Death Takes a Holiday

by owlcroft

This is a way-back story from Pamela Rose. Once again, I apologize for the formatting.

Death Takes a Holiday

by

Pamela Rose

Hardcastle was hurting. He was tired end pissed off and for once felt every minute of his age. But he shooed off the police sargeant who urged, for the umpteenth time, that he check into e hospital. Hospital, hell. What did those quacks know? He'd been worked over by experts in his day-these creeps had been strictly amateur. No bones broken. A couple of days and he'd be playing gorilla basketball with McCormick again.

Wincing as he went up the steps, he amended that to a week. Wasn't es tough as he'd been e few years ago. Hated like hell to admit it, but McCormick was his muscle now. It went against the grain but, except for flukes like this, he'd be glad to keep it that way. Mark could take it. That pretty-boy face hid a real bone-head disposition and a hell of a lot of grit. Whined e lot, did ol' McCormick, but all these young kids;that these days...

He paused inside the door. The house t!s dark and too quiet. It felt empty; emptier than could be explained by just no one be ing here at the moment. It felt-abandoned.

"McCormick!" he bellowed. Silence.

Turning around, he headed for the gatehouse, noting grumpily that the hedges needed trimming and the grass hadn't been cut for a couple of weeks. "That lazy goof-off," he grumbled to himself, "I'm not around to chew his behind and he lets the place go to rack and ruin."

There was a single light burning in the gatehouse and he nearly stumbled over a ratty gym bag inside the door. Kicking it to one side with a curse, it took a second for it to register as the one McCormick had brought with him when he moved in.

63

McCormick himself was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, the stereo playing some rock and roll in-a-godda-de-vida l960's crap, as usual, but for once the decibel level was almost timid.

"McCormick!" he bellowed again, expecting a happy rush toward him. The boy was so damned enthusiastic; he'd never been able to teach him to tone it down-

But there was no reaction at all; the other man didn't even bother to look up. Instead, he grabbed a glass from the table and gulped down the contents. "Fuck off, I've got enough ghosts al-

ready."

Spotting the nearly empty bottle of whiskey on the end table, Hardcastle realized McCormick was drunk. Hore than that, stone, failing-down and-ready-to-puke soused. He blinked in surprise.

The kid had never been much of a drinker; didn't have either the

head or the stomach for it.

Hark?" he said tentatively. "It's me, Hilt."

McCormick closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the sofa. "Yeah, sure. Who else?"

Puzzled and more than a little worried, Hardcastle moved clos er, sitting down on the couch. "Hey, kid, what is all this, any-

way?"

"C, _ w y!" Mar: said dully.

"Go away?" Hardcastle blustered. ''Well, that's real nice!

What the hell is going on here, damn it!"

McCormick lifted his head and observed the other man with bleary eyes. "Marvelous. Now I'm halluc: nating. Can't wait for the pink elephants." •

centered, perhaps, but since he knew he wasn't, he hadn't even bothered considering the impact. Actually, he hadn't even imagined anyone would have reason to believe, although he'd been present when they'd pushed Artie into the truck and watched it blow sky high against those gas tanks. True, Artie and he were of much the same size and age, and there couldn't be much to examine after

iJial explosion, but still-two lousy weeks and they declare you worm food? What a crock.

But they did believe it. The fact was beginning to sink in_re e bering the way that rookie- iid turned-white as a stieetwfieii the Judge·had-stumbled up to the squad car and i entifferhimseif.".

He'd been so numb at the time, he'd only half listened to-tfie ex

clamations, too anxious to get home and ache in peace:-

And now he came home to this? Bad enough total strangers jump at any little evidence that he'd bought it-but Mar:k? Laying around here, drinking up his aged whiskey, letting the place go to pot? The crummy little ex-con, he'd have his hide for this.

Grabbing the young man's shoulder, he shook him hard. "Wake

upI Tell me what's going on here!"

The blue eyes regarded him calmly and Hardcastle felt a twinge of real concern. McCormick was more that drunk, he was five min utes on the edge of passing out from it. Glancing at the bottle again, the Judge asked, "How much have you guzzled down tonight?

Surely not all of this?"

It was Mark's patented Beaver-Cleaverish smile; rueful, sweet, heavy on the dimples, hold the freckles. "Yep. Not to mention

the scotch an' tha-"

"My twenty year old scotch!" Hardc t:1-e broke .in, outraged.

