Jace steps back from his work and nods. He’s done. He puts the brush in the paint can that’s sitting on the stepladder next to him and reaches over to hit the switch that opens the garage door. Cold, damp air wafts in; it’ll dry the paint within a few minutes.
The house door bangs open.
“That mean you’re finished?” asks Becky. “Yer mom wants us to run to the market to pick up some stuff. Says she needs it before she starts dinner.”
“Yeah, I’m done, you wanna see it?”
“Sure, I guess.” Becky tramps down the slush-covered steps and makes her way around to the yawning front of the garage.
Jace points his chin at the front of the van as he drags the stepladder off to the side, out of the way of the passenger side door. “Whaddaya think?”
“Kinda reminds me of Micky Mouse,” Becky says. “But, like, mean, instead of cute?”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.”
“You happy with it?”
Jace shrugs. “Don’t think I can do any better.”
“But, like, is it what you were imagining?”
“Kind of.” Another shrug, unbothered.
“Jace, I’m not sayin’ it’s bad, I like it, but if you wanna get better, I bet you could take a class at the high school r somethin’. They probly got em this winter break.”
“It’s alright. I’m happy with it.”
“Mkay.” Becky hopes it doesn’t look like she’s forcing a smile.
Jace opens the sliding door and lurches onto the middle bench seat, his feet hanging out. “Paint needs a minute to dry. What’s Mom want from the market?”
“Yer outta milk,” says Becky, climbing into shotgun and fishing a pack of smokes out of the center console. “Dish soap. Nine volt batteries.” She pulls a crumpled list out of her pocket. “Right. Graham crackers an lotto numbers.”
“Oh, so just up to Driscoll’s. Was thinkin’ we’d have to go into town. That’s better, Jackson’s working today.”
Becky clears her throat as she hands him a cigarette. “You talked to him about pickin’ up a few hours there?”
“Yeah, they don’t need more help. I think I can get some at the garage, though. Doin’ some detailing.” Jace lights up and passes Becky the lighter. “I’ll call them tomorrow.”
“Mkay,” Becky says doubtfully.
When they’ve smoked their cigarettes down to the filter, they flick the butts into the driveway. Jace pulls his feet into the van and rolls the tired old door shut, then squeezes into the driver’s seat.
Wet snow sits heavy on the bare branches that hang over the dirt road. Jace’s van jolts hard around the turns, skidding over ice every few hundred feet before finding purchase on the gravel again, and causing Becky to grab the handle over the door.
“Yer not a rally driver,” she says, trying to lean into a turn to minimize the stomach-wrenching effects of her boyfriend’s enthusiasm.
“Not yet,” he says with a laugh. “Maybe when I get my GED, though!”
“I’m not helping you study, especially if you keep drivin’ like this!” Her threat is valid but so is her smile.
“I don’t need yer help!”
Driscoll’s is only about five minutes up the hill. The only other car in the small parking area is Jackson’s; he’s sitting on the counter, watching a monster truck match on the little television that hangs precariously off the top of one of the store shelves.
“Hey, kiddos,” he says when Jace pulls open the metal-framed glass door.
Jace and Becky exchange gossip with him as they wind through the five-aisle store, checking items off Jace’s mom’s list. They’re bringing it all up to the counter when the door chimes and opens again, and they all look over.
Jace’s face lights up. “Hey, Ben!” Then he sees his friend’s face. “You okay?”
Ben’s eyes are hollow, like he’s just seen a ghost. He shakes his head. “Saw yer van here.”
“What happened?” Becky asks, taking half a step around Jace to get a better look at Ben. “You go off the road or somethin’?”
“Saw a deer.” He wanders down the nearest aisle, past the refrigerator.
Jackson and Jace exchange a glance.
“A deer?” Jackson says, a smile cracking on his face. “Buddy, we all seen deer every day.”
Ben shakes his head again as he rounds the aisle and walks back toward them.
Jace tilts his head. “Dude, did you hit it? Was it a big buck r somethin’?”
“Yer gonna think I’m crazy.”
“Nah, don’t worry, we got you,” Jace assures him.
Ben stops a few feet away and stares at Jace. “It was big. Antlers that were… all velvet. Real wide.” He looks at his hands and spreads them four, five feet apart, then drops his gaze to the floor. “There were three of them, or maybe four. Three.”
“Velvet? This time of year?” Jackson looks at him skeptically. “A rack that size, you sure it wasn’t a moose? Them’s some ugly mothers. Well. Fathers, I guess. Shake anybody up, specially up close.”
Ben almost looks like he’s trembling. He doesn’t seem to have heard Jackson. “It talked to me,” he says, his voice almost a whisper.
“It — it talked to you, Ben?” Jackson laughs. “What’d it say, ‘My time has come, the warden won’t know if you shoot me’?”
Becky shoots Jackson a glare, and the man stifles his laughter, although there’s still a big smirk on his face. Jace takes a few steps closer to his friend and awkwardly places a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “That… sounds real weird, Ben,” he says.
Ben looks up at him, hesitant, doubting himself. “It asked me… it asked me if it could ask me. Like, if I wanted to be asked.”
“Asked about what?” prompts Becky after the quiet grows uncomfortable.
Ben’s eyes narrow, and he’s looking down at the candy bar display behind Jace. His forehead is furrowed. “It asked me if it could ask me to be a… a knight.”
Becky gives Jackson another silencing look before he can say anything.
“Like a, uh, knight with armor an a sword?” Jace asks, and Ben nods. “Huh.”
Ben exhales, and looks up, and it’s as though clouds have broken. “That is crazy, in’t it?” he says with a grin. He shakes himself. “Don’t know why it got to me. Probly all the coffee or sumthin’.”
And just like that he’s back to normal. As Jace pays for their purchases, Becky asks Ben if he needs a lift back home, and he says sure. He doesn’t bring up the deer again; it’s almost like the whole incident has left his mind altogether.
After they’ve dropped him off, as they drive down the hill, Jace stares thoughtfully at the road. He’s driving slowly, carefully, responsibly.
Becky looks over at him. “You okay?” she asks. “Yer awful quiet.”
“Yeah,” says Jace. “Yeah. I’m just thinkin’.”
“Bout what?”
He chews on the inside of his cheek. “Bein’ a knight,” he says, and that’s all he says.
But when he gets home, he calls the union high school down in the valley to ask about winter break classes, and then a couple of body shops in town to see if they need extra hands with some detailing experience.
Hello hello!
Happy February, since apparently that’s what it is now! I hope you enjoyed today’s story — it’s one of my favorite stories this season so far, lots of fun to imagine and write, and opens some doors, or at least illuminates some doors that might open in the future.
A big thank you
THANK YOU
just like that (it’s big, get it???) to my paid subscribers! Your support and encouragement means so much to me and is very much appreciated. (If you want to throw money at me, or give a paid subscription as a gift to a friend, you should be able to do that through the “manage subscription” button in the app or website.)
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As always, thank YOU, the reader, for reading! We’ll be back next week with another story from [close to] the interstice.
:: Jaer