Chapter Four #2
My heart raced as I spotted multiple stacks of ninety-eight-pound sacks of flour, not the fifty pounds I’d assumed they were, which wasn’t even doable.
Both heads turned my way when I released an audible sigh.
Oh, how I wished I would’ve kept that inside.
Thomas shook his head and walked away while Joe laughed and started tossing me the twenty-five-pound bags of sugar instead.
The first one knocked the wind out of me, and I nearly fell on my ass.
“Get a move on, boy. That old man inside runs circles around you.” Joe really didn’t like me and we’d only just met. It took everything I had not to flip him the bird.
I do not belong in this era. How any twinks, let alone anyone flying under our beloved rainbow flag, survived it, I’ll never understand.
Joe’s frustration mounted as I’d barely unloaded the fifth bag of sugar while he’d wheeled in the last of the flour.
I came out to grab another one, only to find he’d driven off and left the remaining bags of sugar as well as the tubs of lard on the back dock for me to bring inside.
I used the back of my sleeve to wipe my sweaty forehead, grabbed the dolly he’d left behind and did my best to load it up and push it inside.
Without a doubt, this was not my calling in life.
As much as I wanted to call it quits and teleport back home, I wasn’t leaving without Alex. Stay focused, Charlie.
Just as I placed the last bucket of lard in the storeroom, Thomas walked in. “Appears you didn’t make much of an impression on Joe. He left in quite a huff.”
“Sorry, I did my best, sir.” Remaining in his good graces kept a roof over my head and food in my belly.
“Well, let’s get to work.” He tossed a sack of flour over his shoulder like it was nothing. “Grab a bag of sugar and bring it into the kitchen for me.”
My arms still shook from the workout they’d gone through, but somehow, I managed to haul the bag where he wanted it. “What do you want me to do next?”
“Take a break. I left a glass of water and a muffin on the front counter for you.” He returned to measuring out the ingredients he needed for the batter he was mixing. “After you’re done, sweep up the lobby and the back room, then call it a day.”
Just as I’d finished sweeping, Thomas came into the storage room. “I put some clothes on the bed upstairs for you. They used to belong to my boy. He was about your size.”
“Thank you. Did your son move away?” I asked as I washed my hands.
He cleared his throat. His eyes glistened with unshed tears and I immediately regretted asking.
“No. He was lost at sea. Always wanted to be a fisherman like his grandfather. Went out one night with his shipmates and a bad storm rolled in and caught them off guard. John, my son, and another fella fell overboard. Their bodies were never recovered.” He stilled, clearly reliving the painful memory.
“That was three years ago. My old man would have been proud of him and is probably turning in his grave knowing his only son became nothing more than a baker.” He wiped his hands on his apron.
“Some of my happiest childhood memories are of the times I helped my mom in the kitchen. Kinda stuck with me, I reckon.”
Two painful memories my question brought forth.
A father’s broken heart over the loss of his son and a son’s sense of self-worth over choosing a path his own father never wanted for him.
My heart went out to Thomas. Alex and I had been lucky in that aspect, always having our family’s guidance and support. God, how I missed him.
Thomas placed his hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Sorry, Charlie. I didn’t mean to bring you down with my story. I hope the clothes fit. Call it a day after you’re done sweeping,” he said, as he walked toward the front.
I finished up, then headed upstairs, in desperate need of clean clothes.
Thankfully, they fit far better than the ones I’d permanently borrowed.
Thomas’s wife must have sent over food, as well, because I found a bowl of soup and a grilled cheese sandwich waiting on the counter for me.
As soon as I’d finished eating, it was back to the streets again in search of Alex.
This night, I chose the south side of town.
It was a working-class, blue-collar residential area with rows of houses and a couple of markets.
I was bound and determined to find him, no matter how many shoe soles I wore out in the process.
I didn’t dare question the fact he may not have landed in Seattle, in this era, for fear that would do me in.
Hope was all I had and hope was what I’d follow.
Sure, I could cut and run, take myself back to our life.
But it wouldn’t be our life anymore if I did that because everything as I’d known it to be would’ve changed.
Going back in time and making any adjustments was not advised, according to my father’s notes.
Yet I still had no idea why he’d chosen to time travel as much as he had.
I chose to be with Alex, he was my heart and soul, and without him by my side, I was nothing but an empty shell.
Our story can’t be over yet, it’d only just begun.
I’d thought nonstop about his proposal since I got here and my selfish response to something that meant so much to him was a jackass move, and one I’d remedy as soon as I found him.
What was my problem anyway? Why couldn’t I grant him that one request when he rarely asked anything of me?
Alex always put me and my needs first and himself second.
He protected me. When my father died, he went above and beyond, and never once complained.
All he need to do once we get home is name the time and place, and I’d proudly wear his ring. Forever.
Combing the south side after dinner hours was worthless. Not a soul was on the street as everyone was home for the night. My poor Alex must be so lost.
This was all my fault.
All my goddamned fault!
And I’ll never forgive myself for this.