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Ashes in the Valley

Paul and Ruby Sue both come from different lives. Paul came from a mining family in the Rocky Mountains of Montana. He was told from an early age that he would never amount to anything, and a traumatic experience as a child left him mentally scarred for the rest of his life. Ruby Sue never had the luxury of rebelling against a menial life. She grew up in trailer parks and cars across the Southwest, before finally settling into desperate poverty in the dense marshes of Northeast Texas. Fists, switches, TV remotes, cigarettes, backhands, hot coffee; you name it, she’s had it used as a weapon against her. After both seeing their lives wasting away in front of them, they take the only escape route they can: the military. They meet on an Army base in Oklahoma, and from first sight, they see something in each other. She thought he could do great things, and he agreed. He would conquer the world, and she would help him do it, or so they thought, but drugs, mental illness, more money than they'd ever seen before and more problems with the law than either would ever imagine would put their dreams, love for each other and even their sanity to the ultimate test. What happens when money can't buy happiness? What do you do when you can't even trust your own thoughts? Who do you turn to when you've compromised your integrity one time too many? They escaped their old lives once before, but can anyone truly escape themselves? (This was originally written in 2019, and was in the early stages of being published before covid changed the world and that all fell through. So, here it is for you all to hopefully enjoy. It was originally written as the first of three novels, but all of them will be added into one collection here.)

Shaneghai · Realistic
Not enough ratings
8 Chs

1993

It was 1993.

Ruby had found herself again waiting at an airport to start the next chapter of her life. She was both excited and scared, not unlike she was when was in the same situation before. So much had changed, but so many of those uneasy feelings remained.

Every day that she'd been away from Paul and the baby had drug on like molasses, and she was more than ready to get the fuck out of Dodge. She did her best to talk to them every day, or at least every other day, but that was nowhere near enough.

Every day that she sat waiting, she couldn't help but worry. She was moving somewhere totally new, away from everything she'd ever known. Not that what she'd known before was worth sticking around for, but there was a certain safety in familiarity. Paul didn't have a job yet, and they were burning through what little savings they had in the meantime with her sending him almost every extra dime she had made each month. It wasn't that she didn't trust him, but they had a child to take care of now, and they couldn't afford to waste time on something that may never happen.

She couldn't even think about her baby without wanting to break down. She had heard his little voice babbling over the phone every time she had a chance, but that wasn't nearly close to the real thing.

For the first few weeks that she was alone, she cried almost every day. She was so angry at herself every time. She was supposed to be tough. It was something that she'd prided herself on since she was a kid, and it was the only thing that helped her survive her own family. But, somehow, without her baby, and her husband, she felt like a piece of her was missing. That made her angry, too, but in a different way.

She was angry that her own mother probably never felt about her the same way. In fact, her mother had spent the better part of the past few months trying to get in contact with her. It wasn't to apologize for how she'd acted when they were there, or say how much she missed her daughter, no. Her mother had only ever called to discuss two things: her terrible love-life and the problems she had with her man-de-jour, or how desperately broke she was trying to provide for herself and the kids.

Any attempt for Ruby to tell her that if she cut down on scratch-offs, the casino and her surely evolving drinking habit, she wouldn't have money problems, was met with scorn and attempts to shame her. Her mother had somehow developed her guilt-trip laying powers even more since she'd left, and she would get an earful every time she deigned to pick-up the phone. To her actual shame, sometimes it would work.

She wouldn't give her mother a dime for anything other than the kids, but she really had no way of knowing how much of what she sent actually ended up making its way to them. If she was being generous, it would be around fifty, realistically though, ten was the best she could hope for.

She never told Paul that she was sending her mother money, which also made her angry. Why should she feel bad about it? She'd earned it, right? She was busting her ass for that money and all he was doing was sitting on his and spending it. Those were the bad thoughts that she'd try to push away when she had them.

He was planning something. He must have been, but she didn't know what. If there was one thing she knew about Paul, it was that he was made for something bigger than what they had. He was smart and confident, but he needed someone to help keep him in check. She feared that without her with him, he would end up spinning his wheels and getting nothing done, and with every passing day, she was proven right.

She had to try her best and ignore it. She had her doubts about her last great journey into the unknown, and everything had turned out okay. She held onto that thought dearly as she heard her boarding call and she walked into her destiny.

The trip was long. She wanted to save as much money as she could, so she ended up getting a flight with a six-hour layover in Denver. She had to admit, Colorado was a beautiful place, or at least what she could see of it from the airport. It wouldn't be the worst place in the world to settle down, if that's where life sent them.

She was already exhausted by the time she got on the second flight. She could never sleep on planes, and she was afraid that her bags would get taken if she nodded off at the airport. By the time she made it to Helena, the sun was just coming up.

Paul borrowed Frank's new Ram for the drive up to meet her, with PJ packed-in tightly. He got there about twenty minutes later and was ready to meet her at the gate. When he first set eyes on her, two things came to his mind, and both of them were a little shameful. He noticed that she was probably about 25 pounds heavier than she was when they last saw each other, and she looked like she hadn't showered or slept in days.

