see the mound of earth before he crested the summit. The Rage, which simmered his blood on a good day, rose to a boil. A ragged hole was carved beneath the modest, granite marker, the dirt was tossed pell-mell around it. The closer the Sheriff got, the deeper he could see into the ditch. The faster his heart pounded. The louder the thunder pealed. The angrier the wind howled. Three crows settled beside their brethren on the mound of soil. Lucas could see the epitaph, even from a distance: HERE LIES CYNTHIA BUCK DEVOTED WIFE OF CHRISTOPHER BELOVED MOTHER OF LUCAS AND ... The remainder of the marker was obscured by the misplaced earth. The Sheriff's ears pricked as he caught the sound of his observer following him from behind the tree line. For the moment, Lucas ignored him. "Hello Ma." Lucas whispered to the violated grave. He stepped to the edge of the hole and saw an open casket at the bottom of the pit. The body within, as well as the coffin, was decayed from decades of burial. The skeleton that grinned up at him bore no resemblance to the woman he'd known, save for her long, wavy brown hair. "I know it's been a while...I've been busy with my town `n all." Lucas took out the locket, holding it cupped in his right hand. Four more crows landed on the grass behind the tombstone. "Bringin' up my son's been a thin slice a' Hell too," Lucas glanced down at the gold gleaming in his hand. "But then... I don't have to tell you about that." Lucas felt that softness open in him, and this time he didn't fight it. It wasn't going to last long, he knew it would vanish once the locket was returned to its owner. Lucas got down on one knee before the open grave. "I believe this's yours Ma'am." he said with uncharacteristic warmth. Lucas let the charm run out of his hand and onto his Mother's chest. A sharp wind shot down into the grave, stirring dervishes in the loose soil, and slammed the lid of the coffin shut. "The best part of me died with you." Lucas said standing, the ice returning to his heart. "`N that's where it's gonna stay." A quartet of crows joined the swelling ranks of the ebony birds. Lucas paid them no mind. "You c'n come out now Elmer!" The Sheriff hollered without looking at the woods. No response. "Old man, you sure as Hell don't want me comin' in after you!" A fluid chuckle issued from a yard behind the tree line. A scrawny old man, haunched with time, limped from his place among the trees. In his left hand was a cane, which stirred the leaf littered ground wherever he dragged it. In his right was a silver .38 revolver. "Snotty sonuvabitch, just like yer old man." Elmer coughed- laughed. Lucas turned to face the speaker. Elmer resembled a piece of Beef Jerky left out in the desert sun and grit for a few years. The thin white hair on the old man's head writhed in the wind. "Now who told you about me? Was it your Pappy, or that fine Mama o' yours?" The lecherous look on Elmer's eyes when he mentioned Cynthia Buck made Lucas glad he didn't carry a gun. He'd've killed the bastard where he stood. Lucas wanted him to suffer. "You must be tired of livin' old man." Lucas nodded to the ragged hole beneath his Mother's marker. "To go desecrating my Mother's final resting place." "I desecrated more than that Sonny-Jim." Elmer grinned wide, revealing a mouth full of gleaming teeth. "Or didn't your Pappy tell you `bout that?" Lucas took a step toward the old man. Elmer raised the pistol. "Up! I did my homework on you young Buck. Know you're a cop, so just toss yer gun so's we c'n talk nice `n civil." "I don't carry a gun." Growwwl. Elmer turned in the direction of the snarl, back the way he'd come, from the heart of the woods. Before his eyes could focus on the creature, it clamped its jaws around his right hand and, with a snap of its head, forced the pistol from his grasp. Elmer cried out in pain. He cushioned his mangled hand in the crook of his left arm. He turned to face Lucas. The old man's breath hitched when he saw Lucas' face an inch from his. "I've got other weapons." Elmer stumbled back into a tree. He struggled to look for a weapon or somewhere to run, but Lucas' eyes pinned him down. "I know all about you; I know about what went on between you and my mother, and I know what my Father did to you because of it." The color leeched from Elmer's face as the Sheriff loomed over him. "That glass eye still stickin' in cold weather?" Lucas asked bringing a finger perilously close to Elmer's left eye. The Sheriff lightly kicked the old man's right shin with the tip of his boot. Lucas raised his eyebrows when he heard the hollow TOK-TOK. "Upgraded that old wooden leg, huh?" Elmer struggled to stammer out something, anything, to distract the cop long enough for him to find his gun or raise his cane, but his brain felt like it was being squeezed in a fist of ice. "I have to ask you a question Elmer, What did you hope to accomplish with this stunt? You figure since you're on your last leg you'd take one last shot at the Buck clan for your eye and leg?" Elmer tried to swallow. He felt something skimming over his mind. Something dark. "And since you knew my father wasn't around, his sins would be visited on his son, is that it?" Elmer managed a small nod. Lucas leaned