by Chris Draper
Hawk finished speaking and a few seconds later Lucy came back on the line. “All done?”
“Yeah I'm good, I'll stop in when I get back in a few weeks. Thanks Luce.”
“No problem. You take care.”
They disconnected and Hawk closed the phone and looked out the window rubbing his chin. He was trying to think if there was anyone else he had to call and then remembered he'd left his cat Sprinkles with a cat sitter back in San Francisco. He called the sitter who advised him that Sprinkles was doing fine, that she was getting along with the other felines and she would be ready for him when he got back. Hawk had apologized about the lengthy absence and promised her he would clear up any outstanding costs for her care when he returned. After that he called his old police friend Greg back in California. He keyed in the number on the phone and Greg was on the line a second later.
“Hello?” Hearing Greg's voice made him smile. It reminded him of home.
“Hey Greg.”
“Hawk!” He yelped with delight. “Man, what kind of trouble have you got yourself into this time? You know I was out last night with the old lady at a bar and whose mug do I see when I look up at the TV? Haha I couldn't believe it! How are you doing man?”
“I'm good Greg, things were a little shaky here for awhile but I think everything's gonna be okay.”
“So you found the girl then I hear.”
“Yeah, found her and gave her back to Daddio signed, sealed and delivered.”
They shared a laugh.
“That's good to hear. When are you heading back this way?”
“Oh I gotta deal with a few things here, wrap up things with the investigation, you know that sort of thing. Looking at heading back in the next few weeks though. How is everything else?”
“Oh you know, just been doing a bit of work on my boat, getting it fish worthy. You should come by when you're back and we'll crack open a couple.”
“That sounds great. Anyways Greg, just called to check in with you. I'll see you when I get back.”
“Sure thing old man. You take care out there. Ciao.”
Hawk placed the phone back in his shirt pocket then stared out the window at passing downtown Miami in all its summer glory. The city was alive with pretty girls on every corner and the cab passed by several markets swarming with tourists and flamboyant locals alike. Hawk had been a tourist here only a mere week ago – how long ago that now seemed after everything he'd been through. He looked down at the brand still in his arm – still as fresh as the memory of how it got there. Byron was gone and the Devil's Syndicate were history but a part of what had happened here would stay with him forever. He sat back against the leather seat and shut his eyes and for the first time in awhile felt good about things and knew that somehow everything would turn out just fine.
Epilogue
They passed the Aldwell welcome sign 50 minutes later and Hawk eyed the fare meter and saw the driver had been accurate on the cost of the trip: $53.25 plus a tip. He told the driver where the boarding house was and they headed straight into Aldwell.
Hawk saw remnants of Hector's might everywhere: Powerlines were down all over the place with hydro crews working feverishly to restore power to the area and trees had blocked the road in several portions. Twice they had to slow down and wait behind a line of service vehicles while cleanup crews removed debris from up ahead. There was also a large deluge of water built up on the sides of the road that still needed to be drained and worst of all Hawk had seen a few houses that had been left completely gutted from the storm. He watched the morose faces of those now left homeless as they cleaned up their properties and wondered if the boarding house he was heading towards would be in similar shape. The radio had said that hundreds of people were displaced around Southern Florida with many areas still inaccessible. The broadcast had also said that the army had been called in many areas to help with the cleanup and that many businesses were still shut down.
In Miami damage had been minimal, with only a few beach homes seriously damaged and a few minor repairs needed to the buildings facing the Pacific, but out here Hawk couldn't help but feel sorry for these people and their land. He'd also checked in with the park rangers too and learned that most of Abji's village in the Everglades had survived – apparently it had weathered many a storm before and had enough cover in the forest to protect it from major damage. A few houses would need to be rebuilt but there had been no reported casualties.
Hawk recognized the street with the boarding house on it and asked the driver to slow down and they pulled up in front of the old house a minute later and Hawk paid the man and got out. As he did he stepped into a puddle of water at least two inches deep.
The cabbie peered over and grinned. “I sure hope them shoes ain't suede mister or you're gonna get soaked out here. Good luck!" He then slammed the cab door and roared off back in the direction of Miami.
