SEBASTIAN
SEBASTIAN
I'm halfway across the farmyard, nearing the back door, when I hear it—the rough, grumbling sound of an engine, cranky from disuse. Dobby immediately flies to my side, tail between his legs, almost tripping me in his efforts to hide from the assault. Even knowing exactly what the noise is, I can't make sense of it. Only the rear corner of the shed is visible from where we are, a darker-than-pitch shadow beyond the beam of my torch.
"Come on, boy," I say, my tone soothing. I hold a steady pace as I continue onward to the house. "Let's get you in and put to bed." Dobby doesn't seem too convinced by my assumed calm, clinging close, and I don't blame him—my heart's refusing to play along.
When we reach the backdoor, the sound cuts out, only to start up again a minute later. I've barely opened the door a crack before Dobby's shooting past me into the kitchen. I step in after him, switch on the light, and fill his water bowl at the sink. We've been out walking for at least an hour, and he's exhausted. Swift to settle once safe inside, I don't have long to wait until he's curling himself up in his basket. "I'll be back soon, bud, okay?" I tell him, and then I head back out into the unquiet night.
A dim light spills from the shed's open doors, quickening my approach. I flick my torch off as I cross the threshold. And it comes as no great surprise when Ashleigh is the first to hail my entrance, her head poking out my truck's passenger window. Because, of course, she has her finger in this.
"Behold, ye of little faith," she calls, practically shouting to be heard over the shuddering roar. "It's alive!"
Stopping beside the workbench, I move no further. My attention has already been lost to Ashleigh, snatched away by the wholly candid and undiluted look of joy animating the face beside her.
How I left things with Craig in the snug earlier has plagued my mind for most of my walk. For all that I meant everything I'd said to him, I'm fully aware I took it too far. On this occasion, he'd done nothing to merit my anger. He most certainly didn't deserve my parting taunt. I played his vulnerability against him, thinking only to shut him down, and that's deplorable. Yet even still, here he is, being unreasonably contrary.
Craig shuts the engine off and climbs out the driver's side. Grease streaks his dimpled cheek, the result of a careless hand swipe, stark in contrast to the gleam of his pearly whites. I'm not sure I was even aware he had dimples before now. "I was going to leave," he says, loud enough to suggest his ears have been traumatised. "And then," he pats the hood, "I didn't."
"Sure those parts you've snuck in there weren't meant for a tank?"
A laugh blurts from him, a sound that flips my stomach over itself. "Lucky thing your neighbours aren't nearby, huh?"
If I had my wits about me, I'd realise the good sense in turning on my heel right now and walking straight back out. But I haven't, and I don't. I'm incapable of even shifting my eyes from him, and an impetuous twitch at the corner of my mouth is becoming ever harder to resist.
The prick is a full-on headfuck. An extraordinary spectacle, basking in his triumph without a trace of his usual reserve. There's no fooling myself into being unaffected by it. I'm feeling his pride like a glorious jackknife break to my otherwise intolerable day. But I'd be ever more the fool to let it dispel all that came before. There's no way he can genuinely be this okay with my objectionable conduct tonight. "You're killing me here, Craig."
"Not intentionally," he shrugs, looking completely unfazed.
"It actually wouldn't at all kill you, Bas," Ashleigh cuts in, creaking the passenger door open, "to simply thank him." She straightens up out of the truck and eyeballs me. "Give it a go, I dare you."
Craig slides her an amused glance over the hood. "I don't want his thanks."
"He wants to hear me admit I was wrong," I take a stab, still not turning from him.
Another staggering jolt of laughter tells me I've called it, even as his head shakes in denial. "Your reaction is more than gratifying enough, Bas. Honestly. But it's more that I just couldn't stand to fail."
"Failing would've cost you far less."
"It also would've gained me nothing at all."
"You said you weren't in it for gain."
He ignores the edge to my voice. "I said I wasn't in it to gain anything from you."
"Then, what…?"
Cue Ashleigh's next interference. Slamming her door shut with unnecessary force, she rounds the truck's front end to stand between us and darts a frown of mock consternation from one to the other as she says, "I'm starting to wonder if there's any helping either of you."
"Didn't ask for any help," I point out at the same time Craig retorts, "About time you got that figured." He sends me a brilliant grin over her head, and too damn late, I catch myself returning it.
At the flourish of her hands skyward, it would appear we've hit a nerve. "Fine!" But she can barely hold a straight face as she flounces for the doors, jabbing my arm and snagging my torch in passing. "Then my work here is done."
