Chapter 79
Him
He looks at himself in the bathroom mirror.
Carpe diem. That’s what people say at times like this. Or maybe fortune favors the bold. Who dares wins. It’s now or never.
He should have a shower first though. Sort himself out.
He pulls his T-shirt over his head and drops it on the floor. His bathroom is more like a closet, but there’s a toilet and tiny sink, plus a shower unit with enough hot water for him. He unzips his jeans, removes his boxer shorts, and steps naked under the measly jets of spray.
Then he closes his eyes and conjures up Maple.
That first time he saw her in the flesh, she was all dressed up.
Makeup, fancy clothes. Posing in a glass box in the sky, of all the crazy ways to meet.
He doubts she’ll be looking that way now; she’ll be tired, pensive, scared maybe.
And that thought causes some undefinable emotion to hollow out his chest.
He uses soap, then watches the grimy water circle down through the plughole. He gets a certain satisfaction from it, but it doesn’t make him feel clean. Except he knows from experience not to expect that. Not after the things he’s done in his life.
But there’s no point dwelling on those. Not now he has Maple to think about.
He gets out of the shower and rubs himself dry.
But as he stares at his face in the cracked mirror, he senses it’s not enough, so he strides into his bedroom, finds his old pair of clippers at the bottom of the closet, then goes back to the mirror.
Ten minutes later, the beard has gone and the hair that reached his jawline has been replaced with a neat buzz cut.
He finds a clean shirt – fucking miracle of miracles – and a pair of jeans that aren’t stinking or stained and puts them on.
From the outside he looks like a new man.
He heads out of the trailer and fires up his truck. He’s ready.