"!' ve had that bot:tle (or teii year l''

"You n'ver r!n .H," rk pointed_c:iut reasonab y,

"Hey! It' me, y9u dl! Y_I How much have you had to drink,

"That's why it's so old, damn it!" Hardcastle felt_Hke belt

I

anyway?"Heglanced atthe bottle,recognizingitasonethathad set on hissideboardfor years."Wait a minute,1o1ho saidyoucould

drink my liquor?"

Incongrously, Hark started giggling. "Why not? You can't

drink it; you're dead, rem'b r?" I

Feeling as if he had missed something important, Hardcastle I stared at the young man, tempted to respond furfously, but suddenly unsure. lie recalled something the cop ha said; something he'd \ been too weary and too put out to listen to at the time. 1houghi. l

you. wvt dead, - .. co1tone11.,. caA 8.l.,;uud ••• S.-ody ..tud. • •

He'd ig ored it, eager to get home and tq_bed after. , hot bath a d seeing McCormick. T o µff to a pipe in

·an emptyvar oµse,-sleeping on a_ -and-eating_.cald. pork and beans kind of narrowed his focus to essentials, It had never occured to him that anyone would believe he was dead. Self-

H

ing him, wiping off that smug smiie- except: the smile didn't reach the desolate eyes, and there·was something in the limp (igure that_ held him back. "Wait a minute. You dranlc all of that and all of tfils?"- - - -

Mark grinned beatifically. "Yep, almost finished. One more bottle to go. Napolean brandy-"

"What?! Jesus Christ, haven't you ever heard of alcohol poi soning, not to mention grand larceny? Look, I can't figure out why you haven't passed out already, but-"

"That's what I'm hopin' for," McCormick broke in. "Hasn't worked yet."

Disgusted, Hardcastle leaned back, shaking his head woefully. "Leave you for two weeks and you-"

65

"\,'hat'd you expect for- a wake," HcCor-mick snapped, "kool aid?" He lifted his glass again. "Her-e's to the best damn judge ever- to gi' a guy har-d time...Milton C. Har-dcase-"

Har-dcastle caught his ar-m. "\,'hat the hell are you talking about, McCor-mick? Wake? I'm right here."

Mark star-ed at him. "So you are. fDon' tell me you're gonna pop up ev'ry time I've had a few too many. Ev'n you couldn't be so mean. Give a guy a break, Judge. You had your- shot at·me.

Parole's over. Finished my time wit' you six man's ago. 'Ma free agent. Stuck 'round 'cuz I felt sor-ry f'r- you."

"Oh you did, did you?"

McCor-mick str-aightened on the couch. "Sure. Now you're dead

an' I can go. ·Stop playin' Prince Perfect an' be m'self again.,;-

"Playing what? No" hold on there, McCormick. First of all, I'm not dead and I don't want to have to hit you to pr-ove it, and second-"

"Believed it all, too, d'n't you, Judge? Fell for- it like a true donkey. Sucker- bor-n ev'ry minute, right?:.'.-J

Feeling more confused than ever and wondering why Mark was so angr-y, the Judge decided he didn't have the str-ength to deal with it at the moment. "Okay, kid, whatever's bugging you'11 have to wait. I'm too bushed to-"

\''Had to go and get killed on me, didn't you?" Mar-k cut in suddenly. "I goddamn told you not t' go without me, but you always think y' ken handle anythin'! Wrong fer once,.weren't you, Judge?

No one there to pull your as§_Q the fire this time. So you got 'burned...burn'd..." The wor-ds caught, choking in his throat, and

he buried his face in his hands, muffling a whimper of despair.

"!) unn yQU•.,!1'!10 you.'.! 11 •

Stunned, Hardcastle just star![! at him. "McCormick? Hark?" He put·a··tentative hand ori the trembling s ould!J:. "Now you know I'm okay, right? I'm sorry if you··were··h·urt, but it's all over, kid." • •

McCormick looked up, his blue eyes flooded with tears. "Leave me alone damn you. I've done my bit, played your game. Clipped y'r dam'd hedges, mowed·y•r lawn, danced y'r tune. 'M done now.

I can live without you! Stop haunti.n'_me!"

"McCormick, I'm not- Oh, for God's sake, wake up! I'm sit ting right here beside you. It was all some stupid mistake. You can't be that drunk!"

