shop, Artie came out the back door. He was holding a bag of garbage that looked only half full.
“Hey, boss,” CJ said.
“How are you, son?” Artie asked.
“It’s been a long day.”
“Yeah, I heard.” At CJ’s surprised look, he added, “We have the Internet here too, you know.”
Thor had finished what was on his mind and had made his way back to the men.
“He was out about an hour ago,” Artie said.
“Thanks for watching him for me.”
“Not a problem.” Then, seeing CJ eyeing the garbage bag he still held, Artie shrugged and walked it over to the trash can and dropped it in. When he returned, he bent down and started to scratch Thor behind the ears. “What was it about?”
CJ didn’t have to ask what Artie meant. He considered brushing the question off, but then decided against it. He didn’t mind telling Artie. So he did, and he liked that Artie smiled at all the parts he should have smiled at. And Thoreau liked that Artie kept petting him while CJ talked. In fact, the only drawback to having told the tale was when Artie tried to stand, only to find that his knees had locked. CJ rushed over to help, and between the two of them, they were able to get Artie at least reasonably straight. CJ led his boss inside, with Artie complaining about CJ babying him until CJ was able to deposit him on the stool by the cash register.
Thor had followed them in, and he walked over to sniff Cadbury for the umpteenth time.
“Your dog is obsessed with my scarecrow,” Artie remarked.
“At least he doesn’t talk to it.”
“But Cadbury gives great advice. In fact, every time I’ve been tempted to break into a home to steal my own belongings, he’s talked me out of it.”
That pulled a laugh from CJ, despite how his afternoon had turned out.
“Okay, maybe I should consult with him the next time I’m tempted to do something stupid.”
“You could do worse.”
Satisfied that Artie wasn’t going to tumble from the stool, CJ walked around to the other side of the counter and surveyed the store.
“How’s business been today?” he asked.
“Alright this morning, but we probably won’t see anything the rest of the afternoon.”
CJ turned back to his boss. “Why’s that?”
“The football game.”
CJ mouthed an oh. He’d heard some of the guys at Maggie’s talking about the game this morning.
“I haven’t seen a high school football game since I moved away.”
“You should go. It’s a lot of fun.” Artie looked around at the empty store. “It’s not like I need any help around here.”
It seemed like a good idea to CJ. A little fresh air after the long drive back from Albany, and a chance for him to clear his head a bit.
He went back upstairs to get Thor’s leash, then loaded the Lab into the car and set off for the high school. It was one of the places he hadn’t visited since returning, and it had nothing to do with his experiences there—which were mostly positive—but to the fact that it was on a side of town to which he didn’t often have reason to go.
CJ had tried his hand at football his freshman year, except his heart hadn’t been in it. He’d played safety, and he could still remember a few good hits he’d laid on unsuspecting receivers. But at the end of the day, football just hadn’t been in his blood. That was the way it had been with baseball too, only he was a lot better at baseball, and it took him a lot longer—and a college scholarship—to realize that wasn’t in his blood either.
He drove down Reist Avenue, the window down for the dog, crossing over the creek that meandered south for ten miles before widening and emptying into the Onochooie. On his right, spreading out from the creek in both directions, stood thick clusters of trees that made this part of town seem more rural than it really was. As he drove away from the water and the tree line began to thin, he rounded a bend and saw Adelia High. And he came near to driving the Honda off the road.
The enormous, modern campus that appeared before him bore no similarities to the old, painfully small, idiosyncratic building he remembered. That structure was gone, and this single-level brown-brick monster had been put up in its place. CJ wondered about the money involved in something like this, and if the Franklin County prisons were responsible for the