Our Infinite Sadness

Procrastination

Ben had gone to bed comparatively early, not five minutes after his pep talk from Zoey, and had lapsed into a deep sleep within moments, so he awoke so early that he had time for a morning workout, which he lost himself in happily until he heard Charlie moving above him, in the kitchen.

Charlie wouldn't let him shower.

"Sit down, sit down. Got'cha all set up, eggs and bacon." He wore a frilly pink apron that said, Men Make the Best Cooks, and fortunately so, since with typical impatience he had the heat on far too high, and boiling oil spattered in every direction.

"Good thing you guys got out of Port Angeles when you did. What a mess. It'll be in the news all day."

"What will?" Ben asked, ashen.

"Some turf thing. Out on the runway service road. Four casualties. Three survivors. Lucky to be alive."

"Shot?"

"Nah, run off the road, through a guardrail, down an embankment. Rammed off the road, more like, by something big. They're all busted up, and they won't say a word about what happened. They're all chained to their beds, though, under guard by Federal marshals. Got 'em dead to rights. Their truck was packed with loot they've snatched in home invasions all the way from Nevada, through California and Oregon."

"Wow. Sounds like someone did Port Angeles a favor."

Charlie boomed, "Hah! That's one way of looking at it. Only, whoever knocked'em down a peg has to be a hundred times worse. I mean, as for the other guy... Jesus almighty, never seen anything like it."

"What happened?

"We don't honestly know. The running theory is, he was beaten half to death with lead pipes. Then he was dragged head first by a car, for a mile and a quarter down the service road. I know. Gruesome. Not much left from the neck up, and not a single fingerprint was retrievable, but they salvaged his lower jaw, and they ID'd him late last night off dental records. Serial killer and rapist. Wanted across half the country. So, yeah. Port Angeles is a lot safer tonight. Still. That's the kind of mayhem you just don't find out here. I left the big city to get away from that kind of evil."

"Listen, Dad. Thanks for breakfast. I'd better go shower."

"Sure thing, kid. I'll tidy up, probably be gone before you towel off. Do your old man a favor. Stick close to home for the next few days."

"Okay, Dad. I will."

"Good man."

_____

Ben came downstairs showered and dressed, to a clean, empty kitchen. He stood at the counter and took his first proper look outside, oddly eager to face the day. The view from the kitchen window was foggy and dark, a brooding, somber pall over the trees, with heavy, bruised clouds hanging low overhead like tidal waves rolling in to crash. Absolutely perfect. She would have no reason to miss school today. And she had promised that she would show up. She had a compelling incentive to do so: he in turn had pledged to share his theory with her.

The pledge didn't trouble him. He wanted it off his chest. He wanted the walls down. He wanted to be right, and he wanted her to acknowledge that, so that she could begin the painstaking process of lowering some barriers of her own. Well, he couldn't truly expect that or even reasonably hope for it, but he could only do everything in his own power to clear away some of the impediments.

He wondered about his commitment to his own theory, in the harsh glare of morning. Charlie had called the horrific vigilantism in Port Angeles last night an act of evil.