McCormick swayed on the couch, and Hardcastle thought he

would fall over, but Mark clung to the sofa arm and stayed upright, eyes wild and glazed. "Mistake...yeah, mistake. All of it. I

was a fool to go 'long with it. Shoutd'ye known it'd never work... coinin I here. Figured I could con you' make you think I ·wuz••Hister

Clean. 'Cept it wuz 1£!._ conned me, right? \,'hat a jok ," ••

Hardcastle §uddimly felt §haky himself. He was so damned tired a ! ) hurt like .the devil f om,H pounding t ey re ceived. He ju t CQ!lQn' -h!n le all this J'rbnness right no'!'.

Unemotional by both training and nature, he'd still expected to

come home and field off hugs of joy from someone he'd considered the best friend he'd ever had, and was o dly disappointed at its absence. But he wasn't prepared for this: It was-sinking in, very slowly, that Hark believed he was some kind of hallucination

!ff ghost;.JToo damn exhausted to feel anything but impatient with the whole mess, he certainly didn't feel up to snapping the kid back to reality.

"Listen, McCormick. I'm tired, I wanna go to bed. You got beefs, tell me tomorrow, okay? I'm not in the mood to play games right now."

Hark caught his arm as he started to rise. "No...don't leave

me!"

Irritated, Hardcastle glared at him. "Thought you told me to shove off?"

a

"Yes,but...Hellyareyoudoin'thistQme,Jl!dge?" Harkhunchedupandbegancylrii.-·1twasverysoftweeping,as if he'd cried himself outsomuch there wasn't muchleft.

"Aw, kid..." The Judge put his arm around liim awkwardly and Hark immediately clutched at him, snuffling against his shirt.

"Hey, there...hey...it's okay. McCormick, I'm alive, dammi !" He glanced arotind the rnooi, feeling helpless, never good at hand ling this kind of emotional 9utburst. Coming from HcCorm s . it

was even more unsettling. Sure, the boy had always been a bit puppyish and over affectionate at times, but deep down _h was a hard cookie. Seeing the cooki crumble o de istyely was more

than he·feff qualified to iiia age_- Why couldn It the kid wait until he'd had a few houi-s dec;nt sleep "and a-silid meal? 'J ez: • • '

"Come on, kid, what's wrong with you?" he said gruffly, still holding the boy closely and patting his shoulder gingerly-as if comforting a dangerous Great Dane. "You can see I'm just fine.

I'm not dead-" He broke off abruptly. Or maybe he couldn't.

Did Mark still think he was a ghost? Certainly he was drunk as a coot, but drunk enough to dream up a ghost solid enough to slobber on? Self-consciously, he pushed Hark away. "Come on, McCormick. Get hold of yourself, kid. I'm not dead, for Chrissake. You can see that."

Hark pulled himself upright with a drunk's particularly stiff

brand of dignity.-r;;'n fade away

then. Don't need you, You'v

Hardcastle thought about it. Yeah, it maight seem strange to

-g- off." -

...

"P-a·i·d-you-Whatthehellareyout-a-lkin'about?-"

"You know. Your stinkin' will. Mark snarled, reaching for his gTass-and missing. The liquid soaked into the carpet unnoticed by either. Mark simply grabbed up the bottle and took it down another half inch before the Judge could jerk it away.

an outslder;-taRing in-an-ex=con;·espedaily ki.d-aspretty-as HcCormic iiilng him a home and money and, fih lly; leaijini pr c tically ever:fthiiig to him. Did look odd. In sprte·of himself, Hardcastle couldn't help grihning; thinking of hfoself as a sugar daddy was hilartous. And- thinking of McCormick as a submissive little hustler was even funnier:'- "Poor Skid Mark. Hust be tough living down being a kept man, huh?"

"You're laughing?"

ere

"Stop_thatl God_ knows you've had enough already! Your eyes cro ing, you fool. What's all this about my will? How-do

"Well, you'vf:l gqtta admit, it is funny, kid. Never fig11rE?

you to-:;,grry_aiiout app arances_" - - - -

you know about that?"

- •.,-fi:. I

McC r fell back limply. 'Read it yesterday...lawyer wanted it all cl ared up... Two days after the coroner's verdict.. decent -intervai, right?" _JI - turned _to the_other man, findil)g a surge of enei-gy tg it up_on his own. "l)amn you,-Judge: Why'd

you do it? -Why!" - -

Still trying to take in the jarring fact that he'd actually been declared dead, Hardcastle stared at him blankly. "Why'd I what?"

