I pulled back a little, to give her my best wounded look. “Hey, don’t beat up the Marshalls. They’re just trying to get back home.”
“Aren’t we all,” yawned Hayden.
I pondered her statement for a while, as the fire crackled and we watched the episode unfold. The Sleestak showed up, this time with nets and spears. Which was kind of impressive, considering they all but lacked opposable thumbs.
“This show is old,” said Hayden. It wasn’t so much a question as it was a statement.
“It is,” I admitted. “But my father grew up on it, and he got me hooked as a little kid. And so…”
“Land of the Lost,” she chuckled again.
“Exactly.”
I thought of my old man, and how I would lie across his back to watch these very scenes so long ago. There wasn’t much that made him happy back then, when I was a boy. But I could remember his smile, every time he popped in one of his old VCR tapes, to pull up this show.
Nestled beneath the blankets, Hayden and I watched together, my chin resting lightly on her shoulder. Whatever was bothering her when she first walked in, the distraction of the television seemed to be just what she needed. Cradled in my arms, I could feel her whole body relaxing itself, ever so slowly. From her shoulders to her toes, she melted into the couch.
We were both nearly asleep by the time the ending theme song began blaring away. The long-lost 70’s guitar riffs screamed dynamically, as I squirmed even tighter against her.
“So do they ever get home?” Hayden murmured sleepily.
“Who?”
“The Marshalls.”
I thought about it for a moment. “Well… they do, and they don’t.”
Hayden sighed, as I brushed a stray hair back from her truly angelic face.
“That’s okay,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “They’re making the most of where they are.”
~ 38 ~
CARTER
Sawyer climbed into his usual seat, but without his usual smile. Instead, he slammed a brick-shaped paper bag onto the bar, with a loud, satisfying thump.
“Well hello to you too,” I grunted sardonically.
He pushed the brick in my general direction. Even so, I got the impression he was more concerned with pushing it away from him. Like it was radioactive or something.
“What’s that?” I asked tiredly.
“The answer to our problems,” he replied numbly. “Some of them, anyway.”
I hadn’t seen or heard from Sawyer since he took off the other night. Bodie and I knew without even trying that he wouldn’t answer calls, or respond to text-messages. And now here he was, bleary-eyed and uncharacteristically silent. Pushing solutions my way.
It was a simple matter to unwrap the brick. When I did, I couldn’t hide my shock.
“How much is there?”
“Forty grand.”
Several stacks of hundreds rested on the bar between us, wrapped in bands marked with five-thousand dollardenominations. Staring at that much money, I immediately felt uncomfortable.
“Take that, and get us an extension,” Sawyer said simply. “Or hire new fucking lawyers. Whatever it takes, to get the zone variance.”
My heart felt like it was going to burst. I didn’t have to ask where he’d gotten the money from. Just as I knew how difficult it had been for him to get it.
