Dogtown

By Tidia & MOG, September 2006


Chapter 6/10

Sam leaned back in the chair in front of the microfiche machine and stretched his arms over his head. The long, narrow windows of the Gloucester Public Library pulled his tired eyes away from the newspaper article on the screen and he stared out at the gray that had rolled in and settled over the town. He had no difficulty imagining Gloucester as a sparkling seaside place in the summer; but in the off-season it had a quiet, forlorn atmosphere.

It only took thirty minutes after they’d arrived at the library for Dean’s restlessness to set in and he determined that a caffeine run was necessary. An hour later he snuck in a contraband coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts and handed it to his brother.

“Thanks.” Sam held the ice-filled cup below table level, analyzing it. “What is it?”

“French vanilla iced latte.”

Sam’s doubtful look moved from Dean to the drink, then back to Dean. “You actually ordered this?” He took a sip from the straw and was surprised at how easy the cold coffee went down.

“Oh hell, no. That girly drink? Molly suggested it.” Dean smiled and raised his eyebrows.

“Molly?” repeated Sam, now knowing why his brother had been gone so long. “So I get a girly drink because you wanted a hook up?”

“She gave me her phone number and some Munchkins.” Dean pulled a glazed doughnut hole from a small bag in his coat pocket and popped it into his mouth.

“Munchkins?” Sam stared at his brother.

“Dude, you really need to learn the language,” Dean said while chewing. “These,” he pulled another one, this time chocolate, out of his pocket, and waved it in front of his brother before eating it, “are Munchkins.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, everywhere not Dunkin’ Donuts country - those be doughnut holes.”

“There was a Dunkin’ Donuts in Lawrence when we were kids,” replied Dean, with a hint of indignation.

“Yeah, and we never went. The only place we ever went was on West 9th – Joe’s Bakery.”

Dean shrugged. “What did you find?” he asked, in a low voice. The Gloucester library appeared to be lax with the whispering rules, but he didn’t want to risk librarian attention and wrath by getting caught going against the ‘no food or drink’ regulation.

Sam took a sip of coffee before explaining. “That big rock in the woods…you know, the one Emily was hugging? Well, during the Depression, a guy by the name of Roger Babson commissioned unemployed stonecutters to carve inspirational phrases in two dozen boulders throughout Dogtown.”

“Inspirational phrases? You mean like peace, faith, love?” Dean looked at a book lying open on the table and the photograph of a man in a suit standing with several laborers.

Sam stared at his brother, noticing his pensive mood. “And here I thought you were going to guess sex, drugs, and rock and roll.”

Dean smiled, but asked another question. “You think she was drawing some kind of power from the rock?”

“It definitely seemed like we met two different people out there last night. There’s nothing about Babson that would indicate the rocks were infused after the carving, but remember that – oh, what was it called…” Sam gestured with his hands.

“The Stone of Destiny,” Dean replied, picking up his brother’s train of thought.

“Right,” Sam nodded, “supposed to give power to the rightful kings of Ireland and Scotland.”

Dean wiped at the sugar glaze he could feel on the corners of his mouth. “Maybe if we can get her to do it again, she can tell us how to help her.”

Sam drummed his fingers on the open book in front of him. “Go straight to the source…That would be different for us.”

“If I gave you a fake ID to go into the woods, would that make you feel better?” Dean gathered up the books to return to the reference section.

“Bite me,” Sam replied, “and give me one of those stupid Munchkins.” Dean slipped one to him and he chewed it quickly and took a drink of coffee before tucking the cup clandestinely into his coat. “So do we have a Plan B? In case the touchy-rocky thing doesn’t work?”

Dean didn’t hide a mischievous smile. “Maybe with your shining you can do magic spells…like a witch.”

Sam stared at him flatly. “Yeah, and maybe I have an evil twin too.”

“Hmm, an evil witch - kinda an anti-Sammy.” Dean made a show of shuddering. “One of you is bad enough.”