The rest of the morning and majority of the afternoon passed in relative peace. Gus and Thomas worked comfortably, moving in Gus’ meager possessions.
“You don’t have much, do you?” Asked Thomas, he was watching from the perch of Gus’ new box spring. Gus was busying himself with rearranging the writing desk in the corner. He wanted it closer to the windows, the idea of a view of the forest while he was working was really appealing.
“Not really,” shrugged Gus, “Haven’t had need of much.”
“Guess that’s fair,” said Thomas, glancing around the sparse room, “But we gotta get you some posters or something…this many blank walls is just depressing.”
“Depressing for you is relaxing for me,” chuckled Gus, tugging the bed with a small jerk into place while Thomas was still sitting on it.
“Jesus,” he started in surprise, nearly toppling free. He wrapped himself around the headboard as Gus finished moving the bed into place. “The hell were they feeding you?” Thomas demanded, “And how aren’t sweating? It’s like…at least ninety degrees in here.”
Gus reached up to his forehead and dabbed at the skin, true enough, he hadn’t shed so much as a drop. He brushed the comment aside.
“This is nothing to what I’m used to,” he shrugged. He reached into one of the boxes he’d carried up, and deposited a bundle of blankets and sheets onto the bed. Thomas watched him speculatively for a moment, like he was trying desperately to determine on the right words to use. Eventually, he gave it up, and said nothing. They worked for some time, and by around four in the afternoon, they had finished unpacking all of Gus’ belongings, and he’d managed to rearrange the furniture into what he felt would be most comfortable.
Gazing around his living room, he smiled. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. He glanced over his shoulder at Thomas, sprawled out along the couch, one arm draped dramatically over his face.
“I hate moving,” he moaned, “I hate it more than anything.”
Gus chuckled, walking over wrenching the man to his feet.
“Come on,” he gestured with his head to the door. “Show me the best place to eat. Dinners on me tonight,”
Thomas lit up; all sense of weariness seemingly gone. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” he said excitedly, “Come on!”
They left, Gus locking the door behind him.
“Can’t believe you still drive this thing,” Thomas mused, running a hand along the hood of Gus’ car. It was an old Ford Bronco, once pure white but since stained brown and black with dirt, dust, and time. Gus smiled, his gaze fond as he opened the door to the car.
“Not like I was going to get rid of it,” he said resolutely as Thomas got in beside him. “One of the few things I still have of Dad’s.”
“And I thought it felt like a death trap when we were twelve,” groused Thomas. But even then, he was smiling. Turning the ignition, the engine coughed and gurgled to life. Gus reversed out of the driveway, and began making his way downtown. It was a beautiful autumn day, cool in the shade, but warm enough in the sun to allow for them to drive with the windows down.
“You remember when we were sixteen, and we took the car onto Lake Paradise?” Asked Thomas, a melancholic smile on his face. Gus chuckled, nearly losing himself to the memory.
“Don’t think I could forget it if I tried.” He glanced at Thomas out of the corner of his eye, “And I feel like I need to be the one to say that it was your idea, and not mine, that we use your dad’s old toboggan.”
Thomas winced, unconsciously rubbing at his upper arm. “Never seen the old man that pissed before,” he sighed, “Was pretty sure he was going to kill me.”
“We hitched his dad’s prized toboggan to my trailer hitch, and used the thing as a damned sled,” laughed Gus, “and then we accidentally sunk it in the middle of the lake. I’m pretty sure we both got off lucky.”
“Probably,” shrugged, Thomas, “You’re going to want to take a left on Iron, by the way. Place we’re going is off the beaten path.”
Gus arched a brow, but didn’t question it, instead making the aforementioned turn.
Thomas was silent for a couple of moments, his face contorted in thought, and worrying at his lip the way he had as a kid whenever he was feeling particularly anxious about something.
“You know you can ask whatever you want to ask, right?” Said Gus gently, glancing at his friend,
Thomas started at being called out so abruptly, a flush creeping up the side of his neck and painting his ears a painful shade of red. He cleared his throat, but refused to look anywhere besides out the window.
