Home Is Where The Heart Is

Nashville Will used his word as a weapon. Once human beings had become merely a means to an end, he met their trust with false sincerity. Half parts silver tongue -- half parts lawyer’s smile, he monopolized the faith of the innocent in a desperate attempt to escape poverty’s grip, yet somehow always ended up right back where he’d started.

When the little black book mysteriously fell into Nashville Will’s lap, it was no surprise he never thought twice about cashing in on its contents. The carefully-folded check he’d found inside would allow him to live like a king for half a century down in New Orleans. As bystanders witnessing the whole ordeal asked what was up with the shocked look on his face, they crowded like vultures. “What was he going to do now?!” they optimistically pleaded.

Stew thought back to the moment he’d jumped off a train in the middle of nowhere just to chase down Nashville Will’s road dog when he’d wiggled loose at a brief stop out in the boonies -- which ended with him missing his only shot back into civilization with the rest of them. He had to walk over fifteen miles just to find some semblance of society, and still managed to keep the poor mutt by his side along the journey. A safe place to sleep for a few nights sounded more than nice.

Stumps thought back to when Nashville Will had sprained his ankle while the crew was camping out on Mississippi swamp land. While his backpack was quite a bit heavier than most of the vagrants’ Stumps had found himself exploring the world with, he offered to carry both of their packs the rest of the journey. Even as his aching muscles nearly collapsed from the weight of it all, Stumps carried on without uttering a single complaint. A new pair of boots would be all he needed to keep moving.

When Annie first laid eyes on Nashville Will, she was smitten. The moment she heard the sweet sound of his fiddle ringing through the French Quarter, Annie had fallen madly in love. After spending weeks recycling just enough bottles to purchase her own instrument, she practiced day after day for hours -- all to get his attention really. She would show him that she could indeed keep up with his quick pace, and perhaps the two would walk hand in hand until they grew old and frail together. A warm plate of food would keep her satisfied for weeks.

“Return it to the owner of course!” Nashville Will assured them without even batting an eye. They were his flock and he was their Shepherd, as usual. No longer seeing any need to continue collaborating with the companions that’d always watched out for him out on the streets these past few months, Nashville Will marched straight to the bank.

Mr. Williams had been stacking pennies since early childhood. Today was the big day. He’d finally received the insurance payout he’d been waiting for all year! After breaking his back while on the job a few months back, he’d been told he’d never be able to work for the construction company that’d kept him employed for the majority of his life ever again. Sure he ached with a pain sharper than a thousand lightning bolts, but at least he now had the funds to buy the home his family had struggled to afford rent on for as long as he could remember.

Mr. Williams walked the roads glowing with just the sort of unabashed pride one might notice on the face of a war veteran. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he made his way to the bank -- when suddenly, his little black book seemingly vanished out of thin air.

Nashville Will beamed like a maniac. With pockets that had gone from utterly empty to suspiciously overflowing in a matter of minutes, he strutted the roads with just the sort of unabashed pride one might notice on the face of a ravenous shark. He envisioned how his new future would soon play out -- more ale than any man could drink in a lifetime, enough devil’s lettuce for full time incapacitation, and a sea of hookers perhaps.

Nashville Will’s airhead had drifted so far up into the clouds, he barely noticed the approaching squad of delinquents. They noticed him though. With the quickest boom, bam, and pow you’d ever seen, he found himself bloodied and bruised -- looking up at the sky with just the sort of bewildered look only a lost puppy can pull off.

A wrinkled hand reached down to him from the heavens. “You alright kid? Looks like they got you pretty good!” Mr. Williams joked lightheartedly. Nashville Will winced in agony.

Almost completing forgetting all about the terrible misfortune that’d so randomly bestowed him earlier that day, Mr. Williams cleaned the kid up and ushered him inside - into a centuries-old shotgun house that’d soon be back on the market now that one of the town’s hardest working men didn’t have a penny to his name.

The Williams family greeted the poor boy with open arms. With all that was left in their pantry, they dished him out a generous plate of hardy grub, some friendly conversation, and just the sort of Southern hospitality that makes life worth living. Nashville Will felt right at home.