When It's Time to Move On

Door 1 - Chapter 8 - New Starts

His eyes searched the mist – for any sign of the gnarled hat resting on the man he sought – when he made his appearance. Looking just as shabby as the day before and walking in the same feeble manner.

"Hi, I thought I'd meet you here again," Harris greeted. Bob paused for a moment, seemingly unsure. Harris prepared himself for the possibility of a brushoff.

"You again, that's a coincidence," Bob replied. Relief flooded through Harris.

"I told you I'd try and help you out, yesterday. So, here I am," said Harris with determination. Bob, however, looked less impressed, amused even.

"All right then, how do you plan on helping me?"

"How about we sit down and you tell me more about yourself? I'd like to know if you please."

Harris's main concern was the remotest possibility of any association that Bob might have with him. So far, he was disappointed. Bob was more than three decades older than him, which meant most of his information had no impact on Harris's life. He had no connection with him prior to arriving in the town and there was no familial relationship either.

"I suppose that's it," Bob finished. "So, what do you suggest?"

"I'll try to see what I can do."

"I know that line. Means you're not going to do anything. Look, son. There's no use wasting both our times. I'm experienced enough to know what's what."

"I'm sorry," Harris apologized for his mendaciousness. "I thought I could figure something out if I knew more about you. So, are you going to be alright?"

"Don't know but I planned on being here by myself when I came. So it's fine, you can leave."

"Again, I'm sorry." Harris slowly began to walk away, feeling ashamed. 

In his haste to figure out his own troubles, he'd made Bob recall his painful memories. As he observed the pitiful figure hunched by the sea, Harris couldn't help but feel obligated to him. Despite his own problems bogging him down, he couldn't very well leave Bob by himself. It felt like the wrong the thing to do. Perhaps offering some help to a stranger without any personal intentions might make him feel better, he thought. As he wondered how he could help a middle-aged unemployed man, it hit him. He ran back through the mist quickly.

"Bob, I know how I can help you," he approached. "How'd you like a job?"

"You're offering me a job?" Bob asked startled. "But you don't even know me".

"I heard enough. So, how about it?"

"All right then, I suppose," said Bob still taken aback.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then. You can find me at the beach house by the rocks you visit. Come by anytime you want."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

Harris nodded in farewell and turned to leave.

"You're not pulling my leg, are you?" Bob's voice came from behind.

"I wouldn't joke," Harris called back. "Not about this".

He had gone to bed feeling considerably better about the next day. He woke up with his head ringing, only to realize it was the sound of a phone. He jumped up from bed and rushed downstairs to pick it up.

"Hello?"

"Harris, how are you?" Came the familiar voice of his boss. "How's the beach house suiting you?"