Tough Hank is struck mute. (I am working on my spelling and punctuation)
| Chapter 2
Hank opened his eyes and saw a large figure looming over him. He He had no idea where he was, but he knew he was cold. He was covered in morning dew. It was day. He was confused, but he knew he wasn't hung over, since he hadn't been drinking the night before. Then Hank remembered last night. The horror he had seen! He sat up suddenly and gasped. He felt dizzy and had to hold his head to compose himself.
"And just what do you think you were doing sleeping at the edge of the old cemetery, young man?" said the large man looming over him. At first Hank had thought
the large figure had been his buddy Earl. But as Hank had recalled, Earl had collapsed back at the shack from fright at the sight of the...thing. "You gonna talk
boy, or you just gonna sit there all day, huh?" asked the figure standing over him. "Come on, kid. Let's get you up. What's yer name, anyway?" The person helped
Hank to his feet. Hank looked up at the friendly face. It was non other that officer David Harley, the local law of the town so everyone said. Hank opened his
mouth and tried to speak, but once again not a sound came out of it. He looked sad and puzzeled. He gestured with his hands on his throat and shook his head no,
trying to make Harley understand that he could not speak.
"What's wrong, son?" asked the officer, "You mute er something?" Hank sighed and nodded. Officer Harley studied the boy for a moment, then said, "Come on, son.
Let's figure out who you are and why I found you here. Let's go." Harley led Hank to his patrol car and put him in the passenger seat. Once Harley was inside the
car, he turned to Hank and said to him, looking very serious, "Now don't go getting any funny ideas about any criminal behavior. I'm giving you the benefit of the
doubt and being extremely lenient with you, son. I could easily lock you up fer trespassing on a private cemetary. The people of this town hold this land to be
very secred. Many have died servin their country. I'm letting you off easy. Now buckle up." Hank said nothing. He felt helpless not being able to speak up for
At the police station, Hank was identified as the son of Todd Levinsen, the town drunk. Todd worked at the steel mill and made good money. But all that changed
when the recesion of the early 90s hit. The town of Colton had never really recovered from the recession when the rest of the US recovered. Todd was laid off and
began to drink more heavily. He worked temp jobs but never made enough to survive on. Until he met Clarissa. Clarissa was a downer, only trying to take what little
cash that Todd could make. Hank learned to hate his father and hate Clarissa even more. It came as no surprise when Clarissa made off with what little savings Todd
had managed to get together. Clarissa was long gone with the cash. The whole situation had hardened Hank into a tough guy who seemed to be at odds with everyone he
came in contact with. He only looked out for himself. And with the exception of his only real two friends, Earl and Rick, who was now either dead or possessed, he
Officer Harley shook Todd Levinson's hand firmly. Todd's grip was weak. "So, Mr. Levinson, said Harley, I found your son, Hank here out by the old cemetery sleeping on the grass this morning. Todd shrugged. The smell of beer was fresh on his breath. "So...what," said Todd, grasping for words. He was obviously drunk. "I
used to try hitting him with a belt but it never worked...let him do what..." <hick> "he wants now..." Harley was silent. Todd turned to his son. "What ya got to say
for yourself Hanky?! Huh? I know your 16 and all, but I could still beat you in a fight to the death...come on...let's..." The old bird started to put up his shaky
fists as if to start a brawl, right there in the police station. Harley calmly stepped between the father and son. "Calm down, Mr. Levinson, or should I call you
Todd. Let's be civil."
Todd eyed his son suspiciously. "You haven't said a word since you've been here. What's up?" Hank glanced at officer Harley. Harley nodded. "Your son seemed to
be under the impression the he's mute. He hasn't spoken a word to me since I found him this morning." Todd's bushy eye brows raised in surprise. Hank? Mute? Why,
that's preposterous! He can't stop talking. He never stops talking. He be lying, I tells ya."
"I'm not sure about that, Mr. Levinson," said Harley. "I think your son is telling the truth. And I think he may know exactly why he can't speak. But as long
as he can't tell us what actually happened, we can't help him. We may never know."