Part 172: Sawyer Versus Sawyer

Cecil slowly got on his knees, holding the envelope. He looked up at the southern man who held the gun three feet from his face. He demanded he read the letter. The old man wasn’t sure what to make of it but at the moment, he didn’t have a choice. He opened it and began to read. “Dear Mr. Sawyer, you don't know who I am but I know who you are and I know what you done. You had sex with . . . . my mother and then you stole my dad's money all away. So he got angry and he killed my . . . . mother and then he killed . . . . . . himself, too.”

“Don’t stop!” Sawyer demanded.

Cecil had wild eyes. This situation he was reading in this paper reminded him of so many situations he had done before. Except the part where the couple killed themselves. He looked back to the letter and read the last part. “All I know is your name. But one of these days I'm going to find you and I'm going to give you this letter so you'll remember what you done . . . to me. You . . . . killed my parents, Mr. Sawyer.”

Cecil slowly looked up at Sawyer. The rain dripped from the gun in a steady stream. The face of the young man was contorted in so much violent rage, that he could pull the trigger within a second. The old man at that moment knew why he was talking with him. It all made sense then. Cecil let the letter drop and slumped down. “Lily . . .was your mama?” he asked.

“I remember her screams,” Sawyer hissed, with teary eyes, “I remember my daddy pulling the trigger over my bed while I stayed under it.”

“Under it?” Cecil looked at him.

“My aunt found me two days later. I couldn’t move cause the blood kept dripping from the body above me. A Red Rain, you get what I am saying, Old man?”

“Sawyer . . you . .”

“In case you didn’t get, my name ain’t Sawyer. I used it to remind me of what you’ve done. What you did to my parents and what you made me become!”

Cecil then slowly brought down his eyebrows. He stared up at Sawyer with a mixture of pity and hate in his own eyes. “What I made you become, boy?” he scoffed, “Maybe you chose my name cause I was really your hero?”

Sawyer blinked, “What did you say?”

“You chose my name . . ..where you having problems with your parents at the time? Did you like what your father did?”

“I’m glad you are eager to die, old man and I am willing to pull this trigger.”

“Then why don’t you?” Cecil grinned,” Maybe it’s because your daddy’s cowardly blood pumps through your veins as well?”

“Shut up,” the redneck spit.

“I must admit, now that my memory is coming back, I can remember how sweet your mother tasted. Kinda like . . .strawberries.”

Sawyer then grabbed Cecil by the collar and then hit him with the gun repeatedly. He screamed like a wild animal as he pounded the old man’s head in. Cecil grunted with each blow but he took it. Sawyer then stopped and pointed the barrel into Cecil’s cheek. The old man wheezed a bit but did nothing. The redneck felt like his head was going to explode with hatred toward the old man. “YOU MADE ME, OLD MAN!!!” Sawyer screamed, “And I am about to take it outta your ass!”

“Made you?” he coughed, “I didn’t ask you to choose my name boy. Naw . .I didn’t make . . .Maybe I just woke up something deep inside that pitch back soul’a yours.”

“You . .you . . “

Sawyer was so filled with rage he didn’t notice Cecil grabbed a rock in his hand. The old man then slammed the stone Sawyer’s head, knocking him off of him. The redneck stumbled as Cecil attacked him. The old man then pinned him down and proceeded to punch him repeatedly. Blow after blow Cecil landed, Sawyer grunted, spitting out blood. The redneck then picked up a rock of his own and slammed it into the old man’s chest. Cecil gagged and coughed, then felt back. Sawyer quickly turned off, coughing up the blood from his mouth. Then he realized the horror.

He had dropped the gun.

He quickly turned around to then find himself staring down the barrel of the gun. Cecil started at him with gritted blood-stained teeth. “You arrogant little turd,” he hissed, “There is one thing I hate, Sawyer, it’s a holier-than-thou attitude.”

“Go to hell . .” he muttered.

“SHUT UP!! NOW YOU ARE GONNA LISTEN TO ME!!!” Cecil screamed then coughed.

Cecil wiped his mouth, keeping the gun on his younger companion. He slowly calmed down, trying to cool the fire in his lungs. “You are young, Sawyer,” the old man hissed, “You got a chance to get redeemed. Me? I am too far gone.”

“Redemption?” he laughed, “What kinda crap you selling, old man?”

“There is no way I can make up for what I have done. No way! But you, you stand a chance. You need to do the right thing and whatever it is you have done, you stop doing it!”

“Ain’t this like calling the kettle black,” Sawyer smirked through his busted lips, “I ain’t no where near your level . . . Sawyer.”

Cecil paused, and then leaned down, shoving the gun in Sawyer’s face. The redneck didn’t move. “You expect me to beg?” he asked.

“Not in the least,” he grinned, “You too bad to beg, ain’t ya?”

Sawyer stared up at him with pure hatred.

“I can already tell you ain’t gonna move on unless you get satisfication. So I’m gonna help you, hillbilly.”

Sawyer steadied himself. Cecil cocked by the breach. “Any last words?”

“I’ll see you in Hell.” The redneck croaked.

“Actually, I hope you don’t.” Cecil said in all seriousness, “Do me a favor, Sawyer . . Tell Mia I am happy . ..she tried.”

“Tell Mia?” he said, confused.

Cecil then stood up, put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger.

Sawyer covered his head as the gun went off. He paused until he heard Cecil’s body thump toward the ground. He slowly turned and looked at him. The old man laid motionless with a gapping hole in the side of his head, slowly leaking bits of brain and blood. The redneck slowly stood up and looked at him.

Sawyer didn’t think much; but the moment Cecil took his own life, it made sense what he was trying to tell him. He said he knew Sawyer wouldn’t go through life looking for a second chance and he said he would help him. The old man knew he wouldn’t go on with his life until he was dead; so he killed himself. In that last moment, was that a sign of regret? He saved Sawyer the effort of killing him because he killed himself. The redneck had already killed one man by mistake; he wanted to kill Cecil. He regretted not having the chance to kill him but he was satisfied at the thought of the man was dead. Then someone burst from the bushes.

Mia paused, seeing the dead form of Cecil. She gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. She looked at Sawyer who’s face was blank and expressionless. It was as if all the emotion he had at one time, then was used up at that moment. Sawyer lowered his head and walked over to Cecil’s hand, stepping on it and retrieving the gun. He then reached over and picked up the letter. “He killed himself,” he whispered.

Mia didn’t answer him. She slowly walked over and collapsed on her knees, looking at the old man with such pity. Sawyer walked a few more feet and stopped. He slowly looked to Mia. “Before he killed himself, he said . . .to tell you, thank you for trying.” Sawyer told her.

Mia still didn’t answer him. She already knew what he meant. She stared at Cecil’s body, hearing Sawyer leave. She then reached over and closed his eyes for him. Then she reached under and pulled out his wallet in his back pocket. She opened it up, looking at the picture of the man Cecil knew as his son. The old man wanted her to give it to him, since she knew he was going to make it off the island. “Good to my word, Cecil,” she whispered, placing it in her jacket pocket.

Mia slowly got up and turned to walk back to the beach. She would still keep her promise and give him a decent burial. But after the type of day she had, she figured she’d wait till tomorrow.

After all, he wasn’t going anywhere.