As soon as she spotted them, she broke down in tears, dropped both bags, and came sprinting toward them. She wrapped her arms around Paul and kissed him as deeply as she could, almost lifting herself off the floor in his arms. Then, she turned her eyes down to the stroller.

"Oh my gawd!" she said, her twang stronger than ever without him around to temper it. He forgot how much he missed it.

"My little man! Yer getting' so big!" the tears were coming in full force as she bent down to pick him up.

As soon as she picked him up from the stroller, something unexpected happened. He started screaming. Not just a little bit either, like a little cry from being jostled. No, he was full-on screaming bloody murder. He'd never seen the baby do that before.

Ruby's heart sank in her chest. Nothing made sense. Her boy, her precious baby boy that she carried around inside her, didn't recognize her. As far as he was concerned, a stranger was picking him up. Her face contorted in anguish, and her happy tears went to sobbing, terrible tears in almost an instant. Paul took the baby, which calmed him down. This only made Ruby feel worse.

"What in the hell was that! It's like he doesn't even know me!."

He tried her best to console her as they walked out to the car.

When the luggage had been claimed and they got in the car, PJ had calmed down, and so had she. She just sniffling a bit and looked a little shocked.

"I can't believe that just happened. I just can't believe it. My own little boy doesn't even know who I am. This is exactly what I was afraid of. It makes my decision that much easier."

He frowned.

"What decision?" He asked as he pulled out of the airport and headed for the freeway.

"I've been thinking about it more and more over the last few weeks, and I was pretty sure that I wasn't gonna reenlist. I wanted to see how little PJ take it, but I never thought it would be this bad. I was wrong, Paul. I'm sorry, but there's no way I'm going back there.

"That's it?" he asked in disbelief. "Just one interaction, and you're not even going to consider reenlisting? I've been busting my ass here trying to find the right schools and the right places for us to go. You can't abandon the idea just like that. I'm trying to look out for our future. Don't be so selfish."

It took every ounce of Ruby's will not to reach across the car and slap Paul as hard as she could across the face. How dare he.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

Her tone was deadly serious and her accent was, strangely, all but gone.

"Did you just accuse me of being selfish? Are you fucking kidding me?"

If Paul could assign some kind of character flaw to himself, aside from maybe a small superiority complex, was that he had a big problem with speaking without thinking first, especially when he was angry. It was something he'd tried to work on throughout his life, but he never really got a grip on it. He knew the storm was coming.

"Look," He started, but he was cut off immediately.

"How fucking dare you accuse me of being selfish?" she almost screamed. "You busted your ass looking for schools? How about how I busted my fucking ass in the goddamn Army for nine months without seein' my family. And now, my own husband is trying to say that I'm the selfish one for not wanting to do it again immediately. You know that I haven't been out of the country on duty before, right?"

He was surprised that she actually stopped to let him answer.

"Yeah, and?"

"And, genius, if you reenlist and you haven't spent time abroad before, that's where they fucking ship you! Didn't find that out in your hours and hours of research? So it's either Korea or Germany for at least a year if I'm lucky, and that's never, ever going to happen."

She was fuming. Paul thought that if they lived in a cartoon, she'd have a beet-red face and smoke coming out of her ears. He had to make her see that this was the only way. She never gave him the chance.

"Here's how this is gonna work. I love ya, and I can't tell ya how much I've missed both of ya, but my mind is made up. So, we can either make this thing work here, and ya can figure it out like ya always told me ya could, or I can take PJ and do it myself, but I'm not spending another moment away from him. What's it going to be?"

He didn't know what to say. There was no way for him to win this. He would either have to suck it up, or lose his family, and there was no way he was going to lose his family. What would any of it be for if not for them?

This is what he had been doing everything for in the first place. He had to man up and take it and face his problems head on.

"Okay. Fair enough." he said with a blank expression on his face. "Obviously I don't want to lose either of you, and I know I can make it work. So if that's how it's gotta be...that's how it's gotta be. I'm sorry I called you selfish."

The words felt empty as they left his lips.

She nodded and didn't say anything else for the rest of the ride. He did the same, and not only because he was angry. He didn't want to set her off again. By the time they pulled into Mountain West, it was nearing midnight. They entered quietly, and PJ,, luckily stayed asleep the entire time.

Paul used some of their money to buy a larger bed, and was planning on looking at apartments with Ruby the next day. They put PJ in his crib and snuggled up together. She was still angry and disappointed, but was too tired to make a fuss. They were both out within a few seconds of their heads hitting the pillows.

Paul had a vivid dream that night. He was in his parent's house, but everything was slightly different. There were pictures of what looked like an older looking version of both him, Ruby and PJ on the wall. He was balding and overweight; a freakish facsimile of Frank and himself. He walked out into the living room and lit a cigarette. It seemed nonsensical for him to be smoking inside like that, but that's how dreams were.

