01-04-2023, 02:29 AM
Piss-a-what? Jay laughed. It rattled something loose and he looked at the guy all the differently. He’d heard of it. Eating only fruit or something. Words that ended in -erian were like curses where he was from. “I think growing up the only thing I ate was meat,” he smirked. “Well. Meat and pie,” talking about food was making him hungrier. “I’ll show you a good cheeseburger one of these days, friend. It’s about time!” he chuckled and kept listening despite the hole gnawing at his gut. He’d almost forgotten the reason they were walking in the first place when he asked his next question.
“Are you close to your parents?”
The humor of the moment thinned. Fake. Like he deserved the punch to the gut for having the gall to laugh. Suppose there was only one thing left to do. Laugh and play to the fake.
“Not really,” he brought himself to say. Wasn’t a lie. Even growing up he wasn’t close to his folks. By the time he was 18, he was ready to get as far away from them as possible.
He was close to his sister. He remembered rocking her to sleep when she woke up middle of the night as a baby. Tiny. Like a football. But he couldn’t say it.
Luckily, the guy moved the conversation along. Like nothing was happening inside the head of his company. He probably wouldn’t be so casual if he knew he strolled side by side with a murderer. A failure. Could say the same of most people.
“Seven. Like the number,” he introduced himself.
Jay paused. Touched him on the arm and looked him up and down. That foreign accent sounded so proper.
“Your folks named you after a number? And you’re still close to them?” he laughed.
“Sorry mate. Is good. I won’t ask if you have a middle name though,” he added with a grin. All in good jest.
“My folks named me after my great-grandpa. Jason. He started the farm that our family had,” he nodded. Not sure why he said as much. Guess since they were on the topic. There were old home movie videos of Jason that Jay used to watch as a kid. He’d died before Jay was born, but he always thought his great-grandpa looked cool. Drove a kickass muscle car back in his day, too.
It was about that time that he noticed the windows of the buildings they walked past had changed from glass skyscrapers to framed storefronts. The business district was being left behind.
”Where we going anyway?”
“Are you close to your parents?”
The humor of the moment thinned. Fake. Like he deserved the punch to the gut for having the gall to laugh. Suppose there was only one thing left to do. Laugh and play to the fake.
“Not really,” he brought himself to say. Wasn’t a lie. Even growing up he wasn’t close to his folks. By the time he was 18, he was ready to get as far away from them as possible.
He was close to his sister. He remembered rocking her to sleep when she woke up middle of the night as a baby. Tiny. Like a football. But he couldn’t say it.
Luckily, the guy moved the conversation along. Like nothing was happening inside the head of his company. He probably wouldn’t be so casual if he knew he strolled side by side with a murderer. A failure. Could say the same of most people.
“Seven. Like the number,” he introduced himself.
Jay paused. Touched him on the arm and looked him up and down. That foreign accent sounded so proper.
“Your folks named you after a number? And you’re still close to them?” he laughed.
“Sorry mate. Is good. I won’t ask if you have a middle name though,” he added with a grin. All in good jest.
“My folks named me after my great-grandpa. Jason. He started the farm that our family had,” he nodded. Not sure why he said as much. Guess since they were on the topic. There were old home movie videos of Jason that Jay used to watch as a kid. He’d died before Jay was born, but he always thought his great-grandpa looked cool. Drove a kickass muscle car back in his day, too.
It was about that time that he noticed the windows of the buildings they walked past had changed from glass skyscrapers to framed storefronts. The business district was being left behind.
”Where we going anyway?”
Only darkness shows you the light.