Chapter 3: Sheriff’s Ward

Sheriff Richard Ogden looked into the horizon, admiring the bright blue skies and the dirt brown plains. Noon had reached the little town of New Cistern. He nudged his aviator glasses back onto his nose. He walked toward Casper Brakes, who sat on the side of the road with his eyes closed, his head down, and his hands cuffed behind his back.

The sheriff crouched in front of the boy.

“You’re going to need to explain this again,” he said. His toothpick glided to the other side of his mouth. He tried to quit smoking, but old habits die hard.

When Caz lifted his head, the sheriff noticed that those eyes seemed different. They lacked the fierce sparks of his youth. ‘Were did that rowdy teenager go?’ the sheriff thought to himself.

“I already told you,” Caz said impatiently. “I don’t know. One minute, I was in this black void and in the next I was in the bar and Jack was attacking me.”

“Smiles.”

“What?”

“We call him Smiles, not Jack. Ain’t nobody that calls him Jack in these parts.”

“Okay, Smiles,” Caz said.

“And why were you in a black void. You been doing drugs?”

“No! I told you. I died.”

The sheriff peered over his sunglasses and analyzed Casper’s face. He couldn’t see any of the kid’s usual tells for lying.

“Uh, huh,” the sheriff agreed. His mind followed different courses of action. “Look here, Casper. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but the last time we were in this situation, I told you that there would be consequences for your actions. Your Pa and I were good friends, the best of friends. And it’s a real shame what happened to him and to your family. You don’t deserve that. Ain’t nobody does. But I told you, boy, that the next time you get in trouble I was going to put you in jail. And this time you gone and killed a man.”

“Jack, I mean, Smiles is dead?”

“I dunno. We’ll see if Nurse Felicity will be able to patch him up, but it doesn’t look good from what I can hear. But that ain’t the point. The point is I don’t got no mercy left in me. Someone’s got to teach you a lesson.”

Caz shook his head.

Ash tried to conjure every ounce of personal history he could. Since plugging into this video game, since selecting Caz as his avatar, little slivers of memory floated into his head. It almost became confusing separating the memories of his life and those from Caz. Ash knew that he didn’t belong to this world, but sitting on the hot dirt of some small town, with handcuffs around his wrists and his heart beating hard within his chest, proved different. This felt real.

His past -- his real past -- began to feel like a dream.

He closed his eyes and tried to recall the happy faces of his family. He imagined their apartment block in the Lower District. Their residence overlooked one of the great highways of the megalopolis. Giant transport trucks would speed over those roads, their neon lights streaking the night. He remembered staring at those streaks for hours with his older brother.

Ash opened his eyes. Those days still existed somewhere outside of this game. For now, he was Casper ‘Caz’ Brakes, a local nuisance, in the small town of New Cistern.

“Alright, Sheriff,” Caz said with renewed confidence. “I recognize your predicament.”

“About time!” the sheriff exclaimed. He stood, pulling the toothpick from his mouth and spitting on the ground. “So what are we going to do?”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“First, I want you to tell me all the times that you felt like I needed punishment. Then, we can talk about consequences for the bar fight.”

“All the times I wanted to punish you? Boy, that’s going to be a long story! By the time, I’m done with that tale, the night will have fallen, the moon risen, and tomorrow would be well underway. I’ll keep it simple.”

The sheriff crouched once more in front of Caz, one of his knees dropping to support his body. Dirt clung to his beige sun-worn trousers. He lifted his index finger.

“Number one: Last week, you drank yourself silly in that bar with money you didn’t have, gambled away the money you did have, and, having come to terms with your predicament, decided to pick the pockets of ol’ Smiles, who, lucky for you, was passed out. You robbed him both bullet and bullion, and thinking yourself clever, you bragged about it, tried paying off your tab with it, which, naturally, Janet wouldn’t allow. And then, you started a verbal altercation with Officer Carhart when he made his rounds. You used his presence as an excuse to leave, leaving your tab unpaid, your gambling deficit larger, and a man robbed. Honestly, it’s a bit of a shame that ol’ Smiles didn’t break your teeth and use your pearly whites as currency. Heck, I would have accepted them for general goods and services.”

