Page 2 of Harmony Island Gazette
A woman who looked no older than twenty was sitting behind the registers, snapping her gum and staring at her phone. When the bells on the door jingled, she glanced up at me from over her glasses.
“How can I help you?” she asked as she rested her hands on the counter in front of her but didn’t let go of her phone.
“I’m here to pick up my truck.” I pulled my wallet from my back pocket and fished out the ticket they’d given me when I’d left it.
She sighed as she set her phone down and took the ticket from me. She typed a few things into the computer in front of her and then nodded as she turned to the small cabinet that held a bunch of keys on hooks. “Wait out front, and I’ll bring it around. Johnny was working on it earlier this week. It should be good to go.”
I was so grateful when I found this place. Not only did they store vehicles, they did regular checks to make sure fluids didn’t go bad and that the truck would still start.
“Thanks,” I said as I tapped the counter.
She murmured a quick, “uh huh,” as she disappeared through the back door.
I made my way back to the front. I took a deep breath of the evening air and tipped my face up. The sun was now tucked behind the trees, and darkness was slowly creeping around me. I knew once I got into my truck I would feel better. I would feel more like me than I had in a while.
The familiar sight of my black truck rounding the corner of the building brought a smile to my lips. She looked good. Johnny had kept his promise to keep her in pristine condition. Johnny gave me the cursory finger raise from the steering wheel as he pulled up next to me. I waited while he pulled open the driver’s door and hopped down.
“Hey, man,” he said. He was tall with a deep, gravelly voice, and he wore a trucker hat. His hands were stained, no doubt from car fluids.
“Thanks for taking care of her,” I said as I shook his extended hand.
“My pleasure.” He stepped to the side so I could get a full view of the inside of my truck.
“Candice will settle your account.”
“Perfect.” I swung my bag into the back of the cab. Then I climbed into my truck. I pulled the door closed, but Johnny looked like he wanted to say something, so I rolled the window down.
He tapped the door with his hand and smiled up at me. “Thanks for your service.”
My throat tightened, and my smile faded. I knew he meant well, but I wasn’t sure if I was going to survive civilian life if this was what I was going to face every time I got around people. “Sure,” I said before I put my truck into drive and rolled forward.
I didn’t look back as I pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway. I kept the window down, enjoying the cold night air rushing around me as I raced down the road. I leaned forward and flipped on the radio, blaring a country station.
I didn’t stop until I crossed the state line into North Carolina. I had a few more hours until I got to Harmony, so I stopped at a gas station. I filled up on gas, used the bathroom, and grabbed an energy drink to help keep me awake.
It was eleven before I pulled into the outskirts of Harmony Island. It felt both familiar and foreign at the same time. I had some memories of this place, but not enough to feel nostalgic. If anything, this place represented a time in my life that I wanted to forget.
I pulled down a side street and idled as I got out my phone and found the email from Harmony City Hall. I could picture my mother’s home, but I couldn’t remember how to get there. I punched her address into my map app and waited for the familiar computer voice to tell me where to go.
Ten minutes later, I was sitting in front of her house in the small community complex of Harmony Cove. Mom’s house was small compared to the others around it. The grass was long and danced in the night breeze. The windows were dark, and I felt stupid for wanting a light to go on. A sign of life that I knew was no longer there.
I dropped my gaze to my lap and cursed under my breath. I was weak. And weakness was what put me in this situation in the first place. If only I’d been stronger, she might still be here.
Guilt and anger rose up inside of me. I gripped the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles turned white. No longer able to sit in front of the physical representation of all my failures, I threw my truck into drive and sped away.
I needed a drink.
Harmony Pub came up when I searched local bars while I waited for the light to turn green. It only took seven minutes before I was pulling into a vacant spot near the back of the parking lot. I turned my truck engine off and pulled the keys from the ignition before yanking open my door and climbing out.
The gravel crunched under my feet as I made my way to the front door. Harmony Pub was buzzing with conversation, the jukebox in the corner, and a friendly game of darts happening in the back.
I pulled my hat down to cover my face as I approached the bar. I doubted that anyone would recognize me. My mother kept to herself when she lived here, and I was back and forth so much that I hadn’t made any concrete relationships. All I wanted to do tonight was drink—not engage in awkward small talk.
I found a barstool in the corner and settled down. The bartender caught my gaze and raised his eyebrows while he filled a glass.
“Whiskey,” I said, and he nodded in acknowledgement.
I set my phone face down on the bar and settled back in my seat. I wasn’t sure where I was going to spend the night. If I had to, I’d stay the night in the bed of my truck. God knows, I’d slept in worse places.