"Leave it to me, dammit!"

Hardcastle looked at the furious, hurting face and didn't

know how to answer, wasn't quite sure of the question. "What?"

"Oh, you left a decent amount to relatives, a few things to your aunts...enough to keep the courts off my back, but the rest- the house, your stocks...even the- damn truck you burned up in... you left it all to me. How could·you do such a rotten thing?:. J

Hardcastle blinked, feeling much as he had when he'd been punched by one of Ricco's bullyboys a few hours ago. "Let me get this straight: you're upset because I left you everything? Isn't it supposed to be just the opposite: mad because I didn't leave you anything?" -

"Don't give me that shit!" McCormick tried to make a drama tic rise to his feet and failed miserably; only the Judge's restraining grip on his arm kept him from falling flat on his face. "You think I'm some cheap golddigger you can buy off?"

Bemused, Hardcastle smiled. "Is that what everyone thought? Funnj, I never even considered that. Should've, I suppose. You mean it hurt your pride having everyone think you were my autumn

fling?- Saw me as senile and queer, huh?0 He began to chuckle, tickled at the- whole idEfa. "Sorry, but j-ou'r-e not my idea of a

hot date, McCormick. You may be cute, but I prefer a larger bra size."

"Yeah, they all thought that," McCormick came back sharply.

"What else-were they t' think? Even judges are warped, ya know."

- .- • -·-•-·-

easy:" - -

"Youson' 'tgiveadamnwhJ:pl'!opl! think.But_you're-notb11Jin'-meoffthfs

"Buying you off?" !{ow Hardcastle was definitely confused. "Yeah. Well, I'm not takin' it, hear me? An' you can just

go back to heaven or hell or wherever you came from and take that with you!"

Hardcastle paused, understanding finally and certainly that Mark was in too deep of an alcoholic haze to ever realize he wasn't imagining the Judge's presence. It was hard to believe, but ob viously true. Mark was convinced he was talking to a dead man.

In a bizarre way, it even made sense. After the coroner's report and the reading of the will, Mark would be forced to accept his death. And once he had, as drunk as he was, it would be even hard er to relinquish the idea. Safer not to, maybe. Building up hope was dangerous and for someone who had been disillusioned as many times as Mark McCormick...

"Oh, kiddo, I'm sorry," he said softly. "Didn't want you to feel like this. !t:'ll be-tieHerr.-n:fie-morn1rig. You'll be straight enough to unders nd then. Let's get you· to bed;" - -

"Nol" Mark fended off the helping hand.

-"What are you g"anna do, sleep on the sofli?11

"I'm gettin' out, that's what," Mark said harshly. "All packed and·ready." He gestured toward the gym bag in the entrance. "See? Movin' on."

!lardcast! J lt.a -pang in thE! pit of his stomach. "Leaving?I' "Sure. Should've done it two years 'go. Screw the old buz

zard anyway. Hangin' 'round here growin' moss, cleanin' the

stinkin' swimmin' pool, geez, what a laugh."

'tkCormick-" He stopped, unable to say what he wanted to. "Is that all you're taking?" he finished finally.

"All I came with, isn't it?" Mark pointed out coldly.

"Except for the whiskey you've been guzzling."

Even drunk as he was, McCormick flushed guiltily, like a little boy caught munching a windowsill pie. "Owes me that," he said defiantly. "A good drunk, owes me that much." Then he grinned; a drunken, lopsided Tom Sa yer grin. "He'd kill me if h! I snitched it-" He blinked, then turned to·1:h Judge.

,i "You'd kill me if you knew I was messin' up like this. Good ol.'

Hardcase. Tow the line or he'll string you up...Judge_Roy 13eanoo,." "That bad, am I?" the Judge asked softly.

-M,n:!s.'s face contorte , _his bottol!I lip _to stave off the_ tears. "No :u: wasgood...too good. Knew it couldn It

"S l.. are you leavin'?"

The blue eyes stared at him, bloodshot, lids heavy. ."You bastard. You can't pay me off. Pay forget you. Accept your death: Forgive you for dyin' on me like that. No way! 'S what you thought, isn't it? Grab the money, have a big party... oh God..." The pain in the voice brought a lump to the Judge's

throat. "I don't 'lianl: it,.. J?U hear me? None of it. You made m

iove "you, you son'va bitch, and you don't. got enol!g!i !i 11 in' DlOnl;!y to make me forget that!"

