I lost myself in the scene, draining my mug and going in for another. I killed another hour or two sorting through my boxes, and when it came time to meet Hugh, I grabbed my wallet, stepped into my boots, and headed out.
The drive into town was down a weaving, unpaved road. It took about thirty minutes to get into the city, if you could even call Silver Pines that. The downtown was a small crisscross of streets lined with small businesses, not a chain restaurant or big box to be found. And I liked it.
I spotted the Red Kettle, the diner on the corner of the main road near the park, the interior busy with customers, waitresses in blue and white outfits zipping here and there. I parked, climbed out of my trunk, and went in.
The moment I stepped over the threshold, the door chime sounding out as my big boots touched the floor, every pair of eyes was on me, the din of conversation fading to a silence. Like everywhere else in town, the place was done up in black-and-orange Halloween décor. Otherwise, it looked like every small town café in America.
“Good morning,” the hostess, a young woman likely not out of her teens, said. “Table for o—”
I spotted Hugh over her shoulder, seated at a booth in the corner. Not waiting for the girl to finish, I strode past. She stopped mid-sentence, her wide eyes on me as I moved toward my only friend.
Hugh, like me, was tall and built. But unlike me, he didn’t look like he hadn’t seen civilization for years. He was clean-shaven, his dirty-blond hair slicked back in a neat part. He wore trim, dark slacks and a white button-up pressed and tucked. His shoes were polished and clean.
We looked like total opposites, two men who’d taken very, very different paths in life. But it was necessary for him – he had to look the part of professional small business owner.
“There’s the big man,” he said, getting up.
“Sit,” I said. “I don’t need any more attention on me.”
I turned, noting that nearly everyone was still staring. I flicked my eyes from one person to another, my gaze narrowed. The moment I made eye contact with someone, they’d glance back down at their food sheepishly.
He sat, and I did too. We were both huge and muscular, our bodies barely fitting in the booths.
“I see you’re already making an impression,” he said, amused.
I scoffed. “Last thing I want. Still think we should’ve met at my place.”
A small smirk formed on his lips. “Why, so we could have some coffee, maybe split the jar of mayonnaise in your fridge?”
I wasn’t laughing.
“Come on, bud,” he said, reaching across the table and giving my arm a swat. “Lighten up. It’s good to see you.”
I could still feel eyes on me, and I didn’t care for it. “What’s up?” I asked. “And why were you so insistent on meeting in public?”
Before he could answer, the waitress arrived. “Hi, gents.”
“Coffee,” I said, not looking up at her. “And that’s it.”
“Coffee for me, too,” Hugh said, glancing up. “And two turkey clubs please.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Then get it to go,” he said. “Let me treat.”
I knew Hugh well, so I didn’t bother arguing with him. He was as stubborn as I was. I grunted, and the waitress wandered away without a word.
“What’s your plan, Hunt?” he asked. “Eat tree sap up there or something?”
The cafe was packed, and I was starting to feel ill at ease. I shrugged my big shoulders and answered, “I’ll get supplies when I need them. Maybe a drink at the bar every now and then. But I went for a beer last night and people couldn’t stop staring. And some woman was chatting my ear off.”
“That’s what people do in a town like this,” he said. “I know you moved here to be alone, but in places like Silver Pines people know each other, mind one another’s business. And they talk.”
The waitress brought the coffee, and I wrapped my hand around the mug, waiting for Hugh to go on.
“I stopped by the general store before coming here to grab some gear for the trip, and guess what the clerk was talking about with a couple of customers?” He sat back and squared his shoulders.
“Something tells me I don’t need to guess.”
“There’s still a brain under all that hair,” he said with a grin. “And yeah, you don’t. They were talking about the new guy in town, the guy built like one of the mountains around here, as unfriendly as they come.”
“They can talk all they want. I don’t give a shit – I’m not here to make friends.”
“Yeah, you don’t need to tell me twice. But that’s what I wanted to talk to you about – fitting in.”
“Fitting in?” I repeated, clenching my jaw. “Why the hell would you think I’m interested in something like that?”
“It doesn’t matter if you’re interested in something like that. People in this town are going to talk about you no matter how much you don’t want to admit it. Unless you’re planning on living in a cave, hunting deer or some shit, you need to make at least some inroads with these people.”
I scowled, knowing he was right.
He raised his palms. “Now, I’m not saying you need to be the belle of the fucking ball, here. But just put in enough effort so people don’t have to worry about you murdering them in their sleep, you know?”
He had a point. If I were a totally unknown element, I’d be more of interest to the townsfolk, ironically. I had to dispel the mystery around me, at least a little.
“You got some ideas?” I asked, my voice gruff.
He nodded. “Sure do.” He took out his phone and flipped through the pictures. One of them was of a mechanic’s shop. I could tell by the firs in the background that it was a local joint. “This is Sam’s autobody. It’s just down the road, and there’s a sign in the window saying they’re hiring.”
“You want me to get a job?” I asked, a little surprised.
“What’s so strange about that?”
“Because I don’t want to talk to people,” I told him. “I don’t want to be around them. That was the whole damn point of coming here.”
“I know, I know. But all you need to do is pick up a couple shifts a week, and you go from scary-ass potential murderer in the woods to Hunter down at the autobody place. It’s basic psychology – you’ll be known as a useful person, a guy who helped fix Mrs. Henderson’s Subaru or whatever. Not to mention it’s a behind-the-scenes job. You won’t need to be social.”
I sighed, shaking my head and looking away. I watched the low wind set the tops of the firs in the distance to waving.
“You’ll make some extra cash, too.”
“I don’t need cash,” I said. “I’ve got that squared away.”
“Fine, fine. But it’ll give you something else – a purpose.” He continued when I frowned. “Hunt, I know why you’re here, and I get it. I do. But you can’t just hole up in that cabin and waste away. You’ll become someone different.”
“Maybe that’s what I want.”
“Maybe it is, after what you went through. But even if you’re dead set on this whole loner thing, then this is the best way to do it. And I know you’re a whiz with machines – always have been. You can’t tell me this doesn’t have some appeal.”