So before Mr. Finn’s kid invited me for to his Pop’s shop for a free haircut so I decided to take him up on it. Nice place as you can see. While Mr. Finn gave me a trim and a shave we start talking. He tells me about Farson and how there was a quake that broke the dam and flooded out what was left. I told him that’s kind of like what Steelhead’s going through, but I suspect that volcano will blow any day now.
Little Finn's a nice kid but at 14 he’s too young to smoke. He also needs to button up his shirt and go to charm school while he’s at it. While we’re yakking this guy with an Appalachian drawl thick as molasses wanders in with a holster taking up the whole side of his thigh. I thought he might have been a lawman but that’s not the case. More of a businessman. I didn’t ask details but the moon was shining bright if you know what I mean.
Guy's name is Chance. Turns out he’s a big gun collector. By which I mean he collects big guns. Cannons even. And he likes to practice shooting abandoned crates off the pier. Holy smokes. Should I tell them they sometimes smuggle people in those things? Where was this guy when I needed backup in Innsmouth?
Speaking of canon, Finn Sr. asks me about my back story. Great. Now I gotta make one up. Here goes nothing.
The Littman family had old money from Virginia tobacco. We lived on an old plantation that my grandpa foreclosed on after the previous occupants went missing during the so-called War of Northern Aggression. My Pop was a lawyer and helped in the military court during the Great War. He made his way to military judge. A real spit-and-polish no-nonsense kind of guy. He made my sister Simonetta and I line up for inspection each morning before breakfast. That’s why when I had my fill of it and split to go round up cattle out West he hired some goons to haul my skinny kosher cowboy keister back east and throw me into law school. Miskatonic freaking University of all places. I think he has some deal with that Mason family on the other side of the Line that we’ve known for generations because their boy Darien ended up being my roommate. Nice kid if you could take all the drama. Ever get the feeling somebody’s been planning out your whole life behind the scenes? Yeah, me neither.
After Pop died we sold most of the land and kept the mansion. Simonetta’s still there. After managing what was left of the estate she’s gone into the art trading business and seems to be holding up okay. Meanwhile I’m the one with massive school debt and being stalked by loansharks with real gills.
Well finally I walk out while Chance is showing off his motorcycle so I can’t hear myself think. At least I look good enough now to find a real job.