Conversations #7
A disjointed set of conversations that would've been fun/nice/endearing/helpful to see in the series…but we didn't.
Follows CANON only, generally references to conversations we never hear.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just speculatin'.
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Jonah looked down at the late-August grass. Maybe he was a fool after all. He was out here, wasn't he?
"I know it's been a long time, longer than usual. It's bad out here now, worse than before--in the city. Maybe I'm just getting old." He carefully folded down to the sun-warmed ground and sat, his legs stretched in front of him. Leaning back, he looked at the bright blue sky. "Age is a bitch. I'm 63 this year, in two days, and here I am hanging on by my teeth to a group that I don't even want.
"Mitch is getting pushy--has been for the past year. Last few weeks, he's gotten worse. The boys are starting to listen to him. One of the idiots actually went with him to try a liquor store in Oklahoma. They didn't get the chance, though. Something spooked them off--not sure what." Jonah paused, almost as if expecting a reply, then continued. "I know. The boy's not the brightest, but Mitch…I'd had better hopes for him. He's got the brains to be a leader, but he's more interested in the short-range part of power. Boy wouldn't understand real power if it walked up and shot him.
"Not that I'm going to shoot him--I should, but I'm not. He's just too blind to see the difference between power and fear. People are afraid of him, but he doesn't have any control over himself or others. He'll cross the wrong person someday, and he'll pay for it." Jonah put his weight onto one arm and scrubbed his face with his other hand. "It's getting cool out here. This time of year, it's usually hotter. It's going to be a strange year.
"Don't know why I think that, but I do. Last year wasn't so bad, nowhere near as bad as it was a few years ago. But now? Maybe I'm just getting too old for all the crap. I should retire to Florida or something. Maybe not Florida. Kentucky--few acres in the hills, nobody and nothing to bother me...but you'd still be here." Jonah sighed. "Wish I could join you, honey. I miss you. Never treated you right while you were alive, now you're gone and all I can do is wish for a chance to go back and get it right, be a good father and husband."
The wind whipped by, but the woman said nothing. She hadn't for over five years. Somehow, Jonah knew he was a fool for coming into town just to talk with his late wife, but this was getting ridiculous. He was actually speaking this time--and wishing he were with her. He'd never be with her. He wasn't good enough.
Footsteps. Jonah levered himself off the ground and turned to see none other than Johnston Green, mayor and pain-in-the-ass, complete with his jaw set and his hat on. Being in a mood that did not easily lend to attending lectures or vaguely veiled threats, Jonah brushed off his jeans and walked to his car.
Next year, hon, he promised, I'll bring roses.