Hi guys, Thrashlikeamechanic here.
I had to move into a Homeless Shelter a few days ago.
It's been really hard, and things get really busy around here, and I should be devoting most/all of my time to getting more work so that I can save and get out of here...so I don't know how oftain I'll be able to update. I'm going to try though, because writing makes me feel slightly calmer.
Anyway, here's chapter 3!
"Alright, now lift up her leg, yeah, like that." I told Leonard while running a hand across the horse's face and neck as she lay on the ground. "Careful, not so fast!" The horse let out a whiny, but didn't move. She knew we were here to help. I put a comforting hand on her snout.
"I know what I'm doing." Leo finished wrapping the gauze around her ankle and pulled out the tricorder from the med-pack. "The bone's healed, and the swelling should go down in less than a week." McCoy turned to Mr. Treadway who was standing beside us in the field, making sure the other horses and cattle left us alone to work.
"Oh thank you so much, this horse is my livelihood." Mr. Treadway let out a relieved sigh.
"It's not a problem." McCoy and I stood back as Dixie attempted to stand up on her shaky leg, testing out her new cast before she trotted off. The sun was beating down on us and I could see the sweat on Leo's brow and neck. It's hard to remember it's December when the sun's this hot. Only in Georgia can you get sunburn and frostbite in the same week.
"Come inside for a cup of tea?" Mr. Treadway ordered more than asked. "It's the least I can do."
"No, really, it's okay." I said waving my hands to decline his offer.
"Yeah, we gotta head back." Leonard added pointing a thumb back to town.
"No, no, I insist. Please. Just one glass!" He begged.
McCoy and I sighed. "Sure." I nodded. "But one glass and that's it, Old Man." I smiled .
"I promise." He said raising a hand to his heart.
"You said the same thing about those cookies. Now I'm 5 pounds heavier ever since you started bringing them in." I bantered as he led us back to the house.
The inside of his house looked old and rustic. An antique deer's head hung on the wall under a large leather couch, facing a large entertainment hallo screen.
"Make yourselves at home." Treadway said ushering us to the couch before he left and made his way down the hall and to the kitchen. We sank down into it uncomfortably, looking around at the random treasures he had scattered throughout his living room.
Treadway returned shortly with two very full glasses of Sweet Tea, and I tried to hide my disappointment. After two years in the south, you'd think I'd learn that "Tea" meant "Cold Water that Tastes like Diabetes."
"Thanks." I smiled and lifted the cup of sugar water to my mouth.
Leonard gulped his down rather quickly, but obviously, not quickly enough.
"Leonard!" A scared voice called from the hall and we turned to see a man somewhat close to Leo's age with blond hair hair and green eyes. He was tall, but scrawny, his eyes were shifty as he looked to McCoy and me, he looked around the room, like he was trying to find a place to hide, or something to defend himself with. Leo just nodded at him curtly. "Clay." He said.
"W-What are doing here?" Clay asked walking nervously up to us.
I gave McCoy a confused look and he responded with arched eyebrows. "Your Dad called. We fixed Dixie's leg." He explained, his eyes narrowing as he watched Clay.
"Uh-hu. Okay. That's it?" Clay was almost panting. What the hell was going on?
McCoy's narrowed eyes turned to a scowl and he drawled out a "Yeah. That's about it."
"Oh." Clay smiled. "Okay good. Well it was nice seeing you, I'll be home later Pap." He said rushing out the door.
I looked to Mr. Treadway, he looked just about as confused as us. "You boys didn't have another spat, did ya?"
"Not to my knowledge." McCoy answered his eyes still a bit narrowed and his jaw clenched as he threw back his head and finished the last of his drink.
I followed his lead and got up from the couch. "Thanks for the tea!" I said to Mr. Treadway.
"Any time!" He said as we left.
"That was… interesting?" I said to McCoy as we walked down the porch. We could see Clay's car speeding off down the dirt road in the distance. McCoy didn't respond. We got in the car and he was silent the entire way back to work.
I'd take his sighs and curses over his silence any day.
The next day was strange.
Leonard got out of his house on time. There was no screaming. No fighting. No tears. But when he got into the car, he didn't say a word to me. I tried to make small talk; I commented on the weather, asked him about his plans for the holidays, nothing. He just looked out his window broodingly.
"Are you mad at me?" I finally asked.
"No." he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth, the sound muffled by the hand he was leaning against.
My logical mind told me it wasn't me, it was probably just the continuing problems with Joyce, but my emotional and paranoid mind told me I'd done something wrong and that he hated me, and I started to feel slightly panicked.
I hadn't realized it till just that moment. But this stupid intern was probably my best friend.
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