Complicated Situation

The week had progressed with father and son metaphorically circling each other waiting for the other to blink. Raylan waited for Nate's attitude to sour, while Nate waited for Raylan to slip off to the bar. But they both remained on course and for the most part had enjoyed their time to get reacquainted. So it pained Nate when he saw Raylan gear up and head towards the door one night.

"I see, your week is over so you're out of here. Thanks for forcing yourself to spend time with me." Nate snapped.

"Now why would I want to take you with an attitude like that?" Raylan asked.

"Like you're going to take me with you," Nate scoffed.

"Not if you're going to act like that. Look I need to work on a statement and you're great with words, but I need to get the hell out of here, so you up for it or what?"

"Sure. A statement about what?" Nate asked slipping into his jacket.

"I'll explain it to you on the way," he said.

"A bar, you're bringing me to a bar?" Nate asked incredulously as they arrived. The jukebox was blasting out a bluesy tune that he recognized as one of his mother's favorites, one she used to help wake her up every morning.

"I think better here."

Nate wondered how anybody could think in this atmosphere, but he was willing to try. He looked around at the young clientele who in turn stared back at the marshal's pint sized side kick. The bartender smiled as they headed her way. "Well hey there marshal, brought your partner with you tonight I see."

"Yes I did, this is my son Nate. Nate this is Lindsay."

"Hi," Nate said smiling nervously.

"He's here to help me with a statement I have to write."

"Oh, what about?" she asked as she poured a bourbon for Raylan.

"To keep a man named Dickie Bennett in jail for crimes he is currently incarcerated for."

"Well, I see then. And you're going to help put the words to paper?" she asked Nate as she brought over a glass filled with a dark substance.

"Thanks but I can't have it," Nate said pushing the glass back towards her. "It's not my dad," he explained as she glanced over at Raylan, "I have to be on a special diet."

"Well I'm sorry to hear that. How about some water?"

Nate nodded continuing to look around. "What do you have so far?" he asked.

"Not much at all," Raylan answered showing him the notebook.

"Well at least you know your name," Nate answered tapping the pen on the notebook. "Well let's see what I can do. We need to keep the bastard in jail for Helen."

"Go for it kiddo," Raylan said sipping his bitter brew.

Nate began to furiously write as his father marveled at the boys abilities. He sipped and conversed with Lindsay. Smiles were shared across the bar as Nate continued his activity oblivious to the growing chemistry around him.

Suddenly the air pressure seemed to change as Robert Quarles and Wynn Duffy entered the bar. Raylan got up and met the two trying to understand the logic of this move. "I tried to tell him this wasn't a great idea," Wynn explained.

Raylan waited for Quarles to speak but the man was preoccupied as he gazed at Nate who had spun around on his barstool and was watching the impromptu meeting. He was transfixed on the boy who fearlessly stared back.

"Hey, you came here to talk so talk," Raylan ordered.

"Is that your boy?" Quarles asked with a dreamlike voice.

"Your business is with me," Raylan said trying to get him to refocus.

Duffy sat looking very uncomfortable as Quarles continued to gawk at the younger Givens.

Once Quarles got on point, the conversation was brief and then turned threatening. Raylan, not one to stand idly by after being threatened, ordered everybody out of the bar. He had shot a hole in the ceiling to let the man know he was serious and ready to discuss this little warning that had been extended. Quarles had laid down a threat that Raylan just couldn't allow. If the man wanted to have it out, then he was more than happy to oblige.

"Okay then, so how does this work, we count it down, I draw first?" Quarles asked.

"It doesn't matter how we play this as it will end with you dead on the ground." Raylan answered.

"You really want to do that in front of your boy?" he asked thrusting his head in the younger Givens direction.

"It's not like I haven't seen it before," Nate called back from his spot at the bar.

"Nate, you were supposed to leave with the group." Raylan yelled not taking his eyes off of his opponent.

"What and miss all the fun?"

Suddenly they all heard a shotgun being cocked. "I'll tell everybody something," Lindsay said, "don't think that I can't or won't paint that wall behind you courtesy of this weapon that I am more than comfortable using."

Quarles nodded his head smiling. "Another day then. Nate, it was nice to meet you." The men departed, leaving an eerie quiet in their wake.

