When Cap'n Jay requests
A piece of flash fiction from someone who doesn't do flash fiction
The Blue Hat
“Over here!” Ranger called.
Oakley came sliding down the stream bank towards the sound of his voice, having to catch hold of his arm to keep from pitching head first into the shallow water. “No, no,” he began to mutter after a while. “No, no.”
“It’s just a hat!” Ranger huffed, uncomfortable at such a display of emotion. “A blue hat, that’s all it is.”
Sinking to his knees, Oakley reached out towards the hat, but was unable to touch it. “It’s Charley’s hat,” he whispered. “He’s gone, he must be. He’d never leave his hat, not voluntarily. When did you ever see Charley without his hat?”
Ranger was about to swear in disgust, only to remember he never had seen Charley without his soft, pale blue hat. How long had they gone hunting together? Every weekend in season for more than ten years and he had never, ever seen Charley Reigert without that hat. He squatted down beside Oakley and gazed at the hat. Was that blood on the brim? Blood meant nothing to him, but he couldn’t make himself touch the hat in case it was Charley’s blood.
“D’you think a bear got him?” Oakley whispered.
“How should . . .” Ranger began, only to find his voice fading. Were there bears in these parts? The thought hauled him back to his feet and scrambling up the bank, where he stood looking all around, rifle held purposefully in his hands. “I think we should get out of here,” he said in a cracked, hoarse voice sounding not at all like him.
“We’ve got to look for Charley!” Oakley wailed. “What’ll Lily say if we go back without him?”
‘Well hello, lover boy,’ was what Ranger expected Lily to say, but he said nothing, scuffling backwards from the bank. “There’s nothing we can do for him, not now,” he said, “not if a bear got him.”
Oakley stared at the hat a little longer, then scuttled after Ranger, rifle at the ready, eyes scanning the woods for bear, even though a still, small voice way back in his head told him there were no bear hereabouts, and even if there were they were still asleep this early in the spring.
When they were out of sight and he couldn’t hear them crashing through the undergrowth any longer Charley Reigert slid down the tree from where he had watched them behave exactly as he’d planned on them doing. He smiled at the thought of their reaction when they got back to the Jeep and remembered he had the keys, and there was still no mobile connection out there. By the time they got off the mountain he would have a two day start on anyone wanting to know why Charley Reigert had a packful of money on his back, money that rightfully belonged in his Clients Account.
He bent down to pick up the hat, then straightened and walked away. It was Charley’s hat. He wasn’t Charley anymore.
The Blue Hat
“Over here!” Ranger called.
Oakley came sliding down the stream bank towards the sound of his voice, having to catch hold of his arm to keep from pitching head first into the shallow water. “No, no,” he began to mutter after a while. “No, no.”
“It’s just a hat!” Ranger huffed, uncomfortable at such a display of emotion. “A blue hat, that’s all it is.”
Sinking to his knees, Oakley reached out towards the hat, but was unable to touch it. “It’s Charley’s hat,” he whispered. “He’s gone, he must be. He’d never leave his hat, not voluntarily. When did you ever see Charley without his hat?”
Ranger was about to swear in disgust, only to remember he never had seen Charley without his soft, pale blue hat. How long had they gone hunting together? Every weekend in season for more than ten years and he had never, ever seen Charley Reigert without that hat. He squatted down beside Oakley and gazed at the hat. Was that blood on the brim? Blood meant nothing to him, but he couldn’t make himself touch the hat in case it was Charley’s blood.
“D’you think a bear got him?” Oakley whispered.
“How should . . .” Ranger began, only to find his voice fading. Were there bears in these parts? The thought hauled him back to his feet and scrambling up the bank, where he stood looking all around, rifle held purposefully in his hands. “I think we should get out of here,” he said in a cracked, hoarse voice sounding not at all like him.
“We’ve got to look for Charley!” Oakley wailed. “What’ll Lily say if we go back without him?”
‘Well hello, lover boy,’ was what Ranger expected Lily to say, but he said nothing, scuffling backwards from the bank. “There’s nothing we can do for him, not now,” he said, “not if a bear got him.”
Oakley stared at the hat a little longer, then scuttled after Ranger, rifle at the ready, eyes scanning the woods for bear, even though a still, small voice way back in his head told him there were no bear hereabouts, and even if there were they were still asleep this early in the spring.
When they were out of sight and he couldn’t hear them crashing through the undergrowth any longer Charley Reigert slid down the tree from where he had watched them behave exactly as he’d planned on them doing. He smiled at the thought of their reaction when they got back to the Jeep and remembered he had the keys, and there was still no mobile connection out there. By the time they got off the mountain he would have a two day start on anyone wanting to know why Charley Reigert had a packful of money on his back, money that rightfully belonged in his Clients Account.
He bent down to pick up the hat, then straightened and walked away. It was Charley’s hat. He wasn’t Charley anymore.