Jocko

“Welcome to Sunnyville.” I read the sign at the city limits. “We made it, Luce. The first stop is my parent’s gravesite. I need to pay my respects.”

Driving down the road, I chat about losing them. “The days after the accident were dark. I was so angry. Most people don’t know this, but I would sneak into the graveyard to sleep with them under the stars. It sounds morbid when I say it out loud, but it helped.”

I hit the blinker and slow down to make the turn into Sunnyville Crematory and Mortuary. “I know they would be proud of the man I have become. Did I tell you I could have played pro baseball? No? Well, I could have, but I decided my life needed to matter more than making people cheer. I haven’t regretted my decision either. Not for one day.”

Parking, I pick up the bouquet of flowers for my mom and open the truck door.

“Come on. I want my parents to meet who is responsible for my safe return home.”

* * *

Turning down Willow Bend Street, I wonder out loud. “We are going to swing by Juicy Jorja’s old house and see what’s up. Is she going to be the one that got away? Or is she waiting for me to return?”

As I cruise by her family’s old house, she gets out of a car parked in the driveway. I hit the brakes and slow down as I hone in on her in full stalker mode. The first thing I notice is her hair is short, shoulder-length, cut in layers, and bounces as she walks. The second thing I notice is her body is still built like a brick house. All woman. All curves. Instantly, that old feeling only she was ever able to conjure rises out of my groin.

Watching her bound up the steps two at a time to unlock the front door tells me she still lives there.

I notice several additional interesting things as well.

There are no toys in her yard. Therefore, she isn't a mom.

There are a couple of small signs in the yard. An advertisement for a lawn care service and a warning that her house is protected by a security system. Therefore, she lives alone.

There is a For Rent sign on the house next door. Therefore, she needs a new neighbor.

I grin in the rearview mirror. “Looks like we have found a place to live.”

* * *

Rounding the corner off Willow Bend Street, I tell my boy, “Next stop, Aunt Betsy, and Chief’s house. Now, listen, if Moose is still alive, go easy on the old dog.”

“Waah. Waah.” Two short sirens pop off, and I glance in the rearview mirror to see a cop car tailing us.

“Well, shit.” I pull over on the side of the road and put my window down. “Stay calm, Luce.”

I lay my pistol on the dash in clear view and dutifully put my hands on the steering wheel in plain sight.

The officer walks up and sees the handgun. “You got a permit for that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Anyone sitting back there?” He leans in to look in the back.

“My dog.”

“License, registration, insurance, and carry permit, please.”

“They're in the glove box.”

The officer takes a step back, puts his hand on his weapon, and instructs, “Reach slowly and get them out. Keep your hands where I can see them at all times.”

Just then, another cop car pulls up, and Grant Malone, my first cousin, gets out. “What the fuck, man? Are you kidding me?” He strides over with no regard to the other officer, but tells him as he passes, “Lou, this is my cousin, the Navy SEAL, Jocko Malone.”

Office Lou takes a step back, so I unlatch my seat belt and exit the truck.

“Welcome home, Cuz!” Grant wraps me up in a big bro hug, slapping me hard on the back.