Angell Summer

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-What derivation is your name?-

Third person's POV

He raised himself on one elbow and confirmed what his body told him that outside was still black as midnight a key turned in the lock and the tumblers clicked loud in the midnight stillness.

“What-?” Angell muttered in a voice hoarse with sleep. Sheriff Lee is that you? The door creaked as the sheriff pushed it wide, causing the man holding the lamp to step back or be run over.

“It's me Summer,” the sheriff said, Get up you gotta go with this man. The sheriff pushed his hat back on his head strode into the cell and hauled Angell up and out of the cot with a rough hand. “C’ mon now. I ain’t got all night Get your booty outta bed.” Angell stumbled to his feet and grabbed for his vest and boots just managing to snag his hat from the bedstead before pushed up from the cell with arms full. The man holding the lamp exited swiftly to the office Angell caught sight of his face as he passed through the door. It was Matthew Flynn, Miss McCarthy’s traveling companion, so they were as good as their word, he thought So far, anyway.

“Here you are,” Flynn intoned to the sheriff as the lawman locked the door behind them. “As we agreed.” A pile of the bill, new crisp and numerous from what Angell could see. Flynn bestowed them solemnly into the sheriff’s palm, as though conferring upon him some kind of benediction. “Thank you for your cooperation, Sheriff Lee. I expect neither of us would like to hear another word about what just happened.”

“You got it.” Sheriff Lee flipped a finger through the pile, more out of glee than any desire to count the money, it seemed.

“Well, damn .” Angell applied a jaunty grin. “I didn’t know I was worth that much to anybody.”

Flynn glanced at him coldly. “You’re not you were in the right place at the right time, so don’t get any inflated ideas of worth.”

Sheriff Lee chuckled as he pocketed the cash. “Don’t feel bad Summer you’re looking pretty valuable to me right now.”

“Thank you, sheriff,” Angell spout out, clapping him on the shoulder then bent on his boots. “Gotta be cheaper and building gallows, wouldn’t you say?”

“Holy jeez,” she said, consternation in her eyes as Matthew stepped in behind him. “Couldn’t they let him have his bath?” She asked the well-heeled man as he deposited himself next to her. Across from the two impeccable people Angell felt huge and filthy, he wished he could unfasten the thick leather holster from his waist. Regardless, he sank down in the seat and pushed his hat low on his forehead he didn’t have to impress these people he thought stubbornly and hoped nobody would notice the flush he could feel to the roots of his hair.

“Begging your pardon Miss,” he mumbles there weren’t any tub- they got nothing but pot over there at the jail.”

Then realizing he’d once again brought up the subject of privies he closed his eyes and muttered “Fuck it” what on earth had made him think he could do this? He thought with disgust, It had been more years than he could count since he’d had to display any sort of politeness and though he had memories of what the high-class life was like, he was suddenly conscious of the fact that any manners he may once have had been buried deep and possibly long gone. The realization surprised him.

Beneath the brim of his hat, Angell saw Miss McCarthy and Mr. Flynn exchange a worried look, what the hell with them, he thought irritably, did they think just because they’d made a deal he’d miraculously turn into some spit polished dandy? It would serve them right if he turned out to be nothing but an honest - to - God, dyed in the wool hayseed.

“Mr. Summer, Miss McCarthy began with her voice soothing as a balm to his fraying self-confidence, would you mind if I asked you a few personal questions?” He eyed her for a moment from beneath his hat hoping this wasn’t the personal interrogation he dreaded. Then he pushed himself up a little and unfolded his arms, "Alright."

" Do you know how to read?” Don’t get me wrong, Mr. Summer just wanna know.

Uh, “yeah, I know how to read and write.”

Please, can you read this out loud to me and Mr. Flynn to hear? She put on a worried face hoping for Angell to read just fine.

Angell sighed because it has been long he picked up a book to read, he holds the book and started reading. Miss McCarthy and Mr. Flynn were shocked by the way his accent goes, and the way he rolled his tongue making a “piff” sound with the little space between his upper teeth.

I’m amazed, Mr.Flynn spout out of unison, he’s good Mimi,

Miss McCarthy face was just filled with shock, still trying to harbor Angell’s accent,

Angell was just smiling like a tard and Miss McCarthy returned the smiling gesture.

I want you to write down your name, Miss McCarthy spout in a polite manner.

“No kidding?” He asked, awed and looked at the thing after a moment, he realized they were staring at him perhaps thinking he was stalling he laid the pen to the paper and confidently scrawled his name then he printed it beneath in neat block letters or as neat as could be achieved in a moving coach he held it up, blew on it and handed it across to her.

“Summer Angell,” she read. Hmm. That’s an interesting spelling. Did I think that its Angell first before Summer? And what derivation is your name Mr. Angell? She asked.

Angell was so engrossed in the conversational tone of her voice he nearly forgot to pay attention to its meaning. She sounded as if she was talking to one of her own which made him both suspicious and strangely flattered. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until he’d been staring at her an unusual amount of time that he realized he could not recall what 'derivation' meant.

“Huh?” Popped out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“Oh my God, where does it come from?” Matthew burst out then he ran a hand through his perfectly combed oily hair and turned apologetically to Miss McCarthy. “I’m sorry Mimi, but this is going to be impossible. I told you before that I had a bad feeling, and I’m just - I’m really starting to feel worried about this.”

Miss McCarthy stopped him with a gloved hand to his forearm. “Matthew,” she commanded quietly.

“Hush. It's done now and Mr. Angell is doing greatly.” She bestowed a warm smile on him, Now, are your parents from this country or did they emigrate from somewhere else? Angell was so irritated with himself for being charmed by her patience and so annoyed at Matthew’s Intolerance that he decided to make a point of shocking them.

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