He picked his wallet up off of the table and opened it. It was almost empty. There was a letter on the table with a large, imposing, "FINAL NOTICE" stamped on it in red ink. He picked it up and threw it in the trash, but when he turned his head around, another was waiting in its place. He threw that one away, only to have it replaced with another, and another, until the trashcan was finally full and he moved on.

He grumbled to himself, packed his lunch and walked out into another ruthless winter morning; another in a never-ending stream of bitter cold winter mornings. His car was old and, barely holding together. It was covered in at least a foot of snow on all sides, and he didn't have a shovel.

He lit another cigarette, and started pushing the car out of the deep rut it was stuck in. He slipped and busted his ass three times before finally pushing it out. He cursed to himself and slipped again while trying to unlock the door. Then, when he'd finally made his way in the little beater, the damned thing stalled half a dozen times before sputtering to life.

The heater was broken, so he tried to budle himself up in his clothes as much as he could. He looked over to the passenger seat, where he saw the familiar orange and yellow helmet with the light on top that Frank had worn to work for so many years. He put his cigarette out in the ashtray, checked the pitifully low gas gauge, and then the car in reverse.

He heard himself whisper to himself, almost from a million miles away, as he pulled out of the driveway.

"Another day, another dollar."

As the car rolled slowly down the street, Paul shot up in his bed. The morning sun was peering in through a crack in the window, and it stung his eyes. He moved his hand up to shield them as he rolled out of bed. He got up slowly, still a little groggy from the nightmare and the long drive the night before. As he'd finished getting dressed, his nostrils caught the smell of sizzling bacon coming from under the door.

When he opened the door he could hear Ruby chatting with his mom about something or another. The only thing he could make out was something about how cold Ruby thought it was for April, with his mom expressing the opposite opinion.

They stopped the conversation when they saw Paul enter the room.

"Look who's up," Lynn remarked with a legitimate smile on her face. "The family's finally all back together."

Frank had whipped up some of his huckleberry pancakes, no doubt trying to impress Ruby during her first breakfast in Montana, and by the look of her almost empty plate, it worked.

"Ya never told me how nice yer parent's house was. It's a pretty charming place," Ruby said as she took another bite.

He smiled.

"I suppose it does have some kind of rustic charm. I guess I never noticed it before."

He had to keep things pleasant, especially around his parents. If there was one thing he didn't need, it was a lecture from Lynn about how to be a better husband. So, he ate in relative silence. It was delicious, as it always was, and he ate it up quickly. They were both in for a long day, and they had to make a plan.

Apartment and job hunting were both things that he probably should have done a long time before, but at least it was better late than never, right? As for the job, he knew exactly where he'd be going. For the apartment, there weren't that many options, and most would probably not be great. It was one of the biggest reasons, aside from saving money, that he'd waited so long to look at them. If it was going to be a choice between a bunch of piles of garbage, it was one he didn't want to be responsible for on his own.

The apartment was temporary, though. The job too, he guessed, but they wouldn't be able to live on their own for long if he couldn't get something going soon. Everything had to be taken handled with care and discretion. He realized all of this as he was eating breakfast. He needed to rethink some things.

He swapped the polo and jeans for a casual suit he bought on a day trip to Missoula when he first arrived. It wasn't fancy, of course, but it was professional enough to get the job done. Lynn volunteered to take PJ grocery shopping with her as they did what they needed to do.

He wanted to get the apartment search over with first. There were only about five places in town that were in their budget. He hoped at least one of them would be okay. He guessed that his parents would probably let them stay for as long as they needed, but, for as nice as the time back had been, he was beyond ready to get into a place of his own.

He was going to take Frank's truck again, but Ruby insisted that they walk. She was ready to stretch her legs after the long flight and drive, and she wanted to get a good look at her new home up close.

"It sure is something," she marveled, after about fifteen minutes .

Monatan was odd. So strange, yet so similar. The willows and tall grass were replaced with pines and bushes. There were no snakes or cockroaches, or any big bugs for that matter. Although, that could have only been the weather.

"What is?" he asked, absentmindedly. All he'd been able to focus on was making sure he got an interview with the dealership. He knew that if he at least got his foot in the door, he could take it from there. There was too much riding on it to leave anything to chance.

"This whole town," Ruby answered. "I don't know. There's just something about this place. It's kinda charming, ya now? The mountains and rivers, the clean air. It's all so different, like I'm on another planet or something.

He smirked. "Not bad for one day. Try sticking around for twenty years though, see how you like it then."

"Hmm," she pondered. "Maybe I could see things getting old after a while. Doesn't seem like y'all have much in the way of diversity here, or culture at all for that matter."

He laughed.

"I didn't meet anyone who wasn't white or a native until I was in boot."

"Yeah, I figured. Nowhere's all positive, I guess. Still though, it's hard to deny the beauty of the place."

