Dusty "THAT DUMBASS THAT SLEPT WITH COBY" Baker (dusty_storm) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-01-14 23:15:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-06-30 |
Don't waste your energy making apologies
Who: Dusty and Gareth
When: Tuesday | 3:30am
Where: Their trailer, where else? They don't ever leave it.
Gareth stared at the mailbox as though it had mutated and grown legs. His brow was drawn in an expression of bewildered confusion, his lips were parted, mouth hanging slack and dumbfounded and one hand hovered in mid air, reaching for the latch. In the time they had lived at the trailer, they'd only received bills, electricity, water, the like. What sat in the metallic semi-dome now was larger than a bill, the envelope wide and fat, like a hallmark card. It was stamped with more than half a dozen "return to sender" marks, the red ink blaring against the white paper. It was crinkled and bent, some parts smudged with a nameless black that looked like faded ink. His full name was emblazoned across the front of the envelope in a shaky print that he recognized from the grocery lists and brief notes of his childhood. Finally, gathering his courage, his hand bridged the gap and grasped the letter, pulling it out and making his way into the trailer. His legs felt weak, shaky -- the same feeling one got after a near car accident, or before going on stage for the first time. He took a deep breath and held the mail up for Dusty to see. "We got a letter from home."
Dusty looked up from the couch as Gareth entered. "I could hear yer heartbeat a mile off," he said, cutting the other man off before he'd even finished talking. "So what? Toss it out. We don't need to read it or nothin'. Ain't like it'd be important." Dusty turned back to the television, clicking the buttons to find something he wanted to watch. The volume was up a little too loud, as was his way, and he went back to business as usual as though the letter had never even existed. He certainly had no desire to hear about back home in Texas.
"D... look how many times it been sent. It's from my ma. Looks like she been tryin' to find us... hard..." He bit at his lower lip before making his way over to the couch, taking a seat beside his friend and turning the envelope over in his hands. "Maybe we should just read it. It might be like important. Maybe one'a my brothers died, or maybe she won the lottery 'r somethin'." He hesitated for a long moment and then ripped open the paper. Two pages of scrawled chicken-scratch tumbled into his lap and he held them up, brow still drawn. "Son, things has... things have been... shit, D. Read these to me. Please?"
Dusty heaved a sigh as Gareth sat down next to him, feeling the shift on the couch in time with the creak that met his ear. "Yer damn annoyin', Gare." It was said with mild distaste, but he reached out to snatch the papers out of the other man's hands anyway. "No wonder you can't read this shit. What the hell is wrong with your ma? She fuckin' retarded or somethin'?" He ran a hand over his head and scanned the first page briefly, going back to the first words to start reading:
"Son, things has been real hard lately. Your brother Mike and I have been tryin' to find you ever since Mr. Baker was murdered. Did you hear about it? Do you still talk to his son? He didn't show up for the funeral and there is talk that he might have murdered him. It were real bloody, body parts was missin' and the newspaper says he was tortured real bad before he was actually killed. There was no sign of the killer. I know you doing the hunting thing and got some money and I could use some now, things is hard, like I said. Zack and Mikey moved back with me, they lost their jobs and if you could give me some money I would thank god for it. If you still talk to Ronnie's son you should tell him what happened to his dad. The local cops have wanted him for questioning for a while now."