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making a point...
7:20 a.m.., Tuesday, May. 01, 2007
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The fire crackles softly, heating the air. The two men move closer, their hands upraised, seeking to capture the warmth. The first one, Chad, turns to his companion, Nicholas, and says, "...it's not like you have to give every detail."
Nicholas nods solemnly, but his eyes betray him.
"When I was a boy," Chad says, making sure he's got eye contact. "We lived on this big farm, out in the country."
Once again, Nicholas nods. He remembers. His eyes glaze over, just a bit.
"Remember?" Chad asks him, his voice hoarse, but clear.
Nicholas nods again, this time his mind is unambiguous.
"And you remember, Uncle Bernie, of course..." Chad's voice has grown low.
Nicholas eyes his companion. They have been out on the road for far too long. He knows, when angry, his eyes grow dark. He suspects his friend sees this now. "Uncle Bernie," he murmurs, knowing Chad will not hear.
"...and Brutus?"
Nicholas nods again. Images of the dog from so long ago cover the backs of his eyelids. "He was a good dog."
"The finest," Chad agrees, "never was there a nobler breed." He watches his friend closely. The man has an adam's apple the size of a grapefruit. When he swallows hard, Chad can hear it.
There is a moment of silence between the two men. Time, swishing up and out of the shadows strikes hard at the ground beneath them.
"...and whenever Uncle Bernie came to visit?" Chad whispers.
Nicholas lets go of the breath he's been holding, but doesn't answer.
"That dog... he would hide, remember? When we'd find him, his tail would be so far up his ass, it would take a week to calm him down."
Nicholas clenches his teeth. Too many words with Chad, can only lead to trouble. "Yes, he did," was all he volunteers.
Chad leans back, shifting his weight so that he is propped up by the log behind them. "My point then?"
"Yes," Nicholas admits. I do see your point. Sometimes, all you need is the reaction of another."
"Exactly," Chad agrees. He holds out his hand, palm sideways, a gesture of relief.
Nicholas extends his own. The two men shake hands.
"Perhaps, my friend," Nicholas says, his voice strong, his eyes twinkling. "Perhaps one day you will quit riding the trains, and write that novel, hmmm?"
This time, it is Chad's turn to nod. Perhaps one day he will.