His Other Half

Chapter Three

The 42• midday heat was unrelenting on Charles Maxwell's bare unclothed torso. His dark golden tan glistened in the sun from the sheen of sweat that had formed over his chest and back. His tough, calloused hands from years of hard, draining work were firmly closed around the hammer he was using to fix a post on one of the farms fences, that had fallen in last nights Summer storm. Since his father died when he was a teenager, the farms responsibilities fell onto Charles' shoulders. Not that he had a complaint. He loved the hard work. He would much rather being in the 40• heat for 14 hours a day, only stopping when his horse needed a break, then sitting in an office cubical, eyes glued to a screen for 8 hours a day.

Charles loved his farm. He spent more time interacting with nature and the animals he housed at the farm, then he did interacting with humans. The truth was that Charles hated people. He doesn't employ any farmhands for that very reason. The most socialising he does is to his neighbour Jim who owns the farming land opposite him. The only reason Charles interacts with Jim is because he does Charles's finances. Charles HATES numbers. If there is anything he hates more then social interactions it is numbers and mathematics.
Charles had barely passed primary school with his head above water, so when it came to high school he failed. Epically.

Charles dropped out of school at 13 years old and chose to spend his time learning the farm. Jim had been Charles' late fathers best friend. They had known eachother since kindergarten days, so Charles often listens to Jims childhood days over an ice cold beer reminiscing about life when his father was alive.

Jim was married. To a lovely woman called Mary who ran the local cafe in town. She often returned home from work with home cooked meals for Charles. She knew how hard he worked, and she also knew he had microwave meals and canned soups to eat most nights due to the exhaustion and the effort cooking required.

Charles was good looking in a "rough around the edges" kind of way. He was A 6"3 man with a firm muscled torso, that lead down to rough and calloused hands, followed by thick, muscled long legs covered in firm fitting jeans and his favourite boots adorned his feet. Charles had light stubble coating his jawline, the shade match in his mop of dark brown hair ontop of his head, and to top it off a pair of striking Deep brown eyes, that rarely had emotions passing through them.

Charles would be described as "cold" and "unfriendly". He ventures into town once a fortnight in his beat up rusty dual cab hilux to replenish his supplies. When in town he does his utmost best to avoid people. He does not stay around to make friendly conversation, yet he isn't impolite either. His father taught him better then that. He holds doors open for women, he greets people with "sir" and "ma'am", he would help an old lady cross the street. It's just people chose not to see past those cold and unemotional eyes.

Jims voice brought Charles back to the present, and he tuned back into the conversation.
"Would you like to stay for dinner tonight Charles? Mary just called, apparently she has a visitor who she wants us to meet"
Charles's first instinct was to shake his head and deny the invitation offered to him, he hated meeting new people. He just likes to stay with himself, and focus on his farm and his animals. He didn't NEED to meet anyone new. Although he was a bit intrigued by who Mary had with her, it wasn't often she brung people to their farmhouse, Jim was similar to Charles in a way, he hated interacting with people, and Mary knew how both of the males were, so she respected their boundaries. So there was a funny feeling in Charles' gut about why she had a visitor.
Charles shook his head and turned to Jim,
"Sorry Jimmy, not tonight, have to get pup home, have an early start in the morning, the bloody storm made more damage then I thought in the first place, how about I swing by after?"

Jim smiled despite the decline in offer, he knew Charles too well, and to be honest he couldn't blame the kid for denying, he would of done the same thing. Jim nodded at him,
"No worries kid, take care and I'll see you tomorrow, you know how Mary will be if you don't show up, so make sure you do"
With a chuckle, Charles shook his head and got into his Hilux with Pup's 20 kilogram body occupying his passenger seat, and made his way home to his own house.
Pup had been his pet for the past 10 years, Charles had hand raised Pup since she was 4 weeks old, so she was very special to Charles.

Lying down in his bed for the night, with Pup at the end of the bed, Charles can't help but feel that hollow, empty pain in his chest. The one that starts with a slow ache, and continues to haunt him for years. That one thing called Loneliness.