After half a dozen repetitions of this, he wrapped an old shirt around his hands and slowly drained the water off into a small bowl, into which he tossed a couple of teabags.
Owen offered a couple of Slim Jims from his own stash and the two snapped the meat sticks into little logs which were summarily stirred into the pale and bloated pasta. The men ate directly from the cans, tilting them back and allowing the food to practically slide down their throats. When the meal was over, Tanny poured the now-steeped tea into each can and the two clinked them together as if they were sharing a snort of brandy at the gentleman’s club.
“Kind of starchy,” Tanny said apologetically, “but I’m not about to waste a drop of that water.”
By this time, shadows had crept through the forest and seemed to parry and thrust with the flickering glow of the fire. Beyond the clearing was only a ring of darkness that struggled to conquer their oasis of light like an invading cancer.
“Think that storm might blow over after all.” Tanny observed. “Looks like its moving off to the south. Shame, though. Was hoping to maybe collect a little rain by morning.”
Owen grunted a reply as he rifled through his own pack and Tanny’s brow furrowed as he watched the objects his companion pulled from it. First was a tea candle no bigger than a fifty cent piece; but this was quickly followed by a slender stick of incense that tinted the air with the scent of strawberries. Next, he removed a manilla envelope and then busied himself with pulling out handfuls of small stones.
Who the hell carries a bunch of rocks around all day? What the fuck?
Tanny’s gaze shifted from the envelope to Owen, who appeared to be building some sort of miniature wall out of the little pieces of granite and quartz.
“Hey, kid, what’cha doing?”
Owen was so engrossed in his work that Tanny’s voice didn’t seem to register in the least bit. His glasses had begun to slip down the bridge of his nose and he took a moment to push them back up with the tip of his finger before setting back to work.
Reaching over, Tanny picked the envelope and turned it over in his hands: it was so flat and light that for a moment, he wondered if there was actually anything in it. He’d seen a lot of weird shit since he’d been on the road: people who proclaimed the zombies to be Divine messengers of God, a man who swore this was all just some consensual hallucination brought about by the drugs the government had introduced into the water supply…. But something about the look on Owen’s face made him feel as though those people had been nothing more than eccentric.
At times, the boy looked as though he were aglow with some sort of inner radiance. Excitement flickered behind those glasses and a smile spread across his face like someone who’d just witnessed something so miraculous, so wonderful, that human language would never be able to capture it in words. But just as quickly as this state of grace descended upon him, so would it be lifted. The muscles in his face seemed to lose their will and his jaw hung open as drool pooled up and glistened on his bottom lip. Simultaneously, the color drained from his face, leaving only a ghostly pallor surrounding eyes that now looked more like two dull marbles. For all intents and purposes, it was like watching one of those damn zombies. Albeit, one who’d been tasked with constructing what was turning out to be a ring of stones.
Tanny glanced at the envelope again, raised it to his ear, and shook gently. He could hear something move inside: not a rattle or shake, though. More like something sliding around. Paper?
He placed the envelope on his lap and lit a cigarette as he eyed Owen again. His friend now had a look of terrible determination to him, as if the fate of the world depended entirely upon him placing the next stone in just the right position…
What the hell was in that thing anyway?
Exhaling a slow plume of smoke, Tanny allowed the cigarette to hang loosely in his lips. “Damn you and your locked door, Bluebeard.” he mumbled.
Lifting the envelope, he undid the metal clasp on the back and stole one more look at Owen. The man was oblivious to Tanny, entirely focused on completing his edifice. Tanny tilted the container, shook it slightly, and a piece of paper slid out into his waiting hand.
It was a glossy eight by ten of a woman with dark, wavy hair that cascaded down to her shoulder blades. She was turned partially away from the camera and looked back over her shoulder with the tip of her index finger resting lightly on her bottom teeth. The corners of her mouth were turned up in the hint of a smile, as if she were privy to some secret information and delighted in teasing the viewer with vague hints and innuendo. Her back was arched slightly, causing shadows to fall along the graceful curve of her spine. Her left forearm blocked her breasts from view, but it was all too easy to imagine them rounding out the front of the bra that snugly hugged her back.
Tanny’s eyes panned down the picture slowly, drinking in the matching underwear with its raised polka dot nubs and how the panties clung to the curves of that perfect ass like a needy lover. Long, smooth legs flowed effortlessly into a pair of calf-high black boots with silver buckles and heels that you could stake a vampire with. Scrawled across the bottom left hand corner of the photo, in what appeared to be a medium point magic marker were the words Owen, you rock! Beneath the inscription, was what Tanny assumed was a signature; however it was nearly impossible to read, consisting mostly of intricate loops and swirls that merely suggested letters.
Taking the cigarette in one hand, Tanny pursed his lips and let out a slow whistle as his eyes scanned the picture again.
“What are you doing?”
Owen’s voice was as flat as the stones he’d used to for the base of his now completed circle. His eyes however looked just as cold and hard and Tanny felt like a child who’d just been caught sneaking a peak at Dad’s special magazines.
“Oh hey, kid… I was just… well, I was….”
He licked his lips and smiled, changing tact mid-sentence.
“Wow, she’s quite a looker, my man. Who is she?”
Owen snorted and his brow creased with what appeared to be disapproval.
“Who is she? Seriously? That’s only Tiffany Shepis, dummy.”
Tanny took a drag from his cigarette, arched his eyebrows and shrugged, causing his companion to shake his head slowly.
“Tiffany Shepis? Only the greatest scream queen since Linnea Quigley? Hell, since ever for that matter.”
His voice trembled with the type of reverence usually reserved for gods and his words spilled out in an excited babble; but there was still something about his eyes that made Tanny feel as though the younger man were peeling back layers of skin with his gaze. He tried to keep the banter light and flowing, as if they were simply two old buddies on a camping trip.
“Oh, I see… so she was some kind of actress then?”
“No!”
Owen’s voice was as sharp as a handgun firing and he paced around the clearing now as he tugged at his left earlobe.
“No, no, no. not just some actress… the actress. Would you call the Mona Lisa just some painting? Is the Taj Mahal just some building?”
Tanny chuckled in an attempt to hide the nervous fluttering in his stomach. Subconsciously, he stroked the picture in his hand with the ball of his thumb, tracing the path of her legs over and over.
“So I take it you were a fan then?”
He’d meant the question as a joke but Owen turned so quickly that it was almost as if Tanny had just bitch-slapped him across the face. His mouth drew back into a snarl and the campfire reflected in the lenses of his glasses, making it appear as though flames raged within the dark recesses of his skull.