“I was just reminded of something I’ve wondered about for a while is all,” he tried to deflect.
“Which is?” Prompted Gus, his stomaching tensing slightly.
“It’s…about what happened…when I went through the ice…Began Thomas slowly, uncertain. He cleared his throat, swallowed, then tried again. “I don’t really remember much of what happened. Just the ice breaking, and then going into the lake…but I could have sworn that I watched you and the truck go in too…” Thomas snuck a glance over at Gus, but then quickly looked away again.
“I never really thought about it before, was too happy to just still be alive I guess, but over the years…I couldn’t help but think about it. Even more when you left. I guess I’ve just been curious how we managed to get out of there in one piece.”
It took every ounce of willpower in his body for Gus to remain stoic. To not allow his panic to show on his face. He focused on the road, using the passing lane to get around a slow-moving tractor trailer as a distraction as he tried to come up with an answer.
“I was far enough ahead that the water was shallow,” he said after a while. “The truck went in, but it was only a couple of feet deep, barely even came up to the wheel wells. It wasn’t fun, but it was shallow enough for me to wade out to where you’d gone through the ice and pull you out.”
His grip subconsciously tightened on the wheel, and his jaw clenched and unclenched. It wasn’t a particularly good lie, and had it been anyone else, he might have been a bit concerned. But luckily, Thomas had never been much of an outdoorsman. He didn’t know that the drop off at Lake Paradise was twenty yards out, not two hundred. He didn’t know that, didn’t need. Thomas didn’t need to know that he’d been trapped at the bottom of the lake for nearly five minutes before Gus had gotten to him. Before Gus had dragged him, the toboggan, and the Bronco to the shore.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“You were only in the water for like…thirty seconds or something like that. But you’d passed out from the shock. Not uncommon all things considered.” That much was at least true.
Thomas nodded, seemingly satisfied. A heavy, uncomfortable silence fell over them, and Gus fidgeted in his seat. He fished around for anything to breach the discomfort of the moment.
“There was a pretty heavy police presence coming into town this morning,” he said finally, latching on to the first thing he could come up with. “Looked like something happened in town.”
Thomas sighed heavily, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I saw that,” he said, a pinched expression on his face. Gus frowned,
“You don’t look too surprised,” he noted carefully, “Something going on?”
“Sort of,” Thomas shrugged, “It’s just kind of sad. From what I head, it’s some rare strand of rabies running through. The wolves in particular have been hit hard, they’ve been going apeshit. Attacking people, running through campgrounds…this is the third person attacked this month. I’ve heard that the mayor is supposedly petitioning the governor to get Fish and Wildlife involved.”
“Jesus,” Gus muttered, “That’s…terrifying.”
“Yeah,” agreed Thomas, “We were told that as long as you didn’t stray too far out near the Big Lake, you’d be fine. The wolves don’t come poking around town, too many people or something. But I guess that was a load of crap.”
Gus nodded, but as he drove, a thought occurred to him. He looked at his friend out of the corner of his eye,
“There was a hell of a lot of cops involved for just an animal attack,” he mused. “Must have been half a dozen cars.”
Thomas shrugged, “Most excitement they’ve ever had in Honor.” He snorted, “Must be making ‘em feel reaaaaaaal important right about now. Sheriff Connolly must have been having a hell of time getting his fat ass through doorways, the way it’s been swelling lately.”
Gus chuckled, “Not a fan of the Sheriff?”
Thomas glowered, “Hardly. Bastard makes it a habit of going after the college kids for underage drinking. Why do something productive with your life, when you can potentially ruin some kid’s future with a minor in possession. Fucking hypocrite, acting like he doesn’t get blind drunk every weekend at Mallory’s and then driving back to the pointe.”
“Oooookay,” said Gus slowly, “We don’t like the Sheriff, got it.”
“You wouldn’t like him either if you’d spent undergrad running around trying to dodge getting put in a damn jail cell.”
