Chapter 8: We're A Bit Fucked Now, Yeah?

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Fall 1993

"It's so nice of you to finally come over, it gets a bit lonely in this house sometimes." Mrs. Lakes said, the old cat standing in the doorway to her home and beckoning Eli to come inside. The sunlight reflected off her golden brown fur, making her shine and appear much younger than she was, enhanced by the soft breeze that carried the smells of early fall to his sensitive nose. This of course dissipated when he stepped inside though, and she went back to just being the simple old lady that she was, smelling of dust and cinnamon, a product of an era long past.

"My friend Noah is out camping this weekend, I think you've seen him around before, there aren't many raccoons here." She frowned at the word raccoon.

"You'd best be careful, raccoons spell trouble."

"I'll be fine, we've been getting along alright. So what was it you needed help with?" What was everyone's deal with raccoons? She didn't push the issue further when she responded.

"Oh, well there are some leaves in my backyard that need to be raked. I'll make some lemonade while you work and maybe we can have a chat?" She said hopefully, handing a rake to him that was leaning next to the backdoor.

"Yeah sure, I'll get started." Though he wasn't looking forward to the prospect of the task, he had been bored out of his mind for days now with no one to hangout with. It was better to get this over with and at least have something to occupy himself with.

But as he started, the experience turned out to be a pleasant one. He had rarely let himself stop to admire the natural beauty of the world, and there was nothing quite like the swirling colors of red and yellow leaves as they were carried by the wind, leaving the strong smell of nature in the air. And Mrs. Lakes turned out to be far more interesting to listen to then he had expected, talking about her husband before he left for the Vietnam war, and some of her crazier experiences during the acid wave of the 60's. Though she firmly advised Eli against drug use, she clearly remembered those experiences fondly, without any regrets. The work went quickly, the lemonade sweeter than he would've liked but still delicious, and soon the sun was hanging low in the sky, filtering between the newly barren branches of the old oak tree in her backyard. She beckoned him farewell just before the streetlights turned on, and he promised to come visit her again soon. Oh if only she knew how soon that would be.

Things just have a way of turning out badly for everyone around Eli unfortunately, and this memory would be ruined the same way his memories of Noah would. At Mrs. Lakes' appointment last week she was given a clean bill of health and expected to live for at least a few more decades. With thanksgiving just a month away, she was already planning the best recipes to teach to her two grandchildren. She'd be buried six fucking feet deep by next Friday, next to the picked clean bones of our favorite raccoon.

Fall 1996

The calendar hanging on the wall behind the counter of the diner indicated that morning as the start of September 23rd, the Autumn equinox. The first day of fall. It felt fitting for that day to be today. Fall, nature's time of death and rebirth. Less than twenty four hours ago Eli had come face to face with death and survived. But for how long?

The air was cold and uncomfortable, even the slightest breeze seeming to travel straight through his coat and into his very bones. Anthony didn't seem so bothered, he had a far away look in his eyes again, as they both sat side by side on the curb in front of Campbell's house. The only warmth was the cigarette resting between his fingers, lifted from the pack in his uncle's coat. After the events of the previous night, there wasn't much he felt like he wasn't allowed to do anymore.

It felt as though some kind of barrier had fallen, an unspoken rule broken. That protection that kept everything dangerous out of Eli's life suddenly had room for a plus one. He supposed it was something he always wanted, the type of bond he now shared with Anthony. There were no words for it, and every word he landed on felt like it would lead to dangerous thoughts. This was foreign territory now, uncertain paths branching out before him with no signs to point him the right way. Maybe there were pits of blood at the end of every path, the choices he made now completely unable to change the inevitable. It was best to avoid thoughts like that for now, but he could help but feel that one wrong move is all it would take for everything to fall apart.

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