Disclaimer: The only thing in this story of my own invention is the plot. I own nothing else.
Author's Note: Thank you for the support, readers. There aren't tons of you, but I appreciate even just being read by a few. If you like this story, I hope you read my other story, The Cookies of Truth. It's very different than this story, but I like to try out different genres. Please review, even if you have nothing good to say to me. Be harsh! I like constructive criticism.
The lonely young man soon found company in the next town over from where he had run away, where his train had finally stopped. The company he found was among the construction workers there, who were his new co-workers. Though he dreamed of a different life, he knew that this hard work was necessary to begin anew, and these friends were sufficient enough to keep him from feeling too isolated while he lived in this town.
The town he had arrived in was very small, with just a few family-owned businesses, a church and a school, but mostly farmland. It was dusty, dry, and very, very still. Every morning, the young man woke up at the crack of dawn so that he could be at his current worksite by sunrise. Since his job was a physically strenuous one, he lagged behind; exercise had never been emphasized for him at "home." He began to jog during almost all of his free time, causing him great physical pain. Nonetheless, he felt free here; these physical aches were nothing compared to the intangible ones of his previous life. He boarded in the house of a large family, where it was always very noisy, so he didn't spend very much time there. His room was the smallest as well as the barest; he lived with only the necessities. His focus was solely and single-mindedly on work.
His new friends in the construction business were very different than him. While these muscular men spoke of riches, fame, and sexy women, all this young man wanted was to be with people who were happy to simply be with him. He dreamed of nothing grand and nothing spectacular; he dreamed simply of simple moments. So, when he met Aileen, he hoped that he had found the person he had so fervently sought, the person who would be like, and understand, him. But maybe "met" actually isn't the best word to use for what happened between them, because he had only seen her but never they had never talked. Aileen was having a house built on the outskirts of town, and almost everyone thought her a bit odd, for she was all alone--always. Whether she was dealing with her new house, or just grocery shopping or eating, she was never seen with anyone else. The young man was intrigued by her, but he didn't know how to find out more about her and still be discrete, so he had to resort to asking his fellow construction workers.
"What do you guys know about this Aileen woman?" said the young man to his co-workers one day as he hammered nails into the side of the new school they were building.
"I dunno," replied Ralph, "But she's one creepy chick." He spat on the ground and then resumed hammering loudly.
The man paused, and then continued with a hint of timidness. "I think she's beautiful," he said.
To this (or the dust--it was impossible to tell), Gus wheezed. "I think you're desperate, buddy! I heard she was widowed last year, and she never talks to anyone but the contractors—because she has to!" He chuckled and then got back to work with his hammer.
The young man stared at a nail in his fingers, twirling it a bit before he got back to work. "I bet she's heartbroken," he murmured for no one to hear.
Next Chapter: Mystery "young man" meets Aileen.