The Mourning Tree

"So, you did..."

"I hear tell Holly Mansfield invited you to the Halloween carnival tonight."

Nathan nearly spilled his coffee as he tried to take a drink.

"How in the Hell did you hear about that?"

"She mentioned it to Rona Bradley at the shoe store this morning. There are few secrets in a small town, my boy. Here I was worried about sending you out there because Holly might tear you a new one, and you end up with a date."

"It's not a date," insisted Nathan.

"Did you get a good look at Holly? If I were you, I would be hoping it was a date."

"She was just being friendly..."

"Holly is never just being anything. If she invited you, then she wanted you there, just as sure as the Sun revolves around the Earth."

"You're are just full of fun little witticisms."

"It's part of my charm. How do you think I got re-elected four times?"

"I figured it was because you look like Santa Claus without a beard."

"That doesn't hurt," admitted the Sheriff.

A police cruiser pulled up to the sidewalk where they stood. Gary Hammond was driving, and he rolled the window down.

"Hey, Sheriff."

"Gary. Anything to report?"

"No sign of Travis anywhere. I questioned some of his buddies at the dairy farm, but they didn't have much to say."

"Yeah, I figured. What about that vandalism call yesterday?"

"It was like we thought. Kids were trying to get into the bus barn to spray paint lewd crap on the buses. Typical Halloween high jinks."

"O.K. Keep your ear to the ground and let us know if you turn anything up."

"Will do," replied the deputy as he pulled away.

"You know the ironic thing? It was Greg Talbot who used to be the worst about breaking into the bus barn. He was always trying to spray paint giant penises on the sides of the buses. I think he was overcompensating for something," said the sheriff with a hearty laugh.

Nathan joined him, thinking of pranks he had pulled in his youth.

"Why don't we head over to talk to Nate Filby at the lumber yard. Travis did some odd jobs for him there during his return."

The lumber yard turned out to be just as big a bust as all their other attempts at getting information, and Nathan ended up parting company with the sheriff to return to his hotel for dinner before driving himself back into town around the time of the carnival.

Holly hadn't been kidding when she said the whole town would be at this event. The playground behind the small elementary school was crowded with town folk and their families. Children, many of them in costume for the season, ran in all directions between the booths that had been set up to sell baked goods or offering carnival games. A Ferris wheel turned in the middle of the field, with a few other small rides nearby, and vendors hawked everything from cotton candy to popcorn balls. Everything was decorated in orange and black for Halloween, and Nathan had to shake off a chill at the sight of at least one child in the same costume that Jonah had favored.

"Hey! I'm glad you made it," said Holly appearing from out of the crowd with Sam close on her heels.

"I decided to take your advice and blow off some steam," said Nathan forcing a smile onto his face.

"Great! Then come with me. I am assuming you know how to shoot and that no good, cheating, shooting gallery vendor has rooked me out of my hard-earned money for the last time. We are going home with the biggest stuffed bunny he's got!"

Holly grabbed him by the arm dragging him with almost childish enthusiasm toward the makeshift midway. As he walked alongside her, the scent of her perfume teased his nose and proved to be very distracting. Even worse was the outfit she was wearing, a loose-fitting cotton dress that showed off her slender legs, and plunged low enough in the front to give anyone who cared to look a decent view of her perky breasts. Though she wasn't big on wearing a lot of makeup, her smooth skin didn't need it, and her pink lips shined with just a hint of gloss. They arrived at the booth in question, and Nathan quickly proved his worth knocking down nearly every target he aimed at and making Holly the proud owner of a gigantic, stuffed rabbit.

"I take it you're a fan of rabbits?"

"Guilty. I had a pet rabbit for a while as a kid, and I've always had a fondness for them."

"It's a good thing you live on so much land. This one is big enough to need his own house."

Sam offered to carry it, but it was nearly bigger than he was, and despite his best efforts, he ended up tripping over it multiple times before Nathan took it to tuck under one arm.

"Any luck finding Travis?" asked Holly as they waited in line for cotton candy.

"Nope. The folks around here haven't exactly been forthcoming, but it's just as likely he isn't here at all."

"Think of it this way. At least the trip isn't a total waste. You will get a chance to try the best-barbecued brisket sandwich in all of central Texas."

