Chapter 4: Walking Free
Twelve miles outside of El Paso, Texas, USA
"CJ!!! Dinner time!", she called out.
Johanna Slade was a beautiful woman who had turned many men's heads in her life. She had golden brown hair, tied back with a red bandana. She was a small, slender woman, but that didn't stop her from working out in the fields daily with her family. She knew engines just as good as any mechanic and could take apart the engine of a tractor and reassemble it in half the time. Her face was dotted with light brown freckles and a pair of rosy cheeks. She had a small, perky nose, on top of which sat a pair of silver rimmed, circular glasses. Through the glasses looked the kindest pair of eyes anyone would have the pleasure of gazing into. She called out again.
"CJ!!! Don't make me come get you kiddo!"
"Coming mama!", shouted a five year old Carter J. Slade running from the barn wearing a pair of overalls, a straw cowboy hat and carrying a plastic pistol.
"Don't forget to say goodnight to Daddy before washing up."
Carter stops and turns away from the house, walking toward a Texas persimmon tree with a white wooden cross under it. Painted on the cross are the words;
'Carter J. Slade II, Beloved Father, Husband, Ranger, February 20XX - August 20XX'
"Goodnight Daddy. Mommy and I miss you. Oh and Grampa, too".
The boy leans forward and kisses the top of the wooden post, then turns and begins walking back to the ranch house. As he is walking back he turns towards the fields, hearing the gallop of a horse. As the horse came over the hill its rider slowly came into view. He was a slender man wearing a long brown trench coat and a black pinch front hat. He had neck length silver hair and a matching silver mustache. His eyes were both tired and relaxed yet vigilant, as if he were both predator and prey. He stops the horse a few feet from the young boy and ties the reins off on a nearby post. He then turns to the boy, speaking with a voice that was like thunder but was also soothing to the ear.
"Well howdy there sheriff", he tips his hat, referring to the boys play badge.
"Stick 'em up!", Carter says, pointing the plastic pistol at the man.
The man plays along and slowly raises his hands in the air.
"BANG!!", shouts Carter, pretending to shoot the man.
"OH ya got me!!!" says the man playfully, falling on the ground and pretending to be dead.
CJ laughs at this and tackles the "dead man" who currently has his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.
"Grampa it's just pretend. See?", says the boy, showing the pistol is indeed made of plastic.
The boys grandfather opens his eyes.
"Are you sure?", he asks, pretending to check himself for bullet holes.
"WHEW! You sure got me that time CJ", laughs Carter Sr., who then gets up out of the dirt.
The two begin to walk inside when Johanna stops them.
"I DON'T THINK SO! BOTH OF YOU BETTER WASH UP BEFORE GOING IN THAT HOUSE!" she shouts, pointing out that the boys were now both covered head to toe in dirt.
After washing up, the three of them go inside to enjoy a meal together, laughing and telling jokes all the while. Later that night they were all sitting on the front porch, each eating a slice of warm apple pie with a scoop of vanilla icecream over top of it.
"Johanna, that was amazing. I haven't stuffed myself like that in a long while", said Carter Sr. patting his stomach.
The three of them stared up at the stars. Being this far out from the city meant you could see nearly all of them, with the faint glow of downtown El Paso along the horizon.
Johana sighs, "Alright CJ, it's time for bed, do you have anything you want to show Grampa before you go?"
CJ springs up from his spot on the steps and runs to be in front of the old man, whose full attention was now on the youngster.
"I got my quirk Grampa!!!", the boy says with glee, having been somewhat of a late bloomer.
Most children manifest their quirks, or powers, by the time they were four, but Carters didn't start showing until a few weeks prior. The boys mother, Johanna, had the ability to control the dust in the air. While it wasn't too impressive of a feat, it certainly helped keep the house absolutely spotless. The boys father on the other hand had the ability to grab any solid material and rearrange its molecules into any firearm.
The boy ran off the porch and rubbed his hands around in the dirt, much to his mothers dismay. Once they were good and dirty, he ran back onto the porch and stood in front of his grandfather. He held his hands out in front of him and began focussing on the dirt. The boy had only had a few weeks to practice, but he was almost in full control of his powers. Slowly the dust and dirt on his hands began to move around in the air, circling around a condensed point. Soon an object became visible, and started getting bigger, taking more form. Carter Sr. held his hands out under the object until it dropped into them. The boy fell to his knees exhausted, looking at the creation in his great grandfathers hands.
