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Matchbox Twelve Evening and Faith, North Carolina, greeted me as I opened my eyes. I squinted at the remnants of sunshine that raged to remain on the land as it sank into the pastures... Pastures? "I thought I'd seen the boondocks!" Adam exclaimed. Kyle's coughing resonated through the tour bus from the back, where he was sleeping. Paul was standing in the aisle, staring out the windshield. "Can we stop at that gas station up there?" he called to Frank. The tour bus passed a few small stores before pulling into a parking lot. The gas station was attached to a convenience store. A few people were hanging around outside, shooting the breeze. "We're not going to need disguises here!" Adam commented. He flung off his Yankees cap and followed Paul out the door. I glanced at Kyle, who was still coughing, before I got out of the bus. The people in front of the gas station/convenience store stared at us. "You boys ain't from around here, are ya?" an elderly gentleman turned from his friends and approached us. His friends wandered away, down the main road. "No, sir," I replied, remembering my southern manners. "We're looking for someone." That's when I realised that nobody had a picture of Rob on them; the one we'd showed Alejandro was Marisol's. Adam must have realised this too, because he ran back into the bus. "Ain't nobody around here," the man shook his head. "Just folks doing their grocery shopping is all." Paul pointed to the convenience store. "In there?" "Yeah!" the man narrowed his eyes at Paul. "And it ain't polite to point!" Adam bounded out of the bus. Panting, he handed a picture to the man. "Have, have you seen this guy...sir?" "Well, that's him!" he replied, pointing a thumb at Paul. "No," Adam held his hands on his knees. "The guy next to him." The man's eyes widened. "Son, are you telling me that this here person next ta this fellah is a man?!?" "What picture did you give him?" Paul looked over the man's shoulder. "Adam, go get another one!" It had to be that picture from Germany, where Rob dressed in drag and posed with Paul. I couldn't help but smile. Furrowing his eyebrows, the man stared at Paul. "Is there something wrong with you, boy?" "N-no, sir," Paul stammered, just as Adam ran up to the man and handed him another picture. "And he's the one who looks like a fellah in this picture?" Closing his eyes, Adam nodded. "Yes, sir." "Yeah, I've seen him." "Really?!?" Adam exclaimed with a smile. "When?" "It was yesterday. See, the misses sent me out to go on down to the store and pick up some eggs. Ya see, Patsy, that's our hen, she hadn't been layin' 'em quite so much any more, so we had her for dinner a couple evenings ago. So we needed eggs. Well I come wandering down here, and this fellah, your friend, comes sauntering by. He seemed a cheerful sort, so I said good evening to him..." "He was here in the evening?" Paul smiled, a glimmer of hope in his eye. "Now wouldn't he be here in the evening if I said good evening to him?" the man snapped at Paul. "You know, boy, I don't like you!" Paul lowered his head. "Please continue, sir," I prompted. "So, anyways, I said good evening to him. And he smiled and said good evening back to me. I asked him how he was doing, and he told me about a poetry reading he went to. Said he read something he wrote, and people seemed to like it. He was very happy with himself, and I was happy for him. Nice fellah." The man glared at Paul. "Musta got mixed up with a bad crowd if you got him dressing like a woman." "Sir?" The man turned to Adam. "Do you know, by any chance, where he went?" "Oh, he left," the man replied. "I saw him getting into an eighteen wheeler with a tattooed gentleman when I was coming out of the store." He handed the picture back to Adam. Adam took the picture from the man. "Did you see which way they went, sir?" "Toward Salisbury. Down that road yonder," he pointed behind us. "Back the way y'all came into town." "Well, thank you, sir!" The right side of Adam's lips curved upward. He shook the man's hand and boarded the bus. Paul extended his hand to the man. "Thank you, sir!" he said with a meek smile. The man stared at Paul for a few seconds before accepting the outstretched hand. As I stepped into the bus, I heard the man ask, "So what happened to your other arm, boy? A little guy like you didn't try and play football, did ya?" |