On a Clear Day, You Can See Block Island by Gage Greenwood

Author:Gage Greenwood [Greenwood, Gage]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tanner's Switch Publishing
Published: 2024-02-10T00:00:00+00:00

19

On a Clear Night

Jackson woke with a start. Something had pulled him from his dreams, but he was too out of sorts to figure it out. He spent a minute gathering himself. His head felt okay. Usually, he woke with a splitting headache from grinding his teeth all night. His chest, too, didn’t ache the way it normally did, where he felt sharp pains and a thrumming heart. Some nights were luckier than others, where he woke up without the hardcore detoxing symptoms. Was detoxing the right word? It had certainly moved beyond hangovers.

He sat up and looked at the clock, which read 11:27 p.m. Oh fuck. Well, that explained the lack of symptoms. He had only been asleep for an hour and a half, which meant he was pretty much still drunk. Dragging his feet, he went to the fridge and cracked open a beer. He wanted something harder, but his head was swimming enough already. He just needed something to soften the inevitable pain.

Sipping off the can, he slid back to the bedroom and noticed his phone had two missed calls. The vibrating was probably what woke him up.

The same number had called both times. He played the only message.

“Hello, Mr. Keating. My name is Officer Carmen of the New Shoreham Police Department. Could you give me a call at⁠—”

Jackson quickly opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. He jotted the number down.

“—It’s in regard to your son, Charlie, and your daughters, Chrissy and Angela.”

Jesus. New Shoreham? Why were the kids anywhere near that fucking place? And all three of them? His stomach dropped. A hysterical, helpless cry bubbled in his throat and filled his eyes before he even heard what had happened. For all he knew the kids just got in trouble. Had a fight with some locals. Stole something.

As he went to dial, a gentle knock came from the front door. Despite the soft nature, Jackson nearly fell off the bed. He rushed to answer it, shoulders bumping into the walls as he went. He could hardly stand up straight. He really wanted a long pull on his drink before opening the door, but he’d forgotten the can on the end table.

When he saw the somber police officer on the doorstep, he cried, unleashing those tears that had built in his gut.

The officer had his hands at his chest, holding his hat, and he stood tall. A man and a woman stood behind him, a step down. The officer in front wore a state uniform, and the woman had what looked like a Westerly Police Department uniform. The man in the back wore civilian clothes.

“Sorry to bother you, sir. Are you Mr. Keating?” the statie asked.

Jackson nodded.

“I’m Officer Barrett. May we come in for a moment?”

Jackson floated. Just as he had when he found his mother dead as a child, and when he received the call about his wife. He hovered above the scene, watching the actors play out

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