FIC: Stranded in Blue
Tyrus rolled the weekly 200 pounds away. Jesse watched it go solemnly, already thinking about the next batch, and the one after that. An endless waterfall of sky blue meth stretched before him, all his life, forever toppling off the edge. The only reward for reaching the bottom was death.
A hand touched his shoulder.
“You alright, Kid?”
“Yeah, fine,” Jesse sighed rubbing his hand over his face.
“You have anywhere to be?”
Jesse was confused. If anyone should know, it should be Mike. He shook his head slowly.
“Come on, let me buy you a beer.”
“It’s two in the afternoon,” Jesse muttered.
Mike squeezed his shoulder.
“Let’s go.”
***
Sitting in the cushioned booth, it occurred to Jesse that he had been here before, He had been here with Mr. White, talking to him about Tomas. His stomach churned. Did Mike know?
“What do you want?” Mike asked.
“Huh?”
“To drink, Jesse. What do you want?” Mike asked calmly.
“Coke.”
“With alcohol.”
“Miller Lite.”
He looked down at the table. This wasn’t the one. This wasn’t the table that he slid their product across to Mr. White on. Wasn’t the table he had asked for ricin over. Wasn’t the table where Mr. White had dismissed him, his feelings, the justice Jesse had so believed in. This wasn’t where the beginning of their end had started…
“Jesse.”
Jesse looked up, Mike was sitting across from him, calm and wearing glasses that Jesse was pretty sure he wasn’t wearing before.
“Talk to me.”
Jesse sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.
“So there was this…really cool episode of Meerkat Manor on last night. The little cubs, kittens, whatever you call them, went out exploring and they came across this hyena, so Lion King, you know? And it looked like they were going to get eaten but then some other meerkats showed up and distracted the hyena. So the little ones got away, but one of the bigger ones got eaten.”
Mike waited patiently for more, then he gave a small smile. Their drinks were set on the table. Mike raised his glass.
“To meerkats?”
“To meerkats.”
They clinked their glasses and Jesse took a large gulp.
“You’re not a big meerkat, Jesse,” Mike told him soothingly. “You’re one of the little ones that got away.”
“But I didn’t…I don’t even know if the little ones really lived. I missed the end of the episode. Maybe they all got eaten.”
“Walter is fine,” Mike said flatly, dropping all pretense. “You think I’d kill Walter and his family when you’re doing everything you can to keep them safe?”
Jesse took a deep breath looked at the floor, then back to Mike.
“I think…you care enough about me to not tell me the truth if they were already dead and everything I’m doing is for nothing.”
Mike looked thoughtful for a moment.
“You’ve got a point there.”
Jesse looked down again. And there it was, Mr. White and his family could have been murdered the night after they left and Jesse could be here, upholding his promise to be Gus’s loyal meth cook when Gus’s end of the deal had already been broken.
“Well, there’s only one thing to do. Finish your beer.”
***
They went to Mike’s house. Jesse sat on the couch, hunched over. He didn’t know why Mike had brought him here, but he wasn’t frightened or excited. There was nothing for him to be afraid of or look forward to anymore.
Mike returned with a metal safe. He used a key and a safe number to unlock it. Jesse didn’t bother leaning over to see what was in it. Mike put some papers to see what was in it. Mike took some papers out and laid them on the table. Jesse caught a glimpse of a hairy faced man wearing glasses. He glanced from picture to picture of the same man, squinting at close ups.”
“Walter Lambert, Living in New Hampshire. He’s 52 years old, has advanced stage lung cancer, two children and is divorced from his wife. I have copies of his drivers license and medical records and you can compare them if you want.”
Mike laid down a second stack of papers.
“Catherine Lambert, age 42, two kids, divorced, currently works as an accountant for Kent Enterprises and writes novels under the pen name Dawn Jamison.”
Jesse glanced over the pictures of a tall thin woman with long brown hair. He had only seen Mrs. White once but the face was similar enough.
“Flynn Lambert, age 18, freshman at Duke University in North Carolina and majoring in computer science. And Hope Lambert, age 2.”
Jesse looked at all the pictures and flipped through some of the records beneath them. Then he looked up at Mike.
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“They’re alive.”
“That’s right. And they’re alive because of you. And it’s unlikely they’ll die of anything other than natural causes.”
“Mr. White?” Jesse asked, face contorting in sadness.