That was true. If it weren't for the people, Mountain West would be almost perfect. There wasn't any time to go over that whole thing again, as they'd finally come to their first apartment. They built the place when he was still in school, and they were actually pretty nice back then. Based on the outside alone, he figured that those days were long gone.

The complex was called Annie Lynn's Place. Paul didn't know who Annie Lynn was, but he thought someone should tell her that her place needed some work. The complex was a series of red brick buildings tucked against the side of the mountain. The grass in the yard was overgrown and brown, and some of the windows in the various apartments were broken or boarded over.

"Never judge a book by its cover, right?" Ruby asked, a little uneasily. "How bad could it be?"

The answer, of course, was that it was as bad on the inside as the outside. All three of the places they looked at were only a few notches above shanties. Ruby couldn't believe how far she'd come, just to be right back in the dirt. She guessed maybe things in Montana weren't as different as she thought.

They left disgusted, but still hopeful. The second place was only marginally better, but twice the price as the first. If they renovated it, it might actually be a nice place, but neither of them had the skill, time or money for that.

They left that place with their hopes all but dashed. Thankfully, the third time really was the charm, and they managed to find a nice two bedroom place above the town's movie theater. It wasn't the best, and it needed one hell of a deep cleaning, but it was their last, real option. They signed the paperwork that afternoon. The deposit, first and last month's rent ate up about all of the savings they had left. If Paul hadn't found something stable within a month or two, they'd be destitute. With their living situation finally decided, they moved on.

"What a day," Ruby remarked with a sigh, as they got back on Main Street.

"Yep, and it's still not over for me. You see that place over there?"

He pointed up the street to the dealership.

"What about it?" She asked.

"That," he started as the pulled a cigarette from his suit's coat pocket. "Is the best shot I have of making something for us in this town."

"A car dealership?" she asked, sounding almost confused.

"Yep," ge answered, wrapping one arm around her. "Selling cars is a good gig. Those guys can make a lot of money."

"Who buys cars around here?"

"I thought the same thing when I got here. Then, I went inside, and the place was popping! I guess they were a pretty big deal out in Missoula, at least that's what one of the owner's kids told me. He told me that they give the best deals in the country, and that's why people come from all over to buy from them.

She nodded. "It's good to see ya thinking about an actual future for us. Especially now that ya got that silly law school business out of head."

Silly? Really? Maybe it was a deferred dream, but it wasn't silly. It was their future. But Paul had no desire to bring up that mess. He had more important things on his mind as they approached the dealership. He turned to her.

"I'm going to go in and see what I can do. Do you want to come with?"

She shook her head.

"You've got this. I trust you. I'm gonna head back to your parents' and spend some time with PJ. I've been outta his life for long enough. Just put on that smile that you gave me back at the bar and lay on that famous Paul Schimon charm, and I'm sure you'll get the job."

He gave her a quick kiss as they went their separate ways. He opened the large double doors to the main showroom and found it much more active than he'd remembered, but no extra salesmen. It was a good sign. He looked around for Wes, but he was nowhere to be found.

Another man approached him. He looked a little like Wes, but he was maybe ten years older. Where Wes had a beer belly, this man was lithe and tall, about the same height as PaulHe had slick, combed-back blonde hair, and an almost orange complexion, probably from a spray tan. He had a smile on his face that Paul recognized.

Another man approached him. He looked like Wes but was a little less rotund and actually had a small bit of muscle on him. He was about the same height as Paul with slick, combed back light blonde hair. His skin was an odd tan color, almost orange. He was firmly wearing a salesman's smile

a smile on his face that Paul instantly recognized. It was the same kind of fake one that he had crafted over the years.

"Welcome to Daly Motors, friend," the man started, in an almost booming voice. "What can I do for you?"

He gave off an almost arrogant vibe, which led Paul to assume that he was the eldest Daly, the one who was the GM of the place. He wasn't exactly ready for that. He thought he'd be talking to Wes. This could throw a wrench in the entire thing. He had to think on the fly.

"Well," Paul started, composing himself. "My name is Paul. I was in here a few months ago, talking to a guy named Wes about your business."

The man frowned.

"I see. What exactly did he tell you?"

"Nothing negative. In fact, he told me what makes your business so great. You see, I'm fresh from the Army, and I think that I would be a wonderful addition to your sales team."

The man just nodded slowly, rubbing his chin with one hand.

"It's great to hear that you were in the Army. We've all got a lot of respect for our troops."

Paul offered a quick thanks, before the man started up again.

"With that being said, I don't think we have room for you here on our team right now."

The walls were starting to close in and he had to seal a deal quickly.

"When I was here last time, Wes told me that the place was always busy, and I can see it now. Wouldn't it be nice to have some more help? Especially from someone like me. I grew up here, and I know the people. They can connect with someone like me."

The man again slowly nodded.

"That may be, and you do make a good point, but things have changed here in the last few months. Sure, we're doing well, but, to be totally honest, it's starting to slow down a little bit. My team all came out with us from Missoula, and I've known them all for years. I can't take a risk on someone that I don't know. Do you even have any sales experience?"

