“Excuse me,” I told Maximus. “I’m going to go get him.”
“If you know what you are doing,” he replied. “Just don’t forget about me here. I think I’ve got ten minutes before the heat eats me alive.”
It was disgustingly hot in the car. I hadn’t even noticed this whole time. Even though sitting in there and talking to Maximus was intriguing and I adored listening to his southern drawl, I couldn’t leave Dex out there, now knowing what had happened to him. I had this urge to run up to him and give him the biggest hug, even though Dex was not a huggy type.
I stepped out into the dust and closed the door so no more would come in. It had died down but was still fanned by passing cars.
Dex’s hunched figure stood by the side of the road. It wasn’t like he was hitchhiking, he was just standing there, looking bleak.
I ran down the shoulder while being careful with my ankle and stopped beside him. He kept his eyes forward. I followed his blank gaze across the road. On a fencepost, among pointy scrub and cacti, was an owl. It was staring back at us, big eyes sticking out of its snowy head like black marbles, unmoving.
We watched the owl in silence for a while, before it flew off with huge pumps of its wings that disturbed the brush around it. I kept my eye on it until it was just a dot on the horizon and then disappeared from our sight.
I looked up at Dex. His face was smooth, maybe a bit of worry in the forehead. He was smoking a hand-rolled cigarette that smelled heavenly. I had smelled it on him earlier in the bathroom.
“May I?” I asked, putting my hand out for it.
He finally turned to look at me. “What?”
“Can I have a puff? It smells good.”
He stared at me thoughtfully and had another long drag himself.
Eventually, through a large puff of white smoke, he said, “No.”
I looked back to where the owl had been.
“How long had that owl been there?”
“Since I walked over here.”
“Is that why you pulled over?” I tested.
He flicked the cigarette out onto the road, right on time for a passing truck to drive over it. He looked into my eyes, his gaze steady and poignant.
“No,” he said flatly.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For being inconsiderate.”
“Inconsiderate of what?” he replied lazily.
Oh jeez, he was going to make me spell it out for him, wasn’t he? I didn’t want to get Maximus in trouble. I had a feeling he probably wasn’t supposed to enlighten me with Dex’s troubled past.
“I am just…sorry. OK?” I held out my hand. “Friends?”
He looked at my hand and then back at me, seeming to think about it. After five seconds, I felt a bit foolish to have my bandaged hand sticking out like that, unshaken.
“Yeah,” he said slowly. “We’re friends.”
He took my hand in his and turned it over. “How does it feel?”
“It’s sore but I’ll live. My nurse did a good job.”
He nibbled on his lip, a gesture I was starting to find adorable.
“I guess we are even.”
“How so?”
“Nevermind.”
I grabbed him at the elbow for emphasis.
“No, please, don’t nevermind me,” I pleaded. “Remember that talking thing we talked about yesterday.”
“Vaguely,” was his reply.
I sighed. He was impossible.
“Just…,” I started. Then threw my hands up in the air. It was too hot and dusty here to be arguing and it was a fairly one-sided argument. I didn’t know why we were suddenly even and maybe it was better that way.
I started walking to the car.
“Perry,” he said. There was a melancholy infliction in his voice that made me stop and turn around.
“I was hoping you’d come out and get me.”
I put my hands on my hips and cocked my head, pondering that revelation.
“Well,” I said, feeling truthful. “I’m always going to come and get you.”
We stood there on the side of the road, just looking at each other, with ten feet between us. Neither of us said anything, maybe we didn’t need to.
I waved him over to me. He shuffled forward. I grabbed his hand, dry and rough, and gave it a squeeze. A literal spark, a current, rushed from his hand to mine. In seconds it caused internal shivers around my neck. I don’t know if he felt it. He eyed my hand anxiously, at first anyway. Then squeezed back. More sparks.
Too bad I couldn’t enjoy them for long, before random images of Jennifer flashed through my head and made me realize I may not be helping the situation at all. So I let go of him slowly, and together we walked back to the car, and to Maximus, who was no doubt sweating like a poor dog that’s been forsaken by its owners.