It was around 4 pm when Sam started digging. The sun was just dipping below the treeline. The two figures of Sam and Mikey casting shadows over the thick carpet of leaves. Sam knew he’d have just enough time to get things done before it’s watery autumnal gaze faded and he’d need a flashlight or lamp to continue. And he’d prefer not to go back to the car before it was absolutely necessary. Mikey sat, leaning against a nearby tree.
In his mid/late-forties, Sam was still in good shape. Still, the digging was a strenuous affair and it took a fair amount out of him. But he knew to pace himself. “I learnt that the first time I had to do this.” His voice even, measured, with an almost avuncular tone. A relative passing on hard-learned advice. “That time I had enough light, earlier in the day – too risky, mind you.” Another lesson learned. “At least that time I could rest and finish the job after starting far too quickly. Always in a hurry, that was my problem. Yours too. You could learn a thing or two. Always remember the little things.” The adrenaline rush Sam had experienced the first time had dissipated since then and now it was just another job to be done. Mikey just sat, staring into space.
Stopping to take a long pull from his water bottle, Sam watched the sun sink low on the horizon and marvelled at the warm glow on the clouds. A counterpoint to the chilly late October afternoon. He lit a cigarette and took a drag. “See? Half the time these days. ‘More haste less waste’, my old man always said. About the only thing he was good for, matter of fact.” He smiled darkly. A few more unhurried shovelfuls and the hole was nearly ready.
Again, Sam remembered the first time he’d had to do this. “I made so many elementary mistakes, I was so on edge, I was always on the verge of blind panic. Digging like my life depended on it, always glancing over my shoulder, starting in alarm at every creak and rustle in the woods.” He laughed and shook his head, clucking his tongue ruefully.
These days it seemed like an almost perfunctory task, like changing a tire or taking out the trash. This last thought amused him and a slight, far-from-pleasant smile briefly played around his lips. He lit a ruminative cigarette, took a drag and exhaled deeply. In the gray half-light of dusk, the glow illuminated his face. Throwing his harsh, worn features into relief and highlighting the long, jagged scar down the left of his face. “A souvenir you might say, from those early days. The most important lessons are always learnt the hard way. Hell, you know that.” Sam looked sternly, if a little pityingly at Mikey. “You want a job done right, you gotta do it yourself. No need to complicate things. Right here, the Barrens. Ideal. Sure, it’s a walk and it ain’t easy but no one ever comes out here. And if they do, they ain’t looking. You know?” Mikey just kept on staring straight ahead. “Oh sure, you can’t use this place all the time, it’s always good to have options. But it’ll do in a pinch.”
“Well, that oughta do it.” Sam threw the shovel onto the side of the hole and clambered out. “Best be getting on, be dark soon.”
Lighting another cigarette, Sam put the car in drive and pulled out. He’d liked Mikey but he’d been a hot-head. Oh well. Sam turned on the radio. He hummed softly along with the song playing, took a drag of his cigarette and accelerated onto the highway.
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