“He’s got a few months left.”
Jesse bowed his head. Mike ran a hand along the back of it.
“It’s okay, Jesse. Everything is okay.”
A hand touched his shoulder.
“You alright, Kid?”
“Yeah, fine,” Jesse sighed rubbing his hand over his face.
“You have anywhere to be?”
Jesse was confused. If anyone should know, it should be Mike. He shook his head slowly.
“Come on, let me buy you a beer.”
“It’s two in the afternoon,” Jesse muttered.
Mike squeezed his shoulder.
“Let’s go.”
***
Sitting in the cushioned booth, it occurred to Jesse that he had been here before, He had been here with Mr. White, talking to him about Tomas. His stomach churned. Did Mike know?
“What do you want?” Mike asked.
“Huh?”
“To drink, Jesse. What do you want?” Mike asked calmly.
“Coke.”
“With alcohol.”
“Miller Lite.”
He looked down at the table. This wasn’t the one. This wasn’t the table that he slid their product across to Mr. White on. Wasn’t the table he had asked for ricin over. Wasn’t the table where Mr. White had dismissed him, his feelings, the justice Jesse had so believed in. This wasn’t where the beginning of their end had started…
“Jesse.”
Jesse looked up, Mike was sitting across from him, calm and wearing glasses that Jesse was pretty sure he wasn’t wearing before.
“Talk to me.”
Jesse sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.
“So there was this…really cool episode of Meerkat Manor on last night. The little cubs, kittens, whatever you call them, went out exploring and they came across this hyena, so Lion King, you know? And it looked like they were going to get eaten but then some other meerkats showed up and distracted the hyena. So the little ones got away, but one of the bigger ones got eaten.”
Mike waited patiently for more, then he gave a small smile. Their drinks were set on the table. Mike raised his glass.
“To meerkats?”
“To meerkats.”
They clinked their glasses and Jesse took a large gulp.
“You’re not a big meerkat, Jesse,” Mike told him soothingly. “You’re one of the little ones that got away.”
“But I didn’t…I don’t even know if the little ones really lived. I missed the end of the episode. Maybe they all got eaten.”
“Walter is fine,” Mike said flatly, dropping all pretense. “You think I’d kill Walter and his family when you’re doing everything you can to keep them safe?”
Jesse took a deep breath looked at the floor, then back to Mike.
“I think…you care enough about me to not tell me the truth if they were already dead and everything I’m doing is for nothing.”
Mike looked thoughtful for a moment.
“You’ve got a point there.”
Jesse looked down again. And there it was, Mr. White and his family could have been murdered the night after they left and Jesse could be here, upholding his promise to be Gus’s loyal meth cook when Gus’s end of the deal had already been broken.
“Well, there’s only one thing to do. Finish your beer.”
***
They went to Mike’s house. Jesse sat on the couch, hunched over. He didn’t know why Mike had brought him here, but he wasn’t frightened or excited. There was nothing for him to be afraid of or look forward to anymore.
Mike returned with a metal safe. He used a key and a safe number to unlock it. Jesse didn’t bother leaning over to see what was in it. Mike put some papers to see what was in it. Mike took some papers out and laid them on the table. Jesse caught a glimpse of a hairy faced man wearing glasses. He glanced from picture to picture of the same man, squinting at close ups.”
“Walter Lambert, Living in New Hampshire. He’s 52 years old, has advanced stage lung cancer, two children and is divorced from his wife. I have copies of his drivers license and medical records and you can compare them if you want.”
Mike laid down a second stack of papers.
“Catherine Lambert, age 42, two kids, divorced, currently works as an accountant for Kent Enterprises and writes novels under the pen name Dawn Jamison.”
Jesse glanced over the pictures of a tall thin woman with long brown hair. He had only seen Mrs. White once but the face was similar enough.
“Flynn Lambert, age 18, freshman at Duke University in North Carolina and majoring in computer science. And Hope Lambert, age 2.”
Jesse looked at all the pictures and flipped through some of the records beneath them. Then he looked up at Mike.
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“They’re alive.”
“That’s right. And they’re alive because of you. And it’s unlikely they’ll die of anything other than natural causes.”
“Mr. White?” Jesse asked, face contorting in sadness.
“He’s got a few months left.”
Jesse bowed his head. Mike ran a hand along the back of it.
“It’s okay, Jesse. Everything is okay.”