While Sam stuffed his face with cotton candy, Nathan tried the aforementioned sandwich, and indeed declared it one of the finest ever to pass his lips. Afterward, they took Sam from booth to booth letting him take a turn at trying to win a prize for himself.

At a milk bottle pitch, Holly gave it a shot, but was overthrowing badly missing the lower half of the bottles and just taking out the top one on multiple throws.

"You need to throw for the bottom instead of the middle and not so hard like you're trying to knock them into orbit. Strength doesn't count as much as you think at this game," offered Nathan.

When she missed again and hissed in anger, Nathan stepped up impatiently, putting one hand on her hip and showing her how to line up her throw with the ball in her other hand.

"Free and easy..." he whispered toward her ear, "you don't have to kill them."

They followed through together, and the balls exploded into a pile on the ground.

"Holy Shit! Look at that!" shouted Holly.

"Told you," said Nathan backing away and feeling more than a little self-conscious at so boldly putting his hands on Holly. He hadn't so much as shaken a woman's hand since Cindy's passing, and being so close to Holly brought back feelings he hadn't experienced in a long time.

"I've never been so successful at one of these carnivals."

"Yeah...uh...Glad I could help," replied Nathan awkwardly.

The trio made their way over to the bandstand, where a local group was cranking out some music. An area in front had been roped off for a dance floor, and couples twirled around in time to the songs.

The band switched to a slow one for their next number, and Holly threw a look over at Nathan.

"Isn't it polite for the gentlemen to ask the lady if she would like to dance?"

"Oh...Uh...Sure...I take it you want to dance?"

"Wow! You know how to sweep a girl off her feet."

"I'm kind of out of practice at this..." said Nathan quietly.

"It's o.k I don't bite," said Holly taking his hand.

"You stay right here, Sam, we'll be right back."

Sam parked himself on the stuffed rabbit's big feet as Holly and Nathan moved out into the dancing area. Nathan put his arms around Holly's waist, and she, in turn, slipped her arms around his neck as they started to sway to the music. Things were a little unsettling for him. He hadn't danced with a woman since Cindy's birthday party two years earlier, but slowly he relaxed.

"Am I making you nervous?" asked Holly suddenly.

"No...I mean...maybe, a little, yeah. I haven't done anything like this since...since Cindy died, but this is nice. I'm enjoying myself. I'm glad you invited me," offered Nathan struggling to put his feelings into words and falling back on clichés.

"I can come on a little strong when I like someone. I know that given what you've been through, that may not be such a good thing. You might not be ready..."

She let the question hang in the air, and Nathan cleared his throat, buying time, searching inside for an answer.

"Honestly, I haven't thought about it until now. Meeting you out here was...unexpected...I like this though...being here with you. I like this very much."

"Good," said Holly stepping a little closer so he could feel the heat coming off her body.

"Is that a gun in your pocket?" she asked.

He looked startled for a second at her bawdy joke, but seeing the teasing light in her eyes, he realized she was trying to break the tension, and he laughed.

"Nah...I left it in the car."

The both laughed together, and he pulled her closer still, trying to show her that this was alright, that he wasn't uncomfortable with what was happening.

The music played on, and for the first time since arriving, Nathan forgot that it was Halloween, forgot his sadness, and got lost in Holly's gorgeous eyes.

He regretted when the music finally stopped, and they were both abruptly pulled back into the here and now.

Holly smiled and looked over to the side of the dance floor to see a lone stuffed rabbit and no sign of Sam.

"Darn it! I told that kid to stay put!" she said, leaving Nathan's arms to go in search of her wayward son.

"We probably shouldn't have left him alone," said Nathan.

"He'll be fine. Everyone knows everyone here. As soon as they realize I'm not with him, they'll hold onto him until I show up. I'm more worried about him sneaking off with a bunch of candy. He'll get such a sugar high I'll never get him to bed tonight."

"We should split up and cover more ground. Meet me back at the Ferris wheel in fifteen minutes."

Holly nodded, moving off into the crowd.

Nathan wandered back up the midway, a slow, burning panic gripping his heart. In spite of what Holly had said, it was tough to look on a missing kid as a small thing. He imagined how he would have felt if it had been Jonah, and those thoughts quickly made him grow more frantic inside, his eyes darting everywhere. When he spotted Sam at last, his heart skipped a beat.