Hawk was still looking down at his shoes. Lucky for him they were only rubber sneakers. He looked up at the boarding house and saw that somehow it had survived the storm relatively unscathed with only two trees glaringly missing from the front yard. Hawk guessed the cleanup crew had already been around to haul them away. The rental car was still there too, miraculously in one piece. Hawk strode up to it and took a closer look. The car was filthy and the sides and windows were caked in a solid mass of muddy water – it would need more than a regular carwash for sure. There were also a few cracks in the windshield, probably from stones being whipped around in the wind. He guessed he'd find more in the body as well after he gave it a wash. As he was inspecting the rest of the car the old caretaker came down from the porch and walked up beside him.
“Miracle your car is still here.” He said looking down at a flat tire on the front. “Had another feller in here about your age a few days ago, one of them trees came down and flattened the entire front hood.” The old caretaker pointed to where the tree had stood and brought his hand down hard on top of the other. “Smack! Just like that and buddy's car was toast.”
“Is that so.” Hawk said still surveying the side of the car.
“But if you need an extra tire I can probably wrestle you one up from around back. My son is an auto scrapper and I think he keeps a few spares in the shed.”
“That would be great, thank you.” Hawk nodded towards the house. “Looks like you were pretty lucky yourself.”
The old man smiled proudly and looked up at the old building. “It'll take more than a storm to bring down that old place. Hell, she's been standing close to 100 years already!”
“You don't say.”
“Suppose you're here to get your stuff then? You were gone awhile and I didn't know if you'd be coming back so I stuck it in a closet up on the 2nd floor landing.”
“Yeah sorry about that, I was away a little longer than expected.” Hawk gave him the remaining rent money in cash then nodded towards the house. “I'll go grab my stuff, won't take too long.”
“Take yer time. I gotta go around back and see about that tire anywho.”
Hawk went inside the house and collected his luggage from the closet and was sure to leave a tip on the dresser as well. When he was done he came back downstairs and was surprised to see the caretaker had already come back with a tire iron and new tire. Hawk watched as his old hands seamlessly switched both tires, then he stood up and slapped the side of the car.
“There ya go! Should get you all the way to wherever it is you're going.”
“Thanks. How much do I owe you for this?”
“Don't worry about it.” He said. “Just be sure to tell yer friends about what a fine place Lou runs here and that'll be all the payment I need.”
“Will do. See ya.”
Hawk got into the car, started up the engine, then backed up into the street. He waved goodbye to the old man, then headed back to downtown Aldwell where he'd spotted a carwash on the way in. It took him three full washes to make the car look the way it had before. After he was done there he turned
back in the direction of Miami and drove for about a quarter mile up the highway. There was one more thing he had to take care of. He was keeping his eyes out for a small road that led off from the highway called Lester Lane. He'd typed it into the GPS on his loaner phone and it said he'd passed the road about 15 seconds back. Hawk cursed himself, turned back around and went back to where the GPS had said the road was located. He spotted it a second later, and realized he hadn't seen it because there was no longer a street sign there anymore. Probably blown down by the storm he thought. He turned onto the small road which was punctured with cracked pavement and dropped his speed limit down to 20 – crews hadn't been through here yet as there were still trees knocked down and one side of the road was still covered with a thin layer of water. Hawk kept his car to the right side and kept an eye out for the address he was looking for.
The houses on this street were few and far between and Hawk slowed the car down further when he saw the address was getting closer. He found the house a minute later and parked a little down the street from it. The house was small with a single car garage and green siding running along the sides. There were some bushes around the front which obscured most of the house but the backyard was visible and Hawk could see a blonde woman hanging some laundry on a clothes line. He guessed she looked to be in her late 30's. He watched her for a second as she hung the last pair of jeans from a wire basket and then disappeared in a backdoor. He waited a second longer then stepped out of the car with a small package he'd placed on the passenger's seat. He'd been carrying the package in his jacket pocket and had written a name on the front in red permanent marker: TO BE OPENED BY MRS. DOUCETTE ONLY. The contents of the package included Clyde's wallet as well a cheque addressed to Mrs. Doucette for the sum of $500,000. The cheque bore Simon Hawk's name as well as his address in San Francisco. Inside the envelope he'd also included a small handwritten note he'd completed the night before.
