Honed Hero

Honed Hero

No sounds were heard, only a steady foot-pedal vibration every few seconds.

Thump thump.

Clay Rigby held his head inside a barrel of ice water. The sun shone on the back of his dampened shirt. After four minutes under, Clay parted the ice cubes as his head rose out of the water slowly. Holding his breath for another few seconds before inhaling. He turned around, face dripping water across his bumpy skin. He blinked a few times and glanced up at the clear blue sky.

He closed his eyes and focused on the sound of his heart. Once he reopened his eyes, he felt more awake. Dressing into his black outfit; vest, shirt, jeans, boots. Finally donning his favorite Stetson. He turned to a wall safe and opened it. He obtained a dark brown leather holster, with a platinum revolver. It was trimmed in gold. A small blade also hung from a placement within the safe which he grabbed. He exited his beige suburban home, and left it unlocked.

Clay bowed his Stetson toward his neighbor as he walked by.

"Good morning Vicky."

"Hey there Clay, how's it going with you?" Her eyes beamed while locking onto his.

He reciprocated the smile. "I'm mighty fine today. And yourself?"

"Oh it's going. But, my day would be a thousand times better if you could help me out."

Clay's face turned blank and nodded.

Vicky removed a crumpled cigarette from her bra and lit it. "There's this man. Don't know his name, he doesn't like answering questions." Vicky puffed on the cigarette and held the burning sensation in her throat.

Clay blinked calmly. "What's wrong with this man?"

Vicky sniffled and coughed briefly. Her eyes squinted back at him.

"He's coming into the shop. He's pushed a few customers, he even threatened my dad."

"Why is he hassling your shop?"

"Okay, well... my dad caught him trying to steal something. And now he won't leave us alone. Cops won't do shit."

"Alright. I'll deal with him."

Vicky smiled and broke into a short coughing fit. Clay walked down the sidewalk and headed uptown. A burly man with a buzzed head strode toward Clay. "Hey Cway! I got a job for ya." He spoke with a jovial rasp.

Clay barely smirked at him. "Hey Jeb. Can it wait a little? I got something to take care of first, won't be too long."

Jeb looked blankly at him with his mouth partly open. Finally blinking, he nodded. "Sure. Mind if I tag awong?"

Clay's smirk grew for a moment. "Come on."

The duo made their way through the neighborhood and took a shortcut through a quiet park. Jeb wore a light grey tank top which he systematically tugged near his collar. He wore sepia-tone jeans with a loose-fitting belt.

"We're almost there." Clay stared at a corner coffee house.

"We're goin' to Vic's?" Jeb scrunched his eyebrows.

"You can wait outside if you want. I won't be long." Clay looked into Jeb's eyes and smiled.

Jeb remained silent and nodded slowly. As they reached the coffee house Jeb stayed by the door as Clay entered. A strong odor of sweetener and baked goods filled Clay's senses. He walked by a few booths of customers who either stuffed their mouths with donuts and coffee, or were scrolling mindlessly on their phones. Clay approached the front counter and saw the cashier's face tense up. Her demeanor softened as she gazed into his eyes.

"Clay. I'm so glad to see you-" Her soft tone was interrupted by the bathroom door flinging quickly open.

"Are you that goody-good they've been crying about?" The man had sunken-in eyes and matted hair. His skin was almost as pale as a corpse.

"You've been disrupting the peace here. I need you to leave sir." Clay looked him softly in the eyes.

The man's mouth opened wide revealing his crooked teeth. His right arm moved carefully to the back of his right leg.

"You're no cop. I'm gonna do what I want man." The man nodded while pursing his lips.

"I will not let you hurt anyone."

"Pffft. Alright. I'll go." The man's hands returned to their sides.

The entrance opened and Vicky walked in, freezing at his gaze.

The man lightly chewed his bottom lip and shook his head. "Fuckin' bitch."

Vicky's gaze went from the man's waist, toward Clay's. She closed her left eye at him for a second.

The man squinted and cocked his head from Clay to her. "What was that?"

"Leave the building." Clay said.

Almost stretching his neck fully back, he twisted his view back to Vicky. His right hand attached to his right side pocket. He turned with his view back to Clay, aiming a rusted pistol at him. Clay had his revolver already targeted on him. As the man pulled his trigger, Clay's bullet raced through the man's fingers, the gun fell to the floor without firing. The room was silent until the man fell to his knees gripping his mangled hand.

"What the-

The man attempted to collect his weapon using his other hand, Clay stepped on it. The man removed a small blunt dagger from a leather pouch at his side. Clay swung his blade against his, causing it to fling into the wood next to them.

"Do it!" The man looked into Clay's eyes with widened eyebrows.

Clay grabbed the shoulder of the man, and thumped the top of his head with his blade's handle. The man drooped unconscious.

The small crowd of coffee-goers and pastry eaters alike cheered. Vicky released a long sigh.

"Thank you honey."

Clay bowed his Stetson. "I have other business that needs tending to. Have a good day. He bowed his Stetson to others who thanked him as he exited the coffee house.

Two cops entered the building as Clay exited.

"Thanks Clay!" One of them said in passing.

Jeb smiled and chuckled. "For a minute when you were inside, I thought you got bwasted."

Clay smirked. "What did you need help with Jeb?"