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Epilogue

The months flew by, and before he could realize it, Marcus found himself standing next to Joji behind a podium; Joji's arm encompassing him in a presentation of triumph. They were in the wide reception area of a local restaurant. The room was darkened, except for the bright, hot spotlights shining down on the two of them, as well as the barrage of camera flashes. In front of them was a crowd of enthusiastic people carrying rectangular, blue signs with white font that read "Re-Elect Sheriff Barkin" and bobbed up and down like the waves of a sea. Behind them was a red banner with gold font that read "VICTORY!"

Marcus had decided to go ahead with his promise to manage Joji's campaign. He had a promise to keep, even if the return promise was not completely satisfactory. Joji's face beamed as he shook Marcus with gratitude. A half smile was all Marcus he could muster with the least bit of authenticity.

Looking out into the crowd, Marcus's eyes gazed on Reis who standing next to Karma. Reis, along with Joji, Karma and the other officers who entered the school building that day were awarded by the governor with the "Medal of Bravery," which was the highest state honor. It meant a lot to Reis, who was a lot more quiet the past few months than usual, but he was hanging in there.

Standing below him was Alex, hunched over on a pair of crutches. The September 4th shooting had become known as the "Mayfield Miracle." Despite almost fifty injured, and over twenty in critical condition, all survived. Alex was one of the last ones to be let out of the hospital. But when he was, he wasn't dispirited or even humbled. In fact, he was spunkier and even more of a wise-ass as ever; no one would have it any other way, not even Joji, Marcus thought, as Alex's once consistent complaints about him were now almost non-existent.

And standing next to Reis and Alex was August. He stood out in his own right, being the only one person wearing jeans and pure white shirt that was covered by a jean-jacket in a crowd of people dressed in suits and dresses. Marcus remembered hearing Joji say that August has only worn a suit three times in his life, though he did not specify. August's boyish face beamed at his brother. Marcus could not get over how young August looked for a thirty-two year old, and his reputation preceded him on how much of a laid back fun-lover he is. That being so, Joji did not ask him to perform at his election night party, knowing August's dogma of not playing for any political purposes whatsoever.

A debt was owed to August showing up when he did. Since then, Reis and Marcus had gotten to know him well; which was a blessing given the circumstances. Whenever he was around, he would always try to lighten things up, and his charm did not make that hard. Whether he had to play his guitar, tell incredible stories, or just look at you with his loveable and trustworthy smile, he never failed to brighten the bleakest of moments. That was especially helpful whenever Reis went into a mood swing, or when Joji spent hours pacing around his house in the night, or when Alex fought to get his strength back to stand, or when Marcus was just plain pissed off.

Marcus did not like to dwell on how the past few months might have turned out had August not been there, but the thought lingered.

We owe him big.

Marcus was not beside Joji for long. Joji only gave a few remarks thanking Marcus for his work and Marcus stepped down without a second's delay after Joji was done.

After Joji gave his victory speech and the crowd dispersed, Marcus found himself slouched in a metal chair in the office room of the police station: Joji moved the after-party there. Joji had posted the elections results on the bulletin board: it was a landslide. With 97% of the precincts reporting, the count was 67% for Joji and 33% for O'Hara. It was not a surprising result considering that Joji had become a local, and to some extent national, hero for his actions on September 4th; plus the last two months saw a drop in crime rates across the board. Marcus watched Joji sitting top of a desk surrounded by a few younger cops, laughing boastfully with them. August was sitting on another desk, joking around with his own small group of cops listening to him with intrigue. He had good reputation around the department.

Marcus had to keep an extra eye on Alex; the young Dalmatian took every opportunity he could get to flirt with some of the younger cops. Not that they paid much attention to him, but then again, there was still plenty of beer left in the office refrigerator that could make emotions fly. Indeed, Alex was talking to Toni in a corner, but Reis told Marcus not to worry about them since Toni, he said, isn't very sharp on picking up when someone is hitting on him, especially guys.

As Marcus placed his hands over the desk in front of him and ran his hands up his face and then down the back side of his head in exhaustion, he felt the firm grip of Reis on his shoulder. Reis put his muzzle to Marcus's ear, whispering:

"Come with me."

Reis pulled Marcus out of his chair and, taking him by the hand, led him to an office door that was a quarter open.

"What is it, Reis?"

Reis pushed the door open. The dark room was illuminated by the gray, flickering lights coming from a T.V. that was hanging in the corner.

"News from Florentine," said Reis gently.

As Marcus moved closer to the screen, his ears went deaf to the sounds coming from the commentators on the T.V. and the outside commotion when he saw the caption at the bottom of the scene.

"State Votes for Gay Marriage 51% to 49%: 99% of Precincts Reporting."

Marcus was dumbstruck. The past few months had made him nearly forget all about what was going on back East. He looked up at Reis, who was tenderly smiling; the heavy moist in his deep blue eyes shinned from the light of screen.

"I love you..." he said softly, picking up Marcus's left hand with his right, stroking the gold band on it.

Marcus's eyes immediately began to flood with emotion, with two streams of tears rolling down each cheek. In a similar way, he picked up Reis's left hand and held onto the ring on his finger.

"And I love you..." said Marcus, trying to speak past his whimpers.

"Forever?"

"Forever..."

Then Reis slide his hands down Marcus's arms and wrapped them around his back. Marcus did the same. Their muzzles met, and they pressed against each other with full intensity.

THE END