Dear Mrs. Doucette;
My name is Simon Hawk and I was a friend of your husband's. He saved my life once and for that I am forever grateful, but unfortunately while doing so it cost him his own. For this I am sorry beyond words can say and know there is nothing I can do to help mitigate the sadness you and your family must be feeling. Although I only knew Clyde for a brief period, I feel like I'd known him my entire life. He was a very special person and I will think of him always. I've attached a cheque with this package – I know it can never bring your husband back to you but I know Clyde would have wanted you to have it. I've also enclosed his personal belongings as well. I know this all might come as a shock to you and please believe me it is not my intention to cause you and your family any addition suffering. I hope that you will be strong in such a difficult time and that peace may eventually find you again. You will no doubt hear Clyde's name mentioned in news stories about his heroics – I have documented his efforts well with the police – but I want to let you know that through it all Clyde's strength never wavered and he was courageous to the end. Before he passed on he had told me about you and his children and I could tell he loved you all very much. I will never be able to repay him for what he has done for me but he will be in my heart always.
- Simon Hawk
With the package cradled under one arm Hawk walked the stone path to the front door above a small wooden porch. When he was there he raised his hand to knock then stopped for a moment. He put his ear against the door and listened and thought he could hear a radio playing faintly somewhere. He bit the bottom of his lip and looked down at the brown package in his hands, trying to imagine the conversation he would have with Clyde's wife if she were to open the door right now. He knew he would have to tell her everything one day but at this moment it didn't feel right – he would come back later on and visit her after she'd had time to digest the letter. He knelt down and tucked the package neatly by the base of the front door, turned on his heels and returned to the car. As he drove off he looked back once and saw a young boy pick up the package, look around once, then disappear into the front door.
On the way back to the highway Hawk had to pass through Aldwell again. His plan was to return to Miami and stay in a hotel while the police finished whatever part of their investigation they needed him for. He'd just passed by the rooming house and was making a left on Main street when he saw Reggie's diner out of the corner of his eye. He looked at his watch. It was only 4:30 and he still had plenty of time to kill. He put on his blinker, pulled into the parking lot, then stepped out of the car and went inside.
The place was empty and Reggie was nowhere in sight so he took a seat at the bar and looked up at a television in the corner. There was another news bulletin on that showed an aerial helicopter shot of the Everglades compound and Hawk frowned. He was okay with a little publicity – hell it was part of the job – but all the same he wasn't too keen on having his name flashed around the country and having every person in America know his life story. He was looking forward to the day the whole thing lost a bit of steam and he didn't have to worry about having media teams to keep raving journalists off his back. He realized he would have to face them sooner or later though – and going back to Miami meant that it would probably be sooner and he dreaded the thought of even going back.
He heard some rustling in the back and Reggie came out of the wooden kitchen doors a minute later, a tray of beer mugs in his hand. When he saw Hawk sitting there he flashed a big wide grin.
“Hey my man, you know I've been seeing you on the news the past week now. You're famous! You mind if I get a photo of you to stick on my wall with my other well known customers?”
He pointed a thumb towards the far left side of the bar where Hawk saw some photographs of other famous customers, Reggie in all of them beaming wide and proud.
Hawk smiled and looked back at him. “Sure thing, anytime.” He pointed up at the television. “Any chance of putting something else on?”
“No problem!” Reggie stepped over and flicked the channel to a baseball game. It was the Mariners taking on the A's in Oakland stadium. “How's that work for you?”
“That'll do just fine.”
“Great.” Reggie said and leaned over to Hawk. “So, what'll it be today coach?”
“How about a Heineken?”
“One Heinie coming right up for my famous customer.” Reggie poured the drink and pushed the glass in front of Hawk.
“Pour one for yourself too.” Hawk said and Reggie thanked him and did so.
Hawk took a sip of his beer and the cold lager felt nice sliding down his throat and he felt like he hadn't tasted anything so good in a long time.
They each sat there taking sips from their beers and watching the game, not saying anything for awhile until Hawk said without taking his eyes off the screen, “You know Reg I kind of like Aldwell, think maybe I'll stick around here for awhile after all.”
“You could do a hell of a lot worse than here.” Reggie said tipping his glass towards Hawk. “Sometimes a man don't know how good something is 'til he's tried a little taste of it. Know what I mean?”
Hawk smiled “You nailed it right on the nose my friend. I guess we all need a taste of something different every once in awhile.” He took another sip of his beer and sat back and watched the rest of the game while the sky outside folded over into the orange shades of a summer afternoon.
About the Author
Chris Draper hails from a city in Northern Ontario and currently resides in Western Canada. In his spare time he likes to write music, watch old movies and spend time in the outdoors. The Devil's Syndicate is his first novel.
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