Gus rolled his eyes, “You don’t go to jail for getting an MIP,”
“Maybe down south that’s how it worked,” snorted Thomas, “Not here.”
“I forgot that you went here for undergrad too,” said Gus, hoping to change the subject and cure Thomas’ foul mood. “What can I expect?”
Thomas shrugged. “Same as anywhere else I’d guess.” Gus stared at him, and Thomas rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Fine, how many gen-eds are you talking?”
“The hell is that?”
“You are an old ass man in a young man’s body, you know that right?”
Gus rolled his eyes, and elbowed Thomas over the center console. He yelped, rubbing at his shoulder.
“It stands for general education. Typical Liberal Arts crap. Probably all you’re going to be taking for your first two years.”
“Was that really so hard?”
“You are a violent man, and you should be ashamed of yourself.”
“And you’re a petulant man-child, whine about it some more, please.”
Thomas pouted, but lit up in excitement as they came around the next bend. “Here!” He said happily, pointing at an old single-story building tucked away into the woods. It looked comfortable enough, Gus supposed, in a rustic sort of way. It was an old wooden building, built of logs that likely came from trees not too far from where the building stood. An old, faded, luminescent sign reached high into the sky, reading “Maria’s Family Restaurant.”
Gus pulled into the parking lot, if the collection of loose gravel and dirt could be rightly be called such. Stepping out, a delightful smell assaulted him. The scent of fresh, homemade food. His stomach gurgled painfully, and he realized with a start how famished he truly was. He hadn’t truly eaten anything all day.
Gus had only just closed the door, when Thomas was racing towards the entrance. He was pawing at his small bun, meticulously quaffing it to make sure it was just right in the mirrored glass of the door to the restaurant. Amused, but too hungry to say anything, Gus opened the door and walked inside.
The interior was exactly as Gus had expected it to be. It was dark, the thick oak effectively blocking out much of the early evening sunset. The dim light of a couple of overhead lamps cast the room in slight shadows. Rustic log cabin met family diner in a clash of styles that shouldn’t have worked, but was oddly comfortable and inviting. The restaurant was one large room. Intimate, four-seat tables were spread about the center, while the walls were all lined with large, comfortable four-seater benches. The walls were adorned with paintings and pictures. Many were hand-drawn images of local wildlife, or paintings by local artists. Owls, wolves, and grizzly bears were all proudly represented. A roaring fire in an overly large hearth emanated heat from the rear of the room, taking up the majority of the space.
It was still relatively early, so there were only a handful of patrons. Some glanced up from their meals at the new arrivals, but barely spared them more than a passing, curious glance, before turning back to their meals and conversations. A small sign by the front table instructed guests to seat themselves. Gus was about to go towards a booth in the corner, when he was abruptly yanked in the opposite direction. Thomas had gripped him around the wrist of his jacket, and was in the process of dragging him towards a set of booths situated about halfway down the wall on the side of the room.
He threw himself into one side of the booth, and began tugging and pulling at his shirt. Gus watched the man in bewildered amusement for a couple of seconds, before sliding into the bench opposite. He made himself comfortable, leaning back into the bench and crossing his arms over his chest. He stared, bemused, for nearly a full minute as Thomas twitched anxiously in his seat.
Then, around the corner where the kitchen must have been hiding away, came a woman. She was a little thing, truth be told. Maybe a hair above five foot, and no more than a hundred pounds. She had long black hair pulled into a pair of twin tails that bounced to and fro as she all but skipped towards the table. She glanced at Gus, but quickly looked away, beaming wildly as she walked over to Thomas.
“Hey stranger,” she smiled, propping herself up against the side of the bench beside Thomas. Thomas grinned at her, it was a dopey expression, and Gus could have sworn that his eyes glazed over a little. Gus had to fight off a chuckle. When they had been in high school, Thomas had been far from the smoothest. Not like Gus was one to talk, to be fair, but it was still funny to see that not much had changed over the years.
