Haughty Boys

The warm breeze ruffled Joe’s hair as he turned off the sidewalk, the bag of groceries swinging easily at his side. He’d walked up the driveway of his childhood home a thousand times, past the freshly mowed lawn decorated with blooming trees. The songs of vigorously mating sparrows muffled the distant screams of hurried emergency vehicle sirens. As the asphalt changed to a lily-lined red brick walkway beneath Joe’s feet, the aroma of hot buttermilk pancakes slipped through an open front window to greet him. His mouth could practically taste the maple syrup he was toting to pour thickly over them. Despite the silverware clattering into place all around the table, the people in the kitchen heard Joe enter the living room through the front door. “Come on in, son! There’s a stack in here with your name on it!” Fenton Haughty’s cheerful attitude grew from his popular status in the community. After a long career as a detective for the Baytown police force, Fenton started a new one as a...

The morning sun shone brightly onto the tree-lined city of Mayfield. Three miles away it glistened off the waves that carried early-rising surfers along for a ride before gently kissing the sands of the California coastline. The rays leisurely warmed the families spreading picnic blankets on the beach. In town, the rising daylight still ducked just enough to invite itself under the red awning of Pop’s Place, Mayfield’s oldest convenience store. It gleamed off the barrel of the pistol in the robber’s hand. Joe Haughty squinted his cool blue eyes against the weapon’s glare, measuring the situation. The athletic 18 year old stood 6’1” tall, giving him a slight edge. If the masked man outweighed Joe by a few pounds, it was only due to extra fat. “The money!” barked the man with a menacing wave of the gun. The voice had a smoker’s raspiness to it which suggested another advantage for the blonde teen, a repeat track champion with a racehorse’s endurance. To Joe, the anxious fist pounding...