A Prodigal Son
The following is author commentary for The Road Cain Walks, Monday - Chapter 4. If you haven’t yet started the story, you can find the first chapter here.
I get a kind of nostalgia during the editing process, especially with later drafts, when the story is set and all that’s left is getting the words right. It’s kind of like time travel, meeting characters as the reader will but with full knowledge of how their story plays out.
Though every character introduced in this first day in Pine Haven gives me that feeling, none hits the note quite so loudly as Vick Hafferty. As one of the youngest focal characters, he has the most growing to do, his entire life ahead to make mistakes—some reparable, others far more permanent. He’ll get as much wrong as he gets right, starting on the floor of his bedroom after a night he regrets even more as he remembers it.
Through the Eyes of a Father
Before I dig too deeply into this hungover version of Vick, it’s important to take a step back and recap what’s been established about him through a more scrutinizing lens—the eyes of his own father.
In the novel’s first chapter, Mitch Hafferty made a routine traffic stop (or almost did) that brought with it a memory that left a bad taste in his mouth. The car he pulled over belonged to Vick’s ex-fiancee, a girl he’d fallen hard for in high school, enough to put a ring on her finger before she left for college. Then, he’d cheated on her, not only losing the girl of his dreams but apparently the daughter-in-law of his father’s. Mitch couldn’t even bring himself to walk to her window, even to let her go.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Vick Hafferty
Vick’s official introduction comes as he suffers the self-earned punishment of a long night drinking. As the fog of residual alcohol recedes and his memory of the night before clears, nausea and a headache are the least of his worries.
At the previous night’s dinner, Vick caught the eye of a waitress. Some flirtation and his number on a receipt would have been fine, but something else happens with Vick, something more predatory. He’s aware of his own charisma in the same way as a conman (literally a “confidence” man), using it as a trap he baits by suddenly withdrawing his attention. Returning home, there’s no doubt in his mind it will work.
And it does. The waitress calls. He invites her over. Whether or not he manipulated her there, she still comes of her own free will and with obvious intentions. Before they even get close to the business at hand, she makes a casual mention of her husband.
Affairs are common enough in the real world. Some even happen exactly like this: flirtation leading to intention before a last second “I’m married.” Betrayed vows aside, it’s somewhat understandable for the promise of sex to override all rational thought. It’s an established moral blind spot for Vick, who lost the love of his life because he cheated on her—and confessed to it.
If Vick has any redeeming quality so far, it’s his regret. He doesn’t do whatever he wants and go on whistling through life. Somewhere in him lives a sense of karmic justice, that the bad he does is sure to be punished. The scar over his eye from Suzanne’s engagement ring supports it, as does his current hangover. As he makes it to his couch and lies among the evidence of his latest night full of bad decisions, he’s ready for everything to get worse.
Then comes a knock at his door.