Paul started to say something, but the man cut him off.

"Don't answer that, actually. Here, take this."

The man reached into his suit pocket and handed him a card that read: Kyle Daly, General Manager.

"Give it some time, maybe a year or so, and then give me a call. And, if you ever need a car, we've got the best deals in the whole Northwest."

He shook Paul's hand lightly, and walked away. Paul was in utter shock. He never even got a chance to start. Usually he could convince people to at least hear him out, but this man, Kyle, wasn't having any of it. He barely gave Paul the time of day. What the hell was that about?

Paul walked out of the dealership, his mind spiraling. He tore the card up and threw it to the ground, before lighting another cigarette and walking away. What was he going to tell Ruby? What was he going to do now? There was always one option, but that would be his last resort.

He didn't tell Ruby the full extent of what happened. How could he? He said he was told that they wouldn't be hiring for awhile, and he had to find something else in the meantime. Ruby was a little upset, especially because they signed a lease on an apartment before he actually got a job. She figured that because he said he could do it, he could do it. She didn't have any reason not to trust him before. But, when he told her that everything would still be fine, she believed him.

He spent the next two weeks going to every single business in the valley, currently hiring or not, to try and find something. Well, not every place, but it hadn't come to that yet. The only place that actually had work was the ski resort, and it was a seasonal job that was months away from even opening, and he'd have to stay in a cabin on the mountain five days a week.

As the days kept stacking, he was beginning to grow desperate. He thought about going to Missoula, but without a reliable car, the two hour drive each way would be impossible, especially in the winter, when the passes were nearly all closed for weeks at a time. Maybe it would be an option when their lease was up and they could just move there, but that was a problem for the future.

On the seventeenth day, he was over at his parents', smoking on the front porch with his father after a family dinner.

"No luck again today, then?" Frank asked, lighting a cigarette of his own.

"Nope," Paul answered, not looking at him. "This town is dead."

"It may seem like that, but it's because everyone's already got something. Like it or not, you're an outsider now. These people all have what they need, and they aren't trying to get rich and move on like you are."

His father took a long drag.

"There is still one option though. The offer I made when you got here still stands. I know it's the last thing that you want to do, but at this point, I think you're out of options. What do you say?"

Paul didn't want to admit it, but there wasn't much time left, if any, to dig himself out of the hole he'd been in. But, damn it all, there had to be another way. There had to be something else he could do. Daly Motors was his only play, but he couldn't go through Kyle. He had to go straight to the top. An idea started forming in his mind.

"Give me a couple of days to think about it, dad. I've got one last thing to try. If that doesn't work, I'll think about it."

Frank nodded.

"Whatever you say, Paulie, but make sure you make up your mind soon. We need people now for a new shaft, above and below, and if you want a spot on the team, it's gotta be soon. You got a few weeks at most before the higher-ups start bringing in contractors, and, to be totally honest, they probably deserve the spot a lot more than you do. There all trained and have experience. The only reason I'm giving this to you is because you need it. You should be grateful to get in here and not at the bottom. Not many people get that chance."

With that, Frank stamped out his cigarette, and headed back inside.

Paul hadn't considered before how far Frank had gone out of his way to try and help him. The mine was such a non-option that he had never even thought about the strings that Frank would have to pull to get him straight into management with no experience. It really was a good opportunity for him, and he could save up some money and maybe move to Missoula or something later. So why fight it?

He fought it so hard because even thinking about it would take him straight back to the nightmare he had when Ruby first came back. Maybe it was a good opportunity. It probably was, but he knew that as soon as he took the job, he'd be stuck. Maybe it was just a phobia, but that was the thing about phobias, wasn't it? They're irrational. His last idea would have to work.

If he couldn't get to Richard Daly in person, he'd have to do it another way. The phone could work, but there were issues with that. What if he wasn't available, or if Paul stumbled on his words or there was a bad signal? No, he couldn't let any of that happen. He had to go old school; almost as old school as it got. He was going to write Richard a letter.

That night, after Ruby and PJ had gone to sleep, he sat at the small kitchen table in his apartment and tried to put words to paper. He'd thrown out half a dozen drafts and smoked at least as many cigarettes in the twenty minutes that he'd been sitting there. This was his last chance, and every single word had to be perfect. He had to boast like he'd never boasted before. He had to be the absolute best version of himself that he could be.

He started again.

Dear Mr. Daly

My name is Paul Schimon, and, although we've never met, I think I have something to offer you. For as long as I could remember, I've always wanted to be the best. I grew up here in Mountain West, and was one of the top students in my class. I trained in debate, and even served as the Page to the Governor one summer. I used those debate skills in the military, where I served in Communications in multiple countries. I know how to talk to people, and I know how to get them to do what I want them to. If you give me an opportunity, I know that I will be the best salesman that you've ever seen.

