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It had been over two months since Holliday had embarked to New York for the ritual. Despite following through with the gruesome process, she never got her wish granted. But life goes on, she promised her town that she would stop the Troubadour, and today she was seeing someone who hopefully had a lead on him.
Holliday coughed up dust from the hallway as she slid open the creaky door to the lecture hall. It featured a raised ceiling and a large window that overlooked the rest of Columbia University, letting the early winter sunset coat the eight rows of chairs and desks escalating the room. It was the type of sight that almost makes you understand why everyone leaves your town to go off to college.
“Have a good day Carlos!” Dynamo said from his podium before catching the sheriff out of the corner of his eye. “Oh Holliday, it's so nice to see you again.” He took a closer look at her shoulder. “And I see you brought Rem as well!”
“Not many other options, I don't know any babysitters in New York," she said while scratching at Rem's neck to a cooing response. "So, have things changed much since the ritual?"
"No, that's the terrifying part. Both patrons disappeared without trace and still haven't revealed what their-"
"I meant if things changed much for you," she interjected.
"Ah, well, the boys in my undergrad classes started to take me seriously. Turns out being pictured in the newspaper fighting a werewolf is cool to teenagers."
Holliday snickered as she leaned against a nearby chair, “At least you got something out of it.”
“It was fun until Marla saw the paper, she was not happy with me," he said pensively. "She told me if she knew how dangerous it was, she would’ve never let me go.”
"My folks weren't too happy with me either," she muttered, lighting a cigarette, fully unaware that wasn't a thing you should be doing in a school.
Dynamo turned his attention to the night owl, “Well Rem, has your new mom been treating you well?"
Holliday grimaced at the word ‘mom’.
“She’s helping me find my home!” said Rem enthusiastically.
Holliday had promised Rem that right before the ritual, but had done little in the way of doing so; the Troubadour was a far more pressing matter to her. It was another drop of guilt in her bucket, but she figured that at least keeping him safe would be some penance for all the mistakes she’d made.
Rem continued his ode, “And she reads me bedtime stories to help me sleep. I love her!”
She didn't read bedtime stories, she didn't know any. To satiate him, she would recount weird life stories, but with her name replaced with ‘Ms. J’.
“This maniac waits for me to fall asleep first before jumping into my head to bug me,” said Holliday, secretly indebted to the fact that her dreams are now about him instead of that day. Her hand moved to pet Rem again, but was only met with her empty shoulder. Her eyes darted around the room until she found him on Dynamo’s desk.
“Hey!” she barked as she pulled Rem away from poking a precariously placed lava lamp.
“Let me go!” yelled Rem.
“Don’t touch other people’s stuff.”
“I wasn’t going to break it! It’s just so bubbly.”
Dynamo chucked, “The students love the lava lamp. My lectures can be kind of dry, so this helps them focus.”
“Is it made of real lava?” asked Rem.
Dynamo picked up the possibly lava lamp, “It’s made of wax bubbles, they get hot at the bottom which causes them to rise and then cools down, which causes them to fall, like hot air balloons.”
Rem was in awe, not knowing what wax or hot air was. “Is your head a lava lamp?”
“It’s a black hole.”
“Do you keep snacks in the hole? And is that why your belly is so big?”
Holliday realized that this series of questions was never going to end unless she intervened, so she deployed one of her dad’s favorite tricks, “Hey Rem, do you want to wear the hat again?”
Rem’s head snapped to her and his ears perked up. “Yes I do! Yes I do!”
Holliday grinned. “Here ya go,” she said, tossing her hat onto the young deputy.
Rem unholstered his finger gun, “Sorry Crego, but Marshall Matt Dillon is here to stop you once and for all! BANG, BANG!” He scurried off to a corner of the room out of earshot. Why don't all parents keep a hat on standby, she mused to herself.
Holliday turned towards the view of Columbia, “You already know why I’m here,” she said. “There's been a series of sightings of a man playing the trumpet on top of the university clocktower.”
“I’ve been hearing the students talk about that. Apparently he is very talented.” Dynamo was obviously playing dumb to who she thought the man was.
Holliday walked over to the large window. "The sightings have consistently been on Wednesday nights,“ she said. "I know you tend to stay late on Wednesdays to catch up on grading papers.” She pointed at his office in the distance. “Giving you a perfect view of where he would be," she said, drawing a straight line to the clocktower.
He sighed, “I'll be happy to tell you whatever you need.”
Holliday pulled out a small leather-bound notebook and a bitten through pen from her jacket pocket.
“What time does he show up?”
“Typically around 7 when I wrap up grading.”
*LATE EVENING* she scribbled.
“What does he do?”
“All I've seen him do is play his trumpet and then disappear."
*SCOUTING PREY???* she jotted, becoming increasingly worried this might be just some band kid with a penchant for clocks.
“Anything else out of the ordinary?”
Dynamo pondered for a second. “I suppose the crows were awake and unusually loud.”
Her eyes widened. *DEFINITELY HIM* she wrote, and then circled repeatedly.
“Thanks Dynamo, that's all I need.”
This is really it, Holliday thought. I've finally found the son of a bitch.
Before she put her stuff away, she noticed that Rem had fallen asleep, using her hat as a crib, and realized there was one more thing she needed.
“Actually, can I ask for one more favor?” asked Holliday.
“Of course.”
“Assuming that the information I have is true, I’ll finally be confronting the Troubadour tomorrow. Would you be able to look after Rem for that night?” Holliday averted her gaze to the ground, “And for a lot longer if I don’t come back.”
A brief pause emerged as he processed what she said, the only sound in the room being the buzz from the building's shoddy wiring.
Dynamo, despite lacking a mouth, gave her a comforting smile. “Marla and I would be glad to.”
“Thank you,” said Holliday, returning the gesture.
The sunset over the school was beginning to fade into a deep purple, the lava lamp becoming the primary source of light in the room.
Dynamo looked over at Rem, "The little guy has taken quite a liking to you.”
“I guess so,” she said.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?”
Holliday let out an indignant scoff, “If your wife was taken from you, would you stop at nothing till her killer was brought to justice?”
“Marla nearly lost me due to that stupid ritual, just so I could get my body back for her," Dynamo said, gazing down at his metal vessel. "She never even wanted that from me. All I'm asking is for you to think of your loved ones before doing this.”
She usually dismissed this line of attack, but it felt more potent as she stood at the event horizon of her journey. Maybe she really should give this up. Focus her detective skills on helping Rem find his way home; or, if that failed, making Macomb his new home.
But then she remembered what brought her to New York in the first place.
“Don’t you compare yourself to me!” snapped Holliday. "You chose to risk your life. I don't have a choice! Everyone there is counting on me to avenge their loved ones, the people I was supposed to protect!"
Her mind flooded with thoughts about the eight-year-old boy she tried to console after he found his mother's insides spilling onto their kitchen floor. About the man she divorced a year prior strung like floss across a telephone pole, and the new widow she had to break the news to. About all the people that Ms. J had loved and hated over the years, but were mutilated all the same. And about how she can never let what happened to her little sister happen to Rem.
"I can't protect them as long as that bastard is still out there," Holliday said somberly, gripping the cuff of her right sleeve.
Dynamo didn't know how to respond, whatever he had to say got stuck in his throat.
“… I’m sorry for overstepping sheriff.”
Holliday took one last drag of her cigarette before quietly picking up Rem and entering the hallway.
“I’ll see you tomorrow professor.”