Harmon had to wait at the end of his potholed driveway. Right on top of the hill like it was, he couldn't see very well, either direction. Although, usually the traffic was mostly ever day people. The slew of police, fire and paramedics was surprising to him. But only on the surface, most of the galaxy of thought between Harmon's ears was a chaotic mess. What happened her? Where did she go? He knew Darrel was involved, but should he look for Amy? She wasn't at the house, he checked, nothing there but a bunch of broken things. So many questions, perhaps Harmon would have sat in his idling truck for a few minutes anyway.
He put the shifter in park and shut the engine off. Amy was messed up pretty bad. She was blind too, he tried not to think about that. He got out of the truck and scanned the front yard. The grove of pine trees, the overgrown fence row, the power-line pole with the ugly arc light on it - he remembered going to the store with Amy to pick out curtains, heavy ones, to shut out that ugly 'booger light', she called it.
Harmon had never been a Boy Scout and he wasn't a hunter. He'd read a few books and seen a few movies so he set out scanning the ground around the front door. Maybe a drop of blood or a footprint would be hidden there like the worst Where's Waldo picture. He looked, perhaps a little longer than his abilities warranted, he didn't see anything. No clue stuck out at him.
Harmon, terrified and guilty and grieving Harmon did give up him futile search of the front yard. The sick looking sun sat right in his eyes when he checked the road to the left. The nasty clouds moving in at the edges didn't help anything, he couldn't see shit. The motor gunned and rear wheels threw up some gravel. As hard as it was for him to admit to himself, he had a better chance finding things out if he put his sights on Darrel. He never called Darrel anymore, no matter how mad Amy got. Darrel was bad news, Darrel was a parasite. Harmon never called him, but still had his number. Unless there's a big raid, the hangouts don't change much.
The old truck with the beat up shocks made its way west, towards town - the strip man, the main drag dude, where it's at - towards the sick setting sun. Harmon fished his cell phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. He'd have to open his 'Contacts' and scroll down to 'Darrel' - damnit - Harmon hated using his phone when he was driving, he'd always swerve and he just didn't like it. But after a couple tries and curses the phone was ringing.
'remember, when you are suffering, I have betrayed you'
Great, Marilyn Manson, Darrel never did get out of high school. He dropped out in his senior - or was it Junior year? - Harmon couldn't remember. Judging by his choice in a 'ring back', or whatever it was called, and the life style he was living, Harmon guessed he held onto the dark stuff with a tight fist. Harmon didn't know Darrel as well as those other guys, Scotty - he was alright for a pot head, lazy as hell, but a cool dude - and Jack and Tony. Harmon knew the last two even less. He guessed they didn't get stuck in this little town. He had heard Jack went off to some big deal college or something.
He didn't think Darrel was going to answer, the song went on forever, it seemed. "Hello. Hello!"
"Hey, buddy. Hey, it's Harmon." Some things never change, Harmon thought.
"Oh, god. Thank god, man, I thought... I don't know, man, weird shit's been happening." Darrel paused for a few deep breaths, "What's up, dude?"
Okay, now we're on the cool wave. Now's my chance. "Nothing, man. Hey listen, you still staying at the same place?"
"Yeah, man. We're hanging in there. Hard times and all, you know."
"You mind if I come by? Kick it for a little while? You still got that racing game?"
"Uh... the umm... yeah, I still got that racing game. Unlocked everything, had to play for fifteen hours straight. But wait, shh, you wanted to come by. That's what it is isn't it." Oh no, I'm losing him, Harmon thought. Then Darrel went on, "Yeah, sure sure sure, come on by, wait. NO! I know. There's this party this weekend at the Old Jensen's Place. You remember where that's at right?"
Harmon remembered that place alright. Abandoned forever, over grown and rotted to the point no one really knew what the place used to be. That was place you went when you went looking for things. Things you couldn't buy in the stores. Things were a little further outside the law then a bag of grass. At one point, Harmon knew everyone that hung out there regularly. That was before the meeting and the chips and calling Abe everyday just to say he was still hanging in there.
With the phone pressed up to his ear going back toward those places, that place, Harmon felt fear rise in him.
"Yeah, I remember the place. But, uh -"
"I'm kind of busy until then," Darrel cut in. "Lindsey and me, I, shit it's 'I' not 'me'. I gotta go man."
Guess it was this weekend at that place. Harmon took a deep breath.
"HEY! HARMON! HEY!"
He brought the phone back up to his ear. "What, man, what's up?"
"Amy said something about going. Maybe you guys could come together. Later." Click
Harmon looked around at the odd landscape. He'd seen it a hundred times, but this light. This sunset sucked. So did a party at the Old Jensen Place.
And, no, Darrel, Amy would not be coming.
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