Ashes a sweet garbonzo one shot.
I really like this one, and I hope you do too. To clarify, the "gruff man" (as I often like to
describe him) is Jet. The reason I don't name him is because the story is from the
perspective of someone watching from a distance. You're really not supposed to know
who it is, but if you're a fan of Cowboy Bebop, you of course will.
Enjoy! ^_^
*****
The funeral processes were dying down at this point in the evening, and most of the
mourners had already left. The only people still standing by the ocean shore were two
complete strangers, only together by circumstance. One was a gruff looking man, worn
around the edges and someone you didn't want to mess with. The other was a teenage
girl, wearing her sunday best and holding a sun bonnet in her hands. The older man was
taking a drag from a cigarette, while the young girl simply watched the breeze.
When the man finished his cigarette, he stamped it out and turned to leave. He was
interupted by a small voice.
"How did you know him?" she asked curiously. "I don't mean to be rude.. it's just that he
was my uncle, and I didn't know anybody here today." The man looked at her and tried
to give her a smile. It was rough and forced looking.
"Just an aquaintance," he replied. He started getting the feeling the girl didn't want to be
alone.
"I see," she replied. "He seemed to have a lot of those." She took a long deep breath of the
ocean air. Closing her eyes and smiling, she said "He always wanted to have his ashes
spread over the oceans of Ganymede. He just loved it here." She spread her arms wide,
as if she was trying to catch the wind itself.
"Yeah," the gruff man replied. "He never was cut out for police work."
"So you worked with him?" she asked. He nodded.
"Long time ago." He scratched behind his ear to distract from his uncomfortableness. Here
he was,talking to a teenage girl he had never met before, when all he wanted was to
head back to the ship and tend to his bonsai.
"You don't seem like a cop." His doubtful look made her laugh. "What I mean is, you don't
look like a dishonest cop. Everyone knows the syndicate owns the ISSP."
"That's why I got out of the force," he told her, not knowing quite sure why. "I don't do
business that way."
The girl was silent for a while. The sun was starting to set, and the old man was itching to
leave.
"Listen," he finally said, "if you need someway home, I could walk you-"
"Tell me," she said with a shaky voice, "did he....did my uncle.... was he a good cop?" She
looked into his eyes, knowing that the truth would be there, no matter what his words
said.
"He was a good man by nature...." he stopped and sighed, knowing he couldn't lie to this
girl. "A few years in, he started selling information. That's all."
The girl stood in silence. Her knuckles were white from gripping so hard on the hat in her
hands. The man was waiting for her to speak, so she finally did.
"He was a good man," she told him. "He took care of me. But... he had no excuse for what
he did. And he paid for it with his life." She was stern in her words, and the older man
knew she believed every word she said.
"Some people just aren't strong enough," he replied. "Sometimes, it takes a certain kind of
person to forgive." He looked at her with honest eyes, and she nodded her head.
"Yeah," she softly smiled, in spite of herself, "but it also takes a certain kind of person to
stand here listening to me ramble like this." He stared at her, not quite sure what to think,
until he laughed heartily.
"You're right," he told her. "Come on," he said, "I'll walk you home."
"No thanks," she replied. "I'm already there."
*****
That's all folks. This is a personal favorite. I wrote it after a friend of my father's passed away. I hope you liked it, review if you wish.