. fl rdcastle's breath caught. It was a couple seconds before he could let it out again, and his bruised ribs protested the ef fort. He needed very ba ly to lie down-knew now that he probably should Ive gone to !:he hospital after all. But he was very glad. he··hacin't. McCormick would've been gon!:! when he got back, and right now he thought he could stand anything but that. He felt a strange surge of happiness and sadness all at once.

'.'M rlc., that's not why I left it to you. Not to make you feel

guilty."

"Oh yeah?" McCormick sneered. "Why else?" He grabbed up the bottle again and his fingers were so uncoordinated that it dropped, rolling across the carpet, spilling amber liquid. He reached out for it and tumbled down, striking his head on the table. Hardcastle knelt down beside him, pushing the table out of the way.

l''Why'd you leave me...I hate you...for that..." The words • were muHied agai hi sho'!\ er, but harsh; angry·and hurting.

"I. .. believeci·in you..." - - • • ••

"I'm sti l her ,..ldd'. I'm not going anywhere." "No••.you're dead. Left me...told ya not to go...never hurt

this bad before...hate you...for dyin'...I've got nl!thin'...no

one. ."

"It was a mistake, Mark. They screwed up; I'm alive. Please don't do this. Never wanted to hurt you this much." He rocked the young man tenderly, feeling things he hadn't felt for years. It scared him in a way. nowing he'd come to love this crazy kid, he'd never noticed how deep it ran until now-certainly hadn't

realized ru:w strongly it had affected [le.. Habit made him accept

the responsibility, and selfishness made h1.m glad of it. But he'd never pictured this much pain; never thought about it. Mark was in a deep emotional nightmare and he couldn't drag him back. His sup" death had triggered a lot of nasty shadows from Mark's past,- d although the Judge refused to be any half-baked psychia trist, he was aware this might be the only chance to air a lot of concealed problems. lcCormick's happy-go-luclcy, piac:i. hid a hell of a lot of pain.

''What's hurting yCu?" h,E! i.!slced gently. "Tell me." "You're dead, damn you-"

"No, Hark, that's not all of it. Why are you so mad at me?"

Mark sniffed and the Judge winced, realizing Mark had just wiped his rather runny nose·on his shirt front.•

"I did't want to believe...it was true, Whate'r they said... couldn't be dead. Then...they came to...read the... Had to beliexe then. You'd never let me know any·or...that...unless...you w ren't comin' back••.ever!11 He stirred then, muscles rippling angrily ·as h;;pusti.eih:iImself up. "You bastard! You mustIve known I Id hate it•••'least I thought you would. Okay, maybe at first I was con ning you...but I figured you knew that:..6ut later..."

Hardcastle touched his cheek. "Maybe I just wanted you to have it."

"You okay?"

"No! It was the payoff.

Always thought of me as a con...

Laying flat on his back, McCormick's face twisted painfully.

figured it was the money I was after...that I would forget you. I

"Leave me the hell alone! Won't you ever leave me alone? Two weeks·; .an' ev'ry day you're here...looki11r over -:-"

donIt wanCit!. Won'Cfouch it I

don't need it-don't need you!"

I won't stay here without you-

he broke off, choking, tears coming again in hurtful gasps.

The Judge gathered him up in his arms and held him tightly, for once forgetting his aversion to sentimentality, unembarrassed by the emotional catharsis, "It's okay, kid, cry. We all do some times..." He realized that his own voice was breaking and his eyes burned. He was too tired, he rationalized, he couldn t help it.

"It wasn't intended as an insult, son," Hardcastle said softly.

"Don't call me that!" McCormick twisted around in his arms. "You tol' me once I wasn't a substitute for your son. Wasn't good· enough; I suppose..."

71

\/

"No!"Hardcastlepulledhimbackroughly."That'snotwhatI meanCiiCaii."

Mark laughed bitterly. "Well, here's a joke for you: you've been my father. Never had one. Oh yeah, I know I found him fin ally, but he wasn't•..Christ, what a laugh...he wasn't right. He wasn't what I wan- what I needed. Wasn't as good es you. You

were my friggin' dream dad, ain't that a hoot? I loved you...more than I could've ever loved him."

Hardcastle tightened his grip on the broad shoulders, throat too tiglit to respond even if he'.d known what to say.

