1 hour fic challenge for the Vin F&D group: "DOUBLE STANDARD"
Ezra sloughed off his jacket, tossed it on the bed and sank down onto the mattress. The last few days had been... trying. Between the death of that sweet girl, Irene, the ruckus of the traveling show and the difficulties surrounding Poplar and Josiah, Ezra was exhausted.
He couldn't help but think of poor Miss Dunlap, her throat slit. She must have been terrified in those final moments. She had been cool toward him at first, but professional, accepting his items for repair. It hadn't taken long for his charm to win her over and they'd formed a sort of friendship in the short time she'd been working in town. The gambler fingered the jacket recalling that it had been the last item Irene had repaired for him. He sighed.
What would drive a man to kill like that? A rough childhood? Ezra let out a hoarse, choked laugh. Josiah had explained Poplar's 'confession' to him in more detail over a few drinks. It sickened Ezra. He could understand being angry with one's mother, even hating her at times, but how warped would you have to be to turn that anger on others?
Ezra scrubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. The wind had been atrocious the last few days and it seemed every conversation had to be shouted to be heard. Still, he had to admit it was more likely the stress of the situation that was causing his headache.
Heaven knew Josiah was a volatile man, and drink never made him easier to deal with, but Ezra still tended to look up to him in some ways. Seeing the older man so... beaten, so willing to accept punishment for something he didn't do, had shaken Ezra.
Hiding that emotion wasn't easy, but it was necessary until the killer was caught. Now it was all catching up with him. The hardest thing was that he kept finding similarities between himself and Poplar.
They'd both been raised by women who used men for financial gain. True, Maude had never sold her body for money, at least not in the way Poplar's mother had. No, Maude always went for the most money possible and that usually required a legal commitment, like marriage or at least a business partnership.
Ultimately, both women had done what they did for their sons, at least, so Maude still claimed. Ezra took a deep breath and exhaled. His mind was whirring in circles. What was so different about Poplar that he had tipped into madness? Why did his love for his mother twist into such hatred that he had to punish other women for her supposed crime?
Ezra sat up straight, looking into the mirror on the dresser beside him. Realization struck him and he did not like the look of self-condemnation in the reflection. Hadn't he been guilty of imposing the same double standard on Maude?
One expected a mother to take care of her child, no matter the circumstances. So how could you condemn her when she had to take extreme measures to provide for her son? How could he find fault in the way Maude had raised him when compared to Poplar's mother? Which was worse? What one thing had Maude done differently that kept Ezra from becoming like Poplar?
Ezra shook his head. This line of thinking was getting him nowhere. Poplar had been insane, regardless of what caused it. The most important thing was that the killing was stopped. Poplar wouldn't harm any more women. Josiah was getting over whatever had sent him spiraling into a bottle after he visited Vista City and Nathan seemed to be very chipper after his visit with Rain. Things would get back to normal now, and he refused to contemplate why being in this town equated to normal.
Ezra stood up, grabbed his jacket and gave it a good smack to knock off some of the dirt. The blasted wind had lodged dust into every crevice. It was time for a long, hot bath and a stiff drink. And perhaps, yes, it had been a while since his last missive to Maude. Perhaps he would pen a letter detailing the ineptitude of the traveling show's cons. A smile crooked one corner of his mouth. Mother would enjoy that.
The end.
Feedback is greatly appreaciated. JudyL
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