Page 14 of Goodbye Paradise
Right. In April my plan might work. Or in August. But not November. It would snow here any day now.
We walked in silence for awhile, just trying on the idea of how bad things were. “I’m sorry,” I said eventually.
Caleb stopped. “No, okay? You have nothing to be sorry for.I’msorry.”
“Why?”
“I just am. Leaving was always the plan, but I wasn’t ready, and I should have been.”
“It wasalwaysthe plan? How long was always?”
“I dunno. A nice long time. I knew we had to go eventually.”
“The two of us,” I said, still not quite sure I believed him.
“Yes, Joshy, I always wanted to leave. With you.”
“Why?”
Caleb groaned. “For a smart guy, you’re kind of an idiot. I’ll show you later. Right now, we need some kind soul to pick us up. Try to look safe and friendly.”
“Iamsafe and friendly.”
He turned to me with a chuckle, and then squeezed my arm. “Iknowthat. But other people don’t. So, smile!”
* * *
For hours, nobody picked us up. Caleb put his thumb in the air a million times. “You try it for a bit,” he said. “You’re better looking, anyway.”
“Or at least less intimidating,” I suggested. Nobody was better looking than Caleb, with his sparkling eyes and sculpted cheek bones.
The funny thing was, only five minutes passed before a pickup rumbled to a stop beside us. The passenger window lowered, and an old woman’s face looked out. “It wouldn’t be too comfortable, but you could ride in the truck bed if you want. We’re heading to Cheyenne.”
“Thank you so much,” Caleb said immediately. “My brother and I are in a bit of a bind.”
My brother and I. The thoughts I had about Caleb weren’t exactly brotherly. But I still liked hearing it. He’d claimed me, when others had not.
She got down out of the cab slowly, while her elderly husband gave us a squinty-eyed inspection. “Come on, then,” she said.
Their truck had a shell on it. So she popped that open, and Caleb lowered the tailgate. We climbed in, and the woman hefted the gate and closed us in. There were rakes and shovels lining one side of the truck, so we sat on the other, our backs to the side.
“Well,” Caleb said. “This was either a lucky break, or they’re cannibals who are planning a barbecue right now.”
I laughed, but my head was feeling woozy. With a groan, I tipped my head back against the side. “I still feel off,” I said.
Caleb put a hand on my knee. “I’ll bet you do. We’ll get you some real food in Cheyenne. That will help.”
The truck began to move, and I concentrated on the warmth of Caleb’s hand, which miraculously was still on my leg. I drifted, waking frequently when the motion of the truck moved my body. My head was too heavy. There was no place I could rest it where it wouldn’t bounce around and wake me up.
“Relax,” Caleb whispered. He took my head in his hands, pinning it to the center of his chest with one hand.
That felt insanely good. And I was too sleepy to care that it wasn’t really the way two friends were supposed to sit beside one another. I fell into a satisfying slumber.
* * *
“Wake up, baby,” someone said, rubbing my head with a big hand.
No thank you.