The young boy was standing on the street corner by the crosswalk next to the school. Cars drove back and forth through the intersection, and Sam's feet were just inches from the white lines.

"No!" cried Nathan breaking into a dead run.

He headed toward Sam, but he wasn't seeing him any longer. He was seeing a small boy in a werewolf costume clinging to his mother, feet poised to step into the intersection, his mind on candy and fun not realizing he was taking the last steps he ever would.

Sam turned as Nathan bore down on him, the loud cries of the big adult scaring him into freezing in place until the bigger man jerked him away from the corner, grabbing him roughly by the arms.

"What's a matter with you! You could get killed! Cars everywhere and they can't see...they can't see you until it's too late!" yelled Nathan shaking the small boy in his grasp, "dammit, Jonah! Are you listening to me!"

Sam burst into tears, scared and desperately trying to pull away from the stranger that held him.

People from nearby tables heard the commotion and came running.

"What's going on here?" asked a tall, blond-haired man who arrived first.

"Answer me! Why would you go into the street!" snapped Nathan.

"I wasn't...I wasn't in...I wasn't going to go..." cried Sam.

Suddenly Holly was there snatching her son from Nathan with surprising strength.

"What's a matter with you, Nathan! You're hurting him!"

Nathan took a staggering step back, the scene slowly coming into focus, "I'm sorry...I thought Jonah was going to go into the street...I'm sorry."

"It's o.k. Sam," soothed Holly stroking his hair, "Jesus, Nathan...Whose Jonah?"

Nathan's eyes darted around at the unfriendly faces staring back at him.

"I'm sorry...I thought Jo...Sam... Sam was going to go into the street..."

He wiped a hand across his eyes.

"I need to go. I'm sorry, Sam...Holly...I need to go."

Holly looked up in surprise as Nathan ran across the intersection and down the street, getting into his car and peeling away in a cloud of white smoke.

He had started driving toward the hotel, heart hammering in his chest, but ended up pulling over after a few miles onto the shoulder, letting his breathing slow.

"What the Hell, Nathan!" he shouted at himself.

After all this time, he had thought that it was finally getting behind him, and then in one blinding second; it had all come crashing back down again. Jonah dead on the ground. His son gone forever.

He sat for what seemed like an eternity, but was more like ten minutes before finally starting the engine again and putting his car in gear. The road back to the hotel was mostly deserted, but one thing did stand out to his wandering eyes, and instead of going back to his room, he pulled into a parking lot lit by a bright neon sign that read, "Bob's Joint."

The old pub smelled like stale beer and pretzels as Nathan pushed his way through the doors and hobbled over to the long oak bar, perching himself on a stool. There were maybe two dozen others in the place, all locals, a couple of men in the corner shooting a game of pool.

"What can I get ya?" asked the greasy-looking bartender his t-shirt covered in stains.

"Whiskey...straight," mumbled Nathan staring down at the shiny wood.

A shot glass seemed to magically appear filled with amber liquid. He took it in one hand, watching the light play off the glass as he held it in front of him. In the reflection of the alcohol, he fancied he could see the face of a small, scared little boy.

"Jonah...I'm sorry I wasn't there...I should have been there..." he whispered as tears burned in the corners of his eyes.

The smell of the cheap booze filtered up top him, called to him, but he hesitated.

"Dammit!" he snapped, sitting the glass back down.

This wasn't going to bring Jonah back, and hiding from the pain had gotten him nowhere. He knew that all too well.

"I'm not my father...I'm not my father..." he repeated to himself like a mantra.

"You o.k. Pal?" asked the bartender.

"Hey, Bob! How's about a refill while I'm young, huh?" said a burly, brown-haired man with a crooked nose who had come over to the bar from a nearby table.

"Yeah...Yeah...Keep your shorts on, Smitty."

The man with the crooked nose, Smitty, waited impatiently watching Nathan with growing recognition.

"Hey...aren't you that big city cop that's trying to put Travis away?"

Nathan turned slowly, barely registering the accusatory tone in the other man's voice.

"Just...doing my job..." he managed to get out.

"Is that right? Why don't you arrest some real criminals? I bet you Houston's got plenty! You should leave our boy alone."

Two more men joined the first, both just as large and equally as ugly.

"What's the story, Smitty?"

"This here is the asshole that's trying to put Travis away."