McCormick wasn't finished, though. "But I was never good 'nuff for you, know that. I tried...God help me, I did try. At first it was just to con you, get loose of y'r strings. Always good at that: you swallowed it whole. Trusted me a long time be fore you oughto've. Maybe that was it. Why it stopped bein' a con. Woke up one day, you barked at me and...an' I liked it. Felt good. Belonged to someone. Y'didn't cut me much slack...but I knew it wasn't tiecause I...I didn't need it. For once in my screwed up life I needed an anchor, not green light. Couldn't treat life like a friggin' race track. 'Ad to slow down an' take the curves with some sense." Re was shaking again, wound up so tight, the tension was like a live wire through his body in spite of the alcohol. "I loved you, damn it! Then you had to go and get yourself blow up!.:!

Hardcase Hardcastle was melting, and wondered if he wasn't as drunk from exhaustion as Hark was from booze. ke pressed his cheek tightly against the curly hair. "Then I had the nerve to go and leave you everything. Obviously still trying to prove you were a rat." He smiled ruefully. "What a jerk I am."

"Yeah," McCormick agreed readily, upset and offended, totally unconscious of the gentle sarcasm. "That was rotten, Judge. As if it was what I wanted or expectt!.. Shit...made me feel worse...

not better. Can't you see that?f I'm not gain' to forgive you for

dyin' on me_just 'cuz you left me somebread.- Not enough. Won't let y' go that easy."

"Maybe I left it to you because I knew you weren't xpecting it," Hardcastle suggested quietly. "Or maybe it was just because... I love you, too, kid."

McCormick stiUe.n d uneasily. "Hardcase? Nah, no way. Likes

me some iiiaybe•••but..." He sh_ook his _heaij

Hardcastle just grunted, realizing it was a lost cause at the moment. Not too much was getting throught the whiskey-haze in Mark's brain. Hostly just what he wanted to accept, and right now that was all bad. Understandable maybe. The poor kid couldn't afford to let go. Had to hang onto the anger as a lifeline. It was always like that with Mark: slide by the real feelings with

jokes or anger or sarcasm. Push them away until he could deal with them.

"Okay, kid, enough. Time to get you to bed, and me, too. Come on." lie straightened up, trying to lift Mark's almost dead weight.

"Nope. I'm leavin': Hark said stubbornly. "All packed an' ev'ything..."

Breathlessly, in the process of getting the lax form to his very unsteady feet, Hardcastle said, "If your knees won't even lock...you won't be able to even get in the blasted Coyote, let alone...drive...the damn thing..." He grunted again with the effort. "Come on, McCormick, give me a little help here."

Mark smiled sweetly. "Okay." And promptly slipped further down in the Judge's arms. "You're v'ry strong f' a ghost," he observed, then passed out completely.

"I've been workin' out," the Judge panted dryly, struggled to balance the unwieldly figure. It took some doing, but he finally managed to lift the limJ) form into his arms. Taking one

look at the flight of stairs to kark's bedroom, he turned resigned ly towards the sofa and lowered McCormick onto it, stretching him out on his back. He eyed the soft easy chair nearby and lowered himself into it with a weary sigh. He didn't want to leave Hark alone in the condition he was in, and in a deeper, unacknowledged, sense, the Judge wasn't quite ready to be alone either.

He glanced over at the full clothed, totally comatose McCor mick, refusing to expend any more effort in that direction. Sleep ing in his clothes wouldn't kill him. "I may be your pop, kid, but I sure as hell ain't ready to be your mother." But looking

at the young, softly snoring face, he felt a curling warmth of content in his stomach.

"You're okay, kid," he said gruffly, and promptly fell asleep.

•••

Dawn light was 9 ing in th ough the window when Hardcastle was awakened bytfie struggle nearby :- ••• • -· -·· - _

McCormick was lying on his stomach, face buried in his arms, moaning and tvisting as if trying to escape some private horior:

Hardcastle prodded him ruthlessly in the side with his foot. "Would you settle down, please? I'm trying to get some sleep, for God's sake!"

Suddenly awake, the curly head lifted. "Huh?" lie stared at Hardcastle blankly. "What?'.' A minute went by, then another. "Judge?"

7J

.).

"Yeah, now will you go back to sleep?" 0J dge!"

who

"ForChrissake,McCormick,willyoustopsayingthat?Iknow

rt·· ani ,.- •• -

:•r.'. oh my God...it's youl You're here...alive..." He reached out tentatively to touch the solid leg; \iriable to believe it.

"I know; you thought I was dead and I'm not. So that's set tled. Now will you shut up and go back to sleep?"

There was another long silence so intense curiosity drove Hardcastle to open his eyes. McCormick was staring at him, not

even breathing. A fat, almost perfe t ear slipped 'his·cheek to-plop on the sofa. lie was biting his lower lip t - contain any noise.·

The Judge got up and sat ! next to Mark on the couch. "Oh, come here," he said grumpily.

McCormick went into his arms, holding the older man so. tightly his bruised ribs protested the pressure.

"Lighten up, kid."

HcCorm! jerked back self-consciously. "Sorry, it's just..." Hardcastle tugged him back. 111 know. It's okay. I'm fine,

boy. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere."

He could feel the body shaking and knew Mark was crying again, but it was very different from the tears last night.

"I thought:..they told me•••"

"It was a mistake. Ricco set it up to look like I'd bought it. That way nobody would be looking for me. Gave him time to clear up his operations before the Feds moved in. Didn't know about you. You did give the evidence to the police, didn't you?" he added as an afterthought.

The curly head lifted. "Of course, I did. Just like you said. Caught most of 'em, too. But Ricco made it out of the country."

"Ho, he didn't." At the startled look, he elaborated. "He was laying low with a couple of his boys in a warehouse on 10th. Kept me alive as insurance. They finally got careless." Then, more honestly, he added, "I got lucky. Anyway, Ricca's behind

bars now, and if I have anything to say about it, he'll stay there."

He noticed the expression on McCormick's face. "What's wrong?" "!...thought you were dead. I'm orrr.. God, I'm sorry,"

'"nw don't st ..- h t c; :-; i-·;:f- : - o : t e- grnn r. they could sure as hell . Wh ·t"ei -ao. yq! tifog? HI s okay."

"No. No, it's not. I should've kept looking_ Should've he-l-pe-i-l·y-ou-·-ou-t·-·s-om-eho-w.-:.-11 • - - - •• -

"H ld on - You_did tiat I t:old Y!?U to do, you si:ayed put a _gnt...for help at the ight t! - They got the rest of the gang. didnIt-they? We - e i)l f- h rii;-!ind be

tween u , we.did_it._ -what_ !"l ;..:J "Is it?"

Hardcastle took a deep breath. "Listen, I'm sorry you-" "Are you okay?" Mark cut in. "Did they hurt you?"

"I told you I'm all right, kid. A little sore is all. I'11 live." Immediately, he regretted that particular form of expres sion.

Mark's face blanched. "Yeah, well..." He turned away. "About last night...don't remember too much, but I must've been a mess. Sor-ry you had to come home to that. I guess I lost my head. Hope it wasn't too bad." He started to get up, but Hardcastle caught him.

"Sit still," he ordered gruffly. "You must have one hell of a hangover."

"No, not really. Mostly just a headache."

"Must be nice to be young," Hardcastle mused vrily.

\"Judge, I...di4n't meant make a scene. Last night, I...I could!' belie e-it was you. What vei !"said..."··

"Shut up," the Judge said firmly. "I want to tell you some thin'g." He couldn't see Mark's face, as it was pressed against his shoulder, and he was glad. Wasn't sure how to say what he wanted to say, but he knew it was important for Mark to hear it.

Maybe even important for him to express it. Those days chained u , certain he 1oasn't going to make it out, Mark was strong in his thoughts. He'd practiced a dozen conversations like this,

:!11 of then very logi ! and so easy to say in his mind. Mark needed to know how he felt, had always needed to hear it. The time had just never seemed r-ight, and he was too avkward 1oith this kind of thing. Nothing had changed on that score. Every comforting phrase he had planned deserted him. Instead, he tried for straight truth: "It's about my son."

McCor-mick look up, rprised. "Judge-" ,

"Jlear-·me out. What I once said about you not being a s11 ;;t:i-_ tute r-_my son, I me nt it." •

"I know that," Mark said bleakly. "I1:'s okay. I never expec: ted to... Liiten, if I said something last night-"

"Will you shut up?" Hardcastle snapped. "You're not a substi-

75

tute for my son 'cause my son was a bum."

There was a second of startled silence, then, "What?"

Even though he cou_ldn't see it, he chuckled at the expression on McCormick's face. "It's no big deal, you know. I guess most kids are bums at one time or another. I know that now-just had a hell of a time accepting it then. He was like the rest of the punks runnlting around: long hair, patched jeans, wouldn't get a job, refused to go to school. Messed around with drugs."

Mark's eyes widened. He'd imagined something very different from any son of Hilton C. Hardcastle.

"As you can imagine, it \fSS quite a trial for me, I couldn't understand what was in his mind and l don't think l even tried

,-

it's the only guideline .we've got if we.w1n!;_1rny_

world. Sometimes I seem a Jtt le too gung-ho for yoy_but it's the way i feel:- Hy regret is the-t t •·m t ure he

. - - ·-·- -·

"I'm

sorry," M r-k said h ly. "God, I 1111sorry."

. -·· ••

s

)i'viL:learii d iii !Y L ! h- t :.-··- - - - - - - • - - •

TheJudgepattedhisshoulderabsently."Itwasalongtime ago_

Hark lifted hi ti !ld to look at him. "Why did you tell me thi ?"- - - • - - -• -

The Judge shrugged, .!Ltb. .Pther'§._ squarely. "ThoughS!LwaS:ume_you w y9y d n.•t }lave to live up to any one.- ·i loved my son, Hark, but he wasn't perfect. God knows, neither m 1: )my I shoul •t hay m e him doome hfng-that went against his conscience. I thought 1 was right. But nder

very much. We had some fights that made anything me and you have seem like a picnic. He was a bull-headed, independent little devil. Don't know where he got it. His roother probably."

McCormick rubbed his cheek against the comfortingly stocky shoulde , surpres ing a grin. "Had to've," he agreed pleasantly.

as

"Don'tgetsroart,11Hardcastle growled, buthepulled the youngmana-littlecloser."Anyway, hewasagood kid,deepdown. Brighthell,goodlooking, a breeze at most anythinghe tack led:..buthedidn! .Itwas suchablastedwaste,Icouldn' ,I growupandIguessIdidn'thave the patience toseethat."

"!. e,' Mark said softly, "you don't have to tell me this." "Yeah, maybe I do." He was silent for a moment. "The last

fight we had was the worst. He'd gotten his draft notice and

was heading for Canada. l was so damn mad, I thought I would kill him. A son of mine, a coward. I couldn't stand it. I wouldn't listen to his reasons; sounded more like excuses at the time. Any way, the next morning he was gone. I. tracked him dovn, of course, Wasn't hard. He wasn't really trying to hide. Found him in a

·commune north of San Francisco. Dragged him out by that greasy

if I would have the guts to say the same thing-ag -' 1 just want JQY !. Y. .Y !l !ren• §91l!.fncf9.f half-ass d replace ment for him. And you don't always h ve to be tiviqg up to some imaginary 0id f: ·Hewas hardly that. And I thought you ought

to know that" I. would Ive been quite h ppy if heId turned out just

like you fiaiie. With Hme iind iuck, I think he might' e."

and

rsllQweLJ!ainully."Thanks,Judge."Hesl! hand sh lyarC!Jnd_theder·-!1 huggeif·h mgently.'''!:'

Hardcastle savored the warmth for a lon mo ent._ ealiiing this was-probabfy-wnat he'·d been searching for. As far as he was concerned:-the con mari'Tn HaflOlcCormick was gone;-ieaving sin- cere, sweet reality:- •• • • •- •

- A ter-·bi he s_ !ed,! "Now will you, for God's sake, go back ·to sleep? You've got a lie11-o·ca·1ot·of work to·catch up on

today:Did-you see what a mess that lawn is in? And the-pool's full"'of guck- again. I told you about t t filter-," ·- ••

McCormick smiled contentedly. 11'\'E!s, Judge, I'll take care of it·." - • - - ••·•-· -

I

"Damn right, you will!"

McCormick hugged him tighter. "I'm glad you're back,"_he

\y

111op of hair he had. Yeah, I straighten!:!d him out, all right. Hardcase Hardcastle laid down the law. And he bought it. For once, he agreed with me. Poor kid, he was so confused. Didn't want to run at all, just wanted to understand why. I told him, Cod help me," Hardcastle paused, took a slow breath. "lie was hardly in Viet Nam a month before he was killed."

Hark cloi:ied his eyes, almost wishing the Judge had never told him-:

Hardcastle sighed. "If you're wondering, I don't regret what I toi him. I still think hj·wis right to go. Ii5just 'but...I can't change what I am, McCormick. I play by the rules 'cause

hi pered, • • • -•· • y

Hardcastle grinned. "Yeah, me too, kid:J

THE END