Our War with Molly Nayfack by Chris Capps

Author:Chris Capps [Capps, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Puppets on the Wall
Published: 2014-03-26T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Morning DJ Pop Thomas looked up into the streets at the darkened grey cloud that hung clinging against the window. It had been a long time since he'd had to cover the night shift on KOIF radio, but every now and again he still found himself burning the 10:30 oil as the station played its final song of the day before shutting down. Taking the penultimate record off, he pushed the volume slider on his microphone up and switched it on. In his tired evening broadcast voice, he began the night DJ's ritual of punctuating the day's events with some final thoughts. In the past, they had been simple platitudes and advice on how the townspeople might get along. But Pop was in a strange mood that night after looking out from his modest studio,

"Well friends, this ends today's broadcast. I'm looking out the studio window now and - I don't know how many of you have actually seen the layout of this place. There's a window here that leads out into the foyer and from there I can look out into the street outside. Well, it's not directly into the street. It's into that cotton candy iceberg that swirls around us at all times, obscuring our view. I'm looking, staring out into the fog right now as I prepare to send out one last jazzy lounge number, and I'm seeing that the fog isn't the same screen that once protected us from the sun. It's not the natural privacy fence that we once found comfort in while walking to the theater or a semi-summer football game. Instead I see two men standing there staring in at me, waiting for me to leave. I suspect this may be my last broadcast for a while. This is how it goes, folks. So long for now. I'll drop this needle on you and you'll start to hear music. After that, I don't know. "

He gracefully lowered the needle on an unnamed lounge track, and as it spun out, Pop Thomas went to greet his visitors. Mayor Sugarhill was talking to Rind outside, pointing into the studio and smiling. The two of them always seemed to show up in a pair when things were about to go uniquely bad. Rind rounded the exterior corner of the studio and walked in through the door. Sugarhill was following close behind, leaning with his hands tucked into suspenders.

"Pop Thomas," Rind said, pointing at the DJ, "You usually do mornings, right?"

"The evening guy didn't show up today," Pop said, "Didn't call in, he just didn't show."

"Due to recent events," Rind said not missing a beat, "we're going to be sending some people here tomorrow morning. This station will not be left unattended at any time. You know what this is about. This is about the recent revelation regarding a girl named Molly Nayfack."

Pop snorted sardonically, running his fingertips against his oily hair,

"Revelation? I must have missed that. What do we know about Molly Nayfack?"

"We know some, you know some," Sugarhill said, "Son, I understand what you must be thinking.

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