In fact, I'm so certain of this, that if I don't make the top spot on the board within three months, I'll leave, and you can back bill me for every cent you gave to me. That's how positive that I am that I will take your dealership to the next level. I have other opportunities out in Missoula and Helena, but I think that my future is with Daly Motors. I'd love to discuss this with you in person as soon as possible.

Thank you for your time, and I look forward to making us both extremely wealthy.

Sincerely,

Paul Schimon

He added his phone number and signed beneath his name at the bottom. Then, he read it over. It wasn't the worst thing he'd ever written. He demonstrated his value, and tried to create urgency. It was what a good salesman did, and he knew that Richard would pick up on it. If this wouldn't work, he thought, nothing would.

He sealed it up in an envelope and put on a sweatshirt, taking it with him as he went outside and locked the door behind him. Who knew how long it would take through the post office, he didn't have the time to wait for that. He walked down to the dealership and spotted the little mail slot on the edge of the east side of the main showroom. He slipped the letter in the box, and said a small prayer.

Look, God, I know we haven't exactly seen eye to eye on this whole, 'your plan for my life' thing, but you gotta cut me a break here. If you do this for me, I promise that I'll give my family everything they deserve. Please.

He had trouble praying without it turning into a one-sided confrontation sometimes, but he figured that it was genuine enough. The Lord knew his heart, if nothing else. He walked home in the chilly night and tried, unsuccessfully, to sleep. He instantly started second guessing the letter. He asked for a job, was denied, then went above the GM's head to the big boss. What made him think that was a good idea? He fretted about it for hours, and when he finally slept, he didn't dream.

When he woke up, it was nearly noon. Ruby had taken PJ for a walk and decided not to wake him. He started getting dressed, when he heard a knock at the door. Did Ruby forget her keys? He walked over to the door and opened it. He was greeted on the other side by Wes, wearing a windbreaker and ball cap, with a big smile on his face.

"Hey Paul. How's tricks?" he asked.

Paul was a little bewildered. "Uh.." he started, not knowing what to say. "I've been okay. How about you?"

Wes kept his smile. "Not bad. Things have been better at the dealership but I was hoping that you might be able to help with that."

Before Paul could say anything, Wes reached into his jacket and pulled out the letter.

"I've gotta be honest, bud, this is a little weird. It's also pretty impressive. My brother might not have had a spot for you, but I talked to my dad, and he said that if you were motivated enough to write a letter, and put your salary on the line, you either really needed the job or you knew you could deliver the goods. Either way, you're in.

What? The letter actually worked, and inside a day? What were the odds of that? Maybe the big guy upstairs actually heard his prayer. What else made sense? He saw that he was sitting still, thinking, as Wes was staring and waiting for an answer. He really needed to work on that.

"Of course," he finally answered, "When can I start?"

"Do you have a suit?"

He nodded.

"How about now?"

Now? That seemed a bit more sudden than he would have liked but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. This was a test, and he was going to pass it.

"Sure, Let me get dressed. Give me five?"

Wes nodded and Paul went out and tried to grab his nicest clothes. The suit that he had was, admittedly, not the best, but it would be good enough. He spritzed himself with cologne, and tried to slick back his hair a bit. It had been awhile since he had a chance to get it cut, and he made a mental note to get it taken care of that evening.

When he was ready to go, he scribbled a quick note to Ruby and quickly went outside, locking the door behind him. As they walked out into the street, he turned to Wes.

"Thanks for giving me a chance, man. You have no idea how much I needed this. That note was pretty much my last hope."

Wes just smiled. "It's no problem. The letter was sincere, and you seemed like a nice guy when we first met. To be totally honest, with what you said in the letter, it's pretty much a win-win for us. Desperation makes you hungry, and nothing makes people work harder than a family at home to feed. Well, I guess deadbeats don't give a shit either way, but you get my point.

Paul nodded. "That's definitely true. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to stay on the ball. I meant what I said about that three months thing."

He definitely threw it in as a desperate resort, but he was a man of his word, and it wasn't like he could go back on it anyway.

Wes kept looking forward as they walked, the smile stapled to his face. "That's good to hear. Let's get you on the top of the board."

By the time they were at the dealership, Paul's nerves started to build, and the voice was coming back.

They'll see right through you. Want to bet you fuck it up before the end of the day?

He stuffed it down as deep as he could and tried to focus. This was one of those 'make or break' moments that he'd heard about. Whatever happened next, his life was going to change. If he failed now, he would fail forever, and if he could succeed now, he'd be okay.

Wes must have noticed the look on his face.

"Relax, let's take a look around a bit while I give you a quick rundown of how things work here. Maybe you should be taking notes."

Paul patted down his pockets, knowing he didn't have a pad or a pen.

"I'm fucking with you. Just follow me."

They walked through the main showroom. New cars were on display in the middle of the room, surrounded by a semicircle of nine desks, all filled with people trying to make money.

"This," Wes started,"Is the sales-floor, which you've seen before. This is the nerve center of the whole operation, and where all of the action goes down. For the most part, you'll be spending your time here, unless you're prepping a delivery or doing a test drive. I hope you're good on the phone, because almost ninety percent of our new business comes from out of town."

