"Kasey! Kasey was the man that gave me your gun!" I gasped, "He took it from you, didn't he? It was too incriminating to leave it with you so he took it!"

Dale nodded. He was starting to look worse. "I can't even begin to explain in what kind of state I was in - I probably couldn't even tell left from right. It's no surprise that he managed to take it without me noticing. It's honestly a miracle I didn't crash the plane on the way back." he explained.

"And that's how you got the-" I stuttered, not wanting to sound rude.

"The scar? Yeah, I got it from the glass shard." he finished the sentence for me. He didn't sound even the tiniest bit offended.

"How did you figure out that the gun was here? Did Kasey tell you?" I questioned, trying to sound as less invasive as possible.

Dale thought for a bit, as though regaining his thoughts and said, "Once I found him, yes... I knew the gun had to be destroyed. If it fell into the wrong hands, well... who knows what could happen."

***

Dale knew his life was over. He spent the next couple of months in hiding, riding in the back of hippie-vans from state to state, which reminded him of his childhood. It was a bittersweet trip down memory lane. The only thing that kept him going was his determination to find Kasey and figure out what he did with the gun. It had to be destroyed.

Dale remembered how Kasey mentioned visiting his grandparents in Lecompton, a very small town in Kansas during Christmas, so he decided that would be his best bet.

On December 20th, Dale had made it to Lecompton - a very modest town with a population of under 700 people. He had decided to grab something to eat at the local diner and sure enough after finishing his Christmas meal of mashed potatoes and frozen sausages, he saw a familiar face walk in. He didn't need to call for Kasey to get his attention, he was already pretty noticeable. "Holy, is that you Dale?" he said and sat across from him, "It's... good to see you again." Dale shook his head, "Don't lie to me Kasey. I know you probably hate me, and you have every right too."

Kasey didn't respond, he just looked down at Dale's plate of leftover mashed potatoes and sat in silence which just confirmed that what he had just said was true.

"Listen Kasey, just answer me one thing and I'll go. You'll never see me ever again," Dale continued, "What did you do with the revolver?"

Kasey suddenly froze. He looked scared. "I-I sold it to a curiosity shop in Missouri to a this-this guy named Agnus George, h-here -" he grabbed a napkin from the napkin holder and took out a pen. He scribbled something down. "-that's the address of the shop." he stammered.

Dale folded the napkin and slid it into the pocket of his trench coat, "Thank you Kasey," he looked up at him, "Thank you for everything."

*

And so Dale headed back to his home state of Missouri, following the napkin that was given to him by Kasey. It took him only three days to get there, and once there he headed straight to the curiosity shop. Once in the right town, he decided to take a shortcut through one of the alleys, unknowingly to him, someone was waiting for him.

He was about to take a right turn that would lead him straight to Gus George's shop when a once-trust friend slammed him against the alley's brick wall. It took Dale a second to realize that it was Julian. He was atypically dressed in a black blazer. His once combed and sharp appearance was gone, he looked like a mad man.

"Found you," he sneered, "Seven months later and I found you!" his eyes blazed with such impeccable hatred that Dale had never seen in his life. Julian pulled out a gun and pointed it at Dale. His hands were shaking and Dale could see the overwhelming pain he was in.

"Julian, please-" he started, hoping that he could convince Julian to change his mind but he was interrupted.

"I TRUSTED you! I trusted you with my sister! You promised to protect her," he wept, "I thought of you as a brother, as my right-hand man." his hands were shaking even more now, and Dale could feel that his untimely death approaching.

"You betrayed me." were Julian's last words before he fired his gun at Dale and ran.

Dale gasped in agony and clenched his hands over the bullet wound. He forced himself to stand up through all the pain and continue his last few steps to the shop-

***

Dale stopped. He was clenching his abdomen in pain. He opened his trench coat to reveal his blood-soaked shirt.

"Promise me you'll destroy the revolver," he said, his voice toneless and flat, "Don't tell the police about Julian he-" he didn't finish the sentence. His body went limp.

"Dale? DALE?" I yelled and tried to shake him awake, but he didn't respond. Panicked, I grabbed the phone from my counter and dialed 911, but it was useless. By the time the ambulance had come he had already bled out. They announced him dead on the scene. I promised myself that I would fulfill his wishes.