Chapter 1
It was in the middle of the afternoon. The bus was empty, except for one fella in the back, looking through the window. His luggage, a washed-brown suitcase, was sitting next to him, and he was holding his briefcase firmly on his knees, a little nervous. The landscape was dull and redundant, reflecting on his glasses. His head was moving left to right to the rhythm of the vehicle.
When the bus came to a stop, the man stayed frozen in his seat, unsure of what to do next.
“You getting out or what?” The driver droned, looking back at him through the mirror.
“Yes, sorry. Good day.” He stood up, and with an apologetic nod, pushed the door button and got out.
The bus drove away, leaving him in the middle of… nowhere. On the left, the road was cutting through a desert of rocks like a knife. On the right, exactly the same thing. In the middle, looking at the man, was standing a small dusty town, with small dusty houses and small dusty shops. And right in front of the bus stop stood something that looked like a closed booth, under a neon sign saying MOTEL.
He walked up to the counter and knocked on the small dusty window.
“Can I help you with something?” The lady behind the glass scowled, glancing up at the man.
He smiled politely. “Sorry to bother you, but I’m searching for someone… a friend of mine, actually.” He attempted.
The lady kept looking at him without saying a word, her lips still curled with a sneer.
“He’s about 5ft9, brown hair, big smile.” he continued, “He came here about four years ago to start his life over. Hates raw fish. Really likes Sting for some god forsaken reason. Is any of this ringing a bell?” He looked at her eagerly.
She sighed.”Does this fella have a name?”
“Oh, yes, sorry.” He flushed, “He would go by the name of uh… Lawrence.”
“Lawrence, uh?
She stared at him with scepticism for a few more seconds, but took out her phone and put it to her ear. Without breaking eye contact, the lady started talking, “Hey, Jimmy. Can you do something for me? ... Could you get Lawrence and bring him to the motel? ... No, I don’t care if you’re doing something, go get him!” She put her hand over the phone and asked the man, “Do you have a name?”
“Lewis. But, if you don’t mind, I’d like my presence to be a surprise. If that’s all right by you…”
No answer, just a stare full of inquiry. She went back to the phone, “Just tell him I need him. Is that too much to ask? Jeez. … Alright, thanks. … Bye.” She turned to the man.
“Would you like to book a room? We have three empty.”
“Out of how many?”
“Three.”
“Uh, sure, I’ll book a room for tonight.”
“Planning on staying longer?”
“I don’t know yet,” He paused, “Listen, I’ll sit down if that’s alright with you.”
Without waiting for her consent, Lewis sat on the front porch, feet facing the road. He looked at the desert stretching to the horizon.
Lawrence was in his garage, sitting on an upside down table, eyes closed. The warm glow of the afternoon sun was caressing his face, its light drawing shadows on the brick wall . He had spent the afternoon there, trying to fix one of the legs of his kitchen table, with little success. His wife told him they could buy a new one, but he said “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” Of course, that was easier said than done. It took about 12 nails, a few screws, some wood glue and a hand saw for Lawrence to realise he knew nothing about carpentry. He had just given up trying to find his hammer when a kid came in, out of breath.
“Hey Lawrence, sorry to bother you.”
“Not at all, kid! Are you alright? Your dad need something?”
“No, he sent me to get you. Alia needs you for something at the motel.”
Lawrence frowned. “Is she ok?”
“He didn’t tell, but it seemed kinda important.”
“Alright, I’ll see what’s up. Thanks kid. Say hi to you mom for me.”
The man painfully got on his feet and took his coat, then left. The kid waited a few seconds and opened a fridge in the corner, taking out a coke.
When he arrived to the front porch, Alia was scrolling through her phone, while a man was sitting on the stairs. Lawrence looked at him, his hand instinctively reaching for something in his coat. Realizing his own motion, he stopped himself. The man was wearing a burnt orange turtleneck and a black suit. His round glasses were reflecting the light of the afternoon, making it impossible to read his eyes.
The man, on the other hand, was reading Lawrence quite well. He looked just like before, only a little bit older, and a little bit confused. He saw in his eyes the moment confusion turned into disbelief, then disbelief turned into astonishment and utter happiness.
Lawrence walked up to him, a smile plastered on his face, and stopped a few feet before Lewis, who got up.
“Hi Lawrence, how are you?”
“Zed? It’s really you, isn’t it? I can’t believe it. You really came!” He caught Lewis in a bear hug, almost lifting him from the ground. Holding him at arm’s-length, Lawrence took another good look at his friend.
“How did you know I was here? I mean, it’s not like we’ve had a correspondence in the last few years.” Lewis smiled, and produced a letter from his pocket, holding it between them.
“Got your letter.”
“My letter? I sent that thing almost four years ago!”
Lewis smiled, amused. “Well, you know, it’s hard to check your mail when you’re out of the country. I actually got back last week.”
“You mean… you went through with your crazy idea? You did it? It’s over?”
“Yes, it’s over. I did it.”
“Oh my Lord, Zed! I can’t believe it! You got to tell me all about this. Hey, come sleep at the house. I’ll present to you the wife.”
“The wife? You’re fast! Was four years really all it took for you to replace me?” Lewis said with a smirk. “And I already booked a room at your motel.”
“Nonsense! I won’t let a friend of mine sleep in that place! Come on!
And with that been said, Lawrence took the luggage and led the way.