They went past the sales floor, and took a right down a long hallway, where there was a window on the left side that had someone standing behind it.

"This is Jeremy. He's our parts manager. If you need some work done, you talk to him. Also, if a customer comes to you with an issue that they have with, send them here."

Paul introduced himself and gave Jeremy a quick handshake before they moved on.

At the end of that hallway there was an intersection. To the left, he could see the bay where there were a few mechanics working on a pickup. To the right, were a set of small offices. Wes motioned towards them.

"These are our finance offices. When you get a customer ready to sign, you talk to one of these guys. They're always busy, so the receptionist will put you in a queue and get you when they're ready. This is pretty much the last step in the process. And, like I said back when we met, these guys are heavy hitters. Unless you're dealing with someone who has multiple bankruptcies, they'll get your guy into something."

He turned to Paul.

"You getting all of this?"

Paul was trying to keep everything together.

"I think so."

"Good."

They walked over to the front desk, and Wes pulled out three books from behind it, and handed them to Paul. They were product manuals for all of the new models they were selling, as well as a small printout of their pricing structure and discounts they could give customers.

"This is your homework for the rest of the month. Now, I'm not asking you to suddenly become a mechanic, but you need to know as much of the surface level info on all the cars as you can. If you get more specific questions, don't feel bad about using the book, but don't make a habit of it."

Paul started thumbing through the pages, when Wes tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to a desk in the corner.

"That's your new home. You know how to use a computer?"

"I haven't since the service, but I think I'll manage."

"Great. I've gotta check in on a few things over in PDI. Why don't you go get acquainted with the system and I'll find you when I get back. We're gonna scout out a customer and take you on your first rodeo.

Paul nodded. "Sounds good. I'll get started."

With that they parted ways and Paul quickly hustled to his new desk and started reading. For everything he thought he knew, he learned ten things more. He skipped the details and went straight to the pricing. Details were relative, money always talked.

He learned quickly that Wes wasn't kidding about the gap between the invoice and MSRP. There was so much money to be made if he didn't give any of it up, especially on trucks. He started doing some quick math in his head, but was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. He looked up to see Wes, ready to roll.

"Someone just walked in the door. Let's take this one together. I'm going let you do your thing a little bit and then step in if you need any help," Wes said, as he almost pulled Paul out of his chair.

The nerves started coming again; it was go time. They walked up to the customer. He was a younger man, maybe a little older than Paul, and he had been looking at a 1992 Dakota. The little pickups weren't worth as much, but it was better than a lot of the cars.

Wes nudged Paul forward, and he walked up to the man. It was time to put all of his years of training to work and see if he could make the cut.

"Checking out the Dakota, eh?" He asked.

The man turned to him.

"You work here?" he asked, with a slight country-boy drawl.

"Yes, sir," Paul responded. "The name's Paul. What's yours?"

The man reached out his hand toward Paul.

"I'm Tom. Nice to meet you."

They shook hands and Paul looked at the truck.

"Ever driven one of these before?"

The man looked the little truck up and down.

"My pop got one a few years back, and I've driven it a few times. I thought this might make a good replacement for the bucket of bolts I'm drivin' now. I'm not sure that I can afford it, is all. I mean, look at this price."

He pointed toward the window sticker, which showed a $17,500 MSRP. He looked to the corner of the sticker and noticed that it was a '93. Paul had an idea.

"That's one hell of a deal, if you ask me," he said, "of course it's my job to say that, but let me tell you what makes this particular truck worth seventeen grand."

He pointed to the year on the sticker.

"You see, this is a '93. We've had the '94s for about three months now, and I've gotta tell you, I've been getting a lot of complaints about the new models, and I've heard they aren't selling well. Dodge must have taken notice, because they bumped the prices on last year's model to make up for lost revenue. If you think our prices are high, you should see what the bigger dealers are charging. It's insane."

He could feel Wes staring at him from behind him. He couldn't help it; it came to him in the moment. He just hoped the guy wouldn't know any better.

"Is that so?"

Paul put an arm over his shoulder. "It certainly is. To be honest, we need to get rid of as many of these things as we can to make room for new inventory, and if I'm not mistaken, we have only a few of these left. How about this? Let's take a look at the ones we have in the lot. We can take them for a test drive, and if you like it, I'll see what I can take off the price. I'll get you a better deal than you can find from here to Seattle. What do you think?

Tom nodded, looking closer at the interior of the truck.

"What if I can't get a loan? I don't exactly have that much money lying around."

Paul came in quickly.

"I wouldn't worry about that. We have one of the best finance teams in the country, and I've yet to have a customer who I couldn't get into something, even if it takes a little finagling. I know we can make it work."

Tom nodded and turned his full attention to Paul.

"I gotta say, my old man warned me about sleazy salesmen that would do anything to make a buck, but you seem like you're on the level. Honestly, I mostly came to look, but if you think I can actually get approved for a rig like this, I think we should take one for a spin."