in close, the scent Elmer caught off the man was a mingling of Old Spice, leather and fresh blood. "I know everything about you El-Mur" Lucas spit out the name as if it were something sour on his tongue. "I know what you had for breakfast sixty years ago, what your Mother's maiden name is and what was goin' through your tiny mind while you were in the hospital after my father was through with you. You shoulda paid closer attention to that lesson, Fudd, `cause I'm not as compassionate as my Father." Elmer's throat spasmed as he tried to force out the words, "I..." Lucas raised an eyebrow, his stony face finally cracked with a smile. "Didn't mean any harm? Or were you just evening the scales? Maybe you figured you were so close to death you had nothin' to lose." Elmer was petrified, his heart was beating hard enough to bruise his ribs. Lucas took a pace back and the fire left his eyes. "Y'know, this situation reminds me of a little story I heard in school once." Lucas, with his posture relaxed and his hands in the pockets of his trench coat, strolled casually away from the old man. Elmer glanced around the ground quickly, but he didn't see his pistol anywhere. "`S about a fella called Prometheus. Now this fella wasn't too bright, much like yourself, and he decided to trespass against a god and steal from him." Lucas stopped at Cynthia Buck's open grave and turned. His demeanor was still conversational, as if he were shooting the breeze with an old pal. For some reason...that frightened Elmer even more. "When the god found out about the theft, he took it as an insult. He felt violated. He felt angry." Elmer heard fluttering beside his ear. He turned and saw what must've been three dozen crows perched around him. There could've been more, but their color and proximity made them impossible to count. Elmer tried to push off the tree and make a run down the hill, but a sudden gust of wind descended and pressed him back hard against the bark. The gale caught Lucas from behind, but didn't budge him at all. His hair flew up into a halo around his head, the flaps of his trench coat fluttered like dark wings on his back. "And an angry god is a vengeful god." Lucas wondered around the lip of the grave, maintaining his balance around the ridge despite the wind. He placed a hand on the granite and leaned down. After briefly scanning the ground, he reached down with his free hand and pulled up a mud caked shovel. Elmer stood transfixed, and realized, for the first time, that birds had been gathering around him steadily. They all stared at him with beady black eyes. They were legion. If they stood wing-to-wing across the sky they would obscure the sun. "This god chained Prometheus to a cliff and cursed him. During the day scavengers would tear the flesh from his bones, and every night his flesh would grow back...just to have it stripped off the next day." Lucas rested the shovel on his shoulder, the blade pointed toward the sky. "And this would go on and on and on. Forever. Pretty nasty, huh?" Lucas' smile sank and he looked at Elmer sternly. "Never was much of a story teller though," A dozen crows settled at Lucas' feet, all facing Elmer. "Perhaps I should demonstrate." The crows fell en masse onto Elmer, stuffing his mouth with feathers and talons before he could scream. The following morning in Trinity displayed no sign of the previous night's ungodly weather. The sun was determined to stay in the sky this day and to assure its dominance it banished even the smallest cloud from the sky. Sheriff Buck entered the building whistling and rolling a marble along the back of his knuckles. "Gooood mornin' everyone. Everything quiet around here yesterday Ben?" Ben, with his perpetually creased brow, nodded the affirmative. "Good. I know you'll do just as good a job today while I'm out fishin' with Caleb." "No problem Lucas." I oughtta have that put on a T-shirt, Ben grumbled to himself. Lucas continued whistling and manipulating the marble around his digits as he vanished into his office. "I don't know which is worse." Ben murmured. "When he's in a good mood, or a bad one." Ben didn't dare speak what he thought next, A good mood usually means someone's dead. Lucas sat at his desk, the sun falling in stripes across his blotter. He spun the glittering marble on the varnished desktop. The sphere was spinning when there was a knock at the door. "C'mon in." Caleb entered the office loaded down with a fishing pole and a tackle box. "Ready?" he asked brightly. "Soon's we pick up a few sandwiches we'll be on our way to the lake." Lucas stood and the sphere whirled to a stop, looking straight at Caleb. Caleb's face split with a grin. "What's that?" Lucas did a double-take and casually scooped the glass eye off the deck. "It's one of those novelty marbles. It's yours if you want it." Lucas let the eye roll out of his palm. Caleb caught it to his chest. He held it up between his thumb and forefinger, and laughed at the circle of speckled blue on the orb of white. "Sure, kinda big fer a marble though." "That's how they used to make them in the old days." Lucas said grabbing his fishing rod, then leading Caleb to the door. "Just think of it as a keepsake of times gone by." *** The End ***