Ash filled with regret. ‘Why did I pick my avatar so poorly,’ he thought to himself.

“Number two: A few nights ago, you gave everyone in this township a heart attack. You and your boys wanted some entertainment, hooting and hollering, despite the midnight hour. As if that weren’t enough, you stole one of the propane tanks from the mechanic’s garage, set the dang thing in the middle of the road, and proceeded to fire at it with a shotgun. If you was sober, it wouldn’t have taken so long to hit it, but at the rate you and your boys were going at it, it sounded like a gunfight. I was in the middle of strapping my bullet-proof vest on when you finally hit the dang propane tank, which, unbeknownst to you, because you were drinking, was not empty and mostly full. The thing exploded and scattered shrapnel all over the main road. I mean, look!”

The sheriff took Caz’s head and turned it toward the store front of the bar. A hunk of metal remained embedded in its wooden walls.

“It is almost a miracle that no one got shredded to pieces with your escapade. Man, I was so mad, I thought I was going to put you under the bridge that night. I had my pistol out and everything. I gave you one last chance, one last chance, and then you go and use that chance by killing, or nearly killing, ol’ Smiles.”

Caz exhaled deeply.

“And, number three,” the sheriff said with three fingers very close to Caz’s face, “is the fact that after everything, after everything that I did for you after your family was murdered, after your self-destructive rampage over the last year and a half, getting worse every single day, that I said, against my better judgement, that you could date Janet. I thought my angel would be able to heal those wounds.”

The sheriff jabbed him in the chest with his index finger.

“You were a good boy once, Casper. A good boy. I hoped my daughter would help you find that aspect of yourself again. And, I think, she did. She did for a bit. But after dating her for six months, you broke her heart. You broke her heart, Casper. You broke the heart of my only daughter. I really should have put you into the dirt for that one. If it weren’t for my saint of a wife, I would have turned over this entire town to find what sorry place you crawled into for sleep that night. I would have dragged you right to this very spot, right here, right where you’re sitting right now, and put a bullet in your head.”

The sheriff’s eyes filled with hot angry tears.

“I would have.” He sniffled. “I might still,” he said, wiping the tears from his face. “But then Janet would never forgive me. If it weren’t for the ladies in the Ogden family, every creature that survives under this dang soil would already be munching on your flesh until you were nothing more than bones. Bones, Casper. Bones. Those ladies love you. They saved you. It’s the reason I didn’t throw you in jail two weeks ago. It’s the reason I didn’t throw you in jail a few nights ago. But those ladies can’t deny what you did you today. You killed a man. Almost killed a man. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t even matter that it’s ol’ Smiles. The point remains that you need to be dressed down until you fix up your messed up heart and your messed up head. What would your father say? What would your father say!?”

The sheriff jumped to his feet and turned his back on Caz. He remained silent, recollecting the happy days of when his best friend was still alive.

Caz cleared his throat. Silence hung in the air, with only the whistle of winds to break it. The sheriff refused to turn around, almost in principle. This boy had brought him so much trouble over the last year and a half. He could hardly recognize the kid anymore.

“You’re right, Sheriff. It’s been too much. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I deserve punishment, I can admit that much.”

Ash spoke from a place of genuine contrition. He could not believe that his avatar had done so much wrong in over the last two weeks. The sheriff seemed to believe that something good could come from Caz, and, now, Ash would ensure that this story would have a happy ending.

Ash would commit to the roleplay. He would be Casper ‘Caz’ Brakes.

[Speech Check Passed]

“Alright, Casper,” the sheriff said. He returned to him, and helped the kid up to his feet. “I appreciate your apology, but consequences need to be put in place. We’ll find out about ol’ Smiles later. Right now, we’re going to headquarters. I’m going to process the paperwork and you’re going to cool off in jail.”

“For how long?”

“Six months,” the sheriff said.

He lifted the kid by the handcuffs and pushed him toward the police station.