We both turn our heads to track her out, walking backwards with the torch uplighting her impish face to eerie effect. Craig's the first to crack up, his third outburst in so many minutes. I cave to it an instant later. Until she's spinning on her heel and disappearing behind the house with a skip to her step.
It's an odd feeling, just letting go. I can't even remember the last time I allowed myself to. "One of a kind, that girl."
"She's certainly that!"
I find Craig still tickled and only half-attentive to the removal of my grubby overalls when I look back around at him. The shed feels suddenly smaller for only the two of us being in it. "Thank you." My voice seems to fill the space. "I shouldn't have had such little faith, and I am grateful."
He pauses, falling silent, the overalls halfway down his legs. It takes him a moment to respond, and when he does, he makes no comment on what I've just said. Instead, he asks, "Up for a drive?"
It takes another moment before I question what I heard. "A drive?"
"Yeah, a test drive. We can't really sign her off as done until we've given her a run, right?"
"This time of night?"
"It's not that late," he counters. Only when I slant a glance at the imaginary watch on my wrist, he adds, "For me. I don't especially sleep well."
I consider him as he returns to stripping down, bending to pull the trouser legs off over his shoes. "Is there a reason you're avoiding going home, Craig?"
His shoulder bounces. "I've no reason to rush."
"Okay."
"I mean, I could just take her out on my own, but I figured you might have an issue with me—"
"Okay," I repeat over him, whipping him up straight. He stumbles out of the way as I move for the driver's side, climbing in to find the key waiting in the ignition. "But it's my ride."
Casting the overalls off to one side, he skirts around the truck to the passenger door with a disarming eagerness that I'm still not quite so comfortably sold on. "Yes, boss."
Neither of us says a word as I bring the truck roaring to life and cautiously roll it out of the shed and across the drive. Perhaps it's only the long while since last I heard it that's amplifying the engine's anger, but it doesn't resist me when I shift up a gear. I keep my eyes glued to the dark road ahead as we leave the farmhouse behind. These unlit, narrow, winding roads could easily be a death trap with too little attention paid. Craig seems content to watch the shadowy world blur by out the passenger window, his forehead resting against the pane. An occasional glance across notes his smug glee mellowing.
This trip wasn't my idea, and he doesn't give me direction. But I instinctively turn onto an unmarked track almost lost between thickly encroaching brush, and I know exactly where we're headed. Slowing at the familiar indentation of a passing bay, I angle in to park.
Craig abruptly straightens up as the engine cuts off and stares out at the empty road stretching before and behind him. Hedges taller than either of us border both sides. His face becomes almost comical; it's all too clear what he's thinking. "Bas, why have we stopped?"
"I've something to show you."
"Please correct me if I'm wrong: This looks like a place where nobody'd hear my screams."
Schooling my expression, I pocket the key, throw open my door and get out. My grin escapes the instant I've straightened up out of his view. Walking around the back of the truck with the acute sense of him tracking me through the mirrors, I pull his door wide and then offer my hand. He doesn't budge. "What exactly is it you're accusing me of here, Craig?"
Tipping his head a fraction, he glowers up at my expression to reply, "I wouldn't put anything past you."
He's looking pretty damn entertaining, the black smear across his cheek adding a little something extra. Until that is, I think about all the unfocused time he's spent on the passing scenery, caught up in himself. And then, I think again about all the missteps preceding this point which he's thus far seemed adamant to blank. I draw my hand back and pull away. "I'd say you can search me for a weapon, but that would probably just make this weirder."
"Yeah. Probably."
"I'm not going to jump you, okay? Promise."
"Great," he snorts. "Except, that doesn't protect me from being stranded, does it? Some new lesson you've devised for me: Ditching me out in the middle of nowhere to, what? Give me time to reflect on my insignificance or some shit?"
"We're still on my land, Craig." Turning away, I indicate the road ahead. "There's a gate just a stretch further on. Cross the fields toward the dark lip of trees on the horizon, and you'd get back to the house."
"I just want to drive. Get back in the truck, please. Turn around if you're done; I'll take Roxy and get gone."
"This is my ride," I remind him evenly, "and you agreed." When he remains unmoved, I sigh and retrieve the truck's key from my jacket, jingling it out to him. "Come on, trust me this one time. I think you'll appreciate it."
He eyes the key for a small eternity before snatching it from me and swinging his legs out. "For the record," he says, joining me on the grassy verge, his wary gaze searching the darkness. "I have a feeling I'm going to regret this."
Delving into my pocket again, I hunt around for the small LED keyring I keep on me and click it on as I pull it out. "Duly noted." I'm smirking as I shine the mini beam up at my own face while taking a few backward steps away from him.
The move successfully rekindles a spark of his good humour.