FICTION - A DIFFERENT MAN

The first thing Vince does when he gets out of prison is smoke a 15-year-old cigarette that tastes like horse shit.

The second thing he does is turn to the high fences and barbed wire. Gives them a nice, big, double fisted fuck you. For the first time in fifteen years he feels good. For the first time in fifteen years he's a free man.

***

They processed him out, made him sign for a sealed plastic bag with the last of everything he owned of the world. Sent him on his way with a hundred dollars and a bus ticket.

The hat's still in the bag. A crumpled, tan Stetson with a braided leather hatband. Hasn't had the balls to put it back on. It's something from Before.

There's two times just like there's two places. Before and After. Inside and Outside. He's afraid to touch that old hat. Afraid of the man who wore it. Afraid that, like a werewolf in the moonlight, he'll turn back into him.

Prison's left its mark. He's a different man, now.

***

The bus pulls up at the Greyhound station in McAllister, California. Dirt farmers and scrub brush. Tumbleweeds, cactus. Joshua trees that stretch their arms like screaming thieves. All these years, the place is still a shithole.

Prison's put a thirst on him. For beer, whiskey and something else. He wanders into a bar with a handpainted sign, badly done neon. Dust and dirt blowing in after him. An entourage of ghosts.

The Latina behind the bar is wiping it down with a rag that looks like it was used to clean engine parts. Tattooed arms and metal in her face. He orders a Michelob and a Southern Comfort. She pulls a bottle from a cooler full of ice, pours him a shot.

He takes a long pull, savors it. Chases it with the whiskey. Best he's ever tasted.

"Been here long?"

"I don't fuck geezers, grandpa."

Vince laughs. "Whoa, there, darlin'. Just makin' conversation. Mickey still running this place? Mickey Cooper?"

"Yeah, I know Mickey. You want him? He's in the back." She nods to a bent, wooden door with OFFICE in gold italic stickers.

He tips his head toward her. "Obliged."

He knocks on the door. It's an old knock. One he used when he was coming in with a night's profits running meth down into Lancaster. He gives it a second, opens the door.

"Thought I recognized that old tune." Mickey's sitting behind a desk piled high with receipts, order forms, office crap. He's gotten old, fat and bald. Soft.

"Figured you might." Vince slides into a tube metal chair, stuffing poking from tears in the fake leather seat.

"Didn't know you were gettin' out."

Bullshit. Vince knows Mickey better than that. He had Vince's release date etched into his goddamn brain.

"This morning. Caught the bus down. Got something for you." He can see Mickey tense. Knows there's a gun under that desk. "Nothing like that."

He brings up the crumpled hat, still in the plastic bag. Lays it on the table. Mickey looks at it like it's a rattlesnake.

"Haven't seen that in a long time."

"State kept it for me. Thought you might want it back, seeing as how it's yours and all."

"Vince, look, I-"

"I was a weak man back then, Mickey. Not much more than a boy. I took fifteen years for you. Wasn't me wearing that hat people saw. Wasn't me pulled that trigger."

"You come to square things? Here to give me my come-uppance?"

"No. Just here to give you your hat back. I'm a different man, now."

Vince stands. Turns to the door.

Mickey laughs. "You haven't changed. You're still weak, Vince. Suppose you took it up the ass in the joint, huh? Took a dick or two for me?"

Vince leaves the cramped room, ignores the belly laughs coming from inside. He buys a fresh pack of cigarettes from the Latina, pays for his drinks, gives her a big tip.

Outside, the desert sun beats down and a hot wind blows dust devils in the dirt. A beat up Subaru pulls up in the lot as he's lighting up a Marlboro. Three men. Grim faces.

"There's a girl inside. Don't hurt her." They nod, pull guns from the car.

He waits for the gunshots. The screams. Finishes his cigarette, grinds it out under his heel.

"You're wrong, Mickey. I have changed."