Wildman by J. C. Geiger

Author:J. C. Geiger
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Disney Book Group
Published: 2017-06-06T04:00:00+00:00

Outside The Float’s back door, an exhaust fan exhaled warm grease. A muffled pounding, like fists on a wall, was coming from inside. A double-time, irregular meter. Maybe a 2/6 with a 3/4 signature. Lance almost had it figured out when someone screamed:

You fuckers! Let me out!

“Mason’s got someone in the walk-in,” Dakota said.

She led him through the back door, past a rack of canned beans to where Mason stood with a small ring of servers and cooks in striped pants. Someone had shoved a broomstick through the walk-in freezer’s U-shaped handle. More pounding. Wood jumped and rattled.

“Time for Quiz Bowl, Freezer Edition!” Mason shouted.

“Damn it, Mason!”

The captive beat the door.

“Nice threads, Wildman,” Mason said. “Got a date?”

“Hey!” The captive’s voice was familiar. “I just dropped three orders of fries. You’re going to burn your damn restaurant down.”

“Stone,” Mason said, shaking his head. “You have the power here. Only you can save you.”

So it was Stone.

“Hey, Mason,” Lance said. “I wondered if I could pick up my trumpet.”

“Trumpet,” Mason said. “Hmm. About this big? Black case? Spit-polished and called the Wild Thing?”

“Exactly.”

“Never seen it.” He turned back to the walk-in. “Hey, Stone. Bonus question: Where is Wildman’s trumpet?”

“How the hell should I know?”

Mason made a buzzer noise. Stone charged. The broomstick shuddered. Servers giggled, but the cooks looked nervous, like they might be next.

“Mason,” Dakota said. “He’s injured.”

“He’s fine. We were having a civilized discussion about the word emanciated,” Mason said. “Stone needed a time-out.”

“Emanciated?” Dakota said.

“It means really skinny, right?” Mason whispered. “Little African kids.”

“Emanci-PATED!” Stone shouted. “It means free, idiot!”

“Wildman?” Mason asked.

“Emancipated means free,” Lance said. “Emaciated means really skinny.”

“Yeah. Skinny, Mason,” Stone said. “Like the opposite of you.”

Mason gasped. “Stone.”

“Open the door, or I start breaking glass. I’m not fucking around.”

“After hearing testimony from our judges,” Mason said, “we’ll call it a draw.”

Mason yanked out the broom and the door blasted open. Stone whipped past them. The draft from the freezer frosted Lance’s arms.

“Want to step inside, Wildman?” he said. “Cops will never find you.”

“Funny. They called me earlier,” Lance said.

“I heard. They were here looking for you,” Mason said. “Perkins the Prick said he’s left you three messages. Don’t worry. I told him you were the Wildman. You have too many outstanding warrants to give a shit about his podunk jurisdiction.”

“Thanks, Mason. That’s helpful.”

“I figured you’d be back in Bend. Now this could get awkward.”

“Yeah,” Lance said. “So, hey. Before I get arrested, do you think I could grab my horn?”

“We’re slammed, dude,” Mason said, suddenly frantic. “It’s dinner rush. Go have a drink, and I’ll be out in a second.”

Dakota tried to say something, but Mason was already walking. Out in the bar, Rocco and Meebs had pinned down their usual table with a half-empty pitcher. Meebs gave Lance a high five. Rocco slapped his back. Apparently, in these parts, it was easy to go from someone whose ass people wanted to kick to someone they couldn’t wait to see. You just had to stick around a few days.

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