Page 8 of Far From Sherwood Forest
John is just getting out of the shower when I get to the bunkhouse. It’s a small one with half a dozen beds and one bathroom and a small kitchen area. John and I are technically the only ones currently living here, so it’s plenty of space for us. There are a couple of guys who stay during the spring and summer, and there’s another who only crashes here when he works late or his boyfriend is out of town and he doesn’t want to be alone.
There have been a lot of things I’ve had to get used to in this world, and that was just one of them. But with adjusting to all the new and scary things, sharing sleeping quarters with a gay man was the least of my concerns. Honestly, it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Even with the place and time I come from, I’vealways believed in the freedom of being who you are.
Plus, Spencer’s a good guy. His boyfriend Brian works at the nearby state park, and John and I volunteer over there, sometimes doing wildlife tours with Spencer. I’ve been to one of the big cities in this world exactly once, and you couldn’t pay me to go back. I don’t mind the small town that’s a few miles away, but I’ll always prefer the peace and quiet of nature.
After I get a shower and dress in clean jeans and a white t-shirt under a dark gray jacket, I meet John outside on the deck. He’s sitting on one of the two wooden benches with his phone in his hand, looking like a giant lumberjack in plaid, and I can’t help but grin.
Last weekend, he met a woman at the bar in town that we frequent, and they’ve been texting ever since. Before that, he spent more time cursing at the small electronic device than he did actually using it.
Neither one of us have had any kind of romantic relationship since we’ve been here, though I know John’s hooked up at least a couple of times. I’m glad to see that he might actually be ready for something real, that he could be happy.
Not that I’munhappy. This life isn’t a bad one. I miss Marian everyday, of course, but the grief has eased.
I’ve heard the saying that time heals all wounds, but it hasn’t healed. I’m just able to keep it from bleeding most days.
Thinking of that time as an entirely other life helps.
“Ready to head out, lover boy?” I ask as I head down the steps.
“What? Oh.” John finishes up a text, not leaving the bench until I’m already at the truck. He slides into the passenger seat while I get behind the wheel and says, “Bethany’s going to meet us at the bar if that’s okay.”
“Sure,” I tell him as I turn the key in the ignition.
“She said she’s bringing a friend.” He jerks his bushy browsat me.
I laugh and shake my head as I pull out of the ranch and onto the county road that leads into town. “Does she own a crystal business too? Because if she tries to convince me to buy a rock for emotional stability or slips one in my pocket to make me fall in love with her…”
The screen of his phone is off, but he holds onto it in his lap as he chuckles. “Hey, we’re the last two who should doubt the mystical properties of nature.”
“Fair point.”
We don’t talk about whatever—orwhoever—it was that brought us here much, not since we decided we have no idea what or who it was and probably never will.
“But, seriously,” he says. “Maybe you should talk to her. See if you like her.”
“I will.”
“Really?” Even though it was his idea, he sounds surprised.
I shrug. “I haven’t sworn off women, John. I just haven’t met anyone who interests me.”
“Maybe that’ll change.”
“Maybe.”
But I doubt it.
As we get into town, I head to the only grocery store, a small one that gets all the town’s business. John’s phone lights up for the fourth time during the trip as I pull into a spot.
“I was just going to run in to pick up those few things we need,” I tell him. “I’m guessing you’re staying in the truck?”
He’s smiling, but it’s not at anything I just said, his focus solely on his phone.
“Good talk,” I say with a smirk when he says nothing.
“What?” He looks up as I open my door, peering around as though he’s just realized where we are. “Oh, yeah. I’ll wait here.”
I shake my head with exaggerated disappointment. “Andjust like that, I’ve lost my best mate.”
