He took a moment to press his forehead against the tree that had been his backrest for the last hour.
“Thank you,” he said, feeling self-conscious and choosing not to care.
His attention landed on Alf’s truck.
He checked his phone.
Still no service.
He felt a surge of guilt for keeping the truck a day longer than intended.
“I guess I’ll reach him the old-school way.”
He drove down to the Count and Countess, where he found his battered Prius sitting with a new windshield. He parked beside it. A banana air freshener hung from his car’s rearview.
Alf greeted Green like an old friend, passed over Casper’s invoice, and loaned him the station landline so he could pay for the repairs.
“Hey, before I head out, I wanted to talk to you about those flyers in back,” Green said.
“Yeah?”
“The one about hiking to the Hole in Nothing. I think you should get rid of it.”
“Bro, those flyers don’t exactly get a lot of traffic. You’re the last person to see ’em.”
“I figured. But it isn’t safe.”
“Oh, yeah? You been there?”
“Yes. Just yesterday.”
“Pretty cool, right?”
Green thought about the ball of goo shooting into the sky and the way the hole seemed to watch him.
“Uh, I wasn’t a big fan.”
“Did you see it at night?”
Green shuddered at the thought.
“No. Does that matter?”
“Yeah, bro. It matters. You gotta see it at night.”
Green thought about telling Alf about the dead birds, but he realized he would be inviting questions he didn’t know how to answer.
“Look, maybe just steer clear of that place. At least for now?”
Alf shrugged.
“I hear ya. Good lookin’ out. I’ll keep the tourists away.”
“Thanks, Alf.”
“Don’t forget, Green, you still owe me that six-pack for hooking you up with car help.”
“I didn’t forget. Want me to buy it now?”
