Chapter 11

With Madam Esmeralda and Rebecca’s help, Logan was able to raise Grace without any further incidents. Time passed surprisingly quickly for a town that moved at the pace of a koala.

In fact, a shitload changed. The men were able to drink again, which was a very big deal. One of the women in the town set up a kindergarten to deal with all the new munchkins. But perhaps the biggest change was that Bruce, the neighbourhood postie, recently died.

Since agents had swarmed his place and even taken custody of his young child, the details of how he carked it became the subject of rumours. The men in the town decided to honour his memory by saying he went out after being shot for sleeping with an Agent’s wife.

Five long years had passed, yet one thing remained unchanged. The town remained cut off from the rest of the world, and the phones remained disconnected.

Agents continued to patrol the town with a stiff stride, as if a snake had snuck into their dacks. Why they were still lurking around was also unknown. The bastards wouldn’t answer even when asked. As much as Logan would have loved to stir Agent Johnson, he knew better than to push too far.

At least with alcohol back on the menu, it meant Logan could earn a living once again. He poured out a beer and slid it along the bench to Darrell, already halfway through a midday drink.

“You call this a beer? It’s as flat as roadkill,” Darrell complained, in a joking manner.

“That’s the best beer in town,” Rebecca commented, appearing from the kitchen. She had started working in the pub to assist Logan. Truth was, he was grateful for her help.

“Something is wrong if you think this is the best,” Darrell replied.

“If there is anything wrong, it's your taste buds,” she shot back.

Logan had to cover his mouth to stop himself from laughing.

“Fuck you, mate!” Darrell snapped back with a cheeky smile.

Rebecca reached out, snatched his beer and poured it down the well.

“That’s for swearing in front of a child.”

Rebecca was referring to Grace, who was playing ‘tea party’ with her new bunny plushie at one of the empty tables. Logan didn’t think it was possible for Grace to get any cuter, but her puffy, round cheeks, infectious smile and silky brown hair made her the prettiest girl in the entire town. At least to Logan.

Nobody else could pull off such a cute white dress with little bunnies on them better than her. She was so cute that Logan feared allowing her to get close to the boys in her kindergarten class. Especially Toby, Darrell’s son.

“Alright, fair cop. I’m sorry for swearing in front of young Grace,” Darrell apologised.

“You really should be more careful. What would your son think?” she laid into him. Logan almost felt sorry.

Darrell checked his watch. “Oh, would you look at the time. I really should be getting back to the store. Smell you later.”

“Nah, unlike you, I actually shower,” Logan replied as Darrell flipped the bird and walked out of the bar, smile still on his face.

The moment Darrell left, Logan’s energy vanished. He staggered and gripped the countertop to keep his balance. Rebecca quickly rushed to his side, grabbing him for support.

“Are you doing alright? Because you look like horse shi… horse poo,” she caught herself just in time.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” Logan replied, offering a meek smile. The bags under his eyes and gauntness in his face told another story.

“Have you been eating?” Rebecca prodded him in the stomach with her finger.

“I eat every other day?”

“You can’t go skipping meals!” she scolded him, whipping him with a bar towel.

“Why? I survived not eating for ten years.”

“You and I both know that was an abnormal situation.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry. I make sure Grace always has three meals.” Logan glanced over at his daughter who was still happily playing.

“I know she gets three meals. I was asking about you.”

Logan didn’t reply, and Rebecca sighed.

“You need to care for yourself!” she scolded Logan.

“Don’t worry, I cut back a bit so I could afford to buy her that stuffed bunny. See how much she enjoys it.”

Rebecca sighed once more.

“I’m glad she is happy, but you shouldn’t sacrifice your own health to do so. You can rely on others a bit more.”

“I’ve been receiving help from Madam Esmeralda. Besides, she is my responsibility, so I’ll look after her.”

“If you drop dead, how do you think that would make her feel?”

Logan didn’t respond; he knew she was right. Besides, fighting her any more would require effort. He was already buggered.

“Rebecca, can you help out?”

She smiled.

“I’d love to help out.”

The pub door creaked open, and the hollowed footsteps echoed on the hardwood flooring.

“Mr Russell, you can also rely on us if you require it,” Agent Johnson remarked without so much as an expression.

Logan had suspected his bar had been bugged for some time; it was why he was always careful when criticising the agents. He figured if they were always watching, he’d get away with far more by being hostile openly to their face rather than behind their backs.

Agent Johnson’s gaze immediately focused on Grace, who sank her head, hopped off her chair and, gripping her bunny, ran to hide behind Logan. The fact that she hated Agent Johnson as much as he did was one of the proudest achievements Logan had in raising her.

“Sorry, but I don’t need your help, Agent Jonestown,” Logan responded, feeling pretty smug at this deliberate butchering of the agent's name.

“That is a shame,” he responded without any shift in his expression. “And how might Miss Grace Russell be?”

Grace gripped Logan’s leg tighter.

“I imagine you are here for something other than eavesdropping in on our conversation. Unless you are after a beer, you'd better hurry up and spill the beans.”

Agent Johnson reached up and clicked his fingers. A second later, his lips twisted cruelly.

“Indeed, there will be an important announcement made in exactly thirty minutes. Please meet outside the community centre.”

“What kind of announcement?” Logan asked, glaring at the man.

He reached into his pocket and retrieved a packet of cigarettes. Lighting one up in front of Logan.

He shot Logan a dirty look.

“Even if I was at liberty to reveal that to you, Mr Russell, what makes you think I’d tell you?” He took a puff of his cigarette before dropping it on the hardwood floor. Stamping it out. “Oh, and Mr Russell, if a conversation wasn’t recorded in this town, it never took place.”

He clapped his hands twice.

“Mr Russell, I expect you to understand my warning.”

Without waiting for Logan’s response, Agent Johnson turned and left.

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End of Chapter 11