There were multiple rumors swirling over what might have happened to Devlin Stone. One theory suggested that I had secretly become a Scientologist and was hidden by the higher-ups. That was a good one and made me laugh. Another theory was that I had gone back home to where I had grown up in Maine. My favorite, though, was that I was having a secret affair with an older woman who, just last year, had been rumored to be sleeping with me (she had not).
There were a few shots of reporters trying to get a statement from Aubrey, as she had been the last person of note to see me. They showed footage of us on the red carpet, including the juicy kiss. More recent footage of Aubrey had her giving reporters the bird as they shoved cameras in her face and asked her if she knew where I was. Aubrey looked sad and, I hate to admit it, betrayed. I felt bad for leaving her high and dry.
I cut the television off and looked at the blank screen for a moment. Seeing Aubrey in such a state was the first time I had legitimately felt bad about my decision to abandon the Hollywood ship. She was a sweet girl and didn’t deserve to be treated like that. I wondered if I should call her but I ignored the urge as soon as it was recognized. What a shit storm that would be.
Instead, I threw on my coat and boots and stepped outside. It was a typical Sitka day; fat and beautiful puffy clouds rolled by while the sun beamed down enough to make things look bright but not enough to make things feel warm. The thermometer read 52 degrees. My cabin looked down a hill that was dotted along its right side with four similar cabins. At the bottom of the hill, one of the few main roads wound out into a small valley. I could barely see the outskirts of town from my porch. Towering snow-peaked fjords bordered it all to the right. I took in a crisp breath of fresh air and sighed. The natural majesty surrounding me made me feel like I was practically stealing the cabin at the great rate I had secured.
I hadn’t yet purchased a car. It felt like a risky purchase to make, seeing as how I wasn’t yet certain how I was going to get my hands on my money. What I had done was dropped one hundred bucks on a used mountain bike. I spent an afternoon keeping my physique in check and so far, during my five week stint in Sitka, riding the bike was the only form of exercise I was doing. It was a welcome change from the workout regimens my movie roles usually required.
The bike was a great way to enjoy the scenery and just slow down. I think that if I had a car, I wouldn’t have appreciated Sitka quite as much. Sure, it made grocery shopping a pain (I had to pay a teenage kid ten dollars to deliver my purchases to my cabin), but it was worth it.
I hopped on the bicycle and pedaled out of the yard. I stuck to the side of the unmarked road that led to my cabin, coasting slowly down the hill towards town. I still wasn’t used to the goatee or the shaggy hair, so it still made me want to smile as all of the hair tickled my face when it ruffled in the breeze.
I made my way down to the main stretch of road that lead into Sitka. I wasn’t exactly sure where I was going. I just needed to get out and didn’t have the mental capacity at the moment to trust myself on one of my long reflective hikes out into the wilderness. By the time town crept into view, I thought that I’d maybe ride Tanner’s Fresh Fish down next to the pier to get something for dinner. Maybe I’d swing by a Red Box and see if there were any good movies I hadn’t seen yet. Anything to occupy my mind.
My attention was momentarily taken from my vision of king crab for dinner when I saw a quaint display in the window of a business I had passed several times but had not yet stepped foot into. The display featured a new type of hiking boot that, I hate to admit it, made me want a pair. It was surrounded by