It was a pleasure for Bede to use Galen’s fairly fast Dell, and to search for basic things likeknapweedanddispose of.
Bede had to hand it to Galen for being so clever, because everything seemed to shift, and the tone of the team changed right then and there. And Bede felt his own spirits being lifted up, just like Toby’s and Owen’s seemed to be.
From there, the afternoon leaped from good to great, because not only had Bede been able to use a super-fast laptop, they’d also gone to coffee.
Sure, he’d thought for certain that when Toby had demanded they go get coffee, Galen would say no. But Galen had said yes, looking adorable as he joked about being able to afford pup cups, seemingly pleased that Toby had suggested it.
Going into the air-conditioned coffee shop, with its round marble-topped tables, and glass case full of baked treats, was a little like Bede imagined arriving in heaven would be like. The place smelled like good coffee and baked sugar, and of the scent of good coffee beans being roasted in the back rising in the air.
Sitting across from Galen as he savored his lavender espresso buoyed Bede up more than he thought it could.
He saw Galen watching him as he sighed into his frothy drink and smiled from behind the foam of his own white chocolate mocha. It was as if the two of them shared a secret that Toby and Owen simply couldn’t understand.
The conversation turned, naturally, to coffee. Bede had complained about prison coffee, and from there, Galen had told them all about his love for the kind of coffee mugs that a diner might use. That, along with a brief mention about the family farm, the pang in Galen’s voice quite clear, at least to Bede, gave Bede more insight than he had only moments before.
But what was he supposed to do with how that made him feel, kind of jumpy and interested at the same time? And how was he supposed to stop staring at Galen’s pretty face, flushed pink with the rush of overly sweet caffeine? Stop staring at those gray eyes that sparkled with laughter?
Bede loved to laugh. He and Winston used to laugh all the time. In prison, there had been no laughter, and no reason to smile. Sure, he’d laughed and smiled, but it had all been faked, just to keep up appearances.
Now, though? He’d laughed more than he had in five years. Plus, at the end of his first week in the valley, it was starting to feel different.Hewas starting to feel different. And what was he supposed to do with that?
After the coffees, they piled back in the truck and Galen drove them to the ranch, trundling up the dirt road that went through the middle of the ranch, them with their elbows hanging out the truck’s windows as they went past a line of ranch guests with binoculars over their shoulders, guests who waved at them, and they waved back. Just like they were regular guys. Just as though nobody in the place had any idea that any man in that truck had spent time behind bars.
It made everything feel new and possible and just fucking different from Bede’s old world, where everywhere he went he was known and recognized as a highly regarded lynchpin in the drug world. There was no way he could go back to that, not with a feeling like this sinking into his bones. Making him feel good all over.
Another surprise came when Bede was in his tent after dinner, alone, his blood-dark boots in his hand.
He debated whether he would put them on and go to movie night with everybody else. Outside the tent, in the woods, warmth was fading from the day, slow, low sounds and high,quick sounds, and small chirr-chirr sounds. He had no idea what was making any of it.
He took a pair of new white socks and his cowboy boots, and sat on the bottom step of the wooden platform, the boots on the step, his feet in the dust.
Somewhere he’d read that the earth was electric, and that it got recharged from above whenever lightning hit it. That electricity could be soaked in through bare skin. Which was probably all bullshit, but he did feel a sense of calm wash over him when he sat like this, with the low purple cloak of dusk settling all around.
“Barefoot, eh?” asked a voice.
Bede looked up. Galen was coming up the path with an armful of Amazon box.
For a second, he just blinked as Galen plopped the box down on the ground at Bede’s bare feet, and sat on the bottom step next to Bede as he waved a hand over the box, which sat between them like newlywed bundling.
“What’s that?” asked Bede. It was all so very surreal, having Galen there, noticing his bare feet, acting like them sitting there in the middle of the woods in a purple dusk was actually quite ordinary, when it was anything but.
“It’s your books, from the list you wrote down,” said Galen. “I figured I’d let you take your pick of what you wanted to keep with you, then put you in charge of putting the rest on the bookshelf in the mess tent.”
When Bede had been with Winston, and even before that time, he’d never considered a book anything he’d want to spend time with. Even in school, he’d done his best to avoid actually cracking a book open unless he had to.
But once in prison, books had become his lifeline. The prison library had an odd selection of both fiction and non-fiction, everything from how to build a fire to the history of football.
The books had been old, worn at the edges, frankly unloved. He’d read everything he could get his hands on, just the same, to keep his mind occupied, to keep thoughts of Winston from creeping in like stray shards.
The books in the Amazon box would be brand new. And, being from his own list, however haphazard, they’d be something he’d actuallywantto read.
He’d want to keep all the books, but he didn’t mind sharing them.
“Here.” Galen stood up, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small jackknife. He opened the blade and, with one smooth motion, cut open the Amazon box. “There you go. Have at it, and we’ll see you at movie night.”
Evidently Bede’s absence had not gone unnoticed. Probably Kell had said something about it.
“Didn’t realize it was required attendance,” he said, making it a joke.
