Bounty(31)

Deke’s song.

“Wither to dust, crumble like rust, he’s the only thing in life that’s right,” she continued.

“I love that,” I said gently.

Suddenly, a startling amount of tears filled her eyes indicating she was a bit unhinged in her like of Justice Lonesome music, or indicating something else.

“Thank you for saying what I couldn’t say to him.” It came out in a garble before she took off running down the counter, disappearing behind a door to the back.

I watched her do this but looked back alertly, ready to take off if need be, when Shambles filled her spot at the cash register.

“Okay, all right, that was weird but I hope you stay because I gotta go after her and I really wanna make you a latte when I come back.” He started to move but turned back to me and shared on a hushed rush, his face twisted in a way that made my heart lurch, his next words explaining that look. “She was attacked. Hurt real bad. It messed her up. She didn’t treat me real good through it. Your music helped. Thank you.”

Then he took off.

I stood where I was, experiencing one of the many things that didn’t feel like quicksand about that life I’d left behind.

Experiencing something so beautiful, I could fiddle with the lyrics of a song forever, and not get it right.

Experiencing connecting with someone in a way so meaningful, it shared just how connected all we beings were through a variety of sources. Music. Books. Art. Movies.

The tragedy was, most didn’t recognize it and there were some of us with hate in their hearts about things they didn’t understand who would refuse to acknowledge it.

I let that glide through me before I chose a table, sat down, opened up my laptop and tapped in the password Shambles and Sunny had kindly tacked to the back of the counter under the menu.

Ten minutes later, they came back.

Sunny let me give her a hug.

Shambles made me the best latte I’d tasted in my life, which I used to wash down the best muffin I’d ever consumed.

I got to my email, though I didn’t answer any.

I was too busy gabbing with two totally awesome hippies.



* * * * *



Two hours later, I walked to the back deck, saw a finished railing and a Deke who was working on completing the edge of the rectangular fire pit.

He looked up at me as I moved through the door.

Then he looked down at the hefty white paper bag I had dangling from my fingertips.

After that, he looked to my other hand which had a huge bottle of chilled Fiji water.

I held out the bag to him when I got close.

“Roast beef and Swiss. I had them heat it up. French roll. Regular potato chips, Big Grab. If you tell me what flavors you like, next time, I’ll get saucy. Also in there are two of Shambles’s butterscotch cookies with chocolate chips.” I then offered the water. “This needs no explanation.”

“Woman, you don’t need to buy me food,” Deke rumbled, straightening to his full height which meant I had to tip my head back to look at him.

“Dude, you pass out from dehydration or malnutrition, no way in hell I can carry your carcass to my truck to race you to emergency. I couldn’t even drag it. You need sustenance.”

I jiggled the bag.

“I’m not gonna pass out,” he clipped.

“And I’m not gonna have someone at my house who eats bologna day in, day out. Yes, it’s yummy, but you need variety. So today, roast beef.”

I jiggled the bag again.

“Jus—”

“I have a deck,” I said softly. “It’s an awesome deck and I don’t give a fuck you’re being paid to give it to me. I love it and it means something to me to have it so take the damned sandwich, Deke. If you don’t wanna be nice, okay. But be cool enough to let me be nice because that’s who I am and that’s what I do and I’d really appreciate it if you’d let me.”

He studied me a long time before he finally reached out and took the bag and water, doing this with no words.

“Just sayin’, a non-frozen nose means more sandwiches next week,” I warned.

“If I told you you were a pain in the ass, would you report that to Max and get me fired?” he asked.

I felt my lips curve.

“No,” I answered.

“Then you’re a pain in my ass.”

“So noted. I’m still buying you sandwiches.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, bending to put the water on the stone and opening up the bag.

“Bon appetite!” I cried, still grinning, and I walked away.



* * * * *



I sat in my Adirondack chair, scrolling through stuff on my laptop the designer sent me that I’d downloaded at La-La Land that I’d go back to La-La Land to feedback on when I saw Deke come up the side steps.