Mason handed me my sunglasses. We were trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. You never knew who you might run into. And everyone in Gusby knew everyone. We weren’t sure if that was the same for us—two kids that hadn’t been back in over a decade.
“It’s as hot as a summer revival,” Mason said, tapping my leg as a signal to try and outdo him. He leaned back, his arm slipping around me.
“Uh, let’s see,” I said. “It’s hot enough to melt the nuts off a brass monkey.”
We both laughed. The tension finally faded away as the bus came to a screeching halt in front of us.
The bus driver opened the door with one smooth move. He nodded his head at the two of us as we got on the bus. I gripped the seats one after the other, following Mason to the back.
I sat down first. We both stayed quiet as a guy in a seat closer to the front looked at us. I held my breath, hoping he didn’t know who we were. I feared we might be plastered in black and white all over Gusby. I imagined flyers covered with our images showing we were wanted for robbery and murder littering the streets. But the guy only nodded his head in our direction and went back to thumbing through the paper on his lap.
He threw his feet up on the seat in front of him. His dirty black boots cried out for a good spit shine or garbage can I thought to myself.
“It’s hotter than two gophers fucking in a wool sack,” Mason said, pulling at his collar.
I rolled my eyes. I was done with the hotter game. I was sweating like mad and wished we hadn’t left the air-conditioned jet.
Suddenly a loud noise came from Mason. I jumped, unsure what it was. He slipped a cell phone free from his pants pocket.
“Jay gave it to me. It’s legit,” he said, pushing me as he answered it. “’Sup, my main man.”
I stared out the window while Mason yucked it up. I knew it was Jay calling to check up on us.
I was nervous, more nervous than I’d ever been. Aunt Wanda warned me to never come back to Gusby. But I did because Mason and I both realized the best place to go out was where we came from. I had no favorite spots. I didn’t have some favorite state somewhere. This was home.
I wanted to feel like I belonged before everything ended for me—because that was a real possibility. I wanted to see what happened to everyone. I even wanted to see my old house.
Mason nudged me, pushing the phone against my arm. I took it and brought it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Hey, gorgeous. How you feeling?” Jay’s warm voice sent an immediate pang of guilt and regret through me.
“Hey, handsome,” I said back.
“So is it all you thought it was going to be?” he asked, waiting for my answer.
“I don’t know yet. We’re still on the bus.” I looked at Mason. He smiled and pushed past me to see out the window.
“I was thinking about you. I’m glad you made it safe. I hate to sound like a sap, but I miss you.” He laughed, sounding embarrassed to have admitted such a thing.
“Thanks for saying that,” I told him. My cheeks warmed.
“I’m serious. I think you’re an amazing girl. The little I learned about you was remarkable. There’s nobody like you and I am going to be kicking myself for the rest of my life for letting you get away.”
I smiled. It felt good to hear someone talk so highly of me.
“Hey, we’re close to our stop. I’ll call you tonight maybe.” I remembered the old stop sign by the old pharmacy in town.
“Huckabees,” Mason said, jumping out of his seat. The kid in the front looked at him like he was nuts.
I said goodbye to Jay and snagged Mason by the arm so he would calm down.
“I want to hump you at Huckabees,” Mason said as he kissed my cheek.
I swatted him off of me, annoyed with his overly aggressive lips. The stubble of his chin scratched my face.
“Gusby!” the bus driver announced, sending chills through me.
It brought me right back to when I was a kid. I remembered my hair nice and neat, the yellow sweater over my red dress and even my shiny black shoes. I closed my eyes, trying to make out who was with me. I was clean and happy, smiling as I skipped to the back of the bus, a sucker in my grip.
“Kendall, let’s go!” Mason yelled from the front of the bus.
I shook the memory away and hurried to catch up. My hair fell in my eyes as I climbed out. The bus driver gave another nod before he took off.
I jumped down to the asphalt of my old stomping ground.
We made our way through town. Everything was still old. Storefronts were nothing but huge windows draped with dark curtains. The names were painted on them by hand like the last time I’d laid eyes on them.
The road was still brick and in need of repairs.
“The old church with the annoying clock,” Mason pointed out.
He was right. It chimed every hour on the hour—three dings. No matter if it was eight or three, just three dings.
“Remember the liquor store? And all the times you and I played outside while Payton or my mom was in there drinking free booze?” I said to Mason, laughing as we passed by it.
“They both blew Bobby Nathan behind the counter for free rum. Well, my mom did anyways.” He laughed dryly.
I was sure it wasn’t as funny as he was making it sound.
“Mom was more Vodka and Jack Daniels.” I sighed. He was right about the blow jobs, wrong about the drink of choice.
“I wonder if Bobby Nathan still runs this place,” Mason said. He stopped walking and spun back around on his heels heading right back to the old liquor store.
I gripped his hand tightly, afraid but intrigued. Mason didn’t hesitate, he marched right in. The bell chimed overhead, and, sure enough, there was Bobby Nathan—a little grayer but I still recognized him.
“Mornin’ all,” Bobby said, his thick southern drawl catching me off guard.
It had been a long time since I’d heard one like his. He was fatter than before. As he rounded the counter, his bulbous stomach jiggled with each step he took.
I wasn’t sure if he recognized us.
“Morning there, Bobby,” Mason said, looking around the store.
The wine lined our feet just like old times right by the old register. It was just as dusty and dark as the last time I stood inside it as a little girl. It even smelled the same—like dust and stale cigarette smoke.
Bobby studied us both long and hard. His eyes roaming over every inch of the two of us as he tried to solve the mystery. I could tell he remembered us but couldn’t place a finger on just who we were exactly.
“Now wait a minute, I feel like I know the two of you,” he said, waving a hand in the air as if to jar his memory.
Mason picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels and set it down on the counter. Bobby grabbed a brown paper bag and bagged it up in a flash. He kept his eyes on me, stumped.
“You remind me of someone. Just can’t place a finger on it.”
I smiled a little. It was either Leon Talbot Halstead III or my most wanted photo. I wasn’t anything like my mom as far as I knew.
“Well, I wouldn’t know who that would be. Not passing out clues. Maybe it will come to ya.” Mason grabbed my wrist and moved me toward the door before I would spill the beans, which I knew I wouldn’t.
Bobby shot me a friendly grin, confusion still paining his features.
We walked around the building and Mason undid the bottle cap and downed some of the Jack Daniels.
“Want some?” he asked, leaning against the brick of the store.
I took the bottle and inhaled the nasty liquor.
“I remember he used to call me a mutt,” he said, his expression growing serious.
“Mason,” I said. I touched his hand.
“I’m not bothered. It’s just all these years I forgot about that until this very moment. It’s funny how things come right back to you.” He grabbed the bottle back and took a long swig.