Jared was drinking Captain and Coke, complaining about his city, and poking his straw with a toothpick. If one were to guess�and if they saw him, they wouldn�t be able to help themselves�they would say he was depressed over a breakup. Everyone was always depressed over a breakup. Especially around here. It was all people could do. No one really loved each other in this town anymore. It was just heartbreak, alcohol, hunting, and that Edward G. Robinson memorial. No one could explain why the memorial was there. Robinson didn�t grow up in this town and, to most people�s knowledge, he never even visited. Most people just assumed he was popular among the townsfolk, so they built him a memorial. He had the characteristic rough and ready attitude the town had strived to embody. Maybe, they thought, the town�s reputation would take on Robinson�s reputation with time. But instead, the town became as phony as the memorial. Thing was, Jared wasn�t depressed over a break-up. In fact, he hadn�t even held anyone in years. The last girl left him just so she could be alone. That�s what she told him, anyway. �I just want to be alone. There isn�t anyone else in my life right now. Except maybe God. And maybe Eddie G.� That was the joke around town. Edward G. Robinson was always being equated with God. Sometimes, to stop themselves from swearing, people would say, �Holy Ed!� Or they�d punctuate their more boisterous sentences with, �For Ed�s Sakes!� People around these parts generally weren�t very witty. Jared didn�t really even have much of a reason to be depressed. But there he was, drinking and staring at the posters on the wall. Finally, the bartender took notice. �What�s a matter, Jared?� All the bartenders knew everyone by name. Especially guys like Jared who drank a little too much. �I don�t know, man,� responded Jared accusingly. He was just frustrated, lonely, perhaps a little envious of the people around him. �Well cheer up, son!� The bartender called everyone �son.� It was his way of dealing with not having any children of his own. He had a wife, but according to him, she was barren as a wasteland. The truth, though, was that she was taking birth control pills without telling him. She just didn�t want to deal with kids. Lying, in this town, was almost as popular as Edward G. Robinson. �What�ve I got to be cheery about?� Asked Jared. Then, sarcastically he added, �Dad?� �You�re in a great town, for Ed�s sake! You got people who know and love you. Got the finest liquor this side of the Mississip!� That, of course, was another of the town�s lies. Captain Morgan, Bacardi, and Cuervo Gold were distinctly not the finest liquor anywhere near that side of the �Mississip.� �Whatever, dude. Just leave me alone. No one asked for your opinions.� So the bartender left him alone. And he just sat there drinking and not changing anything. And the country music swelled around in his mind, until he could no longer bear it. His depression just festered and boiled until he began to hate everything and everyone, even the people he had no reason to hate. He began to hate the whole town, even Edward G. Robinson, which was one of the highest of sins in a town like this. But he kept quiet and never told anyone. He even resolved to be friendly around some people. And he quickly became just another scar underneath the surface of this strange, dishonest town that loved Edward G. Robinson, perhaps, more than any of its citizens. |