"Yeah...That right, Boy? You know that man is a hero in this neck of the woods. Best quarterback ever to play the fucking game!"

A few grunts of agreement sounded around the room.

"It was 2A football in Slap Out, Texas, not the fucking Rose Bowl," said Nathan.

The whole bar dropped into silence, even the jukebox that had been sounding off loud enough to drown out half the people talking suddenly sounded tiny and far away.

"What the fuck did you just say?" said Smitty stepping closer.

"I said that Travis Coleman was a small-time quarterback who turned into a no-good thief, and I'm going to put his ass far away. What do you think of that you ugly fuck?"

Nathan would admit later that he purposely brought on that fight to keep his nose out of a whiskey bottle, but as cures for alcoholism go, it wasn't one likely to catch on.

He awoke the following morning, looking up at an unfamiliar ceiling and with a pain in his head that made it feel like the whole thing was about to drop off his body and onto the floor.

"Well, look whose up. Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!" laughed Sheriff Sandusky.

Nathan sat up slowly, holding his head in his hands, and looking around at the steel bars that surrounded him.

"What happened?" he moaned through his fingers.

"You, Sir, tried to take on three men at the same time. Which, I have to say, was a ballsy move on your part, but, ultimately, unsuccessful. You're lucky that Bob called us in because those boys were about to use you for a piñata with a pool cue for the stick."

"It feels like they did..."

"You know, Nathan, you have an interesting investigative method. Come into town, piss off just about everyone while wooing the prettiest girl in the place. Actually, that sounds like every action cop movie I've ever seen, so never mind."

"Am I under arrest?"

"Oh, Lord, No! That kind of paperwork would keep me busy until doomsday. Nope, I just locked you up so you could have a safe night's sleep, and get over the beating you took. If it makes you feel better, you did do a number on old Smitty. I think you broke his nose again, which would be the fourth time that little gem has been cracked."

Nathan climbed to his feet, swaying slightly as a wave of dizziness past over him.

"If you can pull yourself together, Rocky, I got the warrant for Imogene's place."

"I'll be fine, just give me a minute."

The police station lavatory was clean as a whistle making it clear that despite his laid back manner, Sheriff Sandusky was a stickler for detail. Nathan looked at his face in the mirror, happy to see that other than a cut above his left eye and a dark bruise on his cheekbone, he was otherwise in pretty good shape up top. The same couldn't be said of his ribcage that was peppered with bruises and felt like he had been beaten with a bat.

"Serves me right..." he thought absently while dabbing at the blood around his eyebrow.

Given how fast gossip moved around this small town, Nathan was sure the sheriff already knew about the incident at the Halloween carnival, but if he did, he was polite enough not to bring it up as the pair drove back out to Imogene Talbot's old house. She answered the door in a more subdued manner this time.

"Fucking chemo..." she mumbled, staggering back as the two men entered.

"We have a warrant to search these premises," stated the sheriff formally.

"I can read, Fat Boy. Knock yourself out," she snapped weakly, retreating to her living room to sit in a rickety-looking reclining chair.

The two men separated with Nathan taking the upstairs. No matter how many warrants like this he executed, it always made him feel uncomfortable going through someone's private residence and even more so when he entered their bedroom. The one he stood in now must have been Travis's at one time. Football trophy's lined the top of a cherry wood dresser, and on the nightstand next to the bed was a photo of Travis in his jersey.

Nathan picked it up, running his finger across the handsome face of the young man whose easy-going smile and bright eyes spoke of a happy future they would never see. He wondered for a minute whether those eyes had stared into his father's face when that same man, the one who should have protected him from everything, had battered him with furious blows.

"He used to lock him in the closet," came Imogene's weak voice from behind him.

Nathan placed the picture down and turned around, wondering if Imogene Talbot counted mind reading among her talents.

"When I would be away at work, Willard would bring women to the house sometimes. Travis was only three or four, and Willard would lock him in the closet to keep him out of the way. If he made too much noise, well, you can imagine what happened then."

"You got him away. That's what matters."

"Not soon enough...I was scared...I should have been braver."

"Mrs. Talbot. I don't want to hurt your son, but I have to find him."

"I honestly don't know where he is, but I hope you don't. Travis wasn't built for prison, and whatever happened in that jewelry store, I know he didn't mean for it too. He's suffered enough in his life, Detective."