He tuned out their not-so-subtle flirting and focused on the menu. He’d not eaten much all day, and his stomach ached with want. It took a couple of minutes of patiently waiting, before the woman, Dana judging by the name tag, finally seemed to remember that he was there. She took their orders, and with one final dazzling smile over her shoulder at Thomas, she disappeared back towards the kitchens.
“Well then,” laughed Gus, “at least now I can understand why you wanted to come here so badly.”
Thomas flushed crimson.
“When did this start?” Asked Gus, gesturing with his head in the direction of Dana.
Thomas cleared his throat, staring steadfastly down at the table. “Dunno,” he said into the table. “Just kinda happened I guess,”
“You ask her out yet?”
Thomas didn’t respond, Gus rolled his eyes in exasperation.
“Come on, man.” He groaned, “Ya’ll completely forgot I was even here. How much more of hint are you going to need that she’s into you?”
“It’s not that easy!” Snapped Thomas, finally looking up to glare at Gus. He held the heated gaze for a moment before collapsing into the bench. “Not all of us are lucky enough to be good-looking.”
Gus chose to ignore the jab. “And yet here you are, with a girl eye-fucking the shit out of you, and you’re not making a move. I get it, man. But seriously, sometimes you gotta take a chance. It’s not like she will, but the worst thing she can do is say no.”
Thomas didn’t respond, looking adamantly down at the ground and worrying at his lip. Gus decided not to press his luck anymore. He’d said his piece, and the rest would be up to Thomas.
They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, discomfort heavy in the air. Gus fidgeted, his foot tapping an uneven rhythm on the floor.
“So, tell me about your program,” he finally asked when he couldn’t take the silence any more. “What are you doing again?”
Thomas brightened, sitting up a little straighter in the bench. “It’s awesome!” He preened, “I’m working on this project right now that-” he dove headfirst into a complex explanation of his work. Gus didn’t understand a word of it, but Thomas was clearly excited, and his own excitement was infectious. Gus tried to say engaged, asking questions that he hoped weren’t too simple for the man.
Eventually, Dana returned with their food. Gus eyed Thomas meaningfully, but it was no use. The man’s eyes had already glazed over, and was all but drooling as he stared at the woman. Gus resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and focused on his food. The waft of the fried chicken tucked neatly into the tortilla wrap was divine, and he lost himself in gorging himself.
“You know,” Dana was saying, and Gus looked up, “I…get off work in a couple of hours. Me and some friends were going to go to The Alibi later, you wanna come? It would be a lot of fun.”
Gus stared at Thomas, and when he didn’t reply at first, Gus kicked him under the table. He flinched, breaking out of whatever stupor he’d been in, and nodded enthusiastically.
“Y-yeah!” He stammered, “I’d-I’d love to!”
Dana beamed, bouncing up and down causing her twin tails to dance slightly. “Awesome! I guess I’ll see you there, meet up outside around nine?”
“Yeah…” said Thomas dreamily, “That sounds…great.” Dana beamed at him, before dancing off to another table. Gus turned his attention back to Thomas, a wry smile on his face. He chose not to say anything, and let his friend simply bask in his excitement. The rest of the mean passed without much idle talk. Not that Gus was complaining, he was more engrossed in the food. But as he polished off the last of his fries and sat back in the bench, he felt the exhaustion wash over him.
His eyes flitted closed, and it took tremendous effort not to fall asleep then and there. After Dana had returned with the check, and exchanged another round of flirtations with Thomas, Gus stood up.
“All right,” he said, stretching, “I need to go to bed.”
“Not going to come out tonight?” Asked Thomas. Gus shook his head.
“I’m fucking exhausted. Only caught a couple of hours on the road, and I got more work to do in the morning.” He waved a dismissive hand at the man, “Go have fun.
Thomas beamed, and after making plans to meet up the following day, the parted ways.
There was an early autumn breeze and it felt good on his cheeks. He smiled. Good food, friends, and a new start.
Life was looking good.