"Miss Susan?" Called the shop keeper. She looked up and saw the demon push a tray over towards her. "Could you please check if its to your liking?"
To her liking, she knew it would be. This particular craftsman was well known for their reclaimed metal jewelry. She had seen his work a number of times in the paper and online. And she knew he wouldn't disappoint. She opened the box and there they sat in a velvet box polished to a shine but also had a faint patina to show their age and their use were a pair of bullet cuff links shaped into a pair of flowers . On the side just below the oxidized colored petals and on the brassy sepals each of them were stamped with the initials A. J. E. J. and C. One for each the folks who could not attend the wedding in person.
The shop keep leaned over their counter with a mild smile. Their claws dingy and well callused from their work. The Sinner's eyes were glistening with the pride they had for their work and service. "Are they to your satisfaction?"
The lid clicked closed and Susan smiled. "A job well done. They came out beautifully, thank you."
The shop keep handed Susan a small silk bag and a slipped a small piece of paper into it. "I doubt he will need it, but care instructions if they ever do. Come back any time. It's been a joy Miss. Susan. I haven't created anything this sentimental and tender in a long time. " He said tapping the case below them pointing to an pendant that clearly once was a wedding band. "I use to make things like that for the widowed, but not many people come in for that, not in Hell."
Susan breathed a somber smile, "Well...if I do come back, it won't be for that. It'll be celebratory."
"I'd like that, Miss. Susan. Here's the other one you ordered." He said hoisting a much heavier box onto the counter revealing the warmly stained wood.
Susan let out a laugh at the sight of the horseshoe hat rack. "This is perfect too!" Running her fingers over the burnt silhouette of Striker and Bombproof. Keenie had done a great job of getting her the horse shoes.
"For the same man?"
"They sure are."
"Hell don't make funny Grannies like you anymore."
Susan smiled closing the lid. "Many people would disagree with you. but thank you."
Now it was a matter of getting these items to him. Always a challenge considering he was always on the move and his hideouts were secretive. But there had to be drop points. Maybe if she could find the vicinity of where he was she could deliver it there.
"Oh! That's right he did write something down for me once." She muttered as she flipped through her phone for the address. It wasn't a place she could ever visit, no casually anyway, but Striker had put in regardless. "Here it is." A saloon in Wrath.
Boxed up and wrapped up securely she gave the package an extra level of security with a personal stamp. After all the contents were precious to her. The metal stamp lifted from the surface and a lily with grape leaves glistened with yellow sparks in blue ink and its light slowly crept around the package. If anyone beyond Striker tried to open it, they would find their hand a burnt stump.
She watched the imp postal worker carry the box into the back and breathed in a breath hoping that it would make it safely down to Wrath.
Tuck within the box were his two gifts and a letter.
For the last decade I have watched you grow from a dusty greenhorn cowboy to the successful man that you are now. The skills you've honed, have shot through the layers Hell like divine light.
I've seen you face your challenges and losses with grit and perseverance. With a tenacity that most people could not even begin to muster. I've watched you mature, in many ways beyond your mustache, and your weird teeth. Your loyalty is unmatched to those you care about. You're a ruthless killer, that makes me smile every time the paper tell me you've succeeded. But the blood stains have never once washed away the side of you that has made this old withered soul feel alive again.
Your wild Wrathian spirit reminds me of a time I can only call a memory, and your visits bring joy I thought I had lost so long ago. From the day you first visited in your patchy overalls, to your tattered oversized duster to now, you've given me a gift Earth and the Heavens have not.
And so, Beanpole. I want give you a gift, that I hope will help you on your new journey.
The first is a gift that I had made with the help of Keenie, that when you are able to, you'll have a place to safely hang that beloved hat of yours when you rest. — And yes, these are his shoes.
And the second, is for you to wear when you standing there waiting for your Harp to walk down the aisle. I know how close you hold your family to your heart , and I wanted them to be as close to you when you two are married. They're made from a pair of bullets you left behind in my walls a handful of years ago.
Happy Father's Day, Grand Nephew and Congratulations.
With every ounce of affection and pride.