The remaining trio made the short trip back to the Given's homestead where Nate continued to work on his father's statement while Lindsay and Raylan grew a little closer.

"You sure this is okay? I mean your boy isn't stupid or far," Lindsay said as they were disrobing.

"No he is far from stupid, but believe me he won't mind," he assured.

And Raylan was right, Nate could have cared less. He was just happy his father was home and entertained. He put the finishing touches on the statement and put it on the dining room table. He had already asked his father if he could go to court but was told no. He had debated about throwing a tantrum but decided his father had been somewhat serious with his 'side of the road' threat the week before, so he let it be.

The next morning Raylan yawned as he sauntered out into the living room. Nate swallowed a pill and finished his juice. "Have a good night?" The boy asked as he looked up at his father with a big smile.

"Yes, thank you," Raylan replied.

"The statement is on the table, just read it verbatim and it should be fine. Are you sure I can't come?"

"Yes I am. I don't want you anywhere near Dickie Bennett. Your place is at school, so be there learning so you can write the next statement."

"You have no problem taking me to a bar, but yet are uncomfortable taking me into a court of law. You make no sense."

"Hmm, believe it or not, you are not the first to say that."

"I believe it," Nate said as he dashed out the door.

"So, are you ready?" Art asked as they met up before heading into the courtroom.

"I'm good and ready. Nate wrote out a statement."

"What's it say?" Art asked.

"I don't know, I never read it," Raylan admitted.

"Give it to me," Art said grabbing it from the deputy.

Dickie Bennett is a miscreant of the highest regard. He has earned the right to be where he is and has spent much of his life. His family offers no support as they are either dead or in prison themselves. This offender is just that; an offender and has proven he can be no more than that very title. His life has revolved around corruption and injustice as he simply knows no other way of life and it is clear that he is beyond rehabilitation. There is no doubt that he killed someone very dear to me and irrevocably changed the course of my life as he ended hers.

And if that wasn't enough, this man before you was also responsible for kidnapping and attempting to murder me, a US Deputy Marshall. If not interrupted there would have been one more death on this man's hands. And that is what exactly will happen if he is set free.

Art nodded his head as he read the words. "Stick with this and Judge Reardon will keep Bennett in jail forever and your paths will never cross again."

Raylan forced a smile as Art handed him the paper back. They followed David Vasquez into the courtroom where Dickie was waiting. The judge came in moments later and Raylan stepped to the front of the room. "I'd rather just stand here, if that's okay?"

"Sure, let's just get on with it," the judge said.

Raylan cleared his throat and looked at the paper. He had skimmed it quickly while they were waiting for his honor. He couldn't deny that his son hit a homerun, but as he cleared his throat and introduced himself he found something nagging at him.

After his introduction he began to read, but as he looked up at Dickie and then back at his cheat sheet the last line stood out to him. He hesitated, knowing his son would be upset, but he couldn't help himself.

"You know what, let him out. He won't be able to keep his nose clean. He'll screw up again and if he doesn't end up dead, he'll put himself right back in jail."

All eyes were on Raylan who shrugged them off as he took his seat. Art's eyes grew large, "did that go how you rehearsed it?"

"No, not really."

"Nate's going to be pissed."

"Yep, guess I'll have to owe him."

.

"What do you mean you didn't read it?" Nate demanded to know.

"Well I adlibbed and it didn't work out so well," Raylan admitted.

"He deserved to stay in jail, he deserves to die…wait," Nate paused the light going on in his eyes; "I see what you're doing."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I get your plan."

"What plan son?"

Nate nodded and smiled. "I have no idea what I'm talking about Dad." Nate went back to his room and realized that with Dickie back out in the world he was much more susceptible to taking a stray or not so stray bullet.

The hours that unfolded for Robert Quarles since his eyes had danced over Nate Givens, had been long and filled with his image. The boy's face was that of an angel, his thick hair falling perfectly, his dark eyes intense yet amused, his father's features tempered by what must have been his mother's offerings. His body lean, tense but not tentative. This was the child he had dreamed of for so very long.

As he disrobed his thoughts returned again and again, to the prize that he would have one day. Images of what he would do with the boy danced in his head as he walked into the bathroom to where the bound prostitute awaited. This was not the prize he was seeking, but it would do…for now.