Episode Twelve: Quin and Brownfield Share a Moment

Hello, Friends!

It’s been a bit hectic to get this installment of the story to you on time, but I hope that you think it’s worth it.

I received some feedback the other day from one of my readers. She said that it would be much easier to navigate around my blog and catch up with some of the old episode installments if I had a sort of table of contents on the home page.

What a great idea!

I’ll spend some time working on the different formats that WordPress has, and see if I can work something out that will make it easier for you good people to find your way around my little stories.

Thanks to Deb. B for her great help this week!

Thanks again, folks. As always, shoot me a line at alsothemadhairman@gmail.com.

B. W.


What kind of nut is that Quin guy?” Mr. Brownfield asked to no one in particular.

Mrs. Eunice Brownfield, thinking he was talking to her, answered,

Oh, I don’t know, he seems like a normal sort of drifter. I’d say he’s mostly harmless. I’m glad we’re rid of him though.”

Yeah, he’d be no fun at Gettysburg.” Curtis said, finally raising his head from his smartphone game.

Nothing would be any fun at Gettysburg.” Sandy scoffed.

Mr. Brownfield decided to find sanctuary in the service station. Maybe there would be someone there who could fix his car.

Luckily, there was. It was the kind of gas station that had a mechanic’s repair stall attached to it. Unluckily, the mechanic attached to the repair stall wasn’t in a terribly cooperative mood.

Why don’t you just call someone on your super fancy ‘I can do everything smart phone’?” The mechanic asked.

Mr. Brownfield gritted his teeth. Because I want it done quickly. Like, now. I’d be willing to pay extra for your services.”

The mechanic smirked.

Of course you would.”

Right about now Mr. Brownfield could have used a drink. There’s nothing like a mind muddling beverage to make the present situation bright in comparison. He would have settled for anything, from alcohol to muddy ditch water.

Excusing himself to use the bathroom, Mr. Brownfield ducked behind the gas station to the backside of the building where the bathrooms were. Instead of going inside, he sat on the curb.

He snarled at anger at the world and mustered a few adult curse words. It didn’t work.

Then he flippantly shrugged his shoulders to show it didn’t bother him. That didn’t work either.

So he sat still on the curb, staring at the dust between his feet, broken by circumstance. The world had forced the fight out of him like air from a tire. He was broken.

Something cold nudged his shoulder. When he turned to look, he saw Quin standing beside him holding out a glass bottle.

You look like a cream soda man to me.” Quin said. He handed Mr. Brown the bottle and sat down beside him.

Erm, thanks.” Mr. Brownfield said.

Quin shrugged it off and drank from his own soda bottle. The liquid inside was dyed blue.

Mr. Brownfield eased off the metal cap of the bottle and let the cold amber fluid cool his throat.

Nice place to sit down and enjoy the scenery, isn’t it, Brownfield?” Quin asked.

Yeah, I suppose so.”

That was sarcasm. We’re sitting with our backs to a smelly bathroom, and staring at a dumpster behind a gas station. Pay closer attention.”

Mr. Brownfield laughed, a short bark like a dog.

It’s so hard to raise a family.” Brownfield’s eyes connected with Quin’s. “Isn’t it?”

Quin shook his head.

Not from what I’ve seen. All you have to do is feed it regularly, and it will raise itself.

Or, did you maybe mean it’s hard to raise a family well?” he said.

Mr. Brownfield drank from his bottle a second time.

The second one.” he said.

Yeah, I suppose that might be hard.” Quin said. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never tried.”

Curtis suddenly appeared from around the corner.

Never tried what?” he asked.

What are you doing? Didn’t I tell you to stay in the van?” Mr. Brownfield asked.

No. I had to use the bathroom. Here it is.” Curtis said, and disappeared inside.

Mr. Brownfield smiled a little.

That’s my son, alright. He’s got it going on. I’d have to say, as far as raising a family is concerned, I’m doing pretty darn well.”

Says who?” spoke a harsh voice behind him.

Mr. Brownfield whirled in a circle.

Mom?” he said.

Thanks for reading! Be sure to check back every Tuesday and Saturday for another installment of Quin’s adventures.

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