Inhabited by Charlie Quimby

Author:Charlie Quimby
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781937226688
Publisher: Torrey House Press
Published: 2016-08-25T04:00:00+00:00

Have you ever been treated for drug or alcohol problems and returned to drinking or using drugs?

—Vulnerability Index Prescreen for Single Adults

Kayakers found Jimmy Johncock well downriver from Las Colonias, speared on a river snag. From the burns on his arms and legs, the coroner figured he’d tried to beat out flames before he stumbled into the water and drowned. It seemed like Jimmy—fighting fire to the last breath, being brave and fucking up. He wasn’t afraid of a fight but he was never any good at it. Sober, drunk or hung over, Jimmy went down pretty easily. He was always a good loser, though, someone said. A real good loser.

Sylvia Tell identified Jimmy. The police knew they could go to her because she didn’t want any of her Day Center guests to end up in the potter’s field by the police gun range having to listen to target practice for eternity. Someone came up with the idea of sprinkling a little of Jimmy in every cop car in the city. The project seemed doable and quickly attracted volunteers although any of them holding a baggie of ashes would never get it as far as the back seat. But in the end, everyone agreed Jimmy’s proper resting place was in the river, and The Point, where Jimmy had lived off and on, was the best location for the farewell service. That it would require all the mourners to trespass did not enter anyone’s mind.

Since he was among the last to see Jimmy alive, Isaac felt obligated to attend and maybe Wesley would, too. It stung that he’d lost track of Wesley after the fire. Isaac had thought they were better friends. The street word was that Wesley had been the one who tipped the police about Screech and Dexter for setting the booby trap that hurt the officer. That certain druggies were looking to get back at him. Wesley could handle himself, but maybe he’d chosen not to fight and left town instead.

Disappearance was a simple fact of life, a strategy everyone used at some time on the river. You hid because you lacked the fortifications against trouble. You fled warrants and avoided paying debts. You holed up when you were sick or depressed. Sure, people looked out for each other. But no one wondered why you hadn’t been out to mow your lawn. No one missed hearing your stereo or your heels clacking on the floorboards overhead. No one called to ask why you’d missed work. It wasn’t unusual to see a car parked somewhere for too long. Your mail could go uncollected for weeks. And sometimes when people did notice they thought, good riddance.

Standing on the steep bluff above The Point, Isaac could see the entire wooded triangle formed by the railroad tracks and junction of the Colorado and Gunnison rivers. Isolated by the water and the bluff, The Point had been left untouched by the original claimants and ignored by their heirs. More than a century later, the title remained in the names of long-dead men, the land unvalued and untaxed.

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