Paul smiled, and turned to Wes. He looked almost stunned.

Wes laughed.

"I'll get the keys. You two head out to the lot and we'll meet in a few."

It only took Wes about thirty seconds to get the keys, and then they were off on the drive. Paul wanted to make small talk with Tom while he figured out the car for himself. Tom said he'd driven an older model, so Paul didn't want to lecture him. He would sit back and be friendly while Tom experimented with everything.

By the end of the drive he had learned that Tom had also been a soldier, and had recently come home. They swapped stories as they drove, and by the time they made it back to the showroom, Tom was ready to sign. Paul took a grand off the price, and even offered him a $500 dollar military discount to show how much Daly Motors cared about the troops.

Wes was waiting for them at the front door with a packet of papers in hand.

"How was the drive?"

Richard had a smile on his face. "Pretty great. Paul told me you can give me a special offer because I'm a vet. I'm glad to see you guys supporting us. Where do I sign?"

Wes perked up "If you will follow me this way, I have a finance officer ready to talk with you about where things go from here."

They all walked back to the small offices, and a short man with thinning hair stepped out to greet them.

"I'm Drake Evens, and I'll be taking care of you today. Why don't you step into my office here and we'll go over the details."

They left Wes and Paul alone, and Wes turned to him.

"That was fucking great, man! I couldn't have possibly hoped for better. Now, I want you to pull the truck around back and they'll get it cleaned and detailed for the customer, so when he's done we've got everything ready for him. When you get back, I'll show you what to do with the rest of the paperwork."

Paul nodded, and they went to work. After about an hour, Tom came out of the office with paperwork in hand, and got into his new truck. They had one final farewell, where Tom told Paul he'd send all of his Army buddies to Paul when they wanted to buy. Paul said goodbye, and watched Tom drive away. He felt something that he hadn't felt in a very long time. Pride? Accomplishment? He wasn't sure, but it was nice to feel it again.

"Is it always that easy?" he asked.

"Not even a little. In fact, sometimes, it can be damn near impossible, but you handled yourself better than any first-timer I've ever seen. I loved the bit about Dodge bumping the price up on the old models. You gotta watch stuff like that, though. A lot of these guys, especially with trucks or the higher end cars, know more about these things than we do, and we don't want to get caught up in a lie. That whole 'military discount' thing was great, too."

Paul's smile grew.

"How much did I make?"

"Well, I can't say for sure, based on what I was looking at when you were on the test drive, it'll probably be around fifteen hundred."

Paul's jaw dropped open.

"Fifteen hundred for one car?"

"Yep," Wes answered. "Don't expect them all to be that much, but it's a hell of a good place to start."

Paul started to feel something deep down inside him. It was like a light turned on in a dark room or a revelation from above. He had made almost as much in a single sale as he would in the mines in a month. This was it. As long as he could keep this up, there was no limit to how much he could make.

Just then, he saw a couple walking onto the lot.

"Go for it," Wes said with a smirk. "If it wall works out, meet back up with me and I'll show you how to prepare the paperwork I got for the first guy. It's a little tedious, but nothing too difficult. Then, later today I want to introduce you to my dad. I think he'll get a kick out of all this."

They shook hands and Paul went walking towards the couple. That feeling he'd had before was growing; spreading roots throughout his body. It kicked that little voice out of his head as it spread. This was what he'd always been looking for, ever since he was a kid. He didn't find it with the Governor, the Army or even Ruby and PJ, not that he'd ever tell anyone that.

He finally put his finger on it.

It was hope that he was feeling. Now that he could identify it and how to get it, he would never let it go for the rest of his life.

*****

It was November 10th, 2004

Paul stepped into the massive showroom that was outside of his office and took a long, slow gaze from one side to the other. He used to think it was fitting that the place was painted up like a forest; with bears, elk, deer and all kinds of other animals that they'd hunted over the years, mounted on the walls. It was his kingdom. Kyle may have been the actual king, but he was the one who people followed. They'd never be able to take that away from him.

He took his time making his way toward the front door, taking it all in. Everyone who saw him smiled and waved; many would do anything for a few minutes of his time, but he didn't have any to spare; not anymore.

He turned to the receptionist desk; a large marble slab which sat atop a glass case of even more trophies and achievements.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Schimon?"

He gave her a smile. It was getting harder to fake them every day. He'd forgotten her name, but it didn't matter.

"If anyone calls, tell them I'm out for the day. I'll get back with them in the morning."

He didn't wait for questions and made a straight line for the door. He took one more good look around the place, trying to capture in his mind like a polaroid. He didn't know it for certain yet, but he was pretty sure it was the last time he'd ever see this place. They had a good thing going for a while, and he'd like to remember it like this. He could almost see himself back at his old desk.

With a sigh, he pushed open the doors and went out into the streets. His determination came back with every step he took. The clock was ticking now, and every moment was precious. The hour was getting late, and there was still so much work to be done. The time for nostalgia was over.