"Well I'll be…", exclaimed the old man, holding up the object.
He held it up in the light to see it better. The boy had created an exact replica of a Colt 1911 out of dust and dirt. Checking the clip, he saw that the gun was loaded, so he chambered a round and stood up.
"Cover your ears boy", he says, taking aim at a haybale off to the side near the front of the field.
'BANG… BANG… BANG…'
Three empty, smoking brass shells fell onto the porch. Carter Sr. couldn't help but smile to himself. He was beyond proud that the boy had a quirk.
"I was hoping this day would come", says the old man, standing up and slowly walking over to his horse.
He goes into one of the saddlebags and pulls out a burlap sack. Even though it had various holes and tears in it, it was hard to see the object inside. He walks back up to the porch and sits back down in his rocking chair. He pats his lap and the five year old climbs up into it, eager to see what's in the bag. The old man opens the burlap sack and empties its contents. It's a black leather cowboy hat with a pinch front, and a brown leather band going around it, ending with a shining brass buckle on the front of it. Carter Sr. puts the hat on the boy's head, watching as it falls well over his eyes and past his nose.
"I guess you'll have to grow into it some", he chuckles as he glances up at the sky, seeing a shooting star fly over.
"Look! CJ make a wish, quick!" he exclaims, pointing at the star.
"I wish…", he starts.
"I wish I could be a Ranger like Daddy when I grow up…"
All of their voices begin to fade, becoming garbled and distorted.
That's when he woke up. The cell door flew open as CJ was still taking in his surroundings.
'It was a dream? No… a memory', he thought.
He sat up on his cot and glanced up at the door. It was Principal Nezu, waiting for him in the doorway. Carter stood up and walked out, arms forward and wrists together, waiting for the officers to put handcuffs on him.
"No need for those today, Young Carter. And please, feel free to change before we leave for the hospital", says Principal Nezu, turning his head towards the table next to him.
Much to Carter's surprise, a set of brand new civilian clothes were folded neatly on the table. Among them were jeans, a brown belt, a white t-shirt, a red flannel shirt, and black boots. Carter picked up the pile of folded clothes and retreated back into the cell to change. Moments later, he emerged from the cell's steel door, looking neater than he had in the last few years. The t-shirt was tucked neatly into his jeans and the flannel sleeves were rolled up almost to his elbows. His silver cross was hanging neatly down in front of the white t-shirt, sitting in plain view. He looked like he was ready to do a day's work on a ranch.
"Since you were born and raised in Texas, I only figured this look would suit you. Oh and before I forget, we have one final item for you", says Principal Nezu, holding up a round hat box.
Carter took the box and set it on the table, opening it slowly. When he removed the lid, all the guards present leaned over to get a peak. Inside was a black, leather cowboy hat with a pinch front and a brown leather band around the crown, ending in a brass buckle. The hat had been worn down by now, but what caught the eyes of the guards was the two distinct bullet holes in the hat. One bullet hole resided in the hat's brim, while the other went through it's crown, just above the brown leather band. Carter lifted the hat out of the box gently, as it had been five years since he had seen it. Its rough complexion felt familiar to his fingers. He rubbed around the bullet holes, remembering clearly how each of them had gotten there, and what happened to the men who had put them there. He slowly lifted the hat over him, letting it rest firmly onto his head.
"Perfect fit", he chuckled.
Although he hated the old geezer, he was right. It would've fit him eventually.
"My that hat looks absolutely perfect on you!", exclaims Principal Nezu.
"Shall we get going to the hospital now? I believe you have some people you wanted to meet".
Carter looks down at the mouse man, giving a slight nod. He then follows Principal Nezu outside, unaccompanied by the police officers. It was the first time in almost five years he had walked freely. It was a strange feeling to him, not being in handcuffs whilst walking around. He followed the mouse man down the steps to a parked car. Principal Nezu opened the back door for Carter and then crawled in, sitting next to him. Principal Nezu then informed the driver of their destination and the car slowly pulled out into the street, heading for the Musutafu Hospital