Page 35 of Indigo Sky

I walked into the shop a few minutes after opening. Roy, of course, was already there. Donny was too.

“Hey, Rev,” Donny said, shooting me a grin from behind the counter.

“Morning, Donny. How’s it going?” I stopped to lean against the countertop.

“Can’t complain,” he replied, engaging in the small talk that seemed to be the extent of our interaction over the past however many years since I’d started working there. “You?”

“Same.”

“Nate coming in today? Or is that son of a bitch sleeping off another hangover?” Donny saidson of a bitchin a way that made it hard to tell if he was joking or not.

“I—"

The door swung open forcefully, the glass rattling within its frame. In walked the angry customer from yesterday. The one with the Check Engine light. His face was red, his fists shaking at his sides. His bald head was gleaming in the early morning sunlight, and his mustache quivered above his pruned upper lip.

Startled, Donny shot out of his chair while I took a step from the counter to approach the man, assuming something had happened again with his car.

“Hey, how’s the—"

“You.” He pointed a stubby finger in my direction.

Taken aback by his tone, I flattened a hand to my chest. “What about me?”

“You’re the fuckin’ piece of shit who looked at my car yesterday.”

Roy stepped in from the back, wiping his greasy hands on a cloth. “Hey, Bill, what’s going on here?”

The guy aimed his angry, bulging eyes at Roy, his finger still pointing at me. “This fuckhead stole my goddamn wallet and broke into my house last night!”

“What?!” Roy and I both shouted in unison—Roy’s voice edged with anger, mine with surprise and panic.

“That’s right. Don’t think I don’t know it was you, you fuckin’ son of a bitch. Waving that gun in my face. I should call the fuckin’ cops—"

“Gun?” I interjected. “The hell are you talking about?”

Roy came to stand beside me, and although he had yet to say much of anything, it felt nice to have him there as this nutjob threw wild accusations in my face.

“Bill, I think there’s been a misunderstanding—"

“I know it was him! I went one place yesterday, and it washere. My wallet was gone by the time I got home, and this piece of shit was the only person I’d dealt with all fuckin’ day. He broke into my house last night, dressed in all black with a fuckin’ mask over his face. Scared the living shit out of my wife, you motherfuckin’ pirate son of a bitch.”

I started shaking my head, staring this guy down with an insistence to prove him wrong. “No. Dude, I—"

“Don’t you fuckingdudeme!” Bill jabbed his finger into my chest.

“Sorry. S-sir, I swear to you, I didn’t break into your house. I-I have no idea where you even live. I was at home all night. Seriously, I wouldn’t—"

Roy held an arm in front of me, putting a stop to my words. “Bill, this is a serious accusation you’re making here—you understand that?”

“I wouldn’t be making it if it wasn’t the damn truth!”

“And you’re sure it was Revan you saw in your house?”

I waited. I stared right into the rage blazing in Bill’s eyes and watched as he faltered during his consideration. He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t be. I had no doubt someone had been in his house. I had no doubt he thought it was me. But it couldn’t have been me, and he was beginning to doubt it.

“Someonewas there, Roy. And it was him. If it wasn’t him, he was in on it because it sure as shit was one of the crackheads you have working here.”

Roy crossed his arms as he glanced in the direction of Donny, still silent behind the counter, watching the show unfold with an unreadable expression on his face. “